Boxed Set: The Baker & the Billionaire

by Nikki Steele

  It was hard to see where I was walking, my eyes streaming from the force of the wind, but I’d made the trek so many times that I had a good idea of where to go—at least, I hoped I did; I might just as well have taken a wrong step and not known. My chest clenched in terror at the thought, and I looked around. If I’d accidentally stumbled off the path…

  The snow was blowing so hard I could barely see, but I thought I could make out the shape of my cabin not far from where I stood. Even if it wasn’t mine, maybe I could knock on the door and take shelter there.

  I almost cried in relief when I saw my rental car in the driveway, one side banked up with snow. I stumbled up the stairs and fell through the front door, pushed from behind by the wind.

  Chapter 3

  I hadn’t wanted to pace the lobby at the Lodge, but all I was doing now was pacing the living room of the cabin. The weather report confirmed what the stranger had told me—the storm would keep going through the evening. Roads were being cleared, but no sooner did the plows pass through than the snow covered the blacktop and began to pile up again. I was heartbroken and enraged, simultaneously.

  Of course, my rage was directed toward both Erica and myself. After all, she could only do this to me because I allowed her to. I talked myself into believing I was big and bad just because I wouldn’t take her bags to a cab, but the reality was the same as it had always been: I was a doormat.

  I tried to call my mom to explain what had happened but couldn’t get through. Hopefully we’d connect before the flight’s arrival; I hated to think of how they’d panic if I wasn’t on the plane. I’d have to eat the cost of the plane ticket too, not to mention the fee I incurred when I rescheduled. Just another inconvenience I could chalk up to my sister and her selfishness. I considered sending her the bill, but then laughed bitterly. If I couldn’t say no to missing a family celebration, how would I ever win an argument about money?

  I also thought about Jax; now that I was here, all alone, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. I had nothing better to do, after all. I looked out the window, a sea of falling white flakes forming dark, indistinct piles. If I wasn’t so unsettled I would have been thrilled; I loved snow. Even more so after the hot tub. I’d certainly never thought about snow that way before I met him. My nipples hardened at the memory, and I bit my lip. This line of thought would get me nowhere.

  I had to find something to do, something to take my mind off of how lousy and helpless I felt. I looked toward the kitchen, wondering if I had the ingredients to bake something. Maybe I could take it to Jax, as an excuse to see him; maybe I could get something nice out of this miserable experience. Otherwise I would go crazy, right after I cried myself to sleep.

  I pulled out the ingredients for my favorite carrot cake. I peeled and grated the carrots, chopped walnuts and pineapple, and then soaked raisins until they plumped. As always the act of putting a recipe together calmed me. My breathing slowed; I could feel my blood pressure coming down.

  My thoughts went back to Jax; after all, I was preparing this cake for him. I remembered how incredible it had been to spend time with him—particularly after the dinner I had cooked, when he’d dared me to walk around in nothing but his trench coat. Around him I could be a different person. That tigress would have stood up to Erica, I knew it.

  I beat together the ingredients for the cake. I mixed the wet ingredients and then sifted the dry ones; combining them, then stirring in carrots, coconut, pineapple, raisins and nuts. Would Jax even like this? I made a fantastic cake; I knew that—otherwise I wouldn’t be making this one. But would he like the fact that I was making it for him?

  I poured batter into cake pans and slid them into the oven, then set the timer. I had to give Jax credit for the fact that we still had power; back home, if we had a storm like this the lights would have been out by now. There had to be a solid grid set up, and I had to wonder how much of that was thanks to him.

  I turned on the TV. The forecast said that we were over the hump, so to speak, but snow was due to fall for another few hours. I tried to dial my parents again, but still couldn’t get through.

  What could I have done to prevent this? I could have stood up to Erica, full-stop. I could have demanded that we both fly home, instead of staying back to do her work for her. Sure, I would have had to face her wrath the entire way home… but at least I would actually be home now. I could have kept the drinks date with my friends, I could have made this carrot cake for my parents’ party instead of for Jax—who may not even want it—and I wouldn’t be sitting here feeling miserable and alone on the couch.

  Eventually I made it through to one of my cousins via Skype. Thank god for technology. I let her know that I was stuck in a freak blizzard, and that I didn’t think I’d be able to make it home. I asked her to call my parents for me to let them know that I wouldn’t be flying in that night, and that I would try to call them myself as soon as I was able. At least I wouldn’t have to feel terrible about them worrying over me not showing up at the airport. Now I just had to feel terrible about not being there for such a big event.

  When the cake was ready, I took the pans out of the oven, setting them to cool on racks as I pulled out cream cheese to soften for frosting. Maybe the roads would be cleared tonight? Maybe I could go to Jax’s and give him the cake. I could spend the night with him instead of being all alone.

  What was I thinking? I was the one who’d told Jax that we shouldn’t see each other. I was the one who’d insisted that we shouldn’t be involved. And now I was entertaining the idea of spending the night with him? I was like a silly schoolgirl with a crush on the captain of the football team.

  But he was so handsome with those green eyes the color of shamrocks. I began to daydream as I stared at the snow falling out the window. He’d teased me in the coffee shop, reminding me that I was naked beneath my trench coat. And it had felt so good, even if I was in a state of near-panic half the time, wondering if anybody would find out my little secret.

  And then we’d gone back to the house. The mansion, I corrected myself. And I’d handed over control of my body to him. It was possibly the bravest thing I had ever done, and yet it had come so easily. I knew I could trust him, that he would never take advantage of me or force me to do anything. Letting him take control and guide our pleasure had been hotter than anything I could have imagined.

  Would we ever have done any of it if I’d thought I’d never see him again, that first night? It had let me become a different person. And I didn’t ever want to go back.

  I shook my head, dragging myself from my reverie. Though maybe I should—this new found independence had leaked into the rest of my life, and it was causing me misery.

  Once the cake had cooled, I whipped up a cream cheese frosting. Erica would have had a heart attack at the butter, cream cheese and powdered sugar, but she wasn’t here to make me feel bad about it. I tried to get her out of my mind as I watched the ingredients combine and become fluffy. I took a taste; no matter what my sister or any other health nut happened to think, it was darned delicious.

  I sliced both of the cake’s layers in two, leaving me with four layers which I covered and then stacked with frosting. I then frosted the top and sides, and decorated the top with a ring of whole pecans.

  Instantly I regretted making it. What was I even thinking? Who baked a cake for someone these days? I flashed back to how boys had looked at me in high school when I tried to be nice to them. Even now I could see the looks of thinly-veiled disgust, or amusement, or worst of all—pity. Would Jax react that way when I took this cake to him?

  Maybe I should eat the entire thing myself, right here and now. Nobody would ever have to know. If I couldn’t go home I could at least comfort myself in some little way.

  But then I thought of Jax. And I remembered again the way he had held me. And instead of binge eating, I put the cake in the fridge and sat down with a glass of wine and a good book. There was nothing else I could do, but wait for the sno
w to stop.

  Chapter 4

  Bright, light was streaming through the windows when I awoke the next morning—it was sunlight reflecting off new snow, turning the whole world white.

  Maybe this was what I needed. Maybe a little time off, away from Erica and that entire world, would be the best thing for me. I’d tried to rebook my flights last night, but prior cancellations meant it was booked solid.

  So I luxuriated in a long, hot shower; for once I wasn’t in a hurry to make a meeting or a competition. I’d missed my flight, and now I didn’t have a schedule—it was refreshing, in a way, as long as I didn’t let the sadness through—30th wedding anniversaries didn’t come along all that often. Today was a special day for my parents, and I was going to miss it.

  Once I dried my hair and dressed, I went downstairs to get a look at the roads. They were completely clear, which I expected; if there was any place that needed to be prepared for snow, it was a ski resort and the surrounding area. But what really surprised me was the fact that my driveway had cleared, too, and my car had been de-iced. Perhaps this was a special service reserved for people who had naughty fun with the owner of the resort? Whatever the reason, I’d take it.

  I debated on whether I should call Jax; that cake was still in the fridge, of course, and it was calling my name. It wanted me to eat it, or deliver it. Either way it wasn’t going to sit there, quietly.

  I decided to give him a call; at the very least I could play it off as an attempt to thank him for having my car cleaned off. From the looks of the snow banks, we’d been slammed by that storm; it would have taken me all day to do it myself.

  “Libby!” His reaction said he was genuinely pleased to hear from me. It made me feel all warm inside.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to suppress a sudden urge to giggle. “Some storm, huh?”

  “Oh, for sure,” he said. “I was snowed in here all night long. I felt sort of lonely, actually…”

  I blushed. “I was here all alone, too,” I admitted.

  “You were?” he asked. “How come? Why didn’t you call me?”

  I beamed, and was glad he couldn’t see the way I spun around in a circle and pumped my fist in the air. “I thought you’d be busy,” I fibbed. “I mean, you’re a busy guy, right? Besides it was snowing so hard I couldn’t imagine either of us being able to make it to the other’s place.”

  “I have a snowmobile!” he laughed. “I’d have found a way.” Somehow, I knew that he was being sincere. He wasn’t just handing me a line.

  “Why are you alone?” he asked, suddenly. “Where’s your sister?”

  “Oh…” I said, and my spirits sank. “My sister flew out yesterday morning, well before the storm hit.”

  “You didn’t go too?” he asked. “Why not?”

  “I had to meet with the sponsors,” I explained, and I tried to keep my voice light and carefree. “But by the time I was finished the storm had hit, and I missed my flight—I won’t make the party.”

  “Oh, Libby,” Jax said, his voice full of sympathy. “When is it?”

  “Tonight,” I said. I couldn’t help the quaver that slipped into my voice.

  He must have heard it. “I’m sorry,” he said, and I knew he meant it. “Maybe you and I can do something together, instead. No reason we should both be hanging around, all alone.”

  I smiled. “Funny you should mention that,” I said, “since I was hoping to stop by with a little something I made for you yesterday. Since, you know, there was nothing else for me to do.” I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn’t be freaked out.

  “You made something for me?” he asked. “Please tell me it’s some delicious heavenly foodstuff. Please. I’m literally addicted to your cooking.”

  If he had been in standing in front of me in that moment, I would have kissed him.

  * * *

  “You look very pretty today,” Jax said.

  “Oh, please,” I deflected, laughing lightly. I’d only tried on a half dozen blouses before picking this one.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked, very seriously.

  “Do what?”

  “Why do you brush off compliments that way? If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t say it.” We were sitting in his kitchen, in the same seats we’d occupied when we ate dinner together. This time there was a carrot cake sitting between us, and he was cutting thick slices.

  I shrugged. “Habit, I guess,” was my answer. “I’m used to it.”

  Jax handed me a plate with a slice of cake, then dove into his own slice. He got that look on his face, and I cheered a little inside. His eyes closed, he put down the fork with a loud clink and slumped forward.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he finally mumbled, then opened his eyes and looked at me. “That’s the best carrot cake I’ve ever tasted.” I grinned, taking my own bite, and then nodded. He was right. I’d knocked this one out of the park.

  We continued eating in happy silence. Then, he said something around a mouthful of cake that surprised me. “Why did you believe me when I said that? About liking the cake?”

  My fork paused. “So… you don’t like it?” I said, confused.

  He laughed. “Of course I do. You don’t get what I’m saying. Why were you so quick to believe that I love your food, but when I tell you that you look pretty, you act like I’m lying?”

  My mouth opened, then it closed. I shrank in my seat—I didn’t know what to say.

  He must have seen the change in my posture, or my face. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting a hand on my arm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Though I think it’s worth asking anyway.”

  I nodded, then gave serious thought to the question. “I don’t know how to answer. I guess… it’s because I believe it? That my food is good? I mean, that’s a tangible thing. I can taste something and say hey, that’s yummy. You know?”

  “But you’re not accounting for differences in taste,” Jax argued. “I’m sure there’s somebody out there who wouldn’t like this cake, for instance. I mean, it’s hard to imagine; I sorta want a second slice already.”

  I giggled.

  “But there’s gonna be that guy out there who hates pineapple, or who doesn’t want any sort of vegetables in their cake. Something. It’s a matter of taste. So that guy would look at you and tell you you’re crazy, even though you know you love this and think it’s delicious.”

  He leaned forward, then tapped me on the arm meaningfully. “You picking up what I’m putting down yet?”

  I hesitated. I thought I did. “You’re not talking about the cake, are you?” Nobody, no man or woman, had ever talked about body shape like this before. I’d always thought there was only one right-or-wrong standard—that was what the magazines said, and television, and the athlete coaches I was constantly surrounded by. I didn’t fit that mold.

  I looked up from my plate and saw him smiling at me. “I, on the other hand,” he said, “happen to like my cake with lots of interesting things in it. Sweet stuff, tart stuff, even some nuts.” We both snorted. “And when I take the time to eat a slice, I don’t just want a wafer.” I blushed, the meaning behind his words blatantly obvious.

  We were silent for a time, and then Jax blissfully changed the subject. “So what are you up to? You said your sister went home for a party, right?”

  I nodded, and just like that I felt the little stab to my heart all over again.

  “Were you supposed to go as well?”

  I shook my head. “Sort of. Erica is visiting friends, but my parents have their wedding anniversary tonight—they’re having a big celebration, and I was planning on going to that.

  His eyebrows shot up. “It’s your parents’ anniversary? From what you’ve said about your sister, I’m not surprised she’s not going, but I would have thought you would want to.”

  I shrugged, struggling to play it cool. “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “The snow cancelled my flight, and there weren’t any seats at the last mi
nute today.”

  I heard his fingertips tapping on the countertop, but my eyes remained downcast. I began to rearrange the crumbs on my plate. If I looked at him, he’d know how heartbroken I felt. And then I’d have to find a way to somehow explain why I’d let my sister do this to me.

  “Well,” he said, jumping to his feet. “There’s only one thing to do.”

  I looked up. He had his phone in his hands and was sending a message to somebody.

  “What?” I asked.

  He slid his phone into his pocket and winked at me. “Do you trust me? Because if so, I think I can get you home in time for dinner.”

  I looked at him. And then I burst into tears.

  Chapter 5

  We arrived at an airplane hangar half an hour later.

  “This… isn’t the domestic airport, is it?” I asked, looking around. A midsized jet stood on the runway—one of the sleek, executive types.

  Jax shook his head with a grin. “Nope.”

  I looked at him with exasperation. “Well are you going to tell me where we are, then?”

  His grin grew wider. “Nope. You’ll figure it out.” He took my bags, and strode across the tarmac to the jet.

  A maintenance worker approached him. “Everything’s all set sir. She’s all ready and waiting for you.”

  Finally, it clicked. My mouth dropped open. I scurried to catch up. “This is your plane?”

  “Knew you’d get it,” he said with a wink. “Welcome aboard your private jet home.”

  I was so excited I punched him. “Get out of here! A private jet!”

  He nodded. “We should have you on the ground and walking through your front door in around two hours’ time.”