Have Your Cake

by Roi, D. S.

  Rebecca laughed and twirled to enter the house. Iona followed. Cyana tried to take a step but Asher gripped her wrist. A sharp inhale stole her surprised cry before his heat warmed her body. Her attention settled on his boots. He leaned down to whisper to her.

  “Why won’t you talk to me? I called your sister damn near all night yesterday.”

  She moved her rogue curl and shifted to him, ready to dismiss his attempts to contact her. The words hung in her throat. Holy mama. He’d gotten a haircut and was clean shaven. The man polished up really nice and left her with her mouth hanging open.

  “Look, I was worried about you. I’m not gonna do this now. I know it’s your big day, but we are talking after this. Understood?”

  Of course, a man like him would be used to getting his way. He would make demands of her. She’d be damned if he would tell her what she’d be doing after the cake presentation. Without a word, she pivoted out of his grasp and followed her sister inside.

  Rebecca and Iona were busy discussing the house and the wedding as they led the way. Rebecca seemed genuinely excited as she squealed about whatever the two found interesting. Cyana was keenly aware of the presence following her into the kitchen.

  “Ladies, if you will have a seat, Cyana and I will reveal the main attraction.” Asher’s hand settled on her lower back, forcing her stance to straighten.

  Iona and Rebecca both took a seat at the kitchen island. Asher coaxed her into the fridge. He propped it opened with a brick, but let the door close onto it. He captured her arm from behind and twirled her. She slammed into his bulk with a gasp before his lips crashed onto hers.

  His kiss blasted away the chill of the fridge, heating her to the core. She melted into him and stifled a moan. Her nipples hardened and pussy flexed, eager and willing to take the attention he’d lavished on her with expertise. Her spine arched, sending the tips of her breasts to rub against his firm chest.

  A shiver roamed through her, but it didn’t generate from her. Asher’s body had shaken with such yearning the reaction transferred. He gripped her ass, nearly smashed her into his hardness. She gasped. He enticed her tongue into his mouth, suckled it with gentle demand until a mew left her throat. Her only comfort was the burst of laughter from Rebecca and Iona in the kitchen signaled they hadn’t heard.

  Asher ripped away from her mouth, settling his forehead against hers. He shifted his hands. The strength of his fingers dug into her hips, massaging roughly, as if he couldn’t decide whether to free her or not.

  A wave of relief warmed her. She hadn’t been the only one fighting to remain sane after not seeing or hearing from him. He lifted his head with heavy breaths, grinding his thickening cock into her belly. Tendrils of lust grabbed at her rationale. We can’t do this here.

  She needed to be strong, to resist him. His two-toned eyes caught her confused and hungry gaze while he hauled his body away.

  “I’m sorry. Talk. Yeah.” He rubbed her arms while he whispered and shifted her closer. “Damn. The chef’s uniform looks good on you,” he complimented her jacket and pants. She could only stare at him, not understanding what he could have seen so attractive about it. “Cyana we need to talk first, but, ah hell…” He was on her before she could get a word out. She dove into his kiss regardless of her self-coaching. Asher seemed to tear himself away. He adjusted the bulk below his buckle.

  Oh crap. She licked her bruised lips. I kissed him back. Why did I kiss him back?

  “Dammit.” Asher shifted onto his heels and blew out a breath as if resetting his focus. “I missed you.” She watched him as his brow knit. He shook his head, as if he could kick himself for what he’d said. “Okay.” He sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed. “We're gonna talk.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “You good? You okay?”

  Cyana couldn't make a peep. The tremor in her belly had spread to her hands. She clasped them in front of her while lowering her sight. The act brought her attention to the hunk of flesh below his buckle. She nodded timidly, but couldn't divert her stare.

  “Okay,” Asher whispered. “Let’s get this done. You come out first. And for God’s sake, stay on the side of the cart closest to Rebecca.” He walked to the other side of the cart.

  Cyana took another glance at his obvious problem. With a long breath, she pressed her tingling lips together. She unveiled the cakes and grabbed her end. They exited the refrigerator. The scent of sugar brought a soothing calm to her shoulders.

  Rebecca’s hands framed her face with excitement. “They’re so gorgeous.” She squealed. “You made all of these?”

  “Only for you, Ms. Gard,” Cyana said.

  Rebecca came to her feet while Iona wore a big smile and gave a wink of approval. The bride scurried over to the cakes. “They are just lovely. You do amazing work.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Gard.”

  “Trust me, the real magic is under the icing,” Asher said.

  “You got to taste my cake, Asher?” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “No fair.”

  He laughed. “I better get you a fork before I end up in the dog house.”

  The tensions in the kitchen soon faded as Rebecca revealed her fun-loving wonderful personality. They were enjoying bits of the five cakes with a serving of premium coffee.

  “There is a lot of cake left,” Rebecca said. “All of them are really wonderful. I think my favorite is the red velvet.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed them. I understand the bridal party will be arriving this week?”

  “Tomorrow,” Rebecca said with a groan. “This entire week seems to be planned for me. I’m glad I got here a day ahead of my Matron of Honor. She’s my best friend. I love her, but she can drive me crazy at times with her plan-a-holic lifestyle. She’s almost as bad as—”

  “Helloooo?” The high-pitched voice sounding from the foyer made all but Iona cringe.

  “Speak of the devil,” Rebecca grumbled.

  “Did you invite her?” Asher asked.

  Rebecca shook her head profusely. Sally entered the doorway with a smile. She was dressed in a fitted pink suit with her hair in a bun. “The photos came out marvelous, darling.” She strolled into the room, sight fixed on Asher as if he were the only one who existed. “It was the perfect time of day. The perfect sun. Of course, I looked stunning in the gown.”

  “Why are you here, Mother?” Asher asked. He didn’t share his mother’s enthusiasm. His pinched expression made Cyana shift off her stool and to her feet.

  “To see Becky, of course.” Sally then regarded Rebecca. “Hello, darling, how are you?”

  Rebecca seemed to plaster on a smile less genuine than what Cyana had noticed earlier. “I’m more than fine, Ms. Wilmington.”

  Sally sucked her teeth, waving her hand. “With all the formalities. We’re practically family, dear.” She reached across the island to stroke Rebecca’s hand. “I can’t wait to show you the markups of ideas. I love the colors you’ve picked for your wedding, darling.”Just as she spoke, Miguel entered the doorway with a large box in his hand.

  “Señora Wilmington, where would you like these?”

  “Right there.” Sally pointed to the space at the end of the island in front of Iona. “In fact, the photo shoot went so well I decided to celebrate.” Sally took both of Rebecca’s hands and commanded the young bride’s gaze. “You won’t believe what I found. There’s a fabulous bakery downtown. I just loved the look of it. I thought since the wedding cake wasn’t set in stone, it might not be a bad idea to give you a few options.”

  A shot of disgust coiled in Cyana’s belly. She pushed away from the counter. Asher settled a hand on her elbow to still her.

  “Mother, you are not in charge of the food. We’re going with Huffing Kitchen.”

  Sally released a light laugh. “I’ve never coordinated a wedding where there have been no last minute changes, my dear boy. Besides, you haven’t offered Becky any choices to compare. A bride can’t make such pivotal decisions based off one choi
ce. It’s not fair, Asher.”

  “On the contrary, Huffing Kitchen is the South’s newest up and coming restaurant,” Asher said.

  “You still haven’t given a reason why not to present a more traditional cuisine.” Sally turned up her nose.

  “Because it’s not your choice to make.” The statement came out flat, causing a silence in the room. His words seemed to have lit a fire in Sally as the anger glinted behind her gaze. She shifted away from the bride.

  Rebecca, braver than Cyana, flashed a glance at Asher. “Josh and I did decide on barbeque. I’ve tasted all of Cyana’s wonderful creations. They are far more noteworthy than a lot of other cakes I’ve tried.”

  Sally let out a “tist”, seeming determined to have someone on her side of dismissing Huffing Kitchen. “Nonsense, darling.” She pivoted towards Rebecca. “Giselle informed me with our guest list and location, we stand to launch one of the biggest wedding events of the season. You certainly don’t want such an opportunity to go to waste over experimental foods.” Sally stated the last two words with a smug expression. “I’m prepared to offer you the opportunity to place this wedding as the top envy of Sweetly Bridal by serving cuisine from well-known and proven restaurateurs.” Rebecca fell silent as Sally flashed her wicked smile at Cyana. “Besides you don’t want to leave your wedding in the hands of one of Asher’s play things, do you?”

  Sharp anger tensed Cyana’s spine. She spun on her heels. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Rebecca. Please, feel free to share all the delicacies with your bridal party later today. I believe we’ll take our leave now.”

  Rebecca flashed a sorrowful look before taking her hand to shake it. Cyana nodded to Iona. Her sister stood, ready to walk out with her.

  “Cyana,” Asher called after her. She shook her head and kept walking.

  An ache shifted into Cyana’s chest at the sound of Asher speaking to her back. Pressure to clear the front doors ushered her faster with Iona hot on her heels. Stepping out into the heat of the magnolia scented air brought a sense of cooling. The irritation had raised her temperature and closed her throat. The Civic beeped with Iona’s press of the keyless entry. Cyana wrenched the door open before throwing herself into the seat and slamming the door closed.

  “That woman doesn’t want us there,”Iona said, once she settled into the driver’s seat of the Civic.

  “No. This is my fault. She doesn’t want me there.”

  “Girl,” Iona’s voice hit a high octave. “She just insulted the entire Huffing Kitchen.”

  The emotion took Cyana in a shiver. “Oh Iona, I’m so sorry.” She sucked back the knot in her throat, suppressing the hoard of angry tears threatening to cool her face. She gripped her hands into fists, pressing them firmly to her lap. “I know you asked me down here to help and not make things worse.”

  “Ce Ce, Sally is right. This wedding event is enormous, even though it’s a small scale wedding considering the people getting hitched. It will also be huge if Huffing Kitchen gets the entire food schedule. We’ll be featured in the fancy bridal magazine, announce we’re opening a new kitchen and generate a positive traffic into our business.”

  “I know,” Cyana sighed. “That’s what worries me.”

  “Sista, we ain’t got a thing to worry about. Didn’t you hear what Asher said? He scheduled the catering. We have a contract. You know how Mama negotiates. He’d have to pay us out of it. Have no doubt, I will be paid what I’m worth.”

  “But, what about the début of Huffing Kitchen?”

  “Don’t trouble your pretty little head about it. I’ve been saving money for a building for over a year now. Mama doesn’t even know. If he pays us out, it will still be enough to get what I want.” Iona reached over and moved one of Cyana’s curls from her face. “Either way, I get my restaurant, Girl. I just wanted my sister with me.”

  Ache swelled in her chest as Iona’s grip settled over hers. The love in her sister’s stare washed away the anger. Cyana smiled while Iona gave the soft fist on her lap a squeeze. “You are the best cake maker in all of Weynor. Rebecca won’t find a better baker.” Iona lifted her hand to give her shoulder a reassuring rub. “I can’t believe Sally thinks my plates aren’t elegant. She hasn’t had a single bite of Huffing Kitchen’s food.” Iona humphed and shifted to start the car. “No problem though. Asher won’t pay us out. We’re gonna show Sally what Huffing Kitchen barbeque is really about. And we’re gonna have our cake, too.”

  “Excuse us, Rebecca,” Asher said tightly.

  Rebecca swiveled from the barstool. “No problem. I’ll be out back walking the trail to burn off a few of these calories.” She scooted from the kitchen’s island. Asher didn’t take his glare from Sally while he waited to hear the sound of the door shutting.

  Sally sat at the counter and plucked out one of the cupcakes she’d brought in to show up Huffin Muffin. She rolled her eyes at him, peeling away the glossy foil from the treat.

  “We are less than a week out for this celebration, Mother.”

  She sucked her teeth before biting into the cake.

  “You know damn well there won’t be any changes made. What exactly are you trying to accomplish with this behavior?”

  Sally set the cake down and wiped at her mouth with the grey napkin. “Darling, really I just wanted to celebrate. This is divine.” She pointed at the box. “You should have one.”

  He crossed to her side in a moderately slow stroll. He stopped at the box, gingerly scooting it towards him. He casually opened the lid to blue, green, pink and yellow icing topped minicakes. He made eye contact and lifted the box of treats with an expressionless face. Sally smiled in triumph.

  In one explosive move, he slung the container across the room. Colorful icing splattered against the wall when the delicate pastries detonated on impact. Sally startled in her seat.

  “Asher Wilmington,” she scolded, but resumed her quiet demeanor, lifting her cupcake.

  He sneered at her, grabbed the cake out of her hand and sent it to meet its fate with the others.

  “I was eating tha—”

  “That piece of shit shouldn’t have come into my house,” he yelled.

  19

  Asher got a bit of satisfaction knowing he’d pissed Sally off. His nostrils flared. The sweet aroma of Cyana’s cakes flooded his senses. His fisted hands relaxed. Mother or not, Sally was swiftly placing herself on the shit-list.

  “Lower your tone,” Sally whispered after his outburst. Her look blazed with disapproval; nostrils flexed in the same pattern his did. The display was something he’d inherited from her.

  He set his jaw, stabbed her with his gaze before shifting a step back and heaving another sugar and vanilla infused breath. Raised voices in the Wilmington household had always been strictly forbidden. Sally was well aware no matter how hot his temper got, he wasn’t a threat to her. He harnessed more control than his father ever had. She swiveled from her seat ready to do battle. “Your manners—”

  “My manners?” He interrupted. “You knew exactly what Rebecca was doing here today. You schemed to come here and ruin—”

  “Ruin what?” Sally’s head shook with her raised tone.

  “Huffing Kitchen is my future restaurant.” His voice remained even despite the anger.

  Her features marred with disapproval. “Becky should have options. It’s terrible the girl doesn’t have any family to help her. She’s suffered enough in life with others making her choices. It’s her wedding—”

  “This wedding, the catering; the cake, is on my tab. Mine!” He hooked a thumb toward his chest. “She agreed to place the wedding solely in Wilmington hands as an opportunity to showcase our services for future business. I’m the one who pays the goddamned bill for it.” He sucked in a breath, dropped his hand and shifted on his feet. “Rebecca knows how much I care for her and Josh. She’s told me before she never dreamed she’d have a wedding like this. She’s grateful.” He settled his hands on his hips. The memory of how excited
and moved to tears the bride had been over his offer to throw her a wedding cooled him.

  “You haven’t made those Huffing women an offer,” Sally countered. “They don’t even have a restaurant. I hardly call operating out of a hotdog stand on wheels up-and-coming.”

  “It’s not the glamour of the kitchen. What’s on the plates makes them the best. They will be in my restaurant, operating right here.” Asher spread his hands at the space. “They’re the only venture I’m interested in.” He let out a growl. “I will have what I want, Sally.” He asserted his interest.

  “Seems like you want a lot more from them than you should,” she said.

  Asher fisted his hands and forced air into his system. There had to be a shred of composure in him somewhere, something to help him piece together the deeper meaning behind whatever game Sally was playing.

  “Tell me, what exactly about my plans strikes you with so much fear you would throw yourself in the middle of something that’s none of your damned business?”

  “This is my business.” She placed her hand on a hip to establish herself. “You owe me, Asher.”

  He burst into laughter at the absurdity of her statement.

  “No. Don’t you dare laugh.” Sally cut one of her neatly manicured fingers through the air. “You owe me the date with Sophia. I will not have you ruin this for me over a cheap thrill.”

  “Thrill?” He thrust both hands out to his sides.

  “Judge Garrett is very important to me. To the Wilmington future.” Sally reigned in her emotions and smoothed the front of her suit. “We all know you’re stringing the poor girl along. If you don’t stop, she won’t be the only one getting hurt.”

  “Funny. The only one hurting Cyana is you.”

  “For her own good. Cease this charade at once. Someone needs to run her off before you ruin her name.”