by Aven Ellis
Skye smiles warmly at me. “JoJo, thank you so much for inviting me over. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Here, let me introduce you to everyone,” I say, ushering her inside. “Skye, this is my roommate, Sierra Crawford.”
“Hello,” Sierra says, flashing her a grin.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” Skye says.
“I’m Jude,” Jude says, walking up and extending his hand. “Sierra’s boyfriend.”
“Hi,” Skye says, shaking his hand.
“And I’m Cade,” Cade says, extending his hand to her, too.
“Cade, pleasure to meet you,” Skye says, shaking his hand.
“We watched your season,” Jude says. “How have the last few months been for you?”
I notice that Skye’s smile wavers a bit, and I can tell she is unsure of how much to say.
“Whatever you say stays here,” Cade reassures her. “I know you don’t know any of us, but you have my word on that.”
Skye sits down on a barstool and begins twisting the bracelets stacked on her tiny wrist. She looks so small and anxious. I swear Skye hasn’t been eating right since this whole disaster happened.
I’m going to give her a double helping of pasta tonight and fatten her up on Nonna’s behalf.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” I ask. “We have some Chianti open, or we have sparkling or bottled water.”
“Wine, please.”
Sierra pours her a glass and hands it to her.
“Thank you,” she says, pausing to take a sip. “It’s been very hard. Watching everything back has been excruciating. And having the whole world comment on what an idiot you’ve been is soul-destroying.”
And then she opens up. Skye talks about how she thought it would be good exposure, but then, living in the bubble created by the show, she got wrapped up in Tom. She fell in love. Skye was blindsided when he dumped her and, worse, she couldn’t talk about the experience to anyone.
I can’t imagine what that would be like. When Marco dumped me, Sierra, along with my family, was the one who helped me get my life back together. I can’t imagine trying to deal with heartbreak while being silent.
“When the show aired, everyone talked about me. From what I said to how I dressed. They even discussed how I kissed,” Skye recalls, her face turning red. “Every part of me was analyzed. Mocked. I feel stupid saying this, but knowing it would happen didn’t help. I feel like an idiot for putting myself up for it in the first place.”
I notice Cade is studying Skye with a thoughtful expression.
“What do you like about being on TV?” he asks.
“I love hosting,” Skye says, her eyes lighting up. “I like the energy of TV, how anything can happen on air. I love talking to people. Sharing stories and bringing something to people through that medium.”
“You don’t have to read what people say about you to work on TV,” Cade says simply. “What do you gain from it? You aren’t going to change their opinion. There are always going to be people who live to hate on you. I know because I’m hated in the league.”
“You?” Skye asks, surprise in her voice. “People hate you?”
“Lots of them hate me. If I were to try to read all the negative comments about me, I’d never finish. But I know the person I am. The people around me know the real me. I stand by my play on the ice. I know I’m not a dirty player, even though a lot of people say I am. The bottom line is this: all that matters is that you’re happy with the person you are. You can’t give people who don’t know you power over your life choices. I don’t think you’d tell me to quit playing hockey because some trolls said I was an asshole, right?”
I stare at Cade in amazement. He’s so strong. Cade knows who he is, he’s secure in what people close to him think, and that’s all that matters. It’s another quality I find very attractive in him.
“You’re right,” Skye says. “I can’t let people have that power.”
“Don’t let the wankers win,” Jude adds.
“Or knobs,” Cade teases. “Right, Jude? Wankers and knobs?”
“What?” Skye asks innocently. “Is knob an idiot?”
“Yes, you could say that,” Jude says, grinning.
“Jude!” Sierra cries. She turns to Skye. “It can mean idiot, but really, it’s British slang for penis.”
Skye bursts out laughing.
“Okay, good to know,” she says. “Either way, it works.”
The rest of the night is spent eating and talking. I don’t get Skye to eat a double portion of pasta, but she does eat one, so I count it as a success.
It was nice getting to know the “real” Skye. She was outgoing and talkative, and while I know she won’t ever forget what has been said about her, I think Cade and Jude have given her the courage to move forward.
Which is something she didn’t have until tonight.
When it’s time for Skye to leave, she says goodbye to everyone, and I see her out the door.
“Thank you so much for everything, JoJo,” Skye says, holding my hands in hers. “You have given me hope I can get past all this.”
“You will,” I say confidently. “This article is just a start for you.”
She nods. “I wish I could stay longer in Denver. Tonight is the best I’ve felt in months.”
“We do have TV in Denver, you know,” I say, smiling at her. “Maybe you need a new start in the Rockies.”
Skye laughs. “One change at a time. Right now, I’m going to learn not to read everything that is written about me. Or at least begin to mentally toughen up.”
“Okay,” I say. “That’s a good start.”
She gives me a quick hug, and I embrace her, knowing I’ve made a new friend.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I’m back in LA,” Skye says, nodding. “I’m already looking forward to coming back for our tasting.”
“Me, too. Have a good flight home,” I say.
She waves and heads to the elevator, and I go back inside.
“Hey,” Sierra says, picking up her purse, “Jude and I are going to go out and get coffee. Do you want anything?”
“No, thank you,” I say. I turn to Cade. “Do you want some?”
“Nah, I’m fine,” he says. “See you guys.”
“Later, mate,” Jude says to Cade, and they head out the door, leaving us alone.
Cade moves over to me, and my breath catches in my throat. He slowly picks up my hands, carefully entwining his fingers through mine.
“Thank you for talking to Skye,” I say, squeezing his strong hands affectionately. “It was very nice of you to share your insights with her.”
“Normally, I’d distrust someone who went on TV with an ulterior motive,” Cade admits. “But you were right about her. She admitted her reasons for being on the show, and she didn’t have to explain any of that to us. Or admit how it all backfired and how humiliated she was. People hurt her so badly with those stupid comments. She was genuinely vulnerable. I see what you see now. But I was going to help her regardless.”
“Why?”
“Because you asked me to.”
My heart pounds rapidly against my ribs as Cade moves his hands up to my face, framing it.
“Do you know what it means to me to see how much you care about other people?” he says softly.
I can’t breathe.
“You’re special, and you have no idea that you are,” Cade continues. “I see it in these gorgeous dark brown eyes of yours.”
“What else do you see?” I whisper back.
“A girl that I need to kiss,” Cade says, lowering his mouth to mine. “Right now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Excitement courses through me the second Cade’s lips brush against mine. He slowly eases my mouth open in an exploring kiss, just like the ones he gave me last night when I was on his sofa. I slide my hands up to the back of his neck so I can run my fingers through his hair as his tongue caresses mine.
A drugge
d feeling comes over me as Cade continues to kiss me in his sensual way. His hands are still framing my face, and his kiss makes me feel treasured, as if Cade is holding something precious. Something he’s going to handle carefully and with caution.
With a jolt, I realize his kiss is reflective of how he wants to move with me. I’m special to him, but because of our pasts, he’s going to handle us cautiously.
So neither of us will break.
Cade breaks the kiss and brushes his lips across the bridge of my nose. A contented sigh escapes my lips.
“I like the way you kiss,” I say, moving my hands to his face and rubbing my palms over his wonderfully sexy stubble.
“We could use kissing as a reward program,” Cade says, smiling down at me.
“Reward program?” I ask, confused.
“You know, every time I pronounce a food correctly in Italian, I get to kiss you.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “That seems more like a reward for me,” I tease.
“Oh, trust me, it’s a reward for me, too,” Cade says, lowering his head toward mine and kissing me again.
I melt into him, relishing the rugged sexiness of his facial scruff and the taste of Chianti on his full lips. Cade lifts his mouth from mine and gazes down at me.
“See?”
I smile. “I need to think of something special for you.”
Cade takes his fingertips and gently traces them down the side of my neck causing my nerves to tingle in response. He slowly moves to my collarbone, skims along it, and then stops at my shoulder.
“You could keep wearing these off the shoulder blouses,” he says slowly.
Then Cade lowers his lips and gently brushes them across the top of my right shoulder.
I’m on fire.
“Mmm,” I moan.
Cade proceeds to kiss me along the top of my shoulder and then back up the side of my neck. I grow dizzy from his hot mouth moving against my skin.
“These blouses,” he murmurs into my neck, “are hot. I love seeing your skin. I love kissing your skin.”
His mouth reclaims mine, and I kiss him back in the same sensual way. Finally, I break the kiss and gaze up at him. I see nothing but desire for me in his eyes.
“I think that can be arranged,” I manage to say.
“Then I’m going to bust my ass learning the Italian way to say ricotta. And every other word I can think of. It’s worth it if it gives me the opportunity to see you in these sexy blouses.”
I gaze up at him in awe. “You really find this top sexy, don’t you?”
“I find the woman who is wearing it sexy,” Cade declares. “I like how it only shows a hint of you.”
I realize Cade is a “less is more” kind of guy, that he enjoys the provocative hints that clothing can provide.
And I find that quality in him very, very attractive.
“Wait until you see me in my outdoor wear,” I tease, sliding my arms around his back.
“I can’t wait to go fishing with you on Saturday,” Cade says, locking his hands around my waist. “One of my greatest passions is the outdoors.”
I bite my lip. I’ve never spent much time in the great outdoors as it has never appealed to me. Outdoor café with a latte? Perfect. But hiking in the woods and putting bait on hooks? It’s a world I have no interest in, to be honest.
Doubt riddles me. What if I don’t like it? What if I’m terrible at fishing? Will it be a deal breaker for Cade if I don’t find an interest in his hobby?
“What’s the look for?” Cade asks.
I blink. “What?”
“You’re biting your lip.”
I blush. “Just thinking about fishing and what to expect,” I say. “I hope I don’t ruin your time on Saturday.”
Surprise flickers across his face. “How could you possibly do that?”
“I’ve never fished before,” I say anxiously.
“Which is why I’m taking you,” Cade says.
“But what if I’m terrible at this whole outdoors thing?”
“How can you be terrible at being outside?”
Oh, God, he really doesn’t understand what a city girl I am.
“Listen,” Cade says, “My goal is to be with you on Saturday. Catching fish doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” I say, but I still feel doubt in my heart.
“Josephine,” Cade says seriously, “trust me.”
I stare up at him and see sincerity in his eyes.
“I do,” I say, which is absolutely terrifying to admit.
Because I know I’m supposed to be moving with extreme caution. My heart should be stopping at all the yellow lights. Obeying all of the yield signs.
But despite my brain’s best efforts, I’m moving forward with little hesitation. Because I do trust Cade. I barely know him. But I know, without a doubt, there’s more than chemistry between us.
“You’re what matters,” Cade says, pressing his lips against mine.
And as I kiss him back, I run another yellow light.
I’m falling for him.
And I just pray I don’t end up crashing as a result.
***
I review my proposal one more time before I hit send on my email to Angelique. After talking to Skye and getting to know her yesterday, I have come up with three cupcake concepts to test in the kitchen: a whimsical cupcake playing on sugar and spice and everything nice, filled with a snickerdoodle cookie dough and topped with cinnamon buttercream; a decadent chocolate cupcake with a brownie batter filling, topped with dark chocolate whipped ganache; and a vanilla and cherry Funfetti cupcake topped with cherry buttercream and adorned with a customized conversation heart. The cupcakes are elevated, but yet accessible to the home cook wanting to put in the extra effort.
My finger hovers over the send button. This is my first creative proposal for Angelique, and I desperately want to show her I can not only do this, but do it well.
The cupcakes reflect Skye’s tastes in food and the holiday. She reminds me of sugar and spice. Brownies are her favorite chocolate treat, so I had to do a cupcake with a nod to that. And we both agreed something pink for Valentine’s Day was in order. Skye mentioned she absolutely loves Funfetti and that everything is better with sprinkles, so we decided to bake a cherry flecked vanilla cupcake filled with pink and red candy confetti and topped with a luscious cherry juice-infused vanilla frosting.
I know I’m going to have to defend the choice of candy confetti. Angelique will hate it, but it’s for Skye. It represents who she is and, more to the point, home bakers will think it’s fun. It’s perfect for kids, too. I go ahead and add this to my proposal:
Please note: Skye loves candy confetti and it’s a whimsical nod to her personality. Fun and bright. I also think our readers with children will love making these together this Valentine’s Day.
I sigh. My note won’t make a bit of difference, but I’m prepared to put up a fight.
I almost laugh. Fighting for Funfetti. I should get that on a T-shirt.
I hit send on my email, and then I reach for my phone so I can text Cade.
In case you were wondering, you aren’t the only one who fights on the job. I’m prepared to come to blows over the use of Funfetti in a cupcake if I need to.
Then I hit send.
Texting throughout the day has become routine. Cade has also continued waking me up with a phone call because he likes to hear my voice first thing in the morning. It’s romantic, one of the most romantic things a man has ever done for me, and it’s just another thing that makes him so different.
Caution.
The yellow light blinks in my head. I’ve been with Cade for three days. That’s it. But his phone call is already a part of my daily life. As is texting him during the day and seeing him when I get home. Our easy conversation from that infamous cheesecake baking night hasn’t stopped. It continues whenever we’re together. We’re eager to see each other; to keep discovering more; to share slow, sexy, exploring kisses . . .
I blink. I need to focus on each day with Cade as it comes. Nothing beyond that is guaranteed.
But my heart is tumbling. Cade is different from any other man I’ve ever met. He’s brilliant. Strong. Secure. Passionate. Funny. Sweet. Sensual.
I’m drawn to him like I’ve never been drawn to anyone in my life.
I swallow hard. If I already feel this way, there’s no going back for me, although my head is screaming to slow my feelings down.
What if he’s seeing other girls?
I freeze, surprised by the thought. Oh shit, I mean, he probably is, right? No. Not after the way he kissed me. There’s no way he’s kissing other women like that.
Three days and you think you have a lock on one of the hottest eligible men in Denver? A badass professional athlete, no less?
Dammit! I hate both my head and my heart right now.
In fact, the only thing I trust about myself these days is my super-taster skill.
Buzz!
My phone jars me from my thoughts. I glance down, and it is indeed from Cade.
Funfetti is worth clocking someone for. Who doesn’t like Funfetti?
I smile as I read Cade’s words. I begin to respond but another text drops in:
I could show you some of my favorite punches this evening, if you like. Because you have to win. Funfetti lovers of the world are counting on you.
Ohhhhhhhhhh! He wants to see me again!
Butterflies are dancing with elation in my stomach.
Could be very helpful. I do have to grocery shop tonight, though. In exchange, would you like me to show you the proper way to pick out produce?
I just asked Cade to go grocery shopping.
I’m sure no woman has asked him to do that this early in the game. “Hey, hot hockey player, want to go see if Whole Foods has some fresh heirloom tomatoes?”
Buzz!
That depends. Do I get to push the cart?
Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
I know if I were to look in my compact mirror right now I’d see a beaming smile reflected back.
I respond:
Of course you can push the cart. So is this a yes?
Buzz!
Hell, yes, it’s a yes. Jupe never lets me push the cart. Or trolley, as he calls it. Come down when you’re off work. We can get dinner and go look at produce. Play your cards right and I’ll show you how to clock someone on the jaw, too.
