Sweet Seduction

by Camilla Stevens

She had no idea how it would all end. When she’d left Patrick’s car after he had driven her back to Olla, she had seen the hope and determination in his face. He wanted to find a way to make it work. Layla had had the optimism drained out of her a lifetime ago, at least as far as her own life was concerned. Life never worked out the way she wanted or expected it to.

  At the very least, her 2 year dry-spell had been taken care of. She smiled as she brought the glass up to take another sip. Before the tangy liquid had reached her lips she heard the familiar sound. It was the same sound of a BMW Z8 engine that had come drifting through town weekend throughout most of the summer.

  She watched as it made its approach directly to her house. For some reason, her mind took her back to when he’d invaded her little bakery and she wondered what day it was. Then it hit her: it was a Tuesday. He’d never come up during the week.

  What in the world was he doing here now?

  The glass was still in her hand as Patrick exited his convertible and made his way up the steps. He was in a dark blue t-shirt that hugged the broad muscles of his shoulders and arms, loosening a bit at his tapered waist. The jeans, as usual, sat quite well on him. Even in tennis shoes he looked perfect. He had that same wind-blown hair from several hours of coastal breezes rushing through it that she loved.

  He leaned against one of the posts holding up the roof of her wrap-around porch and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I was wondering,” he said with a smile, “I heard that the chocolate cupcakes in this town are to die for. But I see the only bakery around is under construction. So perhaps you know where a guy could get a nice bottle of pinot noir instead?”

  She was too stunned to respond at first, simply absorbing the fact that he was here…on a Tuesday!

  Then she laughed despite herself.

  Patrick laughed with her as he came over and planted himself on the seat next to her on the swing. Layla brought one leg underneath her as she turned to face him.

  She was just as casually dressed as he was, having no job to go to quite yet. A loose Hard Rock t-shirt from San Francisco above a pair of shorts. She watched Patrick ogle her brown leg as the bare foot swung loosely in mid-air.

  “What are you doing here on a Tuesday?” she asked setting her glass down.

  “I quit my job,” he said simply, looking out at the setting sun.

  “No!” she gasped, her eyes wide. “Why? Because of this cake thing? Oh Patrick, you shouldn’t have.”

  “No, I should have. And no, it wasn’t because of this cake thing. That was just the final push I needed. As for that cake thing, it’s being handled.”

  “Sam?”

  “Sam.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  Patrick stared past her with a smile. “Yeah, I think she’s going to be just fine.”

  Layla let that sink in for a bit.

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  He turned to look at her. “Well, I guess that depends on you.”

  “I mean for money.”

  He laughed out loud. “Trust me, I have plenty to tide me over until I figure it out.”

  He gave her a teasing grin. “Worst case scenario, I was once told that my abilities in bed were worth a cool half-million dollars.”

  Although she was still concerned about his prospects, Layla laughed at that.

  Then it hit her, Patrick was here…with her…for good.

  Instinctively she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him toward her for a kiss. He started in surprise but caught on quickly enough, wrapping his strong arms around her and pressing her into his body. The book fell off her lap to the ground as she awkwardly readjusted herself.

  Eventually, she gave up and just brought her leg over to his other side so she was straddling him. His hands slid down the back of her shirt and over her shorts to stroke her bare thighs. It all just felt so damn good…so damn right.

  She pulled herself away to look down into his face as if confirming that he was really there. “I should have believed you when you said we could make this work.”

  “Is that you’re way of saying you’re happy to see me?” he asked grinning up at her.

  “Ecstatic,” she laughed.

  “Care to prove it?” he said, wriggling his eyebrows.

  “Yeah,” She looked out over the town below her house. “We should probably take this inside before we scandalize the entire town.”

  “Well, there’s a come-on if ever I heard one.” With that he lifted her up out of the porch swing and took her into the house.

  As he carried Layla past the threshold of the large white house she lived in, for the first time in a long time, Patrick actually felt like he was coming home.

  This was their home.

  28

  DECEMBER

  “If you don’t stop that, we’ll never get out of bed,” Layla murmured as Patrick pressed his body against hers.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he muttered into her head.

  “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “But baby it’s cold outside…and you’re so warm.”

  “Do you really want to disappoint the kids? I’ve got 180 cupcakes that need icing and delivering this afternoon. That would be an unfortunate start to your first Christmas in Olla,” she reminded him.

  He grunted.

  “Besides, you’ve got to cover the firm while Saul plays Santa.”

  He grunted again, slightly more convinced.

  Layla twisted around and rested her chin on his chest. “How about,” she patted him on the chest, “if I promise to make it up to you tonight?”

  He grinned down at her. “Don’t make promises that amazing body of yours can’t keep.”

  “Trust me, this body is more than able.”

  He watched her as she jumped out of bed, throwing the covers off both of them. She wandered over to the closet in nothing but the pair of panties she normally wore to bed. Watching her ass wriggle underneath the white cotton fabric tempted him all the more and he had to fight to keep the growing evidence of that in check underneath his own boxer shorts.

  “Ugh,” he turned to groan into the pillow. Then he pulled himself up to get dressed with her. To be honest, he was actually looking forward to how Christmas unfolded in his new hometown of Olla.

  “I feel like I’m in a Thomas Kinkade painting,” Patrick said as he walked down to town, arm in arm with Layla. It was early, so still a bit dark outside, the town not quite awake yet.

  “Isn’t it nice,” she said, snuggling close to him despite the crispness of the California weather, which barely hinted at being called “winter.”

  Growing up in the cold and snow of the East Coast, both of them were used to white Christmases. Olla made up the difference by going all out with decorations.

  Big red bows with evergreen trim were attached to every light post. Each house was decorated, from the outrageous Morttenson residence that seemed to have not met a Christmas decoration it didn’t like, to even the most Grinchiest, sporting a simple wreath on the front door.

  They made their way to Main Street which had evergreen garlands criss-crossing it. Each shop had flocking plastered over their front window, which almost made it seem like snow had indeed fallen.

  Patrick walked Layla to the front of the newly reopened Di-vine Delectables bakery. Thanks to an exceedingly glowing review by Samantha, much to the chagrin of Spencer Simon who was still the butt of jokes Los Angeles, business was brisker than ever.

  They had thought about suing based on the first review but in the end decided it wasn’t worth it. The money would have meant nothing to Spencer and frankly, Layla had had enough of lawsuits. Besides, Samantha’s review had restored her reputation, and it was good enough for both of them to know Spencer was squirming under the scrutiny of the Hollywood eye.

  But today it would be dedicated to a special occasion.

  “Thank you for walking me to work, sweetheart,” she s
aid standing on tip toes to kiss him.

  Patrick leaned down to plant his lips on hers. “You’re quite welcome, darling.”

  They laughed at their little custom. Then Patrick made his way across the street to the Law Offices of Weinstein & Fitzgerald.

  After Patrick had settled things down in Los Angeles, selling his condo, finalizing his resignation from Lion Studios, and taking care of other details, he’d spent a good month just being lazy. He’d explored several wineries in Napa, made trips into San Francisco to enjoy the city, even taken up mountain biking.

  Eventually the lawyer bug had bitten him and he sought out Saul for a bit of help in that area.

  Saul laughed. “I was wondering when you would come around,” he said pouring them both a glass of whiskey.

  Patrick took the glass with a grin. “Well, I needed to get a feel for the lay of the land first.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “Better than the first time I set foot here.”

  “Now you’re sounding like me when I first came.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s a good sign.”

  They sat in silence sipping the whiskey.

  “You know,” Saul said leaning back in his chair and looking around thoughtfully. “I’ve been thinking about expanding this little firm of mine. The wine business, when it comes around, can be somewhat complex, not to mention handling the occasional dog and cat fight nonsense.”

  “In that case, you’ll probably need someone to help you secure and pay the rent on a new space, and help out with the work load,” Patrick said catching on.

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm.”

  One week later they had moved into the current location with two offices instead of one. As it turned out, the wine business was a bit complex, but fascinating. It incorporated all aspects of law from intellectual property, to environmental law, to property rights, to business structure. Patrick loved it.

  He was able to cash in all the stock options he’d gained working at Lion Studios, just in time for their major Jake Steele blockbuster to hit the theaters during the holidays. He ended up with so much money that he actually preferred getting paid with the occasional bottle of wine these days.

  “Ho, ho, ho!”

  He looked up over the contract he was studying and laughed when he saw Saul. The man was a dead ringer for St. Nick. It was no wonder he was the one tapped to play the role at the elementary school.

  “What do you think? Will it be another year believing Santy Claus is real for the kiddies.”

  “Heck, even I’m convinced.”

  “Well, let’s close up shop for a while so you can help carry all those cupcakes your beloved has been slave-driving poor Di-Anne and Bree into frosting all morning.”

  “Fine with me,” he said, happy to take a break to be with Layla for a while.

  When they entered the bakery, Saul again bellowed out the trademark greeting of Santa. Contrary to Saul’s assessment, the women were having a blast, each with a bag of icing in hand that they expertly swirled around now cupcake at a time. They laughed as they danced to the music playing. The sound of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You was blasting through the shop, which was closed today for a “Special Event.”

  I just want you for my own

  More than you could ever know

  Make my wish come true

  All I want for Christmas is you

  Patrick smiled as he listened to the lyrics. He couldn’t have said it better himself.

  “And here I thought Santa Claus was a myth,” Layla said taking a gander at Saul. “And look, he brought me my very own special present.”

  Patrick came over to kiss her quickly in between cupcakes.

  “We’re almost done here fellas,” Di-Anne said, finishing up a row of cupcakes.

  The bell above the shop rang and Mario stepped inside. “I’ve got the van ready.”

  Patrick and Saul went to work loading the cupcakes that were already done, each decorated in a swirl of white with red and green edible glitter sprinkled on top.

  When everything was done and loaded, they left it to Bree, Mario and Saul to drive up to the school. Di-Anne offered to stay behind to clean up, despite the protests of everyone. With the promise that she would at least make an appearance later on, she left it to Layla and Patrick to walk on their own the mile to the school.

  “So, you liking Christmas in Olla so far?” she asked.

  He looked over at her in the Christmas apron and Santa hat with a jingle bell on top that she would be wearing to serve cupcakes to all the kids. It was a festively silly look for her and he loved it.

  “More than you can imagine.”

  “Nothing like New York, I’m sure.”

  “I still can’t believe you’ve never been.”

  “Not at Christmas time. My parent’s always took advantage of the weeks I had off from school to head down to some tropical location or another.”

  “Well, you’re in for a treat.”

  “Does that mean your mom is okay with me now?” she asked with a teasing smile.

  “Little by little,” he assured her. “It helps that you got me ‘outta that city a sin,’” he said, mimicking his mother’s words. He pulled her closer and hugged her to his side. “Don’t you worry about my mother. Once she meets you, she’ll fall as head over heels as I have.”

  “I guess we’ll find out next week.”

  “It’ll be perfect,” he said. “Just you wait.”

  He thought back to the words to the Mariah Carey song. Hopefully, he would be getting what he wanted for Christmas this year…forever.

  29

  “Okay, so I’m not divorced.”

  “Well, legally you were never married,” Patrick pointed out, “But yes, let’s avoid all talk of Boris.”

  “Not a problem,” Layla said smiling.

  Boris had long since been deported back to Belarus, not that she had heard anything from him since Los Angeles. She still couldn’t believe that she’d been living such a lie for 5 years. It made what was sitting right there next to her on the plane all the more appealing.

  “And we definitely don’t live together.”

  “Got it,” she said, laughing.

  Layla and Patrick were sitting in first class seats on their way to New York so that Layla could finally meet his family. She was going through the rules to make a good first impression with his mother. She hated not being completely honest with the woman, but she trusted Patrick’s judgement.

  “You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas, so I had to improvise,” she chastised, thinking of the fancy plaque she had bought for his new law office.

  “You could never disappoint me sweetheart.”

  “You also never asked what I wanted,” she added, giving him a mocking pout.

  “Hmm,” he brought on hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “The great Patrick Fitzgerald is all seeing.”

  He opened his eyes and winked. “Trust me, you’ll love your present.”

  Patrick watched Layla as she finally fell asleep next to him. He’d been overly confident with Layla regarding his mother. Yes, Marjorie had warmed to the idea of her son dating a black woman a bit. And yes, the fact that Layla had got him out of L.A. had helped. But that was like saying a Dixie cup had helped bail out the sinking Titanic. Perhaps it wasn’t that dire, but it was’t great.

  All the same, Marjorie Fitzgerald had solemnly promised to give Layla Brown the benefit of the doubt and be on her best behavior. At least his brothers and sisters were somewhat on board, being from a younger generation. Having gone through the gauntlet themselves with their own significant others, they could sympathize.

  The pilot announced the beginning of their descent, which roused Layla from her slumber. She found him smiling down at her and gave a sleepy smile back.

  “Here we are,” she said.

  “Here we are.”

  The plan was that the entire family woul
d be at his mother’s house to greet them. The idea should have terrified her, but she had a feeling in this situation it would be a nice little buffer between her and the daunting Fitzgerald matriarch.

  It helped that Patrick had given her some idea of what presents she should get for everyone. It had resulted in quite the shopping trip. Six siblings and eighteen nieces and nephews! It was mind boggling.

  After checking in to their hotel in Manhattan, they took a cab out to Bay Ridge. Layla lay back against Patrick’s chest as she watched them leave the lights of the city, go through tunnels and pass by neighborhoods that became increasingly more neighborhood-like.

  After what seemed like forever they pulled up on a street with row after row of small townhouses, most of them cheerily decorated for Christmas. Layla pulled herself up to look out the window at the street Patrick had grown up on.

  The house they stopped at was cheerily decorated in multi-colored lights. She could see the decorated Christmas tree through the front window, along with a crowd of people already there.

  “Looks like the party has already begun,” he said, peering over her shoulder.

  Layla took a deep breath as he paid, then she opened the door. She observed the crowd, laughing and talking happily as Patrick came out beside her. He handed her one of the large shopping bags full of presents, while he took the other.

  “Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “They’ll love you, I promise.”

  When they made their way to the front porch and rang the bell, they heard the hubbub of conversation on the other side quiet down a bit.

  An attractive woman, probably in her mid-40s answered the door with a smile.

  “Patrick!” She exclaimed. Then her pretty blue eyes darted to Layla, the excitement even more evident. “And you must be Layla. Welcome! Come on in.”

  “Hello, Kathleen,” he said swinging the arm holding presents around her as he hugged her tightly.

  Layla wasn’t sure how to follow up, but Kathleen saved her the trouble by bringing her into a hug just as she had Patrick.