by Kira Archer
“Maybe it just means you are sweet and delicious and addicting…even if I know you’re bad for me.”
Eric slowly nodded. “Maybe.” He reached out and gently stroked a thumb over her cheek. “Then again, just because something is sweet doesn’t mean it’s bad for you. Maybe we just need to learn to balance it with everything else in our lives.”
Nat looked up and gave him a small smile. “Maybe.”
“But we’ll never figure it out if you keep pushing me away.”
Nat sighed. “Eric, I’m not sure I’m ready…”
“I’m not asking for a huge commitment, Nat. I’m just asking…that you give us a chance. Let’s go out a few more times. See if we like each other. For more than the obvious,” he said, rubbing his thumb along her lower lip.
Her breath kicked up a notch and she turned slightly, pressing her face into his hand, gazing up at him from under her lashes.
Eric’s own breath grew ragged, heat searing through him from where her breath burned hot against his skin straight to his groin, which was beginning to ache for attention.
“Well, I know how I feel about you in that department, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” she said, her voice low and husky and oddly uncertain.
“God, how can you even doubt it?”
Nat bit her lip with a little shrug and it was all he could do not to toss her up on the counter and take her right there, show her how well suited they were, in all departments. He closed his eyes and dropped his hand, his mind furiously struggling for any image that might erase the thought of her, legs spread wide in invitation, with that incredibly sexy smile on her lips.
Grandma. Uncle Joe in his Speedos. Jared picking his teeth with a fork.
He took a tremulous breath and opened his eyes to find her watching him, a growing smile on her lips.
“If we didn’t have to work…” he said, his tone both warning and promising.
“But we do,” she said, her grin widening as she pulled away.
He couldn’t let her go just yet. Not until he knew for sure they were good.
“Nat, are we…?”
“Yeah. We’re good.”
He drew her close and kissed her, his blood surging when she rose on her toes to kiss him back.
“Mamma Mia” started playing from his pocket.
Nat pulled away from him, laughing. “Seriously?”
Eric groaned and silenced his phone, then tried to bring her back into his arms.
She playfully pushed him away. “All right, enough of that nonsense. We’ve got work to do or we’ll never be ready for tomorrow.”
“Yes, boss lady.”
Nat smiled that sweet smile of hers that made all other thoughts evaporate from his mind and then she turned back to whatever she’d been going to make. When her attention was caught by the rolling rack of pastries they had ready for the next day, she froze, and Eric braced himself for another battle.
“Eric. What are these?” Nat stared at a rack full of honey-laden baklava.
“Okay, hear me out.”
“I thought you agreed that serving a Greek dish in an Italian bakery—”
“Yeah, I know. Not good for branding. But come on! It’s so good. I grew up watching my aunt make this stuff. It’s my absolute favorite.”
She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. “You made all this on your own?”
“Yes.”
“When.”
“Last night.”
The eyebrow rose higher.
“Well, I was bored and couldn’t sleep and you weren’t returning my phone calls so…”
She at least had the grace to blush at that.
“Just taste it.”
Before she could protest, he snagged a piece and popped it in her mouth. She batted his hand away, covering her mouth while she chewed. He licked the honey from his fingers, watching her face for any sign of enjoyment. Or disgust.
Her eyes widened.
That’s a good sign, isn’t it?
Then her mouth puckered. Not a good sign. She quickly spun and headed for the sink. It took her a good minute and a half to get it all out of her mouth. Bad sign. Really bad sign.
“Damn,” he said, “I thought I had that batch.”
She gulped down a glass of water. “Well…the first layer wasn’t bad, so that’s an improvement. But the middle layers were like some sort of toasted tar. Like you somehow managed to both burn and undercook them simultaneously. That takes serious talent.”
He scowled at her. “I’ll get it right, eventually.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Look, I understand that you don’t think it should be on the menu, but it’s my favorite dessert and I want to give it a shot. So, here’s my suggestion. Since the reason we are going to the market is to give the neighborhood a taste of what we’ll be offering, as you say, let me take the baklava—or, you know, a few good batches that you’ll have to help with—and we can see how it goes. If people start stumbling around in confusion at the utter audacity of an Italian bakery, that’s not run by an Italian, daring to serve a Greek dessert, I’ll toss the baklava and never mention it again. Scout’s honor.”
“Uh-huh. Were you even a scout?”
“I was actually. Eagle scout.”
Her eyes widened again. Ha! Got her there.
“But,” he continued, “if it does well and people like it, as I know they will, I’ll put it on the menu. Deal?” He held out his hand.
A corner of her mouth quirked up. “Fine, deal.” She took his hand and shook it, not resisting when he towed her closer.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just helping you. You’ve got a little honey…” He leaned down and kissed her, sucking at the sticky spot on her lip. “Right there.” He kissed her again.
She leaned into him, slipping her arms around his waist. But before they could get too far into their make-up make out, the front door to the bakery opened and Gina and Jared came barreling in. Nat stepped away from him and turned to busy herself at the counter.
“All right,” Jared said, rubbing his hands together. “Your lovely baking assistants are here.”
Gina rolled her eyes but grabbed an apron and put it on. “Point me where you need me,” she said.
Eric wished he could grab Nat and whisk her off to his apartment to show her just how much he’d been missing her the last few days. But they had a shit-ton of pastries to bake. Time to get to it.
Chapter Sixteen
By noon the next day, they only had one tray of baklava left and Nat was forced to admit they had been a smashing success. While several customers thought it an interesting item to have on the menu, none of them seemed to care in the least. They found it much more hilarious to be served Italian pastries from a place called Tuscan Treats by a six-foot-four blond-haired obvious descendant of Vikings. But no doubts about it, Tuscan Treats was off to an amazing start.
They’d already given out nearly all the brochures they’d brought, handed out dozens of cards, and set up appointments for three catering consultations. Better yet, they were selling the pastries they’d brought, and even the baklava, faster than they could put them out. At the rate they were going, they’d be out of things to sell before the market closed at two o’clock.
Even better was watching Eric as he interacted with his customers. He’d been a little hesitant at first, wanting to hang back and supervise instead of actually being a part of the sales. But Nat wasn’t having any of that. If he wanted to run this bakery, then he needed to be more than the head honcho in the back. He needed to be a part of the whole process.
As the morning wore on, Eric got more and more into it. The more the customers complimented the pastries, the more excited they were over the opening of the bakery, the more Nat could see his pride shining through.
Eric finished boxing up a dozen cannoli for his customer and came to stand beside Nat.
“It’s going well,” he said, his
smile stretching from ear to ear.
Nat had never seen him look so happy. “It is going very well. You should be very proud. You’ve really built something amazing, I think.”
“We’ve built something amazing,” he said, nudging her with his elbow. “None of this would be remotely possible without you.”
Nat’s cheeks burned, but she was pleased. “I don’t know. You are very determined. I’m sure you would have found some way to make this work.”
Eric laughed. “Maybe. But having you on board has made my life…”
He paused and looked at her in a way that made her knees go weak. Good God, does the man know what kind of effect he has on me?
“Better,” he finished, reaching out to brush a thumb across her cheek. “Nat, I…”
Nat gasped and froze, her body running hot and cold in such quick succession her head spun. Because walking toward her, his arm around a woman Nat had thought was his assistant, was her ex-fiancé Steve. Nat would have been very, very happy to have never seen the cheating bastard again. And she certainly didn’t want to see him when she’d been standing out in the sun and wind all morning. Yes, she hated him, but she was vain enough to want him to think she looked good.
“Nat?” Eric asked.
“Shit, he’s coming this way.” Nat looked around, wondering if Steve had seen her yet. Can I duck under the table? She could probably hide behind the boxes. No, that wouldn’t work.
“Who’s coming?” Eric asked, thoroughly confused.
Nat opened her mouth to answer but Steve turned in their direction and Nat jumped behind Eric. Not the ideal hiding spot maybe, but he was by far the biggest thing around. She put her hands on his waist, squeezing to keep him in place, and leaned her forehead on his back.
“Natalie?”
She apparently hadn’t ducked fast enough. She took a deep breath and came out from behind a frowning Eric.
“Steve. Hi.” She turned and looked up at Eric, patting his hip. “There, got that apron tied for you. Just had to get the knot out.”
“Um, thanks.” Eric was looking back and forth between Nat and Steve, his frown deepening.
“I thought I saw you back there,” Steve said, a smile on his thin lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s good to see you again.”
Nat nodded, hoping the smile she plastered on her face wasn’t as stiff as it felt. “It’s good to see you, too.” Her gaze flicked to the smirking woman on his arm. The one sporting a massive diamond that looked distinctly familiar. Nat swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat and acted like nothing was bothering her. “How are you?”
“Wonderful.” His grin grew wider, though it still didn’t touch the cold depth of his eyes. “Work at the restaurant is busier than ever, amazing reviews pouring in. We’re booked solid for the next two months.”
“That’s great,” she said, praying her voice held steady. Nat couldn’t keep from glancing at the woman again, Phoebe, she believed her name was. Especially since good old Pheebs was draping her hand over Steve’s arm in just the right way for her diamonds to catch the light and shine right on Nat’s face.
Steve noticed Nat’s glance and nodded at his companion. “You remember Phoebe?”
“Yes, of course. Good to see you again. Nice ring,” she said, unable to resist mentioning it.
“Thanks,” Phoebe purred. “It was Steve’s grandmother’s. She was so excited when we got engaged, she insisted I have it.”
“Really?” Nat’s blood was beginning to boil. All the rage she’d thought she’d gotten over after Steve had run out on her a month before their wedding was flooding back. Bringing with it an overwhelming urge to curl into the fetal position and cry her heart out. Which just pissed her off even more. She hadn’t planned on saying anything, but screw it.
“He told me it had been his mother’s when he gave it to me. Though it looks much better on your finger than it did on mine. It takes a good solid finger to pull off that look. My fingers are much too slender. It just looked gaudy on me.”
Phoebe stiffened, her eyes narrowing dangerously. But Nat was amused to see Steve was getting as much of the glare as she was. Old Pheebs hadn’t known that the ring had been Nat’s first. Nat resisted the urge to smile.
“So,” Steve said, his voice full of ice. “How’s your little business going? I think I heard somewhere that you’re doing something with cupcakes? Driving a…food truck, is it? Or no, a cupcake truck, I suppose.”
Somehow he managed to pack a whole encyclopedia’s worth of disdain in those two little words. Nat straightened, her hand knotting in her apron. That insufferable bastard!
“Though, maybe I was mistaken,” Steve continued, his gaze taking in the table in front of them. “Did that not work out?”
Her arm brushed against Eric and she looked up into his concerned face. He’d moved closer to her during her little exchange with Steve, standing with his arms folded and just a hair in front of her like some sort of bodyguard.
“Actually,” Eric said, his voice even colder than Steve’s, “Nat owns the most successful mobile cupcakery in the city. In fact, she’s been so successful that I hired her to set up my own bakery. I wanted to learn from the best.”
“Ah,” Steve said, his gaze clearing a bit. “So she works for you.”
“No. She consults. At least that’s how it started out,” Eric said, slipping an arm around her waist and looking down at her with an adoring gaze. “But who could resist this gorgeous, amazing woman?”
He drew her in closer and kissed her on the forehead.
Nat didn’t know what to do, or say. The part of her that wasn’t still in shock over Steve and every insulting word out of his mouth was grateful for the part Eric was playing. But at the same time, the lie didn’t sit right with her. Though…with the way Eric was looking at her, she couldn’t tell it was a lie. And didn’t that just curl her toes.
Steve cleared his throat and Nat realized she and Eric had been staring at each other like a couple of lovesick puppy dogs.
“Oh, sorry,” Eric said, sounding anything but. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Stan—”
“Steve,” Steve said, glaring.
“But Nat and I need to get going. Our relief just got here and we’ve got somewhere to be.”
Gina and Jared had indeed arrived, and if Steve knew what was good for him he’d get out of there before Gina jumped the table and raked him from neck to nuts with the hands she was already curling into claws. She was not a fan.
Steve seemed to have the same idea. “Well, it was good seeing you again, Natalie.” He took Phoebe’s arm and nodded at Eric before pulling his pissed-off fiancée away from the Tuscan Treats booth.
Nat slumped against Eric. “Thank you. I’m sorry about that,” she said, embarrassed almost to the point of tears that he had been there for the whole exchange, but incredibly grateful at the same time.
He kept his arm around her waist, squeezing her tight again while he yanked off his apron with one hand. “Gina, can you and Jared…?”
Gina grabbed the apron and nodded. “Yep, don’t even worry about it. Take care of her.”
Nat glanced at Gina, only vaguely realizing they were talking about her. She distantly understood she was moments away from losing her shit. Maybe getting away from all the nice market people would be a good idea.
Before she could gather enough wits about her to say something, Eric had gathered her up and was marching her away from the market toward the pub on the corner. Hot damn, at that moment she seriously loved the man. The pub was exactly what she needed. They had booze there. And chocolate. And booze. And didn’t that just sound lovely? Anything that would wipe from her mind the image of the man she’d intended to spend her life with and the spectacular bitch who was wearing her ring.
Nat hated that the encounter was affecting her like this. Hated that Eric was seeing this weak side of her, the side she didn’t show anyone, except Gina. But for the life of her, she couldn�
�t rein it in. It had taken months after her breakup with Steve to pull herself back together and she’d obviously not gotten over him. Seeing him again, with that woman, hurt her on a level she hadn’t even known was still possible. She didn’t know why. She didn’t love the man anymore. Never really had, she was realizing now. She hadn’t felt a fraction of what she felt for Eric for Steve.
And didn’t that thought just make her head spin? Forget it. Thinking hurt too much. She didn’t want to do it anymore. She was going to go all Scarlett O’Hara and think about it tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to make it all go away.
She prayed the pub had chocolate martinis.
Chapter Seventeen
Eric watched as Nat downed her third chocolate martini. Maybe bringing her to a pub wasn’t the best idea. Honestly, he’d just wanted to get some food in her, hoping that would help. She hadn’t eaten all day and the pub was one of his favorite eating holes. They had the best pulled-pork sandwiches he’d ever eaten. And Nat wasn’t really a drinker, from what he could tell. Other than sipping on some wine and the couple shots she’d done that one night at the club, he’d never seen her drink.
But now, it seemed like she wanted to make up for lost time. Not that he really blamed her. Adrenaline was still pumping through his system from the desire to pummel that massive asshole of an ex of hers. Eric was generally more the “kill them with laughter” type guy, but he’d be more than willing to make an exception in this case. He couldn’t even imagine someone like Natalie with that shit bag.
Though seeing him explained a few things. Nat’s commitment phobia, for instance. Not that they were at the commitment stage yet. But even getting the woman on a date had been harder than graduating from college. It was good to understand why. Partially. Because it also explained why Nat seemed so strangely reluctant to believe that Eric actually wanted her. Not just wanted to sleep with her but actually wanted her. If that oversize douche bag had dumped her for another woman, that helped explain why Nat didn’t seem to realize how amazing she was. He was just going to have to try harder to prove it to her.
