The Omega Team: Lethal Intent (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 7)

by L. J. Garland

  Clyde scrunched up his face, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling, apparently deep in thought. “Nope.”

  “Crud.”

  He dropped his gaze to Jamie’s then held up a finger. “But I do know something that may help.”

  “What’s that?”

  Clyde took off toward the kitchen.

  Panic ensued. “No. Clyde, wait—”

  The kid disappeared through the door.

  “Shit.” Jamie took off after him. He burst through the swinging door and—

  Smack!

  Oof! He slammed into Clyde’s back. The kid stumbled forward, catching himself just before he fell to the floor. What the hell? Why had the guy stopped right inside the doorway?

  Jamie looked across the room to where his breakfast date—Remember to ask her name, damn it!—stood with coffee cup in hand and a bemused expression on her lovely face.

  Oh, well, yeah. Totally get why the kid stopped where he did.

  “Sorry about that, Clyde.” He patted the guy’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Sure, man.” Tendrils of red crawled up his neck. “I’m good.”

  “Let me introduce you two. Clyde Brown, this is, um…?” Jamie gestured toward the sexy blonde he’d met just the day before.

  “Lily Vaughn.” She held out her slim hand.

  Clyde grasped her fingers and shook. “Nice to meet you.” When he stepped back, his entire face turned beet red, his focus still locked on Ms. Vaughn.

  Jamie cleared his throat. “So you were going to show me something?”

  The kid jolted, twisting toward him, his face blank for a moment then filling with comprehension. “Oh, right. It’s, uh, over here.”

  Pivoting on his heel, he headed to the bookshelves. Jamie joined him. Reaching up, the kid pulled a thick binder down.

  “This is all you should need. Everything you want to know is listed inside. It’s really straightforward.” Clyde bent his head forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “What you said about the baked goods out front makes perfect sense, now. I’d drive to Sacramento, too, man.” He winked then handed the binder to Jamie as though it were the Holy Grail.

  Jamie glanced down at the book. Desserts du Jour lay scrawled in black marker across the bright-blue cover, the edge of the pages inside yellowed and dog-eared with a several poking out—favorite recipes? So this was Aunt Bethany’s baker’s bible. He tightened his grip on the book, feeling wholly incapable and quite a bit overwhelmed. Could the contents of this binder really help him?

  Clyde straightened. “Well, my work here is done.” He turned toward the door. “Very nice meeting you, Ms. Vaughn.”

  She smiled. “You, too, Clyde.”

  He left, the bell over the front door jangle-jinging to announce his exit.

  Jamie lifted his gaze to Lily’s—and, wow, did the name suit the woman. She was as gorgeous as any flower he’d ever seen.

  She smiled. “So that was Clyde.”

  “Yep. He used to work here.”

  She nodded. “You planning to tell me your name anytime soon? You already know mine.”

  “Jamie MacKay. My aunt used to own this shop.”

  “Well, Jamie, I hope you don’t mind”—she held up her mug—“but I helped myself to some coffee. You want some?”

  “Sure.” He ambled to her, noticing her height as he got closer. In her stiletto boots, she came a few inches short of his six foot two. Looking a woman in the eye like this was a new thing for him as he usually went for females who came up to his armpit.

  She faced him, holding out a full cup, and as he accepted, his fingers brushed hers. A hot electric tingle shot up his arm. What was that? He looked from his hand to hers. That was new.

  Sure, he’d been attracted to other women, even thought he was in love a couple of times, but he’d never experienced an actual physical reaction through a simple touch. Touch? Hell, I barely grazed my fingers over hers.

  He lifted his gaze hers, finding her wide gold eyes staring at him. Wait, did she feel that, too?

  She blinked, the surprised expression on her face vanishing, then walked past him, heading toward the prep table. “This coffeecake looks amazing.”

  “Thanks.” A sliver of guilt at his deception stabbed him as he took off after her and rounded to the far side of the table. When she sat, he realized his mistake in bringing her to the kitchen for breakfast—the table was too high. The prep table was designed for people could to stand and work, not to sit and eat at like a regular table. After setting Aunt Bethany’s binder facedown and his coffee mug on the table, he dragged his chair around the end, closer to hers, then slid the plates to the proper places. “Try it. See what you think.”

  She set her mug on the table then picked up the plate, cut a healthy bite with the fork, and tucked it into her mouth. “Mmm.”

  “Good?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  He took a bite as well, and tart cherries and cream cheese burst onto his tongue. Buttery coffeecake laced with sweet icing on top created a delicious combination. Damn, it tasted good. His gaze slid to Aunt Bethany’s notebook. Did she have a recipe for cherry-cheese coffeecake in there? And if she did, would he ever be able to make it as good as the Danish sitting on the plate he held in his hands?

  Lily sipped her coffee. “You going to tell me what’s in that notebook?”

  He patted the cover. “Just some info Clyde wanted to make sure I had. Nothing interesting.”

  “I could waterboard you to get the information.”

  “Wow.” He chuckled. “Your curiosity runs to the dark side.” What are you doing, Jamie? You’ve never worked this hard to impress a woman. You can tell she’s special. And you’re not a liar. Own it, man. “Alright, so there’s this wedding coming up. A double.”

  “A double wedding?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Right here in the Cedar Valley town square. You saw the bridezillas yesterday when you came in. Both tall, dark hair.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “They double-teamed me, and I kinda got roped into the gig. How could I say no?” He shrugged. “They’re my cousins. I couldn’t let them down.”

  “Of course.” Her features softened a bit as she drank more coffee.

  “Problem is, I was banking on Clyde to make the cakes for me.” He stuffed another bite of pastry into his mouth. “I don’t know anything about wedding cakes. Never made one.”

  “You’re a baker, and you’ve never made a wedding cake?”

  Okay, dude. Tell her the whole deal. He forked up more coffeecake, jamming in a huge bite and talking around it. “I’m not really a baker.”

  “What?”

  “Mr. Penny, the guy who owns the greengrocer down the street, and who also happens to be an attorney, or used to be—”

  She frowned.

  “The place where you borrowed the broom to knock my drone down?”

  Her pink lips formed an O, and she nodded.

  “He handled my aunt’s estate. Gave me the keys to this place a little over two weeks ago.”

  She glanced around. “Okay. Pieces are falling into place now. What’d you do before?”

  “Air Force.” He flipped the notebook over then tapped the cover. “Anyway, Clyde’s heading off to college, but he assures everything I need to know is in here. It’s my aunt’s recipes.”

  “He’s leaving now? It’s April. Mid-semester. Most new students don’t start college till the fall.”

  “He’s going to WSU. Maybe he’s not planning to stay in the dorms. Needs to find an apartment. Get a job before the semester starts.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She peered at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I could torture him for you. Yank out a molar, a fingernail? He’ll talk.”

  Was she serious? For a moment, he thought so…till her eyes twinkled. He laughed. “No. We’ll let Clyde slide this time. You are one scary woman.”

  “Thank you.”

  He chuckled again then took another bi
te, chewed, and swallowed. With his fork, he gestured toward his plate, the pastry over half gone. “That’s really good.”

  She looked from his plate to hers. “You didn’t make this.”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Not this or anything out there in the cases.”

  A little vee formed between her eyebrows as she frowned. “Why?”

  “You.” The vee deepened, and he fought not to reach over and smooth it away with a gentle rub of his thumb. “I couldn’t let you show up here this morning and offer you a powdered doughnut from a name brand bag I bought at the minimart.”

  “So, where…?”

  He squirmed in his seat. “I drove to Sacramento last night.”

  Her golden eyes widened. “You bought all of this? In Sacramento?”

  “I wanted to impress you.” There. Now she knows the truth.

  The little vee vanished as her eyebrows lifted high. “You did.”

  “Good.” After getting up, he went and got the coffee pot to refill their mugs. “I do plan to get this place up and running. Decided that just yesterday. Getting Aunt Bethany’s baker’s bible feels like her approval somehow.” He returned the pot to the coffeemaker then sat next to her again. “Anyway, there’s a lot to do. Not to mention the weddings are in two months.”

  “Two months?”

  “Yea, ma’am.” A self-deprecating chuckled rumbled up his throat. “And I don’t have a clue how to decorate a cake, much less make one of those roses. I’m sure Kat and Brigit will want a million each.”

  “A rose made out of icing?” She waved her hand. “Those are easy.”

  Hope speared him. “You know how to make one?”

  “Sure.” She set her plate on the prep table. “Do you have some icing and a decorator’s bag?”

  “I’m not sure what that is, but feel free to look around.” He hopped up and headed toward the storage pantry where he’d left the remaining ingredients he’d used for his wedding cake bombs—which had been a total fail because Kat and Brigit had loved them. By the time he returned, she’d set several items out on the counter. “I hope canned icing is okay. It’s all I have.”

  She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. “I can work with that.”

  Leaning against the table, he watched as she scooped icing into a triangular bag then screwed a slanted tip. She held up a short metal stick with a flat top. “This is a rose nail. I’ve made roses directly on cakes, but for demonstration purposes, this is easier.”

  “And we have no cake.”

  She laughed, the sound dancing through him and shooting straight to his groin. “Right. So this is how you do it.”

  She squeezed a glob of icing in the center then angled the tip and made several sweeping arcs with the tip. Before he could blink, a large white rose stood on the nail head.

  “Voila.”

  “You made that look so easy.” He stared at the art in her hand. “Can you do it again? Slower?”

  She scraped the head clean, depositing the icing back into the can. Within seconds, she’d created another rose, the ends of the petals slumping a little. “I can do much better with fresh made buttercream icing.”

  He had no doubt she could. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

  Angling away from him, she scraped that rose into the can as well. “I…spent a few months working in a, um…family-owned bakery. In Milan.” It seemed for a moment she might say something more, but then she whipped out another rose and frowned. “This one’s horrible. My hand is warming the icing in the bag, so the petals aren’t stiff enough.” She wiped off the nail and set the items on the table. “But you get the idea.”

  Speaking of crazy ideas, one popped into his head. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?”

  She turned toward him. “Actually, I’m…in between jobs at the moment. What did you have in mind?”

  “Come work here. The weddings are in two months. It’s clear you know what you’re doing. And there’s so much that needs to be done to get this shop up and running.” His words tumbled out fast. He worried she’d laugh and walk out. “I could really use your help. What do you say?”

  “Okay.”

  Had he heard her right? “Okay?”

  “Sure.” She gave him that sexy smile. “Why not?”

  He wanted to kiss her, even took a step toward her. But he stopped himself. Not too professional…no matter what vibes you think you’re getting from her. “Great.”

  They sat down again, and she picked up her coffeecake. “This really is delicious.” She took another bite. “I can’t guarantee how long I’ll stay. At least through the weddings. And I thought— Ow!” She cupped her jaw.

  “What happened?” He leaned toward her.

  “Cheh-wee pid.”

  Surprise rocketed through him. “Cherry pit?”

  She nodded, and he took her plate from her, setting it on the table.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmph.” She shook her head. “Quack toof.”

  “You cracked a tooth?”

  Cringing, she nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as her face scrunched up with her pain. She hunched over, her blonde hair tumbling forward.

  Aw, crap. This wasn’t good. He slid from his chair and dropped to his knees in front of her. Reaching over, he brushed the golden-wheat strands to the side and leaned forward. “Let me see.”

  She lifted her head. Opened her eyes. A big grin curved her pink lips. “Gotcha.”

  It took a moment for the word to infiltrate his brain. “You…. What?”

  She laughed.

  The sound poured through him. She was okay. She’d tricked him—like he’d done to her earlier with the fake call to the Sheriff. He chuckled, too, but then her gaze met his, and her giggle tapered off as something indefinable snapped into place between them.

  His focus dipped to her mouth again, lust diving hard and fast to his groin. His fingers still twined in her hair, he slid his hand to cup the back of her head. He shouldn’t, especially since he’d just hired her and she’d most likely quit in the next breath, but he couldn’t stop himself. He eased forward, and so did she, meeting him halfway.

  His lips brushed over hers, and the same tingling as before speared through him, hot lust shooting straight down to his toes. He edged closer, moving between her parted thighs and gathering her into his arms. He held her so flush against him he almost pulled her off the chair.

  Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to hers, rubbing and nipping and licking. Her fingers dug into hair while her other hand drew little circles along the back of his neck. She opened for him, her hot little tongue meeting his, darting and caressing, challenging for dominance. She tasted of cherries and coffee and whispered promises of what could be between them. The world fell away as he sipped from her lips, thirsting for more of her.

  Skin. Need to touch. He skated his hand down her back, dipping his fingertips beneath the soft knit hem of her shirt. His palm against the small of her back…heaven. Inching lower, he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and just under her panties so the tips of his fingers glided over the top of her rounded ass. He pressed his palm against her, urging her closer. And she responded, sliding to the very edge of her chair and wrapping her long legs around him. When the juncture of her thighs rubbed against his shaft, he moaned. No way she could miss his desire for her.

  Never had a woman kissed him like this, leaving him breathless and so turned on he didn’t know which way was up. Didn’t care.

  Somehow, he got to his feet. Set her on the edge of the prep table—without knocking plates or mugs to the floor. Maybe they were farther down the table? Who cared where they were? He’d take her here. Now.

  He withdrew his hand from her silky hair and slid it beneath the front of her shirt to cup her breast…and what a wonderful handful. He dragged his thumb over her nipple, the tight bud poking through the lacey fabric of her bra. She moaned and arched toward him. God, she was so responsiv
e to his touch. What would she be like when he drove into her wet heat?

  Shit. Condoms. Upstairs.

  He left her mouth to dot kisses along her jaw. “Lily.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  More kisses along the side of her neck. “Bed.”

  She tilted her head back, and he licked the hollow of her throat. “Mmhmm.”

  “Upstairs.”

  “Yes.”

  He took her mouth again while he rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. She tilted her hips, rubbing herself against him. Damn. If he didn’t get her upstairs quick, he’d come like a randy teenager right here.

  Jangle-jing!

  The front door. Crap, he hadn’t locked up the shop. Someone was out front.

  “Jamie.”

  His name on her muffled, breathy voice drove him nuts, and he seriously considered ignoring whoever might be out there. But what if…?

  She pulled back, her eyes glazed with desire. “Um, I can—”

  “It’s probably my cousins.” It almost killed him, but he released her and stepped back. “I’ll get rid of them.”

  Her cell phone buzzed, and she pulled it from the holster clipped at her waist. She tapped the screen then frowned. “It’s okay. I need to go anyway.”

  She slid off the table then smoothed the front of her shirt and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  Don’t let her get away. “Okay, yeah. I’ve got stuff to do, too.” Nice save, idiot. “So, how about starting work tomorrow at nine? We can go through my aunt’s notebook. Make plans.” You’re talking to her about work? You suck, dude.

  “Sure.” She smiled—sunny, as though they hadn’t been about to do the nasty upstairs in his room.

  Something odd zinged between them. A moment ago, she’d been ready to go upstairs with him, and now she’d totally closed herself off. What was that about? He couldn’t let her go without getting to the bottom of it. “Let’s finish breakfast before you go. Sit. I’ll be right back.”