Baking With A Rockstar (A Brooksville Novel Book 1)

by Jasmin Miller

  Gabe sighs in response. “Would you please stop calling me that? We talked about that earlier.”

  “Not a chance. I love it too much.”

  “What on earth is wrong with calling me Gabe? That’s my name, after all.”

  “Nothing at all. But I think you deserve something special. And since you’re my knight in shining armor, my very own Prince Charming, so to speak, it’s totally appropriate.”

  I watch the two of them in fascination, briefly thinking this is better than TV. Gabe throws his hands up in the air and turns to face me with a pleading look.

  Holding up my wet hands, I shake my head and chuckle. “Don’t even look at me like that, Gabe. I can’t control her any more than you can. Trust me, I’ve tried. She’s like a wild animal, impossible to tame.”

  “Fantastic. You couldn’t have told me that before I invited her to stay with me. She might eat me in my sleep. Then it’ll be all your fault.” He points a finger at me accusingly, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

  I’ve never seen Gabe this riled up over something and can’t help myself but tease him a little. “I think you should be safe. She’s a bit crazy, but not violent. She might nibble a little on you though, if you don’t pay attention.”

  The kitchen towel I threw at Mo not too long ago smacks me in the face as she clears her throat. “Excuse me, you two, I’m right here. And I’m not crazy, at least not in a bad way. You’re perfectly safe with me, Gabe.” She gives him an innocent smile before batting her eyelashes. “Just make sure all of your doors and windows are locked at night.”

  He groans and turns around, but not before I can see the amused expression he’s trying to hide on his face. “I’ll leave you guys to it. The delivery guy should be here any minute with the food, so I’ll wait in the foyer for him.”

  “Do you need help, Gabe?” I dry my hands off on the towel.

  “Nope, thanks. I’m all good.” With that, he walks out of the kitchen.

  Turning back around to Monica, I start drying off the dishes. “So, how do you like the guest house? Is there anything you need?”

  Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t been there yet? For some reason, I thought you’d already seen it.” She gives me a big smile before continuing. “It’s absolutely beautiful, Charlie. It looks like someone took the cutest little beach cottage and put it right into his backyard. He told me one of his sisters decorated it for him. It’s all in a nautical theme, just gorgeous.”

  “Oh nice. If it’s anything like the rooms the girls decorated at their parents’ house, I bet it’s beautiful. They do have a knack for that sort of thing.”

  “They do.” She pauses for a moment. “I just wish it was a little closer to the main house, but that’s okay. I guess I need the exercise anyway, right?”

  “Are you sure, Mo? You don’t want to overdo it either.” Naturally, I worry, planning on talking to Gabe about it later. I need him to keep an extra good eye on my best friend. The last thing we need is her getting hurt even more because she’s too proud to ask for help.

  Giving me an exasperated look, she pushes herself up further in the chaise. “Yes, I’m sure. Now let’s stop talking about me. Tell me what cake you made.”

  She’s looking around the kitchen with her eyes pinched into little slits, trying to see as much as she can from her position. “Where is it?”

  “Such a one-track mind.”

  “Always. Or maybe we should call it a two-track mind? You know, food and knocking boots, of course.”

  My eyes widen at the unexpected comment. “What on earth is knocking boots?”

  “Sex.” She doesn’t even blink an eye.

  Shaking my head at her, I chuckle, completely used to her quirky, yet charming personality. “Wow. Your vocabulary never ceases to amaze me. Does anyone actually say that?”

  “Sure. I learned that one on the road somewhere.” She shrugs her shoulders as if we’re discussing laundry, but I know she loves to play with me like this. She and Hudson are very alike in that aspect—they both enjoy making me all flustered.

  She taps her fingers on the armrest of the chair. “Now tell me already, C. You know I hate waiting.”

  I stick my tongue out at her. Sometimes when we’re together, it feels like we’re jumping back in time, our current age completely forgotten. “I made a pink champagne cake.”

  “Ooh, I’m intrigued.” She leans her head on the top of the chaise, giving me big googly eyes. “Please tell me more. It’s incredibly sexy when you talk about your baking.”

  This woman.

  After laughing at her comment, I walk around the corner and retrieve the cake from its hiding spot. I put it up on top of the bar, so she can see it, waving my hands around it in total presentation mode. “It’s a three-layered pink champagne-infused cake, with a classic vanilla buttercream frosting. As far as decoration goes, I kept it simple and thought sugar pearls would give it a nice touch.”

  We’re both quiet for a moment, marveling at this mouth-watering sugar concoction.

  After having my fair amount of batter and frosting during prepping the cake, I know it’s going to taste delicious.

  Monica finds her words first. “Wow. Look at that beauty. I’m sure that would be a hit for weddings.”

  Nodding at her, I love that we’re in tune so often. “That’s exactly what I was thinking of. It’s a classic with a nice twist to it, due to the color on the inside and the champagne.”

  Licking her lips, she keeps staring at it. “Can’t wait to try it.”

  I’m about to snap my fingers at her when footsteps approach.

  “Charlie?” Hudson enters the kitchen, and I don’t have to look at Monica to know she’s staring at him too.

  Can I blame her? Big, fat no.

  My first thought when my eyes land on him is sex on a stick.

  Monica hasn’t even been here for a day, and she’s already rubbing off on me with her bluntness. This time, I’d have to agree with her, though.

  He’s freshly showered, his damp hair slicked back in a lazy way, and he smells delicious. I’m sure my mouth actually hangs open a little, but I don’t care a single bit.

  My best friend clears her throat while Hudson walks over to my side of the kitchen island, but my focus is completely on him.

  Sorry, Mo.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I look at him, craning my neck back a little to see his face.

  He looks at me for a long moment without saying a word, just staring into my eyes, like he doesn’t have anything better to do. I smile at him in a daze, feeling—and probably looking—like a lunatic.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Mo getting up, her crutches quietly squeaking on the hardwood floor. “I’ll go see if Gabe needs any help.”

  I nod absentmindedly, not sure she even noticed.

  Coming a step closer, Hudson pulls his lower lip into his mouth, making my heartbeat go crazy.

  Did it suddenly get hot in here or what? I’m close to fanning myself with my shirt.

  “So...” His voice is low, melodic, and soothing, making me want to close my eyes so I can focus on it better. “Grandma just told me she and Paul are going to have a night in tomorrow.”

  Confused by his statement, I take a moment to answer. “Oh, okay. Good for them.” And I mean it. I’ve met Paul enough times now to know that he’s a really nice guy. Both he and Hannah have been widowed for quite a while, and they seem to make each other very happy. What more could they want?

  For some reason, he looks nervous, and I’m not exactly sure why. “Yeah. Anyway, she said she wouldn’t mind babysitting if we wanted to do something.”

  Ohhhhhhh. Now we’re getting somewhere, my nerves along for the ride too. “Oh.”

  He rubs the back of his neck before clearing his throat a couple times. “I’m not sure if this is weird, but would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

  A fluttery feeling sets in my stomach as I nod, not even
hesitating for a second.

  That was easy.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Hudson. I’d love to.”

  He beams at me, like I’m his fairy godmother and just granted him three wishes. Whatever works, I’ll take it. “Awesome. Can you be ready by six?”

  We grin at each other while my heart speeds up wildly at the thought of having a date with him in a day. “Absolutely.”

  The doorbell rings in the background and someone’s arguing, but I just can’t seem to care at the moment. All I want to do is stare at this man in front of me some more.

  “Perfect.” His voice is low and raspy, making the hair on my body stand up in anticipation.

  He lifts his hands to caress both of my cheeks softly before bending down to give me a tender kiss. My lips tingle with a longing for more, but I know this is neither the right time nor place for it.

  Sighing heavily when the contact breaks a moment later, I’m also relieved because two seconds later, Monica and Gabe walk into the kitchen.

  “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He says it low enough so only I can hear it.

  Me neither, Hudson. Me neither.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Almost two hours later, we all sit at the big table that’s filled with leftovers of the most delicious Italian food I’ve ever had.

  “You seriously are the cutest thing ever.” Monica coos at Mirabelle, who’s happily sitting on her lap. “And I think you totally know it too. Good for you, girl. Own it.”

  The two of them have been glued to the hip whenever Mo is around, but I’m not surprised—Mo is definitely the funny aunt type.

  Needless to say, my little girl is eating up the attention everyone’s been giving her. She’s soaking it up, trying to play with everything and everyone she can possibly get her fingers on—preferably Mo’s strawberry blonde hair or Gabe’s fun shirt sleeve.

  She’s alternatively playing with both while they sneak little looks at each other. After Gabe’s grumpy mood earlier, I was actually surprised he willingly sat down next to her. Having Mirabelle around seems to have softened him some, bringing him back to what I’ve come to consider his normal self.

  Hudson and Gabe’s sister, Dahlia, is sitting across from them, her long, blonde-dyed hair all waves and braids. She’d be the perfect model for a hippie photo shoot. Absolutely stunning.

  Pulling apart a piece of baguette in her hands, she looks up at Monica. “Gabe said you broke your thigh bone during a car accident? I hope it’s not half as bad as it sounds. What did the doctors say about your recovery? Did they tell you how long it will take to heal?”

  The table is still filled with dirty dishes, but everyone seems to be engaged in conversations, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of this big meal yet. It’s been such a fun time that neither Hudson nor I have wanted to get up to clean the mess either. Thankfully, no one seems to mind.

  Monica sighs, absentmindedly playing with the palm tree-looking ponytail on top of Mirabelle’s head. “They said on average it takes about three to six months to heal, sometimes longer. The fact that my bones were broken in several places makes it a lot harder to predict. Time will tell, or so I’ve been told, at least. The hardest part will probably be staying off my leg for a while, it’s already driving me absolutely crazy. And of course, it all depends on how diligently I’ll follow my physical therapist’s orders. I’m going to meet up with mine tomorrow. He came with stellar recommendations, so hopefully he’s as good as everyone says he is.”

  “What’s his name?” Dahlia’s twin, Rose, leans forward now too—her dark hair such a stark contrast to her sister’s—stopping the round of peek-a-boo she was playing with Mirabelle.

  “Alex Brown.”

  Rose leans back in her chair, chuckling in amusement. Dahlia joins in, making them look more similar than I’ve ever seen before.

  Rose is the first to speak again. “Well, if anyone should be able to fix you, it’s him. Plus, he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life. And you have a legitimate reason to stare at him for copious amounts of time now. For that alone, it’ll all be worth it.”

  Gabe groans from the other side of Monica.

  Dahlia points at Gabe. “You used to be best friends with him, right up until college. I don’t think you’ve ever told us what happened.”

  “And there’s a reason for it, so drop it.” Gabe’s reply is sharp, the annoyance clear in his voice. It reminds me of his earlier behavior, and I wonder if Monica brought up her physical therapist before with him, unknowingly hitting a nerve. Apparently, he’s had enough of it because he gets up from his chair, silently picking up dirty dishes to carry over to the kitchen.

  The twins share a look, probably having heard that answer before. Monica looks after him, a deep frown etched on her forehead.

  Rose waves him off, leaning toward Monica again as if she’s getting ready for round two of her interrogation. “Just ignore him. He always gets grumpy when someone brings up Al—”

  “Dahlia, how’s your little project going?” Hudson interrupts, and I wonder if he’s trying to change the subject.

  The smile that breaks across Dahlia’s face reminds me of Hudson when he talks about his music. It’s mesmerizing. “It’s going really great.”

  He turns to me. “Dahlia opened up Brooksville Academy of Arts last year, and from what I’ve heard, it’s becoming quite popular.”

  She nods in response. “It’s certainly keeping me busy, I can tell you that much. It’s exciting though, I love it. So far, I’ve been mainly focusing on kids. The classes are so much messier, but also so much more fun. It’s a nice reminder of why I love art so much. Seeing the excitement on those little faces is pretty much the best thing ever.” Her eyes sparkle, and I’m sure her beaming smile could light up a small planet. I always think it’s special to see someone be so passionate about something they love.

  Who knows? Maybe that’s exactly the way I look when I talk about my bakery.

  Her hands fly through the air as she continues, moving as fast as the words come out of her mouth. “There are so many things I’d like to do. I want to get a bigger building and expand the courses I’m offering. Maybe we can even get some other creative areas incorporated too. There have been lots of studies that show that art, and other creative outlets, can help children that struggle in school, or even help with battling health issues. I’d like to work with schools and support them however possible. And I’ve also been thinking about a summer camp.” She takes a deep breath, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, I’ve been having lots of ideas, but it’s still in the beginning stages. It’s very exhilarating.”

  I’m in awe, pure awe.

  What she’s trying to do with her academy sounds inspiring, even more so when children are the main focus and how to help them.

  When I look at Hudson, he’s still staring at his sister.

  He seems a bit shocked by her little speech. “Wow, I don’t know what to say. I’m thrilled for you and your plans, and that it’s all going so well. I had no idea you were this serious about it. It’s great, Dahlia. Really great. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

  “Thank you.” She looks down at her hands for a moment before gazing back up at him.

  Hudson leans closer to her across the table. “Please let me know if you need any help with anything, okay? Anything.”

  She shakes her head before he can say more. “No, no. You have enough on your plate already. Plus, aren’t you going to leave again soon? Usually, you only stay for a short while before you head back out again.”

  A sudden commotion takes place under the table, followed by an outcry of pain from Dahlia and a silent staring contest between the twins.

  “Excuse me.” Dahlia stands up, after mumbling a lame apology, and joins Gabe in the kitchen.

  It looks like she’s limping a little.

  Limping?

  What on earth?

  Wait. Did Rose just kick her, because of what she
said about Hudson leaving again soon?

  For some reason, I didn’t even think about that statement. I mean, in the end, isn’t that exactly what Hudson told me when we first met? That he’s home for a break from his music and to write before going back on the road?

  That definitely didn’t sound like an extended trip.

  As if he knows he’s on my mind, Hudson’s hand squeezes my thigh gently under the table before he entangles our fingers. “You okay?”

  I nod because I’m not sure what to say to him right now. Obviously, it’s not my place to tell him to stay, not that I could ever ask that of him anyway. He’s got a big career and being on the road is a huge part of it.

  No news there, regardless of how much I dislike the thought of it.

  Instead, I try and focus on the wonderful company tonight. Spending time with this awesome family and getting to know them better has been great. No matter what happens with Hudson when he leaves town again at some point, I will still stay in Brooksville. Having a few friends will be good, and necessary.

  This situation makes it blatantly clear, though, that Hudson and I have to talk about us, what we are, and where we’re going. For now, I try and focus on the positive, like this wonderful evening and our date tomorrow.

  Three long hours later, I finally close the front door behind the last person leaving. “Gosh, they can be exhausting.”

  Hudson chuckles next to me, silently agreeing with me. He takes my hand and turns me around. “Come on, you party animal, time for bed.”

  I stifle a yawn and nod. It’s late, and sleeping does sound good, especially when it’s in his really big and extremely comfortable bed. Even more so when he’s in there with me.

  Without any protest, I let out a long sigh and follow him up the stairs.

  “Charlie?”

  “Huh?” Apparently, I spaced out for a second.

  Hudson chuckles. “Are you gonna get ready in your room? You know, it might be easiest to just get some of your stuff and put it in my bathroom and bedroom. I mean, just, if you want, of course.”