by Lindsey Hart
“I’ve wanted to take my mom on a holiday since forever.”
Instead of looking disappointed, Trey’s gorgeous face broke into a huge grin. He had a resting non-bitch face. He was so handsome it was painful. When he smiled. God. It was like someone switched on a generator inside and fired up the lights. It was potent, that grin, and he knew it. He used it as a weapon, and it worked. Ambi felt cut to shreds just seeing it.
Trey produced the cheque that he’d thrown on the table earlier from his pocket. He pulled out a pen and filled in the amount on the top line. When he handed it over to her, she took it without her hands shaking- the world’s biggest accomplishment. She nearly gasped when she noticed he’d made it out for seventeen thousand.
“That should cover the Mexico thing. Or take her anywhere. Wherever you decide.” He stuck out his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, Miss Danby.”
Ambi threw the cheque carelessly onto her passenger seat. She brought her palm up and spat on it before she slapped it to Trey’s. He never broke eye contact with her, even when his fingers closed around hers and lingered for a second too long. Payback for the spit trick.
“A real pleasure,” he repeated as he let her hand go.
He stepped back and she slammed her car door. “I’d have more pleasure eating turds,” she hissed and then she peeled out of her parking spot and down the street before Trey could see right through her and realize that it wasn’t true at all.
CHAPTER 4
Trey
Trey almost couldn’t believe Ambi agreed to meet with him. Then again, she’d cashed the cheque a day ago, and when he’d called what he assumed was her office phone to ask about cake testing, something so stupid even he couldn’t keep a straight face when he called, she’d reluctantly agreed. She was a true professional and she’d made it clear, by rattling off a place and time in a curt voice and hanging up on him, that she wanted as little to do with him as humanly possible.
He planned to stretch that little out as far as he could. He’d get as much mileage out of that cheque as anyone else, and then some. He still couldn’t believe that once she found out she was going to be dealing with him, she’d actually taken the money. Ok, so maybe he played her a little bit but he seriously never expected it to work. Which meant she was either desperate for the business, really wanted a vacation for her mum, or he meant that little to her that she figured the extra money was well worth having to put up with him. If he had to bet on it, Trey would put his money on the latter. College was years ago. They were a couple for like, two seconds. Okay, it was almost a year, but still. Ambi had obviously moved on.
So why couldn’t he?
When he arrived at the giant freaking bakery, he felt like a pathetic puppy waiting. She was not there yet.
The bakery had that industrial feel, a small counter at the front with baked goods and a menu stating prices, but most of the activity was taking place behind the scenes. The building was large, a brick construction that extended far past the small frontage.
The hum of conversation, the clang of baking sheets and pans, and the delicious smells of freshly baked breads, pastries, and cakes reached Trey as he stood by the window, arms crossed over his thick black wool pea coat. He tapped one square-toed leather shoe in slight annoyance.
He hated lateness and Ambi knew it. It was always the one thing he couldn’t stand, even when they were together. Nothing picked his ass faster than someone not respecting his time. So of course, she showed up twenty minutes late.
Trey watched her nondescript black sedan edge into a parking spot that was huge, but she made it look too small. She’d always hated parallel parking. She got out, dropped some money in the meter, pulled out her phone with one gloved hand, and checked it.
He didn’t miss the secret smile that blossomed over her coral-pink lips or the puff of satisfied breath that wafted above her head after.
Ambi swept into the bakery like a queen. Her head held high, her glorious raven black hair cascading down her houndstooth coat in the front and the back. The coat was cute, so Ambi style that Trey almost choked on his own spit. It nipped in at the waist and flared out. She had a set of tight black skinny jeans on that were tucked into sensible winter dress boots with no heel.
“Trey.” She said his name in a neutral tone as soon as she spotted him, which was right away, but somehow the word hung in the air like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she was glad it was out.
Ambi’s eyes roamed over his figure boldly, and when she turned her nose up like he was nothing special and this was just another meeting, his chest compressed. Yeah. He knew her better than that. Her indifference was worth a thousand fucking words. She liked what she saw, that’s why she didn’t want to look at him. He jammed his hands in his pockets even though his coat hid any kind of repeat action of the embarrassing office incident from a few days ago.
“Well? Are we going to taste cakes or are you going to stand there all morning pretending that you hate me?”
Ambi didn’t look back at him. She kept her eyes trained on the bakery counter. “First of all, your arrogance knows no boundaries. Second, I’m here because this is a business meeting. Third, I figured you couldn’t be civil so I’m just going to leave instructions for several cakes to be set out. You can taste them and tell me what your final decision is.”
Fuck that. If Ambi thought she was walking out that door within the next hour, she was sadly mistaken.
“Actually, that’s not how this is going to work. I have this cold. Been fighting it for a few weeks now. I can’t taste a thing at the moment. Can’t smell anything either. You’ll have to do the honors and tell me which one you prefer.”
Ambi scrunched her nose at him. Her eyes swept over his face frankly, which made him want to press her up against the counter and let her get real up close and personal. He wanted to plunder her lips, to kiss off that coral lipstick until it was her much lighter, prettier lips below. They were already plump and full, but they’d be much more beautiful ravaged and swollen from his kiss.
“You look fine to me. Sound fine too.”
He shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Right. They can be.” Ambi clutched her tote a little tighter, her knuckles whitening with the effort. She wasn’t as calm and composed as she was letting on. “For example, I know that you’re nothing better than a steaming pile of turds candy-coated with a pretty shell and expensive clothing.”
“Most people go for a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Ambi blinked at him and answered in her most sugary tone. “That would be to imply that you’re the type of animal that is strong, powerful, independent, alpha when we both know you’re just a little boy who does his daddy’s bidding. So, no. Turds is a much better analogy.”
“I think it’s a metaphor actually.”
Ambi blinked again. “Whatever, Turds. A shit in sheep’s clothing has a nice ring, actually. Do you want to play at this? Fine. We can do that. At the end of the day, I’ll be seventeen grand richer and you’ll still be working at a company you despise, letting your daddy run your life.”
Her barb dug deep. The Ambi he knew never would have stooped so low. The Ambi he knew also loved him. Now? He was public enemy number one in her books. He didn’t blame her and her fire only made her that much more attractive. He hadn’t broken her spirit. She was still alive and kicking and ready to stick it to him. Fuck, if she knew how sexy that was, she’d paste on a happy smile and do his orders willingly. Her easy compliance and capitulation would be so much less thrilling and dangerous than the wildcat in front of him.
“Amberina!”
Ambi spun at the sound of her name and his attention was dragged up to the counter where an ancient woman stood. She was so short that only her grandmotherly wrinkled face with her shining eyes and flushed wrinkled cheeks topped by an enormous white chef’s hat, were visible behind the counter.
“Marcella. Good morning.” Ambi’s face broke into a r
adiant smile that wasn’t at all forced.
For a split second, Trey was actually jealous of a granny with flour smeared all over her wrinkled cheeks. There was a time when Ambi reserved those smiles just for him. Or at least, he was included on the list of sunny radiance she gifted the world. Now? Now he was just a turd on her shitlist. He deserved to be there, but it didn’t stop him from wishing.
“You’re here for the cake tasting. I have three set aside for you. The usual and two new ones we’ve been experimenting with. You’ll be the first to try them.”
“So, we’re your guinea pigs?”
Ambi shot him a dirty look while Marcella blinked. Obviously, his attempt at humor fell flat.
“No, sir, we’ve been working on these cakes for months. We wouldn’t feed them to anyone if they weren’t ready,” Marcella corrected like he was too dense to understand. To make it worse, she had one of those sweet granny voices that said that it wasn’t her first rodeo when it came to dealing with idiotic individuals.
“Turd,” Ambi muttered under her breath as she swept past him. The sweet fragrance of her trailed in her wake, lemons, and flowers, intoxicating him, turning his knees to something close to goo.
Trey shook his head. Right. He’d asked for this. He could damn well play along. Ambi was a formidable foe, but she had her weaknesses. He used to know just about all of them. He didn’t plan on keeping her as a foe for long.
Marcella showed them to the back, a small room that looked very officey, with tiled floors and generic white walls. There were three collapsible tables set up and each one contained a huge, four-tier cake fully done up.
“These are just models,” Marcella explained. She was dressed all in white, white chef’s coat, white pants, and a huge hat. She kind of looked like an adorable granny-style snowman.
Trey had never had a grandma. Both his sets of grandparents died either before he was born or right after. He thought that if he’d had a grandma, he would have wanted her to look like Marcella. Sugary, sweet, and soft looking, a little round with the softest loving arms, but with an acerbic wit of steel.
“Models?” Okay, this was new to him.
“They don’t set out freshly baked cakes to sit and spoil for months,” Ambi hissed. She rolled her eyes. “This is what they’ll look like. They’re just cardboard. But if you want to taste one of those, go ahead.”
“You’re the one doing the tasting,” Trey grumbled.
Ambi turned to Marcella and her smile was back. It was like it was on auto-pilot. As soon as she wasn’t looking in his direction, it was safe to use it.
“What are the new flavors?”
“Well, we have a dark chocolate with buttercream frosting, a red velvet with cream cheese, but it’s not your regular red velvet and a gingerbread egg nog latte for Christmas.”
“The cake is gingerbread eggnog latte?” Trey stared at Marcella in disbelief.
She broke into a smile that gave her wrinkles wrinkles. In short, she was entirely adorable. She was entirely too charming, the perfect warm kind of granny and he could see why Ambi chose this bakery instead of some big corporate machine.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I’ll have a taste of that then,” Ambi said.
Marcella nodded. “I’ll go get you a plate. One minute.”
Ambi dug the toe of her boot into the tile while Marcella was gone. She turned and showed him her back, which was still the sexiest back on the planet. She refused to talk to him and for once, he didn’t know what to say. He was still trying to come up with something when Marcella swept back into the room.
“Here you are, sweetheart.” She handed Ambi the plate. “How’s business going? And your family? Everyone’s well?”
Ambi’s back was to him, but he could hear the joy in her voice. It hurt. It shouldn’t, because he’d done it to himself, but it did.
She received the plate from Marcella, with a single slice of cake on it. It came with a metal fork. Trey’s entire world narrowed to the point of watching her scrape that fork across the glass, gather up a small piece of cake. That fork. The cake. Her hand never wavered as she brought the fork to her mouth. To those full, lush, coral-hued bow lips. Her mouth parted and the fork slipped inside. Her lips caressed the tines and her eyes closed in pleasure.
When the fork popped out again, it was licked clean. He nearly died on the spot.
“This is amazing, Marcella. Not that anything I’ve ever tried wasn’t, but I think you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
It caught Trey off guard. Something so simple, so mundane as tasting something, shouldn’t be so- so… sexual. He felt lightheaded, the rest of his body just as light, like he’d float off to the ceiling and dissipate there, amongst the fluorescent lights and white speckled rectangular tiles. Something warm and ridiculous blossomed in his chest. It leaked into other parts right after, his stomach, his limbs, his heart. He was suffused with it, flooded, and it erased all the common sense he should have had. The barriers between him and Ambi crumbled, at least in his mind.
He was moving, stepping towards her. She stood there, too shocked to move as he drew near. He had no business being there, in her physical space. It felt too private. Too real. Yet there he was.
“I changed my mind,” he said huskily. Darkly. “I do want a taste.”
Ambi’s eyes fluttered shut, just for a second. He should have stopped. He should have, but he didn’t. He gripped Ambi’s jaw, so warm and delicate and alive, between his thumb and index finger, tilted her face up and slammed his lips over hers.
CHAPTER 5
Amberina
He’s kissing me. Oh my god, he’s actually freaking kissing me right now.
Ambi’s brain seriously checked out, because that was her first thought. Not anything along the lines of that he was her mortal enemy, that he tasted like a shit sandwich, that he was foul and gross and evil, and she needed to shove him away.
In fact, her brain was so messed up that her default reaction was to shut off all common sense, let down her guard to a pathetic new low, and lean into him like she was freezing to death and he was some lifesaving kind of fire. Her instincts should have kicked up and kicked into flight mode, but they chose a different mode entirely. Instead of running, she was taking in the body heat seeping through his jacket. She was shutting her eyes and drown in the sensations. Firm lips, demanding and unyielding, going to war with hers. Fingers that were just as unyielding yet gentle on her jaw. His fingers were scalding. His lips were even hotter.
When Trey’s tongue butted up against her lips, she crashed back to reality. Trey was horrible. She’d loved him and he’d shattered her heart so he could get rich instead. He’d never tried to stand up for her. For them. He’d left her crushed and broken-hearted without so much as a backward glance.
As the facts crashed in and crushed her all over again, she got her scrambled wits together enough to pull back, since both her hands were full. Trey’s lips detached from hers. His body heat left her, but he’d planted his insidious warmth inside of her like a virus. Her lips burned. Her entire body burned. Her brain felt like it was boiling inside her skull.
“You asshole!” Ambi stabbed out with the fork in her right hand, barely missing Trey’s chest. “Get away from me!”
He stepped back but shot her a shit-eating grin that made her stomach churn and set fires in all the wrong places and a volley of cold tingles to other, worse spots. Namely the one throbbing between her thighs. Trey had strings anchored in her belly, in her thighs and legs, in her lips and the traitorous parts of her heart that couldn’t get over him and the stupid mush of her brain that couldn’t forget him. He was pulling those strings, yanking on them.
It couldn’t happen. She could never let that happen. This was a job. That was it. Trey was an asshole. He had been and always would be.
“Ambi, come on, I was just-”
“You were just nothing!” She was aware that Marcella was watching the whole heated exchange,
probably with no small amount of interest, but she couldn’t get away with letting Trey freaking kiss her. She took a menacing step forward. “I told you not to use my name,” she hissed as she drew back her other hand.
It was a shitty use of cake, but fuck it, she’d already tasted it. She was going to order it no matter what Trey thought about it. What she didn’t eat would just go in the garbage anyway and she’d been taught never to waste food.
Trey might be a good six inches taller than her, but she had the power of rage behind her arm. She launched the big piece of delicious, frosted, amazing, gourmet cake right into the center of his face. And smooshed. She rubbed and twisted until she could feel his nose and lips grinding against the plate. When she pulled back, plate in hand, the cake didn’t come with it. It remained mashed all over his smug, asshole face.
“Well, that’s a vast improvement, I must say.” She grinned as Trey blubbered and scrubbed at his face with one big, strong hand, trying to clear his eyes. “I thought I’d give you that taste. Marcella doesn’t have a public bathroom, so you can do double duty and lick it off yourself.”
Marcella tsked and cooed behind her. She swept in and brushed Ambi aside, taking Trey’s arm. It looked hilarious, little old Marcella, who was probably all of five feet tall, leading Trey, who looked like a giant next to her, out of the room.
“You can use our staff bathroom in this case,” she cooed, all worried, loving grandmother.
Ambi rolled her eyes. She would rather have rubbed dog poo in Trey’s face. The thrill of getting back at him was already wearing off and she was left with the tingling in some really unwanted parts. Okay, her parts weren’t unwanted. The tingling, however, was.
“We’ll take that one, Marcella,” she called out of the room, down the hall. “Thanks, I’ll stop by later on to pay for it and give you all the details.”
“Okay, dear, take care,” Marcella called back and Ambi had to smile.
