by Jodi Vaughn
“No.”
She grinned. “Did you think there would be hummingbirds in there?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure. It looked so good, I wouldn’t care if it had crows baked in there.”
She let out a laugh, breaking the tension in the small garden.
He lifted the cake to his mouth. Flavor exploded on his tongue on his at the first bite.
“Well?”
He chewed thoughtfully. Suddenly he bit down on something hard. Sweetness dissolved into bitterness. He grimaced and hurried to the nearest shrub. Poking his head through, he spit out the rest of the cake.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood.
When he turned around, Lilliana was glaring at him. “So you didn’t like it?”
He shook his head. “Whatever was in that cake is not fit for consumption.”
“What do you know? You’re no expert.” She curled her hands into fists and turned on her heel. She stormed back to the main house, cursing under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“Perfect. Now she hates me.” Killian grabbed the cake box and headed to the trash can by one of the cabins. He opened the lid and shoved the rest of the cake inside.
Chapter 8
Barrett drummed his fingers on his desk as he waited for Killian to answer his call. Just when he was about to hang up, the Were answered.
“Hello?”
“What took you so long? You have your head shoved in a box of donuts?” Barrett thundered.
“Actually, a cake box,” Killian said sullenly.
“What?” Barrett glared. “Never mind. Did you find out anything about the Natchez Bakery?”
“I found out their cakes suck,” Killian replied.
“What else? Did you see anything else going on? Did you check out their kitchen? Any hint of drug trafficking?” He rubbed his temple. A slow throb began building inside his brain.
“I walked in the front door. Looked around. And bought a cake. Which I severely regret.”
“You did no recon.” Barrett was trying very hard to keep his anger in check.
“Can’t you just let one of the Guardians do some recon? And when you find the culprit, I’ll just assassinate them. It’s kind of my jam.”
“Killian,” Barrett growled. “I understand that Louisiana Assassins under Boudier were paid killers…”
“Yes.” The joy in Killian’s voice was evident.
“But I’m not Boudier. I like to have all my information before I willy-nilly start killing everyone.” Barrett closed his eyes and counted to ten.
“I know. I like you much better than Boudier. Trust me. It’s just that I’ve been assassinating so long that I don’t know anything else.”
That was the problem. Barrett wanted the Assassins to see a different side of life out from under Boudier’s control.
“Go back to the Natchez Bakery and get me some real recon.”
“Yes, sir,” Killian answered.
“And Killian? Don’t buy any more cakes.” Barrett ended the call.
Chapter 9
Lilliana wiped her hands on her jeans after she finished putting the finishing touches on the soup. Tonight, they started out with six guests for dinner. At the last minute, another guest signed up, taking the total up to seven and her stress level went up to ten.
“Go ahead and serve this while I start on the main course.” She looked at Mrs. Spell. “I hope the guests understand the main course will take another twenty minutes to finish and plate. People these days don’t know how to slow down and enjoy their meal.”
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll make sure to keep them talking. Especially that good-looking one.”
“What good-looking one?” She jerked her gaze up to the older lady.
“The one that looks like a rock star.” She waggled her gray eyebrows.
“Killian.” Her stomach sank. She knew immediately who Mrs. Spell was talking about.
“Yes.” Her smile widened. “I see you’ve met him. He’s certainly a cutie, don’t you think?”
“I think he’s rude, with no taste in culinary arts. He probably eats gas station pastries and thinks it’s the best he’s ever had.” She glared at the filets she’d just thrown on the grill. Thankfully all her guests had order either rare or medium rare so at least the steaks wouldn’t take very long to cook. She’d already prepped the twice baked potatoes and wilted spinach with parmesan so those wouldn’t take long at all.
“He’s a man, honey. They all think gas station food is wonderful.” Mrs. Spell grabbed a couple of soup bowls. “Besides, once he has had your dessert tonight, you’ll make a changed man out of him.” Mrs. Spell headed out into the dining room.
“If he hated my Hummingbird Cake at the bakery, he’ll hate the Hummingbird Cake I’m serving tonight.”
She turned her attention on the food and set her timer.
Mrs. Spell walked back into the kitchen carrying the empty soup bowls on a platter. “Your French Onion Soup was a hit. No one left a drop in their bowl and even the lady who said she hated onion loved it.”
“That’s good.” She felt the tension slide off her shoulders. She finished plating the main course and topped it with a garnish. She stepped back and admired her work.
“Oh, Lilliana. That looks amazing. And smells divine.” Mrs. Spell clapped her on the back. “Hiring you was the best decision I ever made. Business has picked up with you working here.”
“I’m glad.” She gave the older woman a smile. Mrs. Spell had given her a job when no one else would. The pay wasn’t great, but she was also getting a free place to stay. Plus, Mrs. Spell didn’t mind her cooking for the Natchez Bakery on the side.
She turned her attention to making crème brûlée. Dessert was her favorite part of being a chef. Something about turning ingredients into something sweet and comforting felt like her calling in this world.
Some people could heal with medicine. She preferred to heal the world with dessert.
When Mrs. Spell carried the dessert out to the guests, Lilliana grabbed a wine glass out of the cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of Malbec that she’d bought earlier that day. Unscrewing the top, she poured herself a liberal amount into the crystal.
She took a drink of the garnet-colored liquid. She closed her eyes as the liquid slid down her throat in a warm rush of flavor.
Laughter from the dining room drifted into the kitchen. She’d done good tonight. The guests were happy.
Which meant she should be happy.
She grabbed her glass and the bottle of wine. She opened the back door and slipped out into the backyard.
The bright spring day had dissolved into an inky-black night. The sweet scent of honeysuckle played on the cool night air.
She stepped into the garden. She walked down the stone pathway and stopped in the middle of the courtyard. She sat on the stone bench and placed the bottle beside her. She sipped on her wine and watched the water bubbling in the fountain.
“Want some company?” The deep male voice broke the silence of the night. Killian stepped off the path and in front of her.
“Not really.” She wanted to ignore the handsome wolf in front of her, but it was impossible.
He eased his large frame beside her. His male scent washed over her, alpha and sexy and hot.
He stretched out his long legs clad in black jeans and biker boots and looked at her with gray eyes. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a black shirt. Even his long hair was black.
“Mrs. Spell said you were responsible for making our dinner tonight. I wanted to find you and tell you it was the best meal I have ever had.”
“Even the dessert?” She glanced at him under her lashes.
“Especially the dessert.” He grinned. “I’m an expert on desserts.”
“Really?” She tried to hold on to her anger about his spitting out her Hummingbird Cake, but his scent was wreaking havoc on her lady parts.
“It’s a fact.” He p
icked up the wine bottle and gave her a wicked grin. “Mind sharing?”
“Go ahead. But I didn’t bring an extra glass.”
“I thought ahead.” He pulled a wine glass out of his jacket pocket. “I swung by the kitchen when I saw you leaving out the back door.”
“You were watching me?” She swallowed.
He held her gaze. Her stomach warmed.
“Yes.” His deep voice sent a thrill through her chest.
Something about Killian threw her off her game. She’d always been street smart. She had casually dated when she had the time but never really had a serious relationship.
That’s how she liked it. She had goals and dreams and didn’t need a man to complete her.
Especially a hot male like Killian. She’d learned her lesson from her mother.
Get an education. Follow your dreams. Be independent. But most importantly.
Never, ever rely on a man.
She cleared her throat and stood. “I appreciate your compliment on dinner. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” She tried to walk around him, but he caught her elbow.
“I was hoping to…” His voice trailed off. His pupils dilated. And another current of electricity shot through her from his point of contact.
Desire pulsed through her veins. Her breathing increased.
He let go of her elbow, then reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered. His fingertips cupped her cheek. “You smell delicious.”
Her stomach warmed, and lust pooled between her legs. She inhaled deep. His scent beckoned to her, and she couldn’t help but lean into his space.
His free hand rested on her hip and nudged her dangerously closer into his sinful body.
Her hands had a mind of their own and trailed up his arms. She traced the sharp edge of every muscle under her fingertips.
He growled low and bent his head toward hers.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
“We are doing what feels right.” He bent his head and covered her mouth in a blistering kiss.
She opened her mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. Her fingers slid up past his shoulders, and she tangled them into his long hair. She moaned as his tongue slid against hers, kissing her hard and deep and without consequence.
Wicked images of them both naked and writhing against each other until they were wet with satisfied desire streaked through her head.
He moved his mouth to her neck.
“More. I need more.” She pulled his mouth back to hers, and he ground his erection against her wet core.
He slid both hands to her ass and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his lean waist and panted as he continued to kiss her.
He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. He panted and his gray eyes were nearly black with desire. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Her heart shuddered, and she pulled his mouth back to hers. She tightened her heels around his waist and slid against his erection. Pleasure tingled through her clit.
“I know what you need.” He pressed her back against the brick garden wall. He slid his jean-clad erection against her.
“Yes,” she whispered as her head lolled back against the wall. Pleasure built with each glide against her clit.
“That feel good, baby?” He sucked the sensitive place against her neck. “I want to make you feel good.”
“Yes.” She dug her nails into his shoulders. “Please. More.”
He growled and buried his face into her throat.
Pleasure built until a wave of desire spread through her wet heat and throughout every cell of her body. He continued to rock against her until she shivered in the aftershock of the orgasm
“Fuck.” He bit her neck and rocked against her. The scent of his arousal spread throughout the garden. She held him close.
He placed gentle kisses along her neck and cheek. When he let her feet touch the ground, she held onto his arms until she was strong enough to stand.
Chapter 10
Killian tried to get his breathing under control. They hadn’t even had sex but had managed to get each other off.
Strangely erotic. They were total strangers to each other yet he felt like he knew her all his life.
“That was...unexpected,” she admitted.
“Really? I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted you.” He stared into her soul. He couldn’t lie. Not to her.
“I usually don’t get off with males who hate my baking. It’s this rule I have.” She shook her head.
“Hate your baking? I told you I love your cooking.” He frowned. What was she talking about?
“Tonight you did, but you spit…” She straightened at the sound of voices growing closer. She took a step back and patted her hair into place. “I have to go. I have some baking I have to do tonight for deliveries in the morning.” She stepped away before he could grab her.
“Killian, there you are.” Mr. Bruce Davis smiled and pushed his wide-rimmed glasses up on his nose. His wife, Mattie, had her arm looped in his and was sipping on what appeared to be a glass of sherry.
“You ran off before you could have a cocktail.” Mattie held her glass in the air. “I’ve never had such a wonderful meal or better companions to share it with.”
“Yes, yes, Mattie. I quite agree. They certainly don’t cook a meal like this in Philadelphia.” Bruce patted his wife’s hand.
“It was probably the best meal I have ever had as well.” Killian ran his fingers through his hair and stared in the direction that Lilliana had taken off. He couldn’t seem to figure her out. The sexual chemistry between them had been off the charts but afterward, he got the feeling she didn’t like him very much.
It was a problem he wasn’t used to having when it came to women.
“Mrs. Spell says the young lady who cooks for her went to culinary school and French pastry school,” Mattie offered.
“It was money well spent in my humble opinion.” Bruce nodded.
“Yes. Very well spent.” Killian graced the couple with a smile. “If you will excuse me, I have something to do before heading to bed.”
“Good night.” The couple called after him as he headed in the direction of his bike.
He had to get back into the Natchez Bakery and do some recon while it was closed. Barrett was counting on him for some information.
He may be good at killing the bad guys, but right now, he was just on a recon mission.
Chapter 11
Killian leaned against the motorcycle and stared at the back door of the Natchez Bakery. The store closed at nine but the employees had been inside until around eleven. There was still one car parked in the back and a light on inside.
He crossed his arms and tried to think about anything other than Lilliana. But the image of her beautiful face etched in ecstasy kept flashing in his brain. His body hardened every time he thought about the sounds she made as she’d come apart in his arms.
The back door opened, and Killian straightened. He kept his position hidden away from the street lights and in the shadows.
A tall, lanky man glanced around before taking a step outside. It was the man who waited on him earlier that day. He tucked his briefcase under his arm and locked the door behind him. He hurried to his car and slid inside. Even from this distance, Killian could hear the distinct click of the car doors locking.
The man pulled away. Killian watched until the red taillights disappeared down the street.
“Seemed kind of jumpy for someone leaving work,” he muttered to himself.
He shoved off the bike and hurried to the back door. He pulled out a lock picking set and made quick work of the door. He opened the door and stepped inside. He looked around searching for an alarm but didn’t see one.
The building was old, probably on the National Register of Historic Places. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t wired with an alarm. He made his way back to the industrial kitchen. The stainless-steel appliances, enormous mixing bowls, and a long
stainless-steel counter had been cleaned, and all the baking equipment had been put back in its place.
The scent of sugar and cinnamon lingered in the air. It made him think of Lilliana.
He made his way through the kitchen and into the office. An old wooden desk and straight-backed office chair were the only large items in the room. He eased around the desk and sat in the chair. He tried the top drawer only to discover it was locked. He pulled out his lock picking tools and went to work. When the lock finally clicked, he pulled open the drawer.
It was empty except for a key.
“Figures.” He sighed and picked it up. He tried the next drawer. Surprisingly enough, it was unlocked.
He pulled out some papers and files and scanned the documents for any suspicious activity. It contained receipts and orders from various customers. He came across several receipts from a repeat customer who ordered the same thing every time.
The customer was listed as biker guy, and he always paid in cash. And he always ordered the Hummingbird Cake.
“Why would he keep ordering that? It was awful.” He cringed thinking about how the sugar sweet taste had dissolved into something else. Something bitter.
He put the files back and grabbed the key. He walked through the entire store looking for something that the key would unlock.
Thankfully the bakery didn’t leave any inside lights on. It made it easier for him to move about without drawing attention from any passing cars.
He stopped at the display cabinet. The cupcakes and cookies were all gone, the shelves wiped clean. But the cake display where he’d gotten the Hummingbird Cake looked like it hadn’t been cleaned at all.
He walked behind the counter and slid open the glass. He stuck his finger inside and swiped up some white icing. He lifted it to his mouth to taste and then stopped. A faint bitter smell hit him. He lifted the icing to his nose and inhaled.
He cringed.
It smelled like cleaning product.
“Maybe that’s why the cake tasted awful. They didn’t clean the shelves, and some cleaning fluid leaked into the cake.” He slid the glass back and wiped off the icing on a napkin before tossing it in the garbage can.
