A Taste of Trouble Part 16

Chapter Thirteen.

It was the perfect day to hide inside. The winter air was cold and damp, chilling right down to the bone, so Liv was excited about her decision to bring Jake to the bakery.

They walked up to the freshly painted white door covered by the brown awning, which had acc.u.mulated a large amount of long, jagged icicles. She made a mental note to remove those before she opened the doors tomorrow.

Jake traced his finger along the white writing on the front window and smiled. "Great name. Great logo. It's not forgettable. That will help you in the long run with repeat business."

She appreciated his comments. Branding and advertising were what he did best. She'd be smart to take advice from him if he ever offered.

Liv slid the key into the lock. After a few jiggles, it gave way-it must have swelled from the cold-and they entered the bakery. The jingle of the bell marked their presence. Immediately, they were greeted by the smell of fresh paint and a faint hint of chocolate. "Here we are."

She scurried in and reached behind the curtain to turn on the lights while he closed the door, blocking out the air. Jake walked farther into the s.p.a.ce as his head swiveled from side to side, taking in his surroundings. He circled the room, palming the top of the showcase, then brushed his hand across one of the stools.

"You really have a hard-on for pink." His expression was misleading. He was scrutinizing, but the slight upturn at the side of his mouth indicated that he was amused.

Liv stepped behind the counter, running her hand across the smooth laminate. She poked her finger at him. "As if you don't have a pink dress s.h.i.+rt in that expensive wardrobe of yours."

"Having one pink s.h.i.+rt makes me fas.h.i.+onable, not a girl." Jake moved closer to the counter.

"I knew it!"

"You, my friend," he moved in closer, "are going overboard."

Friend?

Instead of dwelling on the negative, she shook it off. "Overboard? Pink is supposed to make people think of sugar and sweetness. Exactly the types of thoughts that make people want to buy baked goods."

"If that's the intention, then you're going to have a very successful business."

Liv couldn't tell if he was mocking. "You don't like it, do you?"

"I love it!" He looked at her with kind eyes. "This place is perfect. I meant that someone would never guess that you would be the type of person to love pink, since it does conjure images of sweetness."

Liv knew what he meant and, unfortunately, he was right. He called it like he saw it. An admirable trait, but when it came to calling her out on the very things that would make him run in the opposite direction, she couldn't help but take it to heart.

He leaned forward and she studied his eyes and inhaled sharply when their lips almost touched. "But those would be the people who don't know you." Nice save. "From what I've seen, this place fits you perfectly."

With his lips so close, she went in for the kiss. She didn't quite know how to articulate what she was feeling. Even though they had now kissed many, many times, it still felt like the first time. Desire burned in her stomach, but she quickly checked herself. This wasn't the reason why they were here. She wanted to show him a different side-her real side.

As she pulled away, his gaze locked on hers. "Thank you for giving me a private showing."

"Thank you for coming with me, but the day isn't over." She c.o.c.ked her head. "I have plans for us."

"Is that right?" He looked at his watch. "You have until seven this evening to call the shots." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "Then it's my turn."

Her stomach danced with antic.i.p.ation. "Come with me. I'll show you the kitchen, and then you'll have no choice but to do everything I want."

"If that kiss was any indication of what we're doing next, then yes, I will do anything you want."

She sighed. Despite the thousands of hours spent in the kitchen baking her favorite things, she couldn't recall a single time when she'd been happier. With a wink, she grabbed his hand and led him behind the counter.

Two hours later, Liv and Jake pushed through the front door of her condo, bags in hand. He had been a good boy even though he was forced to spend over an hour in one of her favorite stores, which housed aisle upon aisle of baking accessories. She'd purchased a few new toys for the bakery, and Jake indulged every "oh" and "ah" that escaped her lips. Which made his stock skyrocket as far as she was concerned.

"You can put the bags over there by the sink." She directed with a jerk of her chin as he followed her into the small kitchen.

After setting his bags down, Jake turned and rested against the counter, one foot crossed over the other in front of him. That s.e.xy grin was going to be her undoing. He glanced at his watch. "By my count, you have a few hours left to call the shots."

Liv giggled. "Oh, I plan to."

She pulled out the third kitchen drawer and grabbed a white ap.r.o.n and placed it on the kitchen island in front of him.

"What's this?"

"An ap.r.o.n. Put it on." She reached into the drawer and pulled out her own.

"What do I need an ap.r.o.n for?" He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Are we role-playing? Am I the s.e.xy French baker and you're my apprentice?"

"Nope. This is the real thing." She cleared some s.p.a.ce on the island. "You're going to bake."

"Bake?" His mouth fell open in disbelief. He was even cute when he looked like a carp.

"I want to know what you look like with flour all over your face." Crouching down, she collected a few bowls and her cupcake pans from the bottom cupboard. When she straightened, Jake's expression told her he still hadn't gotten used to the idea. "This is probably the last time I'll be able to just enjoy myself and not have to worry about impressing or making ends meet. Just me, you, and my mixer." She needed this. She needed to remember why baking was her pa.s.sion and enjoy it without any strings. "Please?"

He took off his jacket, laid it over the counter, and walked around to meet her as he tied the ap.r.o.n strings around his waist. He smoothed out the fabric as if looking for rea.s.surance that he'd put it on correctly.

When he finally looked up, Liv smiled. "It's perfect."

"You know I don't do baking."

She felt like a parent trying to goad their child into trying something new. "Can you measure?"

He nodded.

"Can you stir?"

He nodded again.

"Then you're hired."

He didn't look convinced. He took tiny steps, like he was entering a haunted house. Careful. On edge. Just waiting for something to jump out at him. Fastening her own ap.r.o.n, she pulled a few ingredients down from the top cupboard, along with some measuring utensils.

"Don't be shy." She motioned for him to move closer. "Last I heard, flour doesn't bite."

His lips thinned into a nervous line, but he laughed.

"Can you go in the fridge and grab some eggs?"

He nodded and headed for the fridge. He fumbled inside, most likely moving things from one place to the next, then sidled beside her with a carton of eggs.

"I think we'll just make a simple chocolate batter and some white b.u.t.ter cream icing." She looked up at him. "Does that sound okay?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "I'm sure it all tastes the same."

Liv gasped. "Bite your tongue. It does not all taste the same. There are so many variations that we could spend days in this kitchen working out all of the possibilities." She realized that she was waving her finger in the air, but it looked as though he found it amusing. As if he was trying hard not to laugh out loud.

"What?"

"You're getting all excited about something you love." He caressed her shoulder. "It's cute."

She swallowed hard at the warmth of his touch, but her need to set him straight won out over her desire. "Spend a little more time with me, pal, and I'm sure you'll be singing a different tune."

His hand inched higher, making its way toward her neck, but she wasn't going to let her plan get derailed by his attempt at seduction. They had chocolate cupcakes to- She rushed over to the bags, breaking Jake's hold on her shoulder, and squealed. "Maybe we'll make red velvet and cream cheese icing." She picked up the bottle of red dye and held it up to him. "I'm dying to try this new tint we bought."

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a hard breath. Was he a little s.e.xually frustrated? The slight bulge in his pants confirmed her suspicions.

"Are you ready?"

He may have agreed with a nod, but his face told an entirely different story.

Together, they made the batter. Every once in a while, he would hand her a utensil or measuring cup. As they worked in tandem, she kept the area spotless, not a hint of red dye anywhere, not a grain of ingredient to be found.

Soon enough, they were breaking the cardinal baking rule and frosting warm cupcakes-they didn't have all day to wait around for them to cool. But that didn't make them any less yummy.

"Mmm..." The groan that vibrated through his closed lips was a satisfying sound.

"See? A cupcake can fix anything." She watched him devour more. "Even help you get over the terror of making them."

"This brings back memories." He moaned again. "I used to have the biggest sweet tooth. I was a chubby kid."

"I find that hard to believe." She laughed. "And I knew you could bake."

"I don't think it was really me, but if anyone ever asks, we'll go with that." Chuckling, he took another bite of the cupcake. "Are cupcakes the only thing you're going to make?"

Liv smiled. "Cupcakes are my one true love, but I've always wanted to learn how to make French macaroons."

"Macaroons?" His eyebrows shot up in question. "Those blob things?"

She laughed. "Yes, those blob things, but I'm not talking about those, I'm talking about French macaroons." Although she found it hard to believe that cupcakes would ever go out of style, the French macaroon was quickly becoming an overnight sensation. "In Paris, they have special macaroons that are filled with cream and tinted with bright colors. They are a beautiful work of art. One day, I plan on going there to learn how to make them properly, but for now, I could probably wing it."

"Paris," Jake mumbled between bites. "It's nice there."

"You've been to Paris?"

He nodded. "Just once for work." After he took another bite, he asked, "Aren't you going to try?"

"Of course." But she'd rather smear the icing all over his lips-no, his chest-then lick it all off.

She reached for a cupcake, but he pulled her hand to the side. Lifting her eyes to meet his, her breath caught. The oven wasn't the only thing now heating the room. His stare was hungry. And not for cupcakes. He held his treat up to her mouth. She took a bite, never breaking eye contact.

Cupcakes had always been a source of excitement and pleasure for Liv, but instead of the giddy b.u.t.terflies, the excitement was now s.e.xual, the pleasure now sending a deep tingle throughout her body. As she chewed, his eyes lowered to watch her mouth. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip while bringing the cupcake back to her mouth for another bite. Instead, she slid her finger along the top, gathering a healthy dollop of icing.

Leaning in, her hands shaking, she brought her finger to his mouth. He slowly sucked off the icing, and his tongue ma.s.saged and circled her finger.

Mimicking her idea, he swiped inside the icing bowl. He ran his finger along her skin, smoothing the icing across her collarbone and up her neck. He returned to the bowl for a second swipe and then dabbed some onto her earlobe. He lowered his mouth and kissed and licked his way up the icing trail, nipped at her chin, then cupped her face, finally capturing her lips.

The sweetness in her mouth was overwhelming. He rested his hands on the small of her back as he eased their lip lock. Jake had managed to weasel his way into her life and she liked it. He had seen her strong and vulnerable, at her best, and more importantly, at her worst that night at the bar when Burt gave her a hard time. And yet he was still here, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

They stood for a minute or so, his breathing hard, his face red from the contact with her skin. At this moment, Liv couldn't read him. His thoughts were a mystery.

But she would have no regrets.

This entire experience confirmed for Jake once again that Liv liked to be in control. The careful way she measured her ingredients, the way she cleaned up utensils and bowls along the way, the calculated fas.h.i.+on in which she placed things on the table in front of her. She hated mess. And he noticed the way her hands trembled when she scooped the icing onto her finger. He knew it was hard for her to sway from her rigid habits, but appreciated her efforts. Still, there was a lot more he could do to bring her out of her sh.e.l.l.

He picked up a piping bag. "I think it's time for a lesson in decorating."

The look on her face was priceless. He knew she expected to take their intimate moment to the next level, but he wasn't in a rush. He had a plan-a plan to bring her out of her sh.e.l.l and relinquish some of her control.

"I thought you had plans for us this evening." She grabbed the piping bag and leaned in for another kiss, but Jake ducked out of the way and thrust the bag back into her hands.

"I think it's important to have good technique, and practice is the only way to get it right."

"Practice, huh?" She playfully tossed the bag from one hand to the other. "But we've already decorated all of the cupcakes."

"Who said anything about practicing on a cupcake?" He reached toward her, releasing the bow at the back of her ap.r.o.n, pulling it, then her s.h.i.+rt, over her head.

Reaching behind, he released the clasp of her bra. He slowly slid the straps down her arms, letting the soft satin fall to the floor. He guided her in front of the island, lifted her quivering body, and settled her on the marble. She seemed to get the hint. A s.e.xy smirk returned to her face.

"Now I'm going to take this piping bag and practice. It's your job to judge my creativity." He carefully approached her, piping bag in hand. "So where do you think would be the best place to start?"

"Maybe you should get a towel first. Just in case we make a mess." She wore a look of worry.

"Oh, I plan on making a big mess." He stepped closer.

"Wet towels would be better," she croaked, her hands gripping the edge of the marble.

Her eyes revealed her antic.i.p.ation, but she couldn't let go.

He positioned the piping bag over her naked torso and whispered, "Just relax. There's no one here but you and me."