Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Oh for God’s sake,” Maisey says loudly. “Every damn window and door is open, Brooke. I can hear you. Now open this damn door.”
I sigh, but neither of us moves for a moment. Brody brushes his nose against mine and then grins.
“To be continued.”
I smile at his promise, and then we both roll away from each other, right our clothes, and I stand to head to the door.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I’m excited to see you, too,” she says with a laugh as I unlatch the door and open it for her. She’s carrying a white pastry box. “Hey, Brody. I’m glad you’re here. I need both of your opinions.”
She doesn’t even bat an eye at the fact that she just interrupted us rolling around on the floor together. It’s as if she doesn’t care in the least, or she walks in on things like this all the time.
Neither of those is true, and I know I’ll get the third degree later. But I could kiss her for being so nonchalant about it.
Because I’m chalant as hell right now.
Maisey marches right past the pizza mess on the floor into the kitchen and lays the box on the table.
“I just came up with two new recipes, and I need to know what you think before I start offering them to customers.”
“I’m your guy,” Brody says with a grin and winks at me over Maisey’s head. He put his T-shirt back on, but I can still see his naked torso in my head, and it makes me more than hot and bothered.
I was already hot.
Now I’m bothered.
In a really, really good way.
“Brooke,” Maisey says, bringing me out of my lust-filled haze.
“Sorry, what?”
She smiles softly and holds a cupcake in her palm. “Here’s the peaches and cream cake with whipped frosting.”
“Fucking delicious,” Brody says, already going back for a second one.
Maisey and I laugh as I peel the paper off of my cupcake and take a bite. I sigh in happiness, and take another bite. Then another.
“Jesus, Maise,” I say, licking my lips. Brody has stilled across from me, watching my mouth as I enjoy the cake. “This is damn good.”
“Yay, that’s a yes. Now, try the white chocolate raspberry with vanilla ganache.”
“Wow,” I say as I chew the first bite. “The raspberry is really good.”
“But is it as good as the peaches?”
I frown, take another bite, and look to Brody for his opinion. He shoves the whole thing in his mouth and reaches for another.
“I need to eat more to decide,” he says, smacking his lips around the cake. I know he doesn’t normally eat like this, thank God. He’s just in cake rapture, and I totally get it.
Maisey can bake the hell out of a cake.
After we each eat one more of each flavor, we decide peaches and cream is our favorite, but that they’re both winners.
“Excellent,” Maisey says as she cleans up the cupcake mess. “Thanks, guys.”
“I can’t imagine that you’ve ever had a flop,” Brody says, wiping his mouth.
“Oh, she has,” I reply with a laugh. “Remember when you tried to make jalapeño cupcakes for Cinco de Mayo?”
“Yeah.” She scrunches up her nose. “Ew. They weren’t a hit.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound fantastic.”
“I also once tried to do a salted caramel that I just couldn’t get right. I think I used the wrong kind of caramel.”
“You should try that one again,” I add as I reach for a sponge and wipe the crumbs off my table. “I bet you could tweak it and it would be awesome.”
“Maybe,” she says with a shrug. “I’m going to add these two to my fall lineup for brides.”
“They’ll be a hit,” I assure her. “Are you ready for Saturday?”
She grins brightly. “Oh yeah. It’s going to be fun.”
Maisey and I love weddings. We have since we were kids, and I can’t wait to see how it all shapes up.
“Okay, guys, I’m out of here. Go back to whatever it was you were doing. Just be safe.”
She smirks and walks right out of my house. Brody and I stay in the kitchen, staring at each other until we hear her car start and she drives away.
And all of the doubts start to sink into my brain, now that it’s functioning again. Maybe having Brody here for a whole week isn’t such a great idea.
“I guess the moment is gone,” he says softly, but reaches over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “You know, Brody, you don’t have to stay for the rest of the week.”
He scowls, and I cringe, then pace away.
“I’m not saying this right. Well, I am, but I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that.”
“You don’t want me to stay?”
“I do.” I bite my lip and turn, and he’s looking all tall and gorgeous in my kitchen. “But I’m letting you know that if you don’t want to stay, I’ll be okay. I’ll figure something out for the shop. You’re not responsible for all of this anyway—”