Life made no sense.

I woke up the day after we got back from Vegas and looked out the window, expecting the sky to be red and the seas to be purple. I expected that maybe the poles had switched positions, or that some big event had occurred to make the world different, because I felt different. How could everything still be normal?

How could the town of Belle Musique wake up and go about its business like normal, when life would never be normal again?

How could it be after the town’s good girl, the goody two shoes, had thoroughly rocked my fucking world? Turned it upside down and invaded my sleep? But she had. Trish had become the song you didn’t want to hear even as it played constantly in your head. Two nights, half a dozen orgasms, maybe more, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every time I closed my eyes, there she was with her long blond hair fanned out all around her or brushing my thighs as she took my cock in her mouth. And the sounds, good lord the fucking sounds she made when she was being pleasured. When she was sucking the cum out of me.

They haunted me.

So, I’d kept my distance. Okay, that was a lie. I’d turned into a damn ghost, spending no time anywhere other than my shop and my house. My good girl assumptions had been wrong. Totally fucking wrong, and I couldn’t be mad about it.

In fact, I got hot as hell whenever I thought about just how not good Trish could be.

“Well damn, judging by that look it must have been one hell of a weekend if you’re still walking around with that look on your face.”

Mags’ ribbing pulled me from my X-rated thoughts and I glared at her, smirking like she knew something she didn’t. “I don’t have a look on my face. It’s called my face.”

“Ha! If that was your face all the time, maybe you wouldn’t piss Trish off so much.”

Just the sound of her name had my skin heating about ten degrees. “What’s wrong with my face? I’m hot as hell, thank you very much.” Sure, I was a grumpy bastard most of the time, but I’d never had any trouble getting women, and much of that was due to my ruggedly handsome features, at least that’s what the ladies told me.

“I’m not touching that one, Mase. But I do want you to tell me what happened in Vegas to put that smile on your face. Or who?” One brow arched in question, arms crossed and a look of pure mischief as she waited for a response.

“There was a nice dinner at a fancy ass place where I ate until my food baby became visible, and then we partied all night at Sin Is In. It was a great time.”

“Hmm.” Mags stroked her chin, studying me a little too closely. The way she always did when she thought she would get a secret out of me. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s okay, you rarely do anyway. Don’t you have an appointment soon?” I knew she did, because I just checked the appointment book.

“I do,” she said and hopped off the swivel chair. “But I could use a coffee and some pastries before the client gets here.” I didn’t miss that mischievous little smirk as I got to my feet and headed towards the door.

“Be back soon!” The sound of Mags’ laughter followed me out of the shop. Yeah, so maybe I was a little eager to set eyes on Trish again, but it was just for research purposes. I had to be sure she was the same woman I couldn’t stop dreaming about. Fantasizing about.

That was all.

Inside Belle Bean was quiet. Deadly quiet which was weird, but as I looked around I heard the low strains of some kind of music coming from the kitchen and followed the noise. That’s where I found Trish, shaking her round ass to the beat of some crappy pop song while she stirred something in an oversized silver bowl. I watched, mesmerized by the way she moved her hips and sang off-key to the terrible song, lost in her tasks. It was sexy as hell.

“If I had known a show was included with the pastries, I would have shown up a lot sooner.”

“Aaah!” Trish whirled around, with the large metal whisk in her hand, aimed right at me. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing back here?” She punctuated each word with a flick of her wrist until finally a big dollop of pink flew through the air in slow motion. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ball of fluff even though I should have moved. It landed on my chest with a gentle splat. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Looking down at the huge glob of cream, I swiped a finger through it and tasted it with a moan. “Damn, Cupcake, that is delicious!” Trish continued to glare at me and I sighed. She was so damn cute when she got all feisty like that. “I wasn’t trying to give you a heart attack, but I can’t help it if the sight of me makes your heart go pitter patter.”

She growled at me and the sound shot straight to my dick, but it was that fiery glare that really got me going. “Why are you here, Mason? For real?”

It was a fair question since I’d been avoiding her and her shop since the wheels touched down in New Orleans. It was a dick move, I knew that, but I’d been too shaken by the way she’d taken control on the plane and made me completely lose my mind. “You do still sell coffee and pastries here, don’t you?”

“I’m closed,” she said with a glare, holding the big ass bowl between us like some kind of barrier. I didn’t know if she was talking about her actual shop, or her. As an added blow, Trish took a step back, but I wasn’t deterred.

“But you have leftovers…”

She nodded, resignation written all over her face as she set the bowl down. I could deal with an angry Trish, and not just because my cock twitched in my pants at the way her skin flushed in anger. “Fine, Mason. Go up front, on the other side of the counter and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“I’ll wait,” I told her because I wasn’t falling for that old trick where she made me wait up front and never showed up. But Trish wasn’t in a playing mood. Not at all, judging by the evil glare she sent my way.

“Then I guess you’ll wait forever,” she said with a shrug. “I hear that Ethel’s Convenience now has dark roast.”

“Anyone ever tell you how hot you are when you get pissed off?” The way her skin flushed at my question turned me on, and I wanted nothing more than to hoist her up on that stainless steel slab and sink into her again. That wasn’t gonna happen. Not now, at least.

“Anyone ever tell you how full of crap you are, Mason?”

“No one but you, Cupcake.” With those last words, I exited the kitchen and waited on the other side of the order with a smile. For some reason Trish was even pricklier than usual, which only made me even more interested, but I could guess that my silence had pissed her off. Why though, I wonder.

Trish didn’t keep me waiting for long, thankfully, coming out a couple minutes later with a large bag filled to bursting with sweet smelling pastries. Beside it, she set down two large coffee cups and gave me my total, all without meeting my gaze once.

“How do you know this is what I want?”

Her lips twitched, but she won the battle against her smile. “That’s what’s left. Take it or leave it. Besides, Magenta will like them.”

“Aww, Cupcake, are you feeling neglected?” I reached out for her, that stray blond lock that curled around her neck but she took a step back. I frowned. “What did I do to piss you off this time, Cupcake?”

“Who said I was pissed off?” Her words were right, but her expression was off, guarded and icy.

“Everything about your demeanor. Are you mad that I didn’t call, because I was going to but-,”

She held up a hand to cut me off. “I don’t need your explanations, Mason. It was exactly what it was meant to be, and I’m not expecting anything more from you, don’t worry.”

How could the sweetest girl in town make me feel like the biggest piece of crap alive? “I wasn’t worried, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to call or not.”

“I didn’t,” she snorted and held out her hand for payment.

“So why are you acting so weird?”

She shrugged, and for just a second my gaze was drawn to the way the purple t-shirt clung to her tits, barely visible behind the counter. “I’m a weird girl. Ask anyone.”

I laid a twenty on the table and took my moment when she turned to make change. She looked up at me with a gasp, those big blue eyes filled with emotions I couldn’t name. Confusion and hurt were two of them, maybe with a hint of lust, but the others were unknown to me. “You are a lot of things, Cupcake. Hot. Sexy. Ornery. One hell of a baker. Kinky...” I cupped her jaw, marveling at how delicate she felt as my thumbs brushed her bottom lip. “Weird is the last thing you are.” Before she could refute my words, I slammed my mouth down onto hers, tasting her succulent lips which had me hard instantly. She tasted like about fifteen different types of sugar and cream, but at the bottom of all that was Trish. Pure Trish.

It took a minute, but she opened up to me, letting her tongue play with mine. Tasting and teasing my tongue, my lips. I couldn’t get enough of her, letting my hands roam down to her ass and giving it a tight squeeze before stepping back.

“See you around, Cupcake.”

Sooner rather than later, I hoped.