CHAPTER 5

DIRTY WISHES & POWDERED SUGAR DREAMS

Charlie

I had left my “group date” feeling more awkward and confused than ever. David was nice. He was the kind of guy I normally went for, but there was no real spark between us.

Sure, it could have been because we were surrounded by a bunch of other people which put us both on the spot and made things more awkward, but he didn’t seem very affected by that. He only seemed affected by Brandon.

We were both far too affected by Brandon.

I wasn’t sure why he didn’t like David, but he made it clear that he didn’t. I had thought that they were all friends, but maybe I was wrong.

David didn’t seem that into Brandon either.

Livy had texted me about an hour after I had made it home to see how I felt about David, and I didn’t really know what to tell her. Lukewarm seemed a little harsh. So, I told her that I liked him. He was nice. It wasn’t a lie. He had been nothing but nice to me.

She told me that she was so excited for next Saturday, and I returned her enthusiasm. That definitely wasn’t a lie.

I had never played laser tag before.

My inner kid was far too happy to try it for the first time, and that small part of me that was a glutton for punishment, was far too excited to see Brandon.

There was something about him that was just so fun.

Being around him made me feel more fun somehow.

But he scared the living crap out of me.

I didn’t know if it was a good scare or bad, but I knew that I couldn’t quit thinking about him even though I had gone on a date with another man just last night and had a second date (if you could call it that) planned in just a couple days. I wasn’t that kind of girl.

Heck, I was more of the zero-man kind of girl lately.

Jumping from zero to one and a fantasy was serious business.

I thought about him as I ran to the post office, I daydreamed about his tattoos as I picked up supplies for the bakery, and I fantasized about what it would be like to kiss him as I finally made it to the bakery at eight o’clock that night.

I hadn’t been here all day, and I was praying that no one saw me here now. I was wearing a pair of cutoff blue jean shorts and a tank top that I had slept in the night before, and I was in stealth mode as I slid in the back door of the bakery.

There were three new recipes that I wanted to try tonight in preparation for the grand opening, and I worked best at night. I had been that way for as long as I could remember.

I threw the ingredients down on the counter and pushed my hair out of my face. My new stoves and ovens had been delivered yesterday afternoon, and I ran my fingers over the shiny silver metal before I turned them on for the first time.

If someone would have told me five years ago that I would be here, I would have kicked my old yellowish-white oven that was more temperamental than it was functioning and laughed. I needed to get Brandon off my brain and get my butt to work.

I pulled my curls up into a pile on top of my head and smiled as I opened the flour.

Baking was my true love. It had gotten me through a few breakups, it always helped me focus, and it was my go-to when I needed to clear my head.

It was exactly what I needed at that moment.

I got lost in the science of baking and the fun of decorating, and I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed when there was a knock on the back door.

I looked down at my clothes that were covered in flour, and I attempted to dust it off before I made my way to the door. I made a mental note that I probably needed a peephole if I was going to be here late at night by myself, but it didn’t stop me from opening the door to see who was outside.

“Hey.” I barely opened the door far enough to see out, but I could clearly Brandon leaning outside it.

“Hi.” He smirked and every bit of work I had just done to clear my head was absolutely useless. “Why are you here so late?”

I looked out at the pitch-black parking lot then back at Brandon. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.” He pushed off the wall and made his way toward my door. There was no way in heck that I wanted to let him in here. I looked like a train wreck, and he, he looked like some sort of god of bad boys or something.

“Oh.” I looked back at the mess I still had to clean up. “I was just doing some baking. I’ll be out of here soon.”

He nodded his head and laid his hand on the door. “Can I come in and see what you’ve been baking?”

I didn’t open the door an inch. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

I sounded rude. I knew I did, but he made me nervous and didn’t have time to think about what I said before I said it.

“Nope.” His smile got bigger. “But something in there smells delicious as hell. Are you really not going to let me in?”

“No.” I kept my body pressed against the back of the door. There was no way he was coming in here.

“Why the hell not?” He looked offended and like he had never been told no in his entire life.

“It’s midnight, I’m just finishing up, and I look crazy.” I tugged on the frayed edge of my shorts.

“You are being ridiculous. If you don’t let me in, I’m going to have to sit out here on the ground until you’re finished. There is no way I’m letting you walk out to your car alone this late at night. Your bakery is next to a tattoo shop for crying out loud. Don’t you know the kind of riff-raff that have tattoos?”

I laughed even though I tried my hardest not to and let my gaze run over the ink that decorated his skin.

“Fine.” I took a step back and opened the door. The cocky grin on his face fell instantly as he took me in. I tugged on the short hem of my tank top and tried to force it to meet the top of my shorts. I felt completely exposed in front of him even though I had run errands in this outfit all day without second thought. There was something about the way his eyes crawled over every inch of my skin as he looked me over from head to toe. His eyes seemed to glaze over, and his mouth tightened in a thin line.

No one had looked at me like that when I was running errands. No one had ever looked at me like that ever before.

Brandon let the door close behind him, and I tried to clear the fog in my head that seemed to stick around any time he was near.

Brandon cleared his throat. “So what are we baking?” He pushed the sleeves of his Henley up his forearms which only seemed to make him about ten thousand times more attractive.

“You bake?” I asked as I wiped my lip to check for drool.

“I wouldn’t call myself a baker, exactly.” He chuckled, and I swear the sound reverberated in my stomach. “But I can make cookies from a package without screwing them up.”

“That is not baking.” I put my hands on my hips and his eyes followed the motion.

“Well, then I guess you have a thing or two to teach me.” He leaned his elbows against the counter, and I pinched my leg to stop myself from telling him that I there are far more things that he could teach me than I could even begin to teach him. Far more enjoyable things.

“I’ve already made the cupcakes, but you can help me decorate them.” I pulled out an apron and held it to him. It probably wouldn’t cover a quarter of his chest, not to mention it was frilly as hell, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter as he held it up to his body.

“I’m not wearing this.” He shook his head.

“You have to. It’s the first rule of working in a bakery. You have to cover your clothes. Especially when you’re dressed all preppy like that.” Preppy would never be a word that I would use to describe him, but for some reason, I knew it was the exact word that would piss him off the most.

I was right.

“What did you just call me?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“I didn’t call you anything.” I laughed nervously.

He slowly lifted the apron and hung it around his neck before he tied it in a neat little bow behind his back. He didn’t take his eyes off of me the entire time, and I took a nervous step backward.

“I must be crazy, but I think I heard you call me preppy.” He took a step toward me and I mirrored his step with one of my own in the opposite direction.

“You’re putting words in my mouth. I said that you dress preppy not that you are preppy.”

He narrowed his eyes farther and I grinned.

“I do not dress preppy.”

“Says the guy wearing a brand name Henley and some sort of hipster jeans.” I waved my hand in the direction of his outfit.

“You are just making this worse on yourself.” He continued to walk toward me, and I backed away until my back pressed against the counter.

“What are you going to do about it?” My voice sounded breathless and I could think of about a million things I wished he would do. But watching him stick his hand into my bag of flour before pulling it out with a pile of flour gently pouring between his fingers was not one of them.

“Don’t you dare.” I pointed a finger at him as I attempted to move even further away.

“Say I’m not preppy.” He took another step toward me and a trail of flour followed him.

“I never said that you were to begin with.” I held my hands out in front of me as I laughed.

“Semantics.”

“Take it back.” He used his opposite hand to pinch a small amount of flour out of his hand.

“You are not going to…” Before I could get the rest of my sentence out, he flicked his fingers out and puffs of white flour covered my face.

“Oh my God,” I screamed and scurried around the island to get farther away from him.

“There aren’t many places for you to run to, Freckles. Now take it back.” His grin was taking over his face, and I swear he had never looked so handsome. There wasn’t a moment when I was around Brandon where I didn’t think he was hot as hell, but it had always been in the bad boy, pure dirty sex kind of way. The Brandon standing in front of me with a handful of my cake flour looked like someone else entirely. He was somehow more attractive than ever before.

It made me even more nervous.

Brandon was dangerous. He was the kind of guy who ruined girls like me. I had to keep my wits about me when I was near him. One little slip-up and I wouldn’t recover.

“Okay. Okay.” I held my hands up in surrender as I took a step back toward the counter. I pressed my hands against the lip of the counter and prayed he couldn’t see what was behind me. “I take it back.”

He almost looked disappointed that I gave in so easily. His hand lowered an inch, followed by his grin.

I knew it was then that I had to strike. “You don’t look preppy,” I said almost breathlessly as I wrapped my fingers around the open bag of powdered sugar that was hidden behind me. “You look dirty.”

“Dirty?” That grin went right back into place. “Well, I’ll take that as a—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I flung the bag in his direction and puffs of powdered sugar filled the room. I managed to cover him from head to toe while also covering myself, but I didn’t care. The look on his face was worth all the hours it would take for me to clean it.

He opened his eyes as he fanned his hand in front of his face to calm the delicious particles of sugar that flew around the room before he pointed his finger at me.

“You are mine.”

I knew what he meant, but it didn’t mean his words still didn’t send a thrill through me.

He didn’t give me a chance to even think before he barreled after me. One second, I was laughing my butt off, the next I was running away from him like my life depended on it.

My attempt at escaping him was pathetic at most. I only took a few steps before his arms wrapped around my waist. My feet slid through the powdered sugar causing white puffs to fill the air around us as he lifted me off the ground.

He twirled me in the air, and I laughed uncontrollably. My back was pressed against his chest and my head was thrown back on his shoulder, and I didn’t let myself think too much about it as I laughed more than I had in as long as I could remember.

Brandon set me back on my feet and leaned against the counter. My body was still flush against his, and when I turned to look up at him, I couldn’t contain my laughter at his solid white face. Brandon grinned at me before shoving his face into the crook of my neck and rubbing the powder sugar onto my skin.

If I wasn’t laughing hysterically, I probably would have died at the feel of his skin pressed against mine. My body didn’t care that we were laughing though. All it knew was that the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on currently had his face pressed into the curve of my neck and his hands were wrapped around my stomach that was doing somersaults. My thighs tightened involuntarily, and I let out a little squeak that, thank the Lord, was hidden behind his laughter.

Brandon pulled his head back to look at me. He was so much taller than me that I had to look up to look into his eyes. Eyes that looked like they were as turned on as I felt. Eyes that searched my face before he lifted his hand and pushed some stray curls out of my face.

His gaze paused on my lips for only a few moments, but it was long enough for the dust of powder sugar to settle around us and for me to try to get my head back on straight.

There was a split second where his face moved closer to mine. A split second where I was actually crazy enough to think that he might try to kiss me. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what was happening, and so I did the only thing I could possibly think of. As his mouth moved closer to mine, I took a deep breath before I picked up the cupcake I had just finished making moments before he arrived and I shoved it, icing side first, right in his face.