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BIG DADDY

A Single Daddy & Babysitter Romance

*Never before published.*

Babysitting sucks…

Until I walk in on the daddy working out. Whoa, baby.

He's tall, muscular, and so frigging hot.

He is wet with sweat – and I’m wet with desire.

The way he growls lifting those weights makes me want him to growl while bending me over.

Truth is, I wasn’t thrilled to be babysitting.

I’m a pastry chef, not a babysitter.

But damn, just the smell of him is making me delirious.

I think I’ll hang around a while.

This is one man I wouldn’t mind putting something in my oven.

Chapter 1

I must have been out of mind.

That’s the only explanation I can think of for having accepted Gemma’s offer. After all, now that I’m here in her brother’s apartment trying to soothe this two-year-old girl who is upset about getting in trouble for using my lipstick on her face and on my recipe book, I realize I’m not cut out for this.

Yes, I don’t have a job because Noah just fired me. Yes, I need a place to stay because he also happens to be my boyfriend and he also kicked me out of his apartment. And, yes, I need some money because I just scraped out my savings to buy a new mixer.

But I can’t do this. I’m a pastry chef, not a babysitter. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of kids.

This is a big mistake, and the moment Gemma’s brother walks in through that door, I’m going to tell him.

“Sorry, kiddo, but I’m not like your Aunt Gemma,” I say to Lily as I wipe the lipstick and the tears off her chubby little cheeks. “I play with flavors, not toys. I knead dough, not clay. I have the patience to temper chocolate, not handle a two-year-old’s tantrums. Your Aunt Gemma is a smart person, I’m sure, and she meant well. But she just chose the wrong person to replace her. Your father is just going to have to hire someone else to take care of you. Someone more patient, someone more experienced. Anyone else but me.”

I stop as I hear the keys jingle and the door open.

That means Ben Shore is here.

I go to meet him, taking a deep breath as I prepare to tell him what I’ve just told his daughter, only to have my words evaporate and my breath stolen as I gaze upon possibly the hottest single dad I’ve ever seen. Walking through the door is a man well over six feet tall with deep blue eyes, thin lips, and perfect teeth. His hair chestnut brown is swept to one side, his shoulders are broad, and his belly is taut.

Gemma said her brother was an architect and that his wife had died during childbirth, but she didn’t say anything about him looking like a GQ model or having enough sex appeal to knock my panties off.

Holy shit.

“Michelle Garner, right?” he asks as his eyes meet mine, his voice as dreamy as his looks. “You’re the new babysitter?”

He’s like this freshly baked, still piping-hot, golden brown cream puff, soft and yet firm to the touch and oozing with sticky deliciousness. How can anyone say no to that?

I wipe the saliva that has escaped the corner of my lips and swallow the lump in my throat before flashing him my most dazzling smile.

“That’s me, all right. Starting today, you can count on me to take care of your little princess.”

Chapter 2

At least, she looks like a princess now, I think as I watch Lily sleeping soundly in her bed in her pink pajamas, stuffed toys on either side of her heart-shaped pillow, and a blanket with her favorite Disney princesses pulled up to her shoulders. Her cheeks are clean now and all traces of my ruby red lipstick is gone, though I can’t say the same for my recipe book. On her head is her plastic tiara.

I carefully take the tiara off and set it down on the bedside table around her Tinker Bell snow globe and run my fingers gently through her soft, reddish curls, which she must have inherited from her mother.

Poor girl. To think she never knew her mother.

Looking at Lily, I feel a slight pang in my heart. My mother meant the world to me up until the day she passed away a few years ago due to kidney failure. To this day, though, she serves as my inspiration. Her influence is apparent in my desserts, and some of her recipes are still among mine. I can’t imagine how my life would be if I didn’t have her.

And yet, this girl doesn’t have a mother. She barely even has a father. Ben works hard to provide for her needs and is stuck to his laptop even when he’s home. Gemma was the person Lily looked up to, the one who cared for her. And now, Gemma’s gone, off to marry someone and start her own family, and I’m left to fill her shoes.

I’m the only one Lily has. How can I leave?

Sure, she has a bit of mischief in her. Sure, she can be bossy like her father, who just gave me a longer list of rules to follow than my most meticulous cooking instructor. And, sure, it’s becoming more and more obvious that Gemma spoiled her quite a bit. But in the end, she’s just a little girl who desperately needs someone to understand and take care of her. When she gives that toothless smile, she just melts my heart and all my worries away, making me think that maybe, just maybe, this job isn’t so bad after all.

Then, of course, there’s Ben, that delectable treat that I just can’t pass up.

I wonder how he’ll taste.

I turn off the lamp and leave the room quietly, leaving the door ajar. I tiptoe down the hall and head to the kitchen, only to stop when I hear sounds coming from Ben’s room.

Curious, I press my ear to the door. My cheeks grow hot as I realize they’re grunts, gasps, and curses.

What the hell?

I suppose this is normal. He’s a virile male in his early thirties without a wife or girlfriend. Of course, he’d need to find a way to get rid of all that pent-up… whatever it is that makes cocks hard and panties damp.

Speaking of damp panties, mine are getting wet as my heart pounds and sends heat throughout the rest of my body. How I wish I could see through the door. I can see him sitting on the edge of his bed – or is it standing against a wall? – his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. His briefs are lowered and his long, thick, swollen cock is between his fingers as he jerks his hand back and forth.

Fuck.

Just the thought of it makes me want to rush in there. I imagine myself kneeling in front of him, sucking him off while his fingers become entangled in my hair. My right hand drops to my waist, slips beneath my waistband and slowly touches that part of me that is as wet and as hot as caramel on a stove, ready to reach its boiling point.

Just then, I hear footsteps approaching the door – he’s already done? – and I pull my hand out of my pants, scrambling to the kitchen. Moments later, he follows, still panting. When I turn around, I find him covered in a sheet of sweat, the front of his gray shirt drenched.

He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Whew. That felt good.”

“I bet it did,” I blurt out without thinking.

As soon as I’ve said it, I look away, blushing. I’ve never been good at holding my tongue, but that was a complete slip.

Oh, Michelle, how can you be so stupid?

Thankfully, Ben doesn’t seem offended. He leans on the end of the counter that I’m not cleaning up as he gulps down his water.

“Do you also work out?” he asks after drinking.

Work out? I guess that’s another way to say it.

But, seriously, is he asking me what I think he’s asking?

“When the need arises, yes,” I answer truthfully. “I mean, we all have to—”

“Take care of our bodies?” he finishes as he puts his bottle back and grabs a chocolate bar.

“Yeah.” I nod.

I guess that is essential in taking care of our physical well-being. After all, it can’t be good to—

“Don’t you think you should do it more regularly, though?”

Thank goodness I’m not carrying anything breakable, or I might have dropped it. As it is, I turn to him and place my hands on my hips.

“You know, Mr. Shore, it really isn’t any of your business, is it?”

Ben lifts his hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Still, I continue, “What I do with my body and my spare time isn’t any of your concern. So whether I do it everyday or twice a month, whether it’s with my bare fingers or the handle of a hair brush, it’s not…”

“Hair brush?” Ben’s eyes narrow. “How on earth do you work out with the handle of a hair brush?”

And just like that, it occurs to me that he was actually talking about working out.

Fuck.

Of course that’s what he was doing. Why on earth did I think he was talking about anything else? Why would he when his daughter was sleeping in the next room?

I feel like slapping myself in the forehead. With a shovel.

“Michelle?”

“Sorry. I think I’ll go to bed now,” I mumble, heading back to my room before I melt from embarrassment.

Seriously, Michelle, what were you thinking?

Chapter 3

I find myself still thinking of the awkward conversation well into the next day as I’m fixing Lily’s room.

Why did I think that way? Why did I jump to such a conclusion?

Because it’s what you wanted to think. Because your thoughts reflect how you feel.

And clearly, I felt desire.

I want Ben.

I know I just broke up with Noah, but the truth is that the romance in our relationship died months ago. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time we had sex. With each day, I became more of his pastry chef than his girlfriend. When he’d had enough of me not following his instructions, he fired me, effectively ending our relationship at the same time. And to think that I helped him start his restaurant.

Asshole.

And why wouldn’t I want Ben when he’s so much hotter? Just looking at his arms makes me wish I was wrapped up in them, preferably on a bed. And his arms are not all I want to be wrapped up in.

I shake my head as I put one of Lily’s books back on her shelf. I mustn’t give in. I mean, am I really ready to be in another relationship? What do I even have to offer him? I have no job, no apartment. What if he kicks me out after I sleep with him because I make him feel uncomfortable? Where would I go then?

Most importantly, Gemma’s my friend, and Ben is her brother. She trusted me to take her place in order to keep an eye on Lily. Not Ben.

It’s Lily’s needs I should be taking care of.

I look at the clock on Lily’s shelf and see it’s almost bath time. It’s 4:53, and Gemma’s notes said she bathed Lily every day at five. And Ben did tell me to carry on with what Gemma was doing.

If he wasn’t such a stickler for rules, or too fussy about details, he would be perfect.

Wait. Am I thinking of him again?

Oh, get a hold of yourself, Michelle. Have a tighter rein on your thoughts and words, will you?

Right. I should be more mature, more responsible.

My resolve renewed, I go over to Lily in the corner and pick her up.

“Time for your bath, Lily.”

Immediately, she starts thrashing in my arms. “Lily don’t want a bath!”

“Why not?” I try to hang on to her.

“Don’t like bath! Too cold.”

“I’ll make sure the water’s just right.”

“Too much water.”

“I’ll make sure I put lots of bubbles in it. Bubbles are fun, aren’t they?”

“Soap gets in my eyes.”

“It won’t if you behave in the bath.”

“I don’t like baths!” she repeats, struggling even more.

Shit. Gemma didn’t say anything about Lily not liking baths. Or is she just acting like this because of me? What should I do?

I consider just carrying her to the bathroom and dumping her in the tub, never mind if she splashes around and gets me and the entire bathroom wet, but I don’t really want to do that. Should I bribe her? Threaten her? Wait for her to calm down? But what if she doesn’t calm down?

Think, Michelle, think.

“What if I join you in the tub, hmm?” I suggest. “Would you like that, Lily?”

To my relief, Lily stops fighting me then she turns her head to look at me. “We take a bath together?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Okay.”

Thank goodness.

I prepare Lily’s things and the bath then strip down to my underwear and step into the tub.

“See,” I tell Lily as I immerse myself in the water. “The bath feels good.”

Lily gives me a puzzled look. “Why you wearing clothes?”

I look at my bra. “These aren’t clothes. They’re…”

“If you wear clothes, I wear mine, too.”

I sigh. Boy, this little girl can sure be difficult when she wants to be.

Now what? Should I just go naked? But what if Ben sees me?

I pick up my watch to look at the time. Well, it still is early. Yesterday, he came home around seven. And something tells me I’ll be in more trouble if Ben finds out I didn’t give Lily a bath.

“Fine.” I take off my bra and panties and quickly go back inside the tub. “Now, come in quickly.”

Lily approaches the tub, and I pick her up and put her in with me.

“See, everything’s fine.”

Lily seems fine now, too. In fact, she seems happy as she splashes around.

I hold up a finger. “No splashing, please.”

“Okay.”

I start washing her hair and then rinse it, being careful not to get any shampoo in her eyes. Afterward, I add some bubbles to the tub, and we start playing. Lily giggles as she tries to scoop the bubbles in her small hands. She blows on them, sending them drifting through the air like dandelion seeds.

I, too, laugh as I try to draw something on the tiles with bubbles. “Told you bubbles were fun.”

We must have been having too much fun, though, because we lost track of time. We didn’t even notice Ben coming home.

By the time I knew he was home, though, it was too late. Ben stood in the doorway, staring.

Shit. How long has he been standing there?

Then something more important occurs to me – I’m not wearing anything at all.

No wonder he’s staring.

Instinctively, I put one arm over my breasts and use the other to splash water on him.

“Out! Get out!”

He does, but I have a feeling the damage has already been done as I grip the edge of the tub, my chest heaving and my heart still pounding.

“You said no splashing,” Lily says, unaware of what’s just happened.

I look at her and sigh.

I really must be going out of my mind.

Chapter 4

“You’ll be fine. You’ll get used to it,” Gemma assures me over the phone that night.

She’s called to ask how I’m doing, and I’ve given her a full report; everything except the misunderstanding I had last night and the debacle in the bathroom. Thankfully, Ben let that slip after apologizing and scolding me at the same time. Frankly, I just want to forget both.

“I don’t know, Gem.” I shake my head before letting myself fall on top of the bed. “This really doesn’t feel like my thing.”

“Well, you don’t have a thing right now, do you?”

“Ouch.” I frown.

“All I’m saying is this isn’t permanent. You’ll get back on your feet, and my brother will find a proper babysitter. In the meantime, while you’re looking for a new job, you can stay at my brother’s place and help him out. It all works out.”

Except it isn’t working.

I roll on top of the bed, propping myself up on my elbows and letting my feet sway in the air. “You know, you didn’t tell me your brother was…”

“A little obsessive-compulsive?” Gemma finishes. “Fussy? A control freak?”

I was going to say hot.

“Sorry about that, but as long as you follow all his instructions and stick to routines, you’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

“Oh, and speaking about my brother, I forgot to mention something else.”

That he’s hot?

“His wedding anniversary is coming up in a few days,” Gemma informs me. “I know she’s gone, but he still misses her. Each time that date rolls in, he just becomes this big mess.”

“And you couldn’t just wait until that was over, could you?”

She ignores me. “Anyway, try not to let him drink too much, will you?”

Chapter 5

Don’t let Ben drink too much, she said.

What? Was I supposed to hide his bottle of whiskey? Empty its contents into the toilet and replace it with water? Take the glass away from him?

I didn’t do any of that, though, which is why Ben is now all red in the face, hunched over the dining table and looking like he’s ready to keel over.

Yup. I can safely say he’s had too much to drink.

Sorry, Gemma.

“What are you staring at?” he asks as he pours himself another glass of whiskey, his voice slurred.

“Nothing,” I say as I go over to the fridge to get a glass of water.

“Is that payback for yesterday?”

I go still. I’d hoped he would never bring up what happened yesterday. Aren’t drunks supposed to have a bad memory? Then again, come to think of it, it’s usually the sober who don’t remember things they’ve said and done while drunk. Drunks remember everything, even the things that happened during their childhood.

“I’m sorry I don’t look as good.”

I blush. Is he saying I looked good yesterday when I was naked in the tub? How much did he see?

I glance at him. What does he mean he doesn’t look as good? True, he’s not as hot as he usually is. But he’s still hot.

I shake my head as I pour myself a glass of water. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Are you sure you’re a baker?” he asks.

“A pastry chef,” I correct, taking a sip from my glass.

“You don’t look like one.”

I frown. Is that an insult?

“You look like someone I’ve seen in a magazine before.”

At once, my mind races. Have I ever been featured in a magazine before? No. I don’t think so. He’s probably confusing me with someone else. I wonder what magazine he’s referring to.

“Nope, not me,” I tell him.

“Some chick in a bikini.”

I almost spit out the water in my mouth. Definitely not me.

“I like your hair,” he adds.

What? My blond hair that can’t decide if it’s straight or curly and never behaves the way I want it to?

“And your lips, and your…”

“All right. That’s enough.” I set my glass down and go over to Ben, taking his still half-filled glass away. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

As much as I’d like to hear more, compliments from a drunk are just babble.

“I have?” He arches an eyebrow at me.

“Yes.”

I bring the bottle and glass to the kitchen, putting the cap back on the bottle and then throwing the contents of the glass into the sink.

“Hey,” Ben complains. “That’s expensive stuff.”

“Well, it’s stuff that will kill you if you drink too much, and you’ve clearly had more than enough. What do you think your daughter will say when she sees you?”

For a moment, he’s silent. Then he laughs.

I’m confused. What’s so funny?

“You sound just like Gemma,” he says.

Oh, I do?

I place my hands on my hips. “Nope. Actually, it’s the voice of your conscience.”

“You look like her, too.”

“And you look like you’re about to pass out.” I approach him, grabbing his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed so Lily doesn’t have to stumble over you in the morning.”

“Your bed or mine?”

I freeze. Seriously?

“Very funny.” I place his arm around my neck and my arm around his waist. “You know, it would be nice if you had a little more of this sense of humor when you’re sober.” I start walking, groaning under his weight. “And maybe if you talked a little more.”

“Are you saying you don’t like me?” Ben asks.

“I’m saying you could be less serious when you’re sober.”

“And when I’m drunk?”

“Well, you could be less drunk. And maybe less heavy.”

He laughs, and just like that, he gets even heavier, causing me to lose my balance so that both of us to stumble in the hall.

“Ouch!” I exclaim as my head hits the floor.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he tries to get up, only to land on top of me, my breasts crushed beneath his chest.

“You better not be doing this on purpose,” I mutter.

“What?”

He manages to lift his head, and as he looks down at me, his blue eyes gazing into my brown ones, I become more aware of our situation.

And our positions.

He’s right on top of me, one of his legs between mine, his knee mere inches from my sex that is starting to get damp. His face is also just an inch away, his mouth so close to mine that I can smell the alcohol on his breath and feel its warmth.

I know he’s the one who’s drunk, but I’m pretty sure at this moment I’m the one who is more dazed. My face is certainly redder.

Shit.

In the next instant, the gap is closed and his mouth is descending on mine. In a flash, warmth turns to heat that swirls through my veins and causes my skin to prickle. My breasts and my sex begin to swell. I taste the bitterness of the alcohol, but I don’t care. I lift my head to kiss him and arch up against him.

Some of the most perfect desserts are combinations of sugar and alcohol. And right now, Ben is one of them.

Suddenly, though, he pulls away, his head dropping beside mine as his body collapses. And before I can even fathom what is going on, I hear a single word escape his lips.

A name.

“Cathy.”

He says no more and moves no more.

“Ben?”

I hear a snore in response.

Great. Just great.

I push him off me just enough so I can crawl out from under him. I sit against a wall and sigh.

Cathy, huh? That must be the name of his wife. And I’m pretty sure that’s who the kiss was for.

Even so, I can’t help but feel excited. My heart is still pounding, my cheeks are still flushed, and my knees are still weak from the brief, unexpected contact. I know it was only our lips that touched, but I can feel my whole body buzzing, burning.

How can I be so worked up over a kiss that wasn’t meant for me, a kiss I never should have allowed Ben to give me?

I beat my head against the wall and shake my head. “Oh, Michelle, you are so stupid.”

Chapter 6

“Did I do anything stupid last night?” Ben asks over coffee the next morning.

I mix my coffee with a teaspoon. “You mean apart from getting yourself dead drunk and forcing me to drag you feet first down the hall to throw you on your bed?”

“Ah. That explains why my head hurts.”

“That could just be a hangover.” I glance at him. “Or maybe it’s from when you hit the table leg in the hallway.”

“Ouch.”

“What? Did you think I was capable of scooping you in my arms and setting you down gently on the bed?”

Ben gives me a puzzled look. “I thought you worked out?”

I sigh, raising my hands. “Let me make it clear. I do not work out. That was a misunderstanding.”

“I see.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“And while I’ve done enough whisking, stirring, and kneading dough to give my arms a bit of muscle, I’ve only ever managed to carry a sack of flour before, and you…” I point to him with the spoon, “…are much heavier.”

“Sorry.” Ben finishes his coffee and sets down his empty mug on the counter and places his hand over mine. “Truly, I am.”

His touch is warmer than my coffee.

“Something just comes over me when I remember…”

“Cathy,” I finish. “I understand. No worries.”

“So, nothing else apart from those?”

I meet his gaze and draw a deep breath. “Nothing.”

“Good.” His hand leaves mine, and my heart continues beating.

Be still, my heart.

Ben walks to the living room and puts on his shoes.

“You’re going somewhere?” I ask curiously, mug in hand.

“Work.”

I glance at the calendar. “But it’s Saturday.”

“I work on some Saturdays. I have someone to meet today.”

“Oh.”

I’m not just disappointed because I wanted to spend the day with him. I’m disappointed because he should be spending more time with his daughter.

“But thank you for reminding me.” He stands up and takes out his wallet. “Gemma usually goes to the supermarket on Saturdays. Now that’s your job.” He hands me a few bills. “Just make sure you get everything Lily needs.”

“And your needs?” I ask.

“I take care of myself.” He grabs his laptop bag from the coffee table. “You can buy some of the stuff you need, too.”

I count the money. It’s about two hundred dollars. What?

I set my mug down and walk over to him. “This is—”

Ben turns around, bag slung over his shoulder. “Oh, you don’t have a car, right?”

I shake my head. “No.”

I sold my car to help Noah start his restaurant.

“But you can drive?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He grabs the keys on the table near the door and throws them at me. “There’s another car in the parking lot. Gemma drove it sometimes. The car seat should be installed there.”

I look at the keys, nodding.

“Go straight to the supermarket and straight back home,” he instructs, one hand on the door knob. “And please don’t buy Lily candies. I threw away the last bag Gemma bought.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t forget the receipt.”

“I won’t.”

“Bye.” He leaves, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, I just stand there, expecting Ben to open the door and give me another order, but he doesn’t. I go back to the kitchen to finish my coffee and put the grocery money on the fridge door.

So, Lily and I are going to have our first outing.

Chapter 7

The supermarket is one of my favorite places in the world. For me, it’s like a big pantry with everything I need to whip up the most amazing desserts.

When I was a kid, my mother and I would go through every aisle just so she could push me on the cart for a little bit longer. I loved this, mostly because it meant more time we could spend outside of our tiny apartment. We browsed supermarkets so much in my childhood that eventually I became intimately familiar with what products each location had to offer, and, in turn, what ingredients I could use in making desserts. What started out as a hobby soon became a passion.

Now, supermarkets, like my desserts, remind me of my mom.

I push Lily on the cart, stopping by every aisle. It’s the only day of the week Lily’s allowed out of the house, I think, and Ben asked us to go straight home afterward. We might as well take our time. Plus, I did miss shopping for just myself and not for the restaurant.

Of course, I’m not just shopping for myself this time. I’m mostly shopping for Lily, but I’m picking up some extras along the way – chocolate chips, cream, gelatin, caster sugar. I know Ben doesn’t like Lily eating candies, but everyone needs something sweet in their life.

As I’m getting some flour, I hear someone shout behind me.

“Lily!”

I turn my head to see a woman with short, brown hair in an oversized beaded shirt and leggings. I’m confused.

Do I know this woman?

“Lily,” she repeats as she comes closer. “It is Lily, isn’t it?”

Right. It’s Lily she knows, not me.

Lily, however, just stares at her then gives me a questioning look.

“Sorry.” I look at the woman, hands on my cart, ready to steer away. “But I don’t think we’ve seen you before.”

“Oh. Right. I’m Donna Pearson.” She offers her hand. “I was a friend of Cathy’s.”

Cathy’s?

“You know who Cathy is? She…”

“Was Lily’s mother,” I say as I shake her hand. “I know. How do you know this is Lily?”

“Oh, I saw her picture on Facebook. On Gemma’s account.”

Now I understand.

“Besides…” Donna bends over to take a closer look at Lily. “She looks just like her mother.”

“She does?”

I know she must have the same red hair, but I haven’t seen a picture of Cathy – come to think of it, there aren’t any in the house – so I don’t really know.

Donna nods. “Same hair, same eyes…”

“Eyes? But hers are blue like…”

“They’re more grayish, but I was talking about the shape of her eyes and her long lashes. Plus, she’s got the same nose, and even the same pretty mouth.” Donna shakes her head. “Poor girl. Now I understand why Ben doesn’t spend so much time with her.”

I glance at Lily. “What do you mean?”

And how did she know Ben doesn’t spend a lot of time with Lily?

“Because she reminds him of her mother, of course.” Donna pats Lily’s head. “But don’t worry, dear. I’m sure he’ll get over it. Of course it’s been over three years, but some people take longer to heal than others, and I find that it’s usually true for men. They keep things in instead of letting them out, so it’s harder for them to forget.”

That I know to be true. Well, not from my experience with Noah. He’s probably forgotten me by now. But my Dad – he’s still mourning for Mom.

“Well, anyway, I’m glad to have finally met you, which I think is really lucky since I’m only in town for a few days.” Donna smiles at Lily then looks at me. “What did you say your name was?”

“Michelle,” I inform her, realizing I haven’t given it.

“Michelle,” Donna repeats, nodding. “Take care of Lily, and the two of you have fun now, okay?” She waves as she goes back to her cart.

“You, too,” I tell her.

“Oh, and Lily can have this.” Donna takes the crocheted butterfly keychain off from the zipper of her purse and hands it to Lily. “Cathy made this for me when we were in college, but you can have it. Something tells me you should.”

“Butterfly!” Lily exclaims as she puts the keychain on her palm, her eyes wide. “Pretty.”

“It is,” Donna agrees, smiling.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “I’m sure Cathy would be happy.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. She was always unpredictable. Even her death was.” Donna swallows. “But she was always amazing. Anyway, I should go. Bye.”

I watch her turn the corner at the end of the aisle, no doubt in a rush to be out of sight so Lily and I wouldn't see her tears. I can tell she and Cathy were really close.

As I look at the butterfly Lily is still playing with, I sigh. Now I’m really curious what kind of woman Cathy was. I wish I at least knew what she looked like.

Chapter 8

As soon as we get home, right after I set the napping Lily down on her bed and fix the groceries, I start looking for a picture of Cathy. Just as I thought, there isn’t any framed picture of her on display. But there must be one of her somewhere in the apartment. I look in the drawers, at the bottom and on top of the closets. I know I’m snooping, and Ben probably won’t like it, but I just can’t suppress my curiosity. Besides, Ben didn’t exactly say I couldn’t look around.

As I look under Ben’s bed, I find a box.

Aha. I think I might have found his box of Cathy’s stuff.

Or so I think. I open it and see the magazines inside, each with an image of a naked woman or a woman in a skimpy bikini on the cover.

His porn stash.

Wait. The magazine he was talking about last night isn’t one of these, is it?

Curious, I go through the stash, stopping after I see a few lewd images.

All right. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

After all, my imagination is running away with me again, producing images not just of Ben looking through these magazines but of me posing in one of them, seducing him in person. In particular, I imagine myself as the woman in one of the centerfolds, sitting naked on a boulder like a mermaid, her hands cupping her breasts and her knees just slightly apart. I imagine Ben sitting just a few feet away, slowly coming closer, kissing me silly before slipping a hand between my thighs…

I shake off the image.

No. I should stop thinking of him, especially now that I know how much he’s still hooked on Cathy.

Quickly, I put the magazines back in the box and the box just as I found it, hoping Ben won’t notice anything. I head to the kitchen, thinking of doing the one thing that can take my mind off anything else, even the image of a naked, hard, hot man.

Baking.

Chapter 9

“So what do you think?” I ask Lily a few hours later as she takes a bite out of one of the strawberry meringue clouds I made.

“Yum,” she says with a smile, popping the rest of the cloud into her mouth before licking her fingers and then her lips. “That’s the best thing I’ve tasted ever.”

“Is it?”

She nods.

I know Lily is just one little girl with not an ounce of the knowledge a food critic has, but I’m really happy she likes what I’ve made.

I push the plate closer to her. “Why don’t you have another?”

“Okay.”

As she’s eating her second cloud, Ben arrives, walking straight into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was…?”

He stops, staring at the meringue cloud in Lily’s hand and then at the heap on the plate, frowning.

In the next moment, he wrenches the cloud in Lily’s hand away, throwing it into the trash can.

I gape in disbelief. “What are—”

“Lily, go to your room, please.”

“Daddy?”

“Now.”

Off she goes like a scared little kitten.

As soon as she’s left, I glare at Ben. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I thought I made it clear that you’re not supposed to give Lily candies.”

He takes the whole plate of meringue clouds and throws them away as I watch in horror.

“What the hell? Those weren’t candies. Those were meringue clouds. I made them myself.”

“They’re sweets. I don’t want Lily having too many sweets.” He sets the empty plate down on the sink. “Why do you think I asked you not to buy her candies? Why do you think I’ve never bought her doughnuts or popsicles?”

“Never?” My heart sinks at the thought. “But every child deserves to have something sweet, even if it’s just once in a while.”

“What?” Ben washes his hands. “Did they teach you that at cooking school?”

“No, but—”

“Haven’t you learned anything during the several days you’ve been here?” He wipes his hands on a rag. “Or do you simply refuse to follow my instructions? How many more haven’t you followed, hmm?”

“I—”

He throws the rag on the counter. “Can’t you follow the simplest orders?”

Ouch. His words, an echo of what Noah used to tell me, hit me like a dagger and I snap.

“You know what?” I stand in front of him with clenched fists. “If you want things done your way, why don’t you try doing them yourself? If you really have Lily’s best interests at heart, why don’t you spend more time with her?”

Ben’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Are you questioning my parenting?”

“I’m just saying you should spend more time with your daughter, to love her a little more instead of spending time pining for the woman you lost, a woman who will never come back.”

His jaw clenches. “How dare you?”

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” I step forward, unfazed. “You would rather have your wife back than your daughter? That you don’t like being around Lily or picking her up that much or tucking her to bed because when you see her, all you see is her mother? That is just so fucked up.”

“That’s enough.”

“Yes, it is.” I take a deep breath. “And you know what? I’m leaving because I can’t stand falling for another selfish man who doesn’t care one whit about anyone else. I can never be enough for a little girl who will always be a ghost in her father’s eyes.”

That said, I grab my suitcase, which I still haven’t unpacked completely, shove the rest of my things inside it, and leave the apartment as fast as I can, keeping my tears at bay the whole time. Only when I’m outside do I let them fall, trickling down my cheeks like the rain that has begun to pour. Even then, I wipe them off, doing my best to stay calm as I try to figure out what to do next.

Where do I go now?

Chapter 10

I end up at the train station, sitting on one of the benches as I wait for my soaked hair, my drenched coat and my flooded, squeaky shoes to dry, wiping the raindrops and the tears off my face with a handkerchief.

Why? Why did things have to end up like this?

A part of me is scolding myself for failing to hold my tongue again, for saying those things I said in anger and for leaving when I should have stayed for Lily’s sake. The thought of her being all alone weighs on my chest more than anything else. But another part is saying I made the right decision, that I was right to bake those meringue clouds to make a little girl happy, that I just spoke the truth that needed to be heard, no matter how painful, and that I needed to stand my ground and leave after all those hurtful things Ben said.

I’m torn. Once again, I’m lost. Once again, I’m brokenhearted.

Well, that’s what you get for falling for the wrong man so soon.

I know. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have let my emotions and my hormones get the better of me.

Wait. Did I tell Ben I’d fallen for him?

I clasp a hand over my mouth. I did, didn’t I?

Oh, fuck. My tongue should really have brakes. Now I don’t know if I can ever face him again.

Not that I’ll ever face him again. I’m pretty sure he’s glad to be rid of me, of a babysitter who couldn’t follow his orders and who told him all the things he didn’t want to hear. Yes, he might have a hard time finding someone new to take care of Lily, but I’m sure he will eventually. He’ll find someone to replace me and then forget all about me.

And I’ll never see him again or feel his touch again or hear his voice again or…

“Michelle?”

The voice quickly makes me turn my head, my breath catching as I see Ben standing there just a few feet away, a dripping umbrella in one hand.

“Ben?”

What is he doing here? Why did he come after me?

He stands in front of me, heaving a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness I found you.”

I look at him, still speechless, unable to believe that he’s in front of me.

“Look at you. You’re all wet. You must be freezing.” He takes off his coat to put it over my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I tell him weakly, finding my voice.

He doesn’t hear me, tightly wrapping his coat around me. “You shouldn’t have wandered in the rain. You shouldn’t have left.”

“I…”

“I shouldn’t have let you leave.” Ben sits beside me.

I shake my head. “No. You were right. I am bad at following orders. That’s why I lost my job. Because I always felt I knew better. Because I never follow the same recipe more than twice. Because I always had to do things my way.”

He says nothing.

“Also, I was tactless. I shouldn’t have told you those things about Lily or told you how to be a father.”

“No. You were honest.” To my surprise, he places his hand over mine. “It didn’t take me long to realize you were only telling the truth, truth that I’ve been closing my eyes to for three years, truth that I’ve been running away from. But you see, that’s the thing with the truth, no matter how much you try to deny it or run away from it, you can’t change it or make it go away.”

I blink. Is he really saying what I think he’s saying?

“And it’s time to stop running,” Ben continues. “It’s time I stop thinking so much about what I’ve lost and think more about what I have left. I can only hope I’m not too late.”

He is sincere. I can feel his desire to be a better father, to be a better man. I can hear it in his voice. I can see it in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re not,” I tell him, looking at him. “I’m sure that you’ll be an amazing father to Lily.”

“Well, I’m not.” He meets my gaze. “Will you help me?”

What?

“Will you come back to the apartment with me?” Ben clarifies. “I’m sorry if I was so… strict. I promise I’ll be more considerate.”

I glance at my suitcase, shrugging. “Well, it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

I don’t even have money to board a train even though I am at the train station.

“And I’m sorry I threw away what you baked,” he adds. “To make amends, why don’t I help you bake next time?”

My eyes grow wide. “You’d help me bake?”

“Or maybe it should be the other way around,” Ben says as he scratches his chin. “After all, I have no clue about baking. Will you come back and teach me?”

I smile, all of my heartaches suddenly having disappeared, as if they’ve been washed away by the rain that is already stopping.

“The lessons won’t be free,” I tell him.

“Of course not. You are a professional, after all.”

“But I’ll be happy to give you a huge discount as long as you give me a ride home and buy me dinner along the way. I’m a bit hungry.”

Now that it’s all over, my appetite’s back, roaring as I realize I haven’t eaten since lunch.

Ben chuckles. “Of course.” He glances at his watch. “Maybe I’ll buy dinner for us all. Lily must be hungry, too.”

“Who’s watching her?” I ask curiously, the question having been at the back of my mind.

“I left her with a neighbor who also happens to be one of Gemma’s friends.” He stands up and turns to me. “Shall we head back? I’m sure Lily’s waiting.”

I nod, getting on my feet. My shoes are still wet and squeaky but I don’t care anymore.

“Let’s go.”

All of a sudden, I can’t wait to go back to the apartment.

Chapter 11

“You have to wait until the temperature reads 90 degrees,” I instruct as I watch Ben stirring the chocolate in the bowl the next evening. “Dark chocolate takes longer to temper than milk or white chocolate.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben says, continuing to stir.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lily echoes, giving me a salute.

After a few seconds, the temperature on the thermometer hits 90 and Ben stops.

“Does that look good?” he asks.

“Yup.” I give him a thumbs up. “Now, all we have to do is spread that thinly on that wax paper and, when it cools, we can peel it off and put it on top of our tarts.”

“Tarts! Tarts!” Lily chants, beating her small fists excitedly on the counter.

I smile as I look at the tarts, the filling that consists of a chocolate mint layer and a berry layer seemingly having cooled enough.

“What do I do next?” Ben asks.

Now that he’s done spreading the chocolate, he cleans up the bottom of the bowl with his finger and licks it.

“I want! I want!” Lily says.

Ben lets her scrape the bowl with a finger, too, and she smiles as she puts it in her mouth.

“Yummy, Daddy!”

“It looks like our customer already approves.” Ben looks at me. “Do you want some, too?”

“Okay.”

I’m about to put my finger into the bowl but he does that instead, gathering what’s left and then presenting me with his finger.

Okay.

I try to get the chocolate from his finger instead but he pulls it away, shaking his other finger at me.

“Say ah.”

“Ah,” Lily repeats.

I chuckle. “Fine.”

I open my mouth and he sticks his finger in, rubbing the chocolate on my tongue.

I close my eyes as I close my mouth, shivering as the gesture reminds me of something else, making me imagine something else rubbing against my tongue.

“Delicious?” he asks.

I open my eyes and nod, blushing.

“Can I get my finger back now?”

Quickly, I part my lips, my cheeks getting hotter as I realize what I’ve just done.

He chuckles, licking his finger in turn, his gaze holding mine. I feel another shiver go up my spine.

Shit. Is he teasing me?

“What next, Michelle?” Lily asks, reminding me of the task at hand.

I straighten my shoulders and clear my throat. “So, next, we put some whipped cream on top of the tarts.”

I get some of the lemon thyme cream on my finger so I can taste it before I put it into the piping bag. Just when I’m about to put my finger into my mouth, Ben grabs it, putting nearly all of it into his mouth.

I stop. He is teasing me and it’s working, the feel of his tongue swirling around my finger making heat swirl in my veins, some of it escaping between my legs and making my panties damp, almost as if it’s his cock that’s stroking me and doing so elsewhere, moving inside a different pair of lips.

Shit.

“It’s quite good,” he says as he lets go of my finger, grinning.

“G-good.” I look away from him and start piping the cream.

“Michelle, why are your cheeks all red?” Lily asks suddenly.

Oh, come on. What’s this? A father and daughter assault on my composure?

Well, I refuse to let them win.

“Are they?” I press one palm against my cheek. “Maybe I’m just tired. Baking isn’t easy, after all.”

“Or maybe she’s just happy,” Ben tells Lily.

My heart skips a beat.

“I’m happy, too,” Lily says.

I smile at her, ignoring my pounding heart. “Well, you’ll be happier when you’ve tasted these tarts.”

I finish them up quietly then present her with one.

“Dig in.”

She carries it with both hands and bites into it. “Yum.”

Ben chuckles. “I think that’s her favorite word now.”

Lily quickly gobbles up the first tart.

“Slow down,” I tell her.

She doesn’t listen, getting chocolate all around her mouth. Then she smiles.

“More?”

“Slow down, kiddo.” Ben pats her on the head. “Remember, if you have too much sugar, you won’t be able to sleep.”

Chapter 12

“She’s sleeping soundly now,” Ben informs me over an hour later as he walks back into the kitchen, having just tucked Lily to bed. “Baking must have tired her out, too.”

“Or it must be the sugar crash,” I say as I scrub a spoon. “She did eat a lot of those tarts.

“Well, they were really good.” He stands beside me. “Need help?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Even so, he doesn’t leave my side.

“I want to thank you for tonight, not just for teaching me how to bake but for making Lily happy.”

“It’s not that hard to make her happy.”

“You know, you really have some serious talent.” Ben places his hands on the edge of the sink. “Not everyone can just come up with recipes off the top of their heads or know how to twist existing recipes and make them more delicious with just the addition of a few right ingredients.”

“Thanks.” I scrub another spoon.

“I don’t understand why they fired you.”

I shrug, reaching for another spoon. “Well, some people like their instructions followed and prefer consistency to surprise.”

“Then maybe you should open up your own… bakery.”

“Dessert bar,” I correct. “That is my dream but until I get all the money I need, and I’m afraid I’m starting at square one, I’ll have to work in someone else’s kitchen and do as I’m told.”

“You can stay in my kitchen and make what you like.” Ben grabs my hand, the soapy sponge slipping from my fingers.

I blink. What?

“I don’t want you to change.” He strokes my cheek with his other hand. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

What is this? More teasing? No. This seems more intense. This seems… serious.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You want me to stay?”

“You said you were falling for me. It’s true, isn’t it?”

Shit. I forgot I said that, and I can’t believe he remembers.

“Well, guess what? You’re not the only one.”

What?

“I told you I wasn’t going to run away from the truth anymore. This is another truth.”

He grabs my face with both hands, kissing me. At first, I don’t respond, still shocked by his words, stunned by his actions. Then the emotions roll in all at once. I let the spoon in my hand fall to the sink with a clatter, grabbing the front of his shirt as I kiss him back.

If he’s brave enough to face the truth, who am I to deny it? Or deny him?

I part my lips for him, letting his tongue in. I taste the mint from the toothpaste and hints of the chocolate that haven’t been washed away. He tastes amazing.

My hands move to the back of his head, to his hair. I kiss him harder, opening my mouth wider, moving my body against him so that my breasts rub against his chest.

Ben gasps then chuckles as he kisses my neck. “You just want to gobble me up, don’t you?”

I giggle. “Why not? You’re perfect.”

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

He lifts me by the hips, placing me on the edge of the dining table. Then he pulls my shirt off before getting rid of his, both shirts falling to the floor.

He kisses me again, his hands running across my back while I splay mine on his chest, delighting in how his muscles feel beneath my palms and fingertips. I start kneading them, moving down to the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling each one.

Perfect. The texture is just perfect.

His fingers find the hook of my bra and he takes it off, pushing me on top of the table and pinning my hands down with his before sucking on a bare breast.

“Ben,” I gasp, my breast tingling in the warmth of his mouth, my whole body buzzing with excitement.

“Now, that is something entirely out of this world,” he says before moving to the other one.

My eyes fall shut, my lips parting to let out another gasp and a moan. It’s a good thing I’m on the table because my knees have turned to jelly now, my skin melting just from the heat of his mouth.

I’m melting, my sex hot and wet and aching, wanting.

Ben unbuttons my pants, his hand slipping beneath my underwear as he kisses me again. His fingers brush against my sensitive nub then find the source of my heat, my very core, dipping into it.

I grab his shoulders and arch against him, pulling away from the kiss as I let out a gasp.

God.

He’s stroking me now, and I feel like I’m a bowl of eggs being whipped to perfection. He’s playing with me, trying to get me where he wants me to be, and there’s nothing I can do.

I can only surrender and try not to lose my sanity, gripping him as the pleasure grows stronger, out of control.

“Ben!”

I know it’s too fast, too soon, but my body is already at its limit, having been denied this excitement for so long, and I just want him so much.

I come undone, shaking, bursting, relenting, letting out all that pent-up passion and desire, my orgasm turning me inside out and leaving me out of breath. When I’m done, I rest my head on Ben’s shoulder, panting.

“It seems like you’re not as hard to temper as chocolate,” Ben says.

I look at him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you saying I’m too easy?”

“No such thing. I…”

I jump off the table and slide down to the floor, pulling his shorts and briefs down before going on my knees, his hard cock right in front of my face.

The sight of it, long and thick and gracefully arched away from his belly, makes me drool. But I’m not here to look.

I’m here to taste.

Squeezing one firm cheek of his ass with one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock, I start licking, swirling my tongue around the swollen head and right beneath it.

“Jesus!” Ben grips my hair, his knees shaking.

“Sorry,” I tell him without meaning it, licking again. “I’ve never been good at controlling my tongue.”

“Fuck!”

His grip becomes tighter. He gasps.

I grin, licking my lips. “You’ve had your treat. Now I’m having mine.”

Digging my nails into both of his ass cheeks, I take him inside my mouth, letting him glide across my tongue, sucking and then swallowing.

It’s the perfect treat, sweet and salty and bitter, well-balanced. The texture is perfect, too, hard and yet smooth, slightly sticky, slightly slippery. Like an éclair, like a cream puff, like sorbet – all my favorites rolled into one. And I just can’t get enough of it.

“Michelle, stop. I…”

He gasps again, shaking.

Even though he didn’t finish, I know what he’s trying to say. I’m not the only one who’s been wanting this, who’s been deprived of this.

“Michelle.”

Reluctantly, I pull away, doing what I’m told for once. As I stand up, gasping for air, I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes and the saliva from the corners of my mouth. I meet his gaze, his blue eyes glazed with lust, dark and smoldering. I know mine are, too.

“That tongue of yours.”

He kisses me again. Hard.

Then he quickly pulls away, lifting me back on the table before pulling my pants and my panties off. Then he pushes me down again, settling between my legs and entering me with one thrust.

I gasp at the sensation of being filled and stretched to the brim, clawing at the surface of the table. It shakes as he starts moving, pounding into me, but I don’t care and neither does he. He just keeps jerking his hips, his eyes half lidded and his nostrils flaring.

I cling to him as I close my eyes and throw my head back, feeling heat spread through my body once more. It’s slower this time but also stronger. Each time he thrusts inside my body, I feel like I’m going to shatter but I hold on, waiting for the right moment.

“Ben!”

When it comes, I wrap my arms and legs around him, squeezing him as he pours himself inside me, his grunts and my moans becoming one. The force of my orgasm whips through my body, knocking the breath from my lungs and making my mind and senses numb.

For a while, I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move. Then I open my eyes to find Ben staring at me. His eyes are still narrowed, glazed, but this time, what I see in them isn’t lust. That part has been satisfied. I feel something else that turns me into warm jelly on the inside and makes my heart feel like a lump of pop rocks, restlessly jumping for joy.

I smile. “Now, that was a perfectly executed recipe.”

“Was it?” His eyebrows furrow. “I thought it was quite chaotic.”

“Sometimes, the best things come out of the chaos and mess of the kitchen.”

He brushes away some wisps of my hair. “Are desserts all you think about?”

“Don’t worry. You’re the best ever.”

He chuckles then his expression becomes serious. “Um, can I have my cock back now?”

“Sorry.”

I put my legs down, releasing him so that he can pull out. He puts back his briefs and his shorts then sits down on the table beside me, looking at me.

“Where have you been all these years?”

“In someone else’s kitchen.” I prop myself up on an elbow. “Wait. You said you fell for me, too. When? Was it after you saw me in the tub?”

“Now, that was a sight.” He grins. “But no. I think it was when I first saw you.”

“Really?”

Ben places his hand over mine. “So, will you stay?”

“Do you want me to?” I ask him.

“Yes.” His fingers entangle with mine. “But I won’t tell you to stay.”

“Good.” I get up and straddle his lap, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Because I’ve never been good at being told what to do.”

Ben grins. “One of your many wonderful attributes, no doubt.”

I frown. “Are you mocking me?”

“No.”

I touch his cheek. “But you know what I’m good at doing?”

He wraps his arms around me. “Telling me what to do. Making desserts. Kissing. Blowjobs. Driving me crazy.”

“Following my heart,” I tell him. “This time, my heart is telling me I’m in the perfect place for a new beginning.”

“A new beginning.” Ben nods. “I like the sound of that. We’ll begin together.”

“Together.”

I kiss him tenderly. I don’t know if this recipe will work, but I know I want to try it out. I might put my own twists along the way, too, and in time, I just know Ben and I will come up with something hot and whimsical and magical.

A masterpiece entirely our own.

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