Page 20 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

Crap, crap, crap. Jordan was so late. She flung open the door to the renovated stable and darted inside.

She was supposed to be at Mrs. McGraw’s office in less than an hour to get familiar with the office and to discuss a small party to put Jordan in the public eye so she’d be recognized when holding her Government Talk.

The timing would have been fine, but the temple sisterhood member who was supposed to clean up after morning services had been sick. Jordan had volunteered to help.

She could still make it to the congresswoman’s office if she managed to change her clothes and get back in her car in the next ten minutes.

She dropped her purse on the coffee table in the common room, then unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor. She reached for the zipper of her skirt. The distinct clank and slide of a coffee pot being put back on the maker echoed from the kitchen and she froze.

“By all means.” Josh’s deep and husky voice came from behind her. “Keep going.”

The instinct to shriek and run to her room almost prevailed, but her heart gave her a jolt. Fun, she reminded herself.

Jordan put her hands on her hips and turned around. “What are you doing here?”

Josh leaned against the counter in the galley kitchen, coffee in hand. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin, and he raised the mug in cheerful acknowledgement. “You mean other than ogling you?”

“Oh, I forgot. This is the day you’re working the double.”

“Wendy said you’d be gone by now and I’d have the place to myself. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“I’m running late.”

“I’m taking a break between shifts in the other guest room until they’re ready for me.” He took a deliberate swallow of coffee, his gaze centering on her breasts. She barely held back a shiver as his eyes darkened with desire. “And ogling you.”

Jordan sashayed to him in her skirt and shoes, drinking in the raw need on his face. Josh’s gaze never strayed from hers as she slowly slid one bra strap down her arm, then the other. The distance between them closed, and she reached behind her to unhook her bra. It fell to the floor.

He swallowed. “Kissing you again has been foremost in my thoughts for the past week or so.”

His voice was dark and delicious.

“Just in your thoughts?” She hungered for him, her breasts tingling, her nipples hardening.

She stopped before they touched, when the heat from his body warmed her. With her shoes still on, they were the same, perfect height. She leaned forward, seeking his mouth.

His lips whispered against hers in a gentle caress, the only part of them that touched.

Oh, God. After eight years, he still filled her breath, her mind, her being.

She raised her hands to his shoulders but let them hover.

Her breasts ached to fill his hands, but still she waited, her own form of torture that stole her breath and consumed her.

No other man had ever made her feel like Josh did. And she had tried to find one.

She parted her lips and his tongue slipped inside.

He groaned, and the guttural sound shot a torrent of lust through her blood.

She ached to press herself against him, to mold the solid planes of his body against her own soft flesh.

But still she refrained, using only her mouth and tongue to deepen the kiss.

The denial of pleasure only heightened her desire.

Until she felt vibrations against her hip.

She broke off the kiss and took a deep, steadying breath. Stars swirled behind her eyes and she squeezed them closed for a few seconds. “Unless you’ve learned some tantric tricks since the last time we were together, I should probably answer my phone.”

He reached for her, his eyes on her mouth. “Let it go to voicemail.”

She huffed out a soft laugh as she took a step back.

He cupped her face and brushed light kisses against her lips, her cheek, her forehead before letting her go. Her skin tingled where he had touched her, demanding she return to the pleasure, but duty called.

She fished her phone out of her pocket. “This is Jordan.”

“Jordan, it’s Frank Smith, Mrs. McGraw’s receptionist.”

Josh put his hand on her shoulders, letting his rough fingers trail down her arms. The warmth of his touch tingled down to her toes. “Hi, Frank.”

Josh’s warm breath tickled her ear, but he didn’t lean in to taste her. She closed her eyes, the current of his stroke sending shocks through her system.

“Mrs. McGraw is running about a half hour late. I hope you haven’t yet left your house.”

“Just about to, so you’ve got good timing.”

“We’ll see you when you get here.”

Who was she to look a gift thirty minutes in the mouth?

She slowly turned around and raised her mouth to Josh.

Her hands gripped his shoulders and her breasts pressed full against his chest. The shudder that ran through her body echoed in his and he tightened his grip.

The slow, gentle caress of lips seared her soul.

Too soon she stepped back, the unfulfilled throbbing between her legs nearly killing her. She picked her shirt up off the floor. “There are things we need to talk about, Josh. Before this goes any further.”

***

Not kissing Jordan wasn’t part of Josh’s plan.

Not that he had a plan, but if he did, kissing Jordan would be part of it. Kissing meant being in the moment, the now, instead of the past. Kissing meant no talking. Kissing meant he could forget the person he was.

He stepped back and waited, his gut clenching in anticipation of her words.

“I need to know what’s happening here.” Her voice was casual, but her eyes peered intently at him from over her glasses as she put her shirt on. “You left me with a whole lot of unanswered questions eight years ago.”

Her words increased the pressure in his chest. “I’m not who I was then,” he muttered.

“Who is?” She laughed. “Hey, fun is fun. And fun is good. But for me, the fun needs to be only with me. Until we decide otherwise, I want to be your only baker.”

Those words were a harsh insult coming from her, though she didn’t realize it. He wanted to be more than a prize for her. He strode to her before his mind put a halt on getting too close, on opening himself up, if the fun developed into something more for her.

It was already there for him.

She caught her breath and followed his every movement, her pink tongue wetting her strawberry lips.

Without pause, he threaded his fingers through her hair, loosening her bun and caressing the silken strands, stoking the fire within him.

He took in her heavy-lidded, desire-filled gaze and lowered his mouth to her.

..hand, which had sprung up between them and blocked his progress.

“No one else,” she said. Her soft brown eyes held a challenge. “No other bakers in your kitchen.”

There never could be anyone else for him. He had attempted to forget her, to find someone else, and erase his deep feelings for her, but Jordan had constantly and continuously haunted his thoughts. He gave a brief nod and tried to kiss her again.

Her fingers continued to cover her mouth. “I mean it, Josh.”

His moment of hope disintegrated, leaving an emptiness behind. What did she want, lavish promises of forever? That wasn’t going to happen. It never worked out, no matter what he felt for her. He leashed in his desire and leaned against the bar of the kitchen, folding his arms across his chest.

“Wow.” Jordan’s voice cracked, and an answering pang echoed in his gut. “You’re so caught up in your catering conquests that you can’t even meet me halfway. Whatever you get from your revolving oven door, I hope it’s worth it.”

His body vibrated while his heart was about to storm down the hallway.

“Damn it,” he muttered. He couldn’t lose her a second time. “No one else.”

She stopped. “Just like that?”

He pushed himself away from the bar and covered the distance between them in a few swift strides. She waited, her eyes dark with a desire that flamed his blood. Her body trembled, and his responded in kind.

“Keep your damn hands away from your mouth,” he growled. “It’s mine.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. A purr of pleasure escaped her lips as he nibbled their contours, her soft body melding against his. He shifted to her neck. Need, want, hunger, all surged through him as he inhaled the citrus scent that remained distinctly Jordan.

Eight long years alone. Without her. This was his fantasy resurrected. Her hands caressed and massaged as they made their way down from his shoulders and crept toward his ass. The movement thrust him closer to her heat, rubbing his erection against his jeans. He didn’t mind one bit.

“I have to leave.” Jordan pressed a kiss against his cheek and spoke near his ear, sending a frisson of heat over his skin. “Come see me tonight after you’re done here. For a little dessert.”

Her words sent a cold splash to his system.

He had to go home, spend time with Zach to prove he was a priority.

Sunday dinners were important, even if Josh would get there late.

Saying no to her would mean explaining. How he betrayed his mom and stepdad.

How he ended up caring for his thirteen-year-old half brother.

How his life had been a lie. So he only nodded, unwilling to upset the one bit of happiness he’d been able to glean.

She pressed a kiss against her finger and placed it on his lips before heading back to her room.

Fuck.

Since there was no other outlet at Fountenoy Hall, no hanging bag to beat up or book to pretend to read, he left the stables and channeled the surging energy into the kitchen.

It was too early to start dinner service, so he dug into the contents of the pantry and came out with the flour and sugar.

Duarte had dropped off some early lemons.

Jordan might get the humor if he made cupcakes.

Or she might take it as a message when he didn’t come back to spend the night.

Shit. He put the ingredients back.

Then took them out again. He could make a regular lemon cake instead.

By the time it was done and cooling, his body had returned to a manageable state and he started dinner service.

He sautéed and seasoned and stirred. The fish was done and potatoes were almost finished roasting when Brandi entered the kitchen and he had to leave.

He slowly stirred preserved peaches into a dipping sauce for the salmon.

“It all smells so good. Thanks for sticking around. Are you sure you can’t stay?” Brandi picked at her finger with her nail.

He pointed his chin to the counter. “The instructions are all written out. There’s no more actual cooking, only saucing and plating.

And when every last bit gets eaten and they clamor for more, you can take all the credit.

” He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a confident smile that hid his own wretched nerves.

“I have faith you can do this, young Brandi.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not so sure.”

“I am. You’ll be fine.” He took in her wide, unusual eyes and her teeth nibbling at her lower lip and took pity. “But you can call me if you need anything.”

He went to get his backpack from the servants staircase, but it was glaringly bare. Damn. It was still in the stables.

He left the kitchen and crossed the expanse of grass. When he reached the door of the stables, he took a deep breath before entering.

Jordan sat in one of the recliners, her glasses low on her nose and typing on her laptop. The notepad sat next to her on the arm rest. Her feet were bare, and she ran one up her leg and back down with a lazy casualness. She glanced up and smiled.

Wild hunger built inside him, but he shoved it back down.

“Back so soon?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring the pain searing deep in his chest. How would she react if she knew how his disloyalty should have sent his mom and stepdad to prison? “I can’t stay. I forgot this thing I had to do.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together but her eyes searched his face. “A thing. That you had to do.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He swiped up his backpack and turned toward the door. “So, I’ll see you later.”