Page 28 of Delicious (Delicious #1)

Chapter Three

Cookie

I try to force down the surprising disappointment. There’s no way I could have missed the way Quinn looked at that surf girl, Georgie. Judging from the look on his face as he held her and breathed her in, I’m pretty sure he’s straight.

I’d been hoping to find myself a hot English guy to pass the time with until Ty and I head to London but damn, Lady Luck has not been on my side. That bitch was clearly messing with me when she dangled that fine-ass man in front of me.

It’s not like there aren’t plenty of gay guys around this tiny little bay, but they all seem to be spoken for. Even Ty’s hooking up with his childhood crush while he’s back home, though he insists he’s not.

Guess I’ll just have to handle things myself until we get to London, after all. I’m not sure Grindr is gonna help much around here either. I give Quinn one last regretful glance and sigh. Maybe I won’t get a taste of him, but he’s definitely being filed away in my spank bank.

Leaving Quinn to nurse what’s left of his latte and cupcake, I slip behind the counter and smile widely at the first customer. The next couple of hours pass quickly as the shop gets busy with a constant stream of visitors. The summer season is definitely picking up, and I’m sure Colin’s going to have to employ another couple of people before I leave.

I was serious about investing in his business though. Even if I’m not in the bay, I’ll still keep in touch with Colin. I adore my little strawberry pop tart and if nothing else, I am heavily invested in what happens between him and his papi chulo , Garrett. I bet those two would set the bed on fire . It’s always the quiet ones.

Dang, I seriously need to get laid if I’m spending this much time thinking about everyone else’s sexy times. Maybe I should try Grindr.

Finally, the crowd wears thin, with most of the parents fully caffeinated and headed to the beach with their kids. I wipe down the surfaces and check what’s run low in the display cases, I glance over and find Quinn still sat at the window table, deep in thought as he twists an empty sugar packet between his restless fingers.

“Hey,” I call over to him. He lifts his head and his pretty blue eyes lock on me as I smile back. “I’m not kicking you out or anything, but don’t you have something better to do than sit around and stare at the walls?”

He stares at me for a moment, then slides out from the chair and walks over to the counter.

“Are you okay?” I ask as he slips his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Yeah,” he replies on an exhale. “It’s just weird being back home. Don’t really know what to do with myself.”

“I guess it’s understandable, finishing college or uni or whatever. It’s a big change. Do you have a job lined up? Do you know what you want to do?”

He frowns and kinda hunches his shoulders. “It’s…complicated.”

“Say no more, although it’s okay, you know.”

“What is?” He fixes those baby blues on me and I lean toward him, propping my elbows on the counter and my chin in my hands as I watch him.

“Not having the answers.”

“Oh, I have the answers all right.” He sighs. “I’m just not sure my family is going to like them.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Maybe it’s because sometimes it’s easier to unload on a stranger than people who know you and have certain expectations of who they think you are.”

He chews his lip and watches me thoughtfully, and I try really hard not to stare at his mouth. Needing the distraction, I turn toward the back and call out.

“Hey, Colin!” My favourite ginger pokes his head around the doorway. “Mind if I take a break while it’s slow?”

“Sure. Might as well before we get hit with the lunch crowd.”

“Thanks.” I untie my apron and hang it on the peg as I round the counter towards Quinn. “Come on.” I grasp his arm and tow him towards the door, enjoying his warm skin and firm muscles beneath my fingers.

“Where are we going?” His lips curve in amusement.

“For a walk.” We step outside, and I reach into my back pocket for my sunglasses, which I slide onto my face.

“What?” I ask.

“I like these.” He grins and taps the corner of my oversized, star-shaped, glitter-encrusted sunglasses.

I shrug. “Life’s too short for boring old Ray-Bans.”

“Well, they’re certainly not boring. You could give Elton John a run for his money in those.” He chuckles. “Please tell me you have a whole collection of them.”

“Hell, yeah, I do.” I huff and wave a hand. “Who doesn’t match their sunglasses to their outfit?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I have a boring black pair I bought from Primark.”

I press my hand to my chest. “You are literally giving me chest pains right now. You’re lucky you met me, you know. We’re going to inject some colour and excitement into your life. But for now, we’re going to take a walk down to the oceanfront, and I’m going to buy you an ice cream because I may have only been here a few weeks, but I adore those—what do you call them, ninety-nines?”

He grins at me. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of those.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day.”

“I’m beginning to think it might be,” he mumbles as he stares at me.

“Anyway, I’m going to buy you an ice cream and we’re going to stare at the water and you can either stand in silence and just be all zen and shit or you can tell me what’s bugging you. No pressure, zero judgement. Plus, as an added bonus, mijo , you get the whole cone of silence thing. I won’t breathe a word to another soul about anything you tell me in confidence, ’kay?”

He studies me for a moment longer, then nods.

“And put your sunglasses on. It’s bright and you don’t want to end up with a headache.” Chuckling, he reaches into his own pocket and slips them on. “Oh my god, they are as bad as I thought. We’ll get you some new ones.”

Quinn

I watch him strut away, and for a moment I forget to move as I watch those mesmerising hips wiggling. I scramble to catch up, not sure why I’m following him like he’s a sparkly five-and-a-half-foot Pied Piper. There’s just something about him, from his sexy accent to his dark, fathomless gaze. Being the object of his focus stirs an unfamiliar sensation in my belly and makes me want to spill my secrets. Maybe he’s right, maybe it would be easier to tell someone unconnected with everything that came before. Someone who didn’t know me before, or as part of the Ainsley family, or… as Sully’s kid. Someone who wouldn’t care if I’d actually gone to uni or not.

“Ground control to Major Tom.”

Jolted from my thoughts, I look over at the fascinating man I’ve fallen into step alongside, and I have to admit, I’m a little dazzled by his smile.

“Pardon?”

“You look like you’re a million miles away.”

I shrug, not quite ready to confess my life story, no matter how much I might be tempted to. “So you’re from Long Beach? How did you end up in a little Cornish bay baking cupcakes?”

“Seriously awesome cupcakes,” he corrects airily, raising his chin.

“I can’t even argue that with you,” I reply. “If my family is going to torture me with a welcome home party that I don’t want, can you please at least make sure your cupcakes are part of the order?”

“What, instead of the giant sheet cake with your face printed on it?” He tilts his head towards me, and I can’t tell if he’s being serious on account of being partially blinded by the sun reflected off his glittery star-shaped sunglasses.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

He laughs delightedly and my belly does that lazy roll. Jesus, am I getting an ulcer? My stomach is never this jittery.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for you,” he says. I really really hope he’s just messing with me. “But in answer to your earlier questions, yes, there will be some of my cupcakes at your party, and yes, I’m mostly from Long Beach. Although I was born in Puerto Rico, I moved to the States when I was five.”

“So how did you end up here? It’s a bit of a downgrade from California for a holiday destination.”

“I don’t know.” Cookie draws in a deep breath of fresh air, his body language relaxed. “I think this place is adorable. Ty grew up around here.”

“And Ty is?”

“My absolute BFF, my brother from another mother. We’re family. His dad passed away recently, and although he hadn’t spoken to Ty in years, there wasn’t anyone else. So Ty came back to deal with the funeral arrangements. I wasn’t doing anything in particular and, with the way things are back home at the moment, we decided we wanted a change of scenery. Once he’s wrapped up his family stuff, we’re heading to London.”

“He grew up here? What did you say his name was again?” I ask curiously.

“Tyler Evans. I think he went to school with your brothers, Beck and—what was the other one?”

“Jesse,” I supply, trying to cast my mind back.

“Yeah, and Ty sure knows your brothers’ friend Ryan.” Cookies wiggles his brows above the rim of his sunglasses.

“I don’t really remember Tyler,” I reply as we wander companionably down the boardwalk along the seafront. “But then again, Beck and Jesse are older than me.”

“God, I love these little stores.” Cookie grins when we stop by one of the little tourist shops at the edge of the sand. “They’re so cute!”

He picks up one of the little foil windmills in a display and oohs in delight. Neon-coloured buckets and spades are stacked alongside them, and an inflatable plastic dingy hangs above the open entrance, flapping slightly in the breeze.

To the side of the entrance are two circular stands, one holding rows of postcards and magnets and the other containing sunglasses. Cookie sets the little windmill down and slowly spins the display carousel, humming thoughtfully before picking out a pair and holding them out to me.

Removing my glasses with an amused smile, I take them and slip them on. Cookie immediately frowns.

“No,” he declares.

He hands me a couple of others one at a time, and I dutifully try each pair and watch as he dismisses them. I’m not really sure why I’m humouring him. There’s nothing wrong with the plain black plastic frames of my other ones.

“Cookie, I’m not sure I need another pair. The ones I have are fine.”

“No, honey.” He cocks a hip and shakes his head. “You’re fine. Your nasty-ass shades are not .”

I chuckle loudly, my cheeks heating at his unexpected praise. “They literally have one job, turn down the wattage of the sun so I don’t sear my retinas. Does it really matter what they look like?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” He retrieves another pair and holds them out to me.

I stare at them dangling from his slim fingers and then lift my gaze to his. “Seriously.”

“Trust me.”

Blowing out a resigned breath, I reach out and take them, slipping them on and looking into the tiny rectangular mirror mounted on top of the display.

“Huh.” I turn my head one way and then the other. Never in a million years would I have picked these up but I actually really like them. The frames are slim plastic, nicely shaped, and not too big, but they’re lime green. “I…”

“Yooou…” Cookie draws out the word teasingly as the corner of his mouth curves.

“I like them,” I confess.

He grins. “You go pay for those, then, and I’m going to get us an ice cream. What do you want?”

He points to a nearby ice cream van parked near the steps that lead down onto the sandy beach.

“Anything is fine,” I watch as he practically skips across the promenade towards the van, which only has a couple of kids waiting in line.

I head into the shop and impulsively pick up a little something for Cookie. Then, navigating my way down the crammed aisles of cheap tourist tat, glittery sea shells, sticks of rock, beach towels, and bucket hats, I finally manage to sidle up to the till and pay.

When I head back outside, it’s to see Cookie wandering back in my direction with a ninety-nine in each hand. I tuck his present into my back pocket—even though there’s no way it will fit—so it ends up sticking out and knocking me in the back. I slide my new sunglasses on and walk across to meet him.

“Thanks.” I take the ice cream from him, our fingers brushing as I grasp the wafer cone.

“You’re welcome,” he says with a soft smile, and I watch, my mouth falling open slightly as his pink pierced tongue snakes out and licks a line around the ice cream, which is beginning to melt and drip down the cone.

My dick gives a twitch and I swallow hard. He gives a pornographic moan of pleasure, and it’s like he’s moving in slow motion as he slowly withdraws the long chocolate flake from the whipped ice cream. I think I actually stop breathing when he slips his pouty lips over the stick of chocolate, sinking down to where his fingers pinch the end, and then he slowly and torturously slides back up, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the ice cream off it.

He closes his eyes and hums happily.

There’s a smear of ice cream on his lower lip and suddenly all I want to do is lean in and lick it up, see if he tastes as sweet as his temperament seems to be.

Holy shit, I’m attracted to him.

There have been plenty of times I’ve found guys objectively hot to look at but never enough to act on. I’d never once thought about running my tongue along the seams of their lips before kissing them deeply, or sliding my hands up the length of their ridiculously long, smooth legs, or thinking about those legs wrapped around me while I?—

Whoa. I suck in a sharp breath at the sudden image in my mind or, more pressingly, my body’s reaction to it. My dick gives another enthusiastic throb, and I hope the sudden bulge in my jeans isn’t noticeable beneath my untucked T-shirt.

Cookie opens his eyes at my sharp inhale and studies me.

“You’re getting messy.”

“What?” I squeak, then clear my throat. “Um, I mean pardon?”

He nods to my forgotten ice cream, which is melting in the sun and now runs down my fingers.

“Oh.” I startle and lean down to lick the stickiness from my fingers, but my brain, intent on torturing me, starts meandering towards other things I may or may not be interested in licking.

Okay, I’m definitely going to need some time to process this.

I’ve always thought of myself as straight. Well, mostly. Looking at guys didn’t count, or so I thought, because I’d never had the urge to take it beyond that. Until now.

“Are you okay?” Cookie tilts his head and laps daintily at his ice cream, once again giving me a glimpse of that tantalising piercing. I wonder how it would feel against my tongue or my?—

Yeah, definitely need time to process, possibly while taking a cold shower.

“I’m fine,” I reply, and my voice comes out a little gravelly. “I, uh… I got you a present.”

“A present?” He blinks as that sinful mouth widens into a big smile. “For me?”

I nod and turn, cocking my hip and showing him what is tucked into my back pocket.

He laughs in delight and plucks out the long plastic pole topped with a pink and purple foil windmill, holding it up to his face like I’ve given him a single red rose and he’s about to give it a sniff. Instead, he puckers those tempting lips and blows gently to set it spinning. He watches and gives another laugh, and even though my poor dick is very confused, it’s also aching.

“You, uh… seemed to like them,” I finish weakly, reaching up and rubbing the back of my neck, which feels hot—most likely from the sun and definitely not embarrassment.

“Are you kidding, papi ?” He grins wildly, his dark eyes sparkling. “This is the best gift ever. I love these, they’re so pretty and fun.”

“Oh, good.” My stomach swoops. It’s like, now that I’ve realised I’m attracted to him, I notice how much I like him calling me papi and how hot his accent is.

Oh my god, I’m pretty sure I’m crushing on him. This is really not a good time to have a sexual awakening. I haven’t even told my family yet that I’m not staying in the bay, and Cookie isn’t staying in the bay either. He said it himself, he and his friend Tyler will be heading to London.

“Come on,” Cookie says, nodding along the promenade towards the railings. “Let’s get out of everyone’s way.”

I follow him over to the edge and lean against the metal rail which borders a small drop down to the sand. Lifting my ice cream to my mouth, I lick and gaze out to sea, captivated by the sun glinting on the rippling waves. From this distance, I can see Beck and Nat with their boards tucked under their arms, walking hand in hand towards the surf.

“So, you wanna watch the hot surfers or you wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Cookie asks.

“Well, considering two of the surfers are my brother and future brother-in-law, I guess that leaves me with only one choice.”

“There are always other choices,” Cookie says. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you seem to have something you need to get off your chest, and I’m incurably nosy, according to Ty.”

I turn my head towards him. “You won’t tell anyone, not even Colin? It’s just, he’s close with my brothers, and I don’t want my family to find out from anyone but me.”

“Seriously, I won’t say a word.” He waves his glittery windmill at me like it’s Glinda’s magic wand. “It’s between you, me, and God. Just call me Padre.”

“I’d rather not.” My mouth twitches and then I sigh, gazing out to sea once more because it’s easier than looking at him directly. “I’ve been lying to my family for nearly two years.”

“You kill somebody?”

I snort. “No.”

“Okay, so everyone tells little white lies. What could really be that bad? You’re not a Republican, are you?”

“No. Also not American, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I chuckle and finally turn towards him.

“True. Okay, what gives?”

“I dropped out of uni after my first year,” I confess.

“Okaay…” He draws the word out, waiting for me to elaborate.

“My dad died.”

“I’m sorry,” Cookie mutters as he watches me through those wild Elton John glasses and weirdly, it sets me at ease. “That’s tough. What happened?”

“Cancer,” I reply. “It was fast and aggressive. One minute we were being told, the next he was gone. He was…” I take a deep breath, forcing down the wave of pain that after three years hasn’t diminished. “He was larger than life. The lynchpin of our whole family. I idolised him. I’d just been accepted to Exeter University to study environmental studies when he got sick, but he was so proud. One of the last things he said to me was that he wanted me to go out and make a difference in the world. Dad was real big on conservation, especially when it came to the bay and the ocean. I’d also toyed with the idea of marine biology. Then he died and Mum still wanted me to go, said I shouldn’t give up my dream. So I went off to uni, still grieving and with his words ringing in my ears.”

“That must have been tough, trying to come to terms with his loss. Your family all had each other here, I presume, and you were away from home for the first time, your world upended.”

I jolt, staring at him in surprise. “Yes, it was, but no one understood that. No one asked me if I was okay. I get that they were all grieving in their own way. I don’t know…” I trail off. “I guess I just felt like they forgot about me. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Cookie shakes his head. “It’s like you said, they were all grieving. Maybe they couldn’t see past their own pain.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I came to that conclusion myself. Eventually. I know my family love me, but we’re all a lot . Big. Loud. You have to shout to make yourself heard sometimes. I just didn’t feel like shouting much.”

“So what happened when you got to uni?”

“It wasn’t a good fit.” I shrug. “I tried. I tried for nearly a year. It wasn’t just that I was dealing with dad’s death and missing my family. I didn’t belong there. Hated everything about it, especially the course. Making friends was a bit of a struggle too. I didn’t want to open up to anyone in case I vomited my unhappiness all over them.”

“I can understand that.”

“As it got to the end of the first year, there was a local careers fair, so I went along. Not so much with any real expectation of finding answers, more that it was a Saturday afternoon and I had nothing better to do. There was a recruitment tent there.”

“Recruitment?” His brows once again rise above the rim of his sunglasses. “Is this where you tell me you’re secretly G.I. Joe? Because then the muscles would totally make sense.”

“No.” I chuckle. “They were recruiting firefighters.”

“Firefighters?” His smile fades, his voice soft. “You’re a firefighter?”

There’s something in his expression that I can’t quite put a name to, but it’s fleeting, gone before I can figure it out.

“Yeah.” I swallow hard, feeling a small weight lift now that I’ve told someone. Now that I don’t have to keep this part of my life secret anymore. “I don’t know what drew me to it. It’s not something I’d ever considered. But I signed up there and then. Dropped out of uni and started their training program, and just fell in love with the job. I finally felt like I’d found where I belonged.”

He pushes his glasses up onto his head, a move that draws back his pastel pink hair and exposes the dark roots.

“A calling?” he says, his dark eyes gentle and filled with understanding.

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” I reply. “After I completed my training, I was lucky enough to get a place at a fire station in Exeter. One of the other guys who worked there had a spare room to rent, which was great because I could no longer stay in the uni student accommodation.”

“Why didn’t you tell your family?” Cookie tilts his head and watches me. “Would they have hated it that much?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I admit. “But I couldn’t do it to Mum. She was reeling from losing her husband, and I couldn’t tell her that not only had I dropped out of uni but that I also was training for a job that put my life on the line every time I went on shift. I figured I’d just give things time to settle and see if this career would work out for me, but the more time that’s passed, the harder it is to just tell the truth.”

“I see.” Cookie chews his lip thoughtfully.

“But my placement at the Exeter fire station was only temporary. My contract ended just shortly before my uni course would have if I’d stayed. So I knew it was time to come home and be honest. I’ve got a spot at the fire station in Perranporth, which isn’t far, about twenty minutes away. I’m due to start in a couple of weeks. Figured once I’ve come clean, Mum wouldn’t mind me staying at home for a little while until I find a place of my own closer to work.”

“Wow,” Cookie breathes.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Now I just have to have the balls to tell everyone. I don’t know if they’re gonna be mad that I lied for so long or that I’m doing a dangerous job–”

“Or maybe they’ll be proud of you,” Cookie interrupts.

“Not sure about that.”

“Quinn.” He reaches for my forearm, and I feel the heat of his touch against my skin settle somewhere deep inside me. “I’m proud of you.”

“What?” I whisper in shock.

“I’m proud of you.” His eyes are filled with warmth. “The world needs heroes like you.”

I huff lightly. “I’m not a hero.”

“Do you or do you not run into burning buildings to rescue people?”

“Well, yes, but it’s also getting cats out of trees and kids’ heads out of railings.” I smile.

“And I bet you’re a hero to those mothers and pet owners,” he replies with a small grin.

“I guess.”

“Do you love what you do?” he asks pointedly.

“Yes,” I answer instinctively.

“Then that’s all that matters.” He squeezes my arm in reassurance and oddly enough, it makes me want to put him in for a cuddle.

Christ, what is wrong with me?

I’m not a cuddler.

“I don’t know your family all that well, but they seem to love you very much. Okay, yeah, they might be pissed you didn’t tell them, but I’m sure they just want you to be happy.”

“I really hope so.” I sigh.

His phone pings and he reaches into his back pocket, pulling it free and thumbing the screen to open it.

“Dang, it’s Colin. I should head back. He seems to be having some sort of crisis, but knowing him, it could just mean the frosting has come out the wrong colour. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a sweetheart, but damn he’s wound tight.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?” I ask, oddly reluctant to leave his company.

He grins at me. “You’re really putting a lot of effort into avoiding your family, aren’t you?”

“For as long as I can.” I nod, and he snorts.

“Come on, then. I’m sure we can find something for a hot firefighter to do in the shop. If you’re going to be hiding out, don’t think we won’t put you to work.”

We head back towards the hill and I find that, actually, I’m okay with that.