Page 12 of The Sweetmate (Check-In #2)

Casey

Once in our suite, I kick off my shoes and place the to-go bag and grocery store bag on the counter. I guide Lisa into the living area. “Wait,” I instruct. A general swell of excitement fills me. I take the blanket from the couch, where I had so uncomfortably slept, and place it on the floor.

“M’lady. Have a seat. Get comfortable.” I gesture to the blanket.

She narrows her eyes. “I’m enjoying the picnic style, but no m’lady. Go back to one of the others.”

“So you do like my nicknames. Well, well, well. ” I wonder which one she prefers… “Should I use cupcake? Snow White? Snow? Apples?”

“I regret humoring you.”

“No regrets, cupcake. We don’t do that here. And trust me, in a few minutes, you won’t be sorry about anything tonight.”

Lisa gives me a full smile. Not one of her half smiles, but a dazzling full-toothed grin that renders me speechless.

My legs feel a little like jelly as I hurry back to the kitchen counter.

I pull out a pot and turn on the grill. As the pot heats up, I unwrap our burgers and remove the top buns on all of them.

Quickly, I grab my ingredients from the store: the butter, flour, milk, onion powder, and cheddar cheese to whip up a homemade nacho dip.

While my dip settles, I grind some fresh coffee beans and make a small shot of espresso.

I grab two glasses and drizzle caramel syrup along the inside before pouring the espresso shots and our milkshakes into the new cups.

With another caramel drizzle on top, and straws, they’re ready to serve.

Next, I pour the cheese dip onto our burgers and place the buns back on top.

“Alright,” I call out. “This is my comfort meal. My first experiment at my first job.”

I wrap the burgers halfway back up and plate them with the onion rings and fries. Serving Lisa first, I hand her a plate and one milkshake. Then I retrieve mine to join her on the blanket.

“So your first job was fast food ?” she asks.

“Yup. Fast food. Then I went to work at a steakhouse. After that, I worked at a bakery. And during culinary school, I worked at a café.”

“Lots of cooking experiences.”

“Not always as a cook at those places. I’ve been a dishwasher, busboy, bartender, and waiter. My dream is to own a restaurant eventually.”

I pause. I haven’t confessed that dream to many people. Lisa looks at me through those dark, thick lashes. I’m not sure what’s going through her head, but panic is racing through my mind. “Please don’t repeat that or use it for any of my socials.”

“Why? And you’ve received enough success that I think a restaurant would be an easy enough dream to achieve.” She pauses and then shrugs. “Sorry to assume. I don’t know what all goes into owning a restaurant.”

She’s right that I’ve built up a name for myself.

I do have the means to open a restaurant.

It’s just… still not enough. I take a bite of my burger to avoid speaking anymore on the subject.

I give her a small nod to encourage her to do the same.

“Honest opinion,” I tell her as she bites into the burger.

Much to my delight and dismay, Lisa moans between chews.

There’s never been anyone in my life who enjoyed eating as much as most people enjoy sex.

If this is how she sounds with food, I can’t even begin to imagine what noises she makes while in the throes of passion.

Then again, I’m not sure I’d recover if a drive-thru burger gave her a bigger climax than I could.

That’d give anyone performance anxiety. My two greatest assets would be in competition with each other.

Or they could complement each other…There’s a fun idea.

“This is way better than I was expecting. It’s really good. And the milkshake? I’m obsessed.”

If we weren’t exhausted from being on set all day, I could’ve prepared her a burger here.

It’s a shame we’re not in my personal kitchen.

I would have made her a milkshake from scratch.

All the things I could do for and to this woman…

In time, she’ll come around. I wasn’t lying about Hansel and Gretel.

I, too, use sugary temptations to lure my prey.

Once she’s had a sample of Casey Riis, she’ll want it all.

“I’m glad I exceeded your expectations. I hope to do that in other areas as well,” I tell her as I lick some of the gooey cheese from my finger.

Lisa takes another long sip from her milkshake before she speaks again. “About that.”

I groan. “And we were having such a nice time.”

“Work never ends. I’m always on the clock.

” She makes a dramatic show of winking. The little vixen is mocking me.

So there is a playful side. I love it. “I want to showcase more of your personal side. Here, remove the wrapper from the burger and hold it up. Let’s have you barefoot, on the floor, biting into a cheeseburger. ”

I do as she asks, and when I bite into the messy burger, cheese oozes out of it and dribbles everywhere. She giggles and tells me to take another bite. My mouth is already full, but I dive back in. Laughter erupts from both of us.

“Got it! Look at this.”

She hands me the phone, but I wipe my hands off before accepting it. There I am laughing with cheese mid-air. It’s actually a great shot. Lisa captured a fun yet somehow sexy moment. It’s a photo that grabs attention.

“I’m going to post it now. I’ll say something about cheeseburgers with extra gooey cheese being your comfort food, and we ask your followers what theirs is.”

Lisa asks what I do when I’m not jet-setting the world and baking.

But I’m always baking. Even with the semi-fame, I’m still a loner.

I love people, but relationships are…tricky.

My parents were always distracted or letting me down.

They weren’t affectionate with me or each other.

When I was on the receiving end of their time, it was met with criticism.

My stomach churns as memories try to resurface.

Nope. I’m not going down that path. That part of my past needs to remain where it is—a better off forgotten memory buried deep, deep within.

I won’t allow it to tarnish this night. One bad memory doesn’t get to have the power to multiply and create more unpleasant moments.

“Do you ever get tired of baking?” Lisa pops a fry into her mouth.

The silence stretches while I search for the right words. “The closest thing to love I’ve ever experienced has been baking. It’s always been my source of comfort. It’s not a feeling that ever gets old, and I feel it only when I’m in a kitchen.”

“What about the other room you claim to be skilled in?” She arches a brow.

“I devote as much attention to detail in there as I do in the kitchen. I’m also keen on prep work and seasoning while in there as well.”

Lisa licks her lips and sucks them in. She holds up a single finger. “Prep work, I get. Foreplay, right? What the hell do you mean by seasoning?”

I gasp. “Did you use a curse word?”

She throws a fry at me and laughs. “I’m going to bed.”

“Need me to come season you?”

“Good night, Casey.”

I watch her walk away until she closes the door.

For a moment, I sit there completely still.

She’s untouchable for so many reasons, but I realize something else.

What if we did sleep together? It’d never work.

I don’t have the first clue how to navigate an actual meaningful relationship.

All my relationships are superficial, and she’s not like that.

I do have the chance for a real friend. She’s different from the people I surround myself with.

And for once, baking isn’t my only comfort. Sitting with her is, too.

***

Over the past two weeks, we’ve formed our own little routine.

Eat breakfast together. Go to the set. Lisa takes photos, posts on my socials, and guides me through interviews and basic interactions.

Yesterday I had my best interview ever, thanks to Lisa coaching me from the sidelines.

We have a secret word she says when I’m going too far: apple.

My choice, since it’s poison to her. My socials have more than tripled, and the show hasn’t even aired yet.

Through it all, she’s maintained professional boundaries while still comforting and showing compassion.

Being around her reminds me of roasting marshmallows and making s’mores.

She’s a fire on a cool night. The flames dance and bring light and warmth as they wrap around the marshmallow.

The best uncomplicated dessert that is the perfect balance of savory and sweet.

I’m completely mesmerized by her. Inspiration strikes me so hard I yelp.

Today is our last day in New York City, and I’m going to bake on a morning talk show. I know exactly what I’m going to make.

I call the network to let them know everything I need for the show.

It’s last minute since I told them months ago I’d be preparing an apple pie for the fall season.

However, now I’m concerned with food allergies for my new assistant.

It’s a stretch, since she doesn’t have to come in contact with any of the baking supplies or said pie.

But that sounds better than the truth. I’m trying to impress my assistant and make a foolish romantic gesture before we leave New York City.

“Are you nervous? This is a big network. Mainstream.” Lisa’s voice is full of excitement.

“I’m anxious. But it’s good.”

She waits for me to elaborate, but I honestly don’t have any more to say.

I flash her a smirk that usually has women swooning, but she merely rolls her eyes.

We sit in silence on the rest of the drive to the network.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the tiniest of smiles as she looks over at me. A small victory.

Upon entering the station, we’re greeted with smiles and handshakes. “You’re going to do just fine. I’ve been watching your socials. It’s an honor to have you join us. I can’t wait to try what you bake for us today.”

I look over my shoulder at the source of today’s inspiration. Lisa is holding her planner and standing by my side. A wave of comfort comes over me, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I reach over and squeeze her hand. Her brow furrows but she doesn’t pull away.

Immediately, I go into my usually spiel. The interview is the same as all the times before, and I’m relieved when it’s finally time for me to step into the kitchen.

“Originally, I was going to bake an apple pie. But it turns out that my very own Snow White came with me today, and she’s allergic to apples,” I tease.

My hosts show their disappointment, and one cries, “Oh no. I love apple pie.”

“I can guarantee you’re going to love what we’re baking instead. This is a brand-new recipe from me. I’m eager for us to try it. Let’s see if it turns out as sweet as its inspiration.” I wink at the camera.

My host giggles. “I’m on the edge of my seat. Tell us what we’re baking.”

“S’mores cupcakes.”

“Interesting. Is this muse of yours a special lady in your life?”

“She is.” I wink over at Lisa, who simply shakes her head.

And just like that, I’m in the zone. I’m sharing my love of baking. I’m guiding and teaching others. I love all of it. Explaining the ingredients, how it works, what blends well together, and the delicate balance that goes into it all.

“We’re going to start with our graham cracker crust.” I demonstrate grinding the graham crackers until they’re fine. I combine butter and sugar and then line the bottom of the cupcake pan. “Now let those bake for five minutes. While we wait on our crust, let’s start the chocolate cake mix.”

As I whip up the chocolate cake mix, I make small conversation about the fall season and engage with the audience.

“Who in here already has their pumpkin decorations out? Be honest. Oh, I can’t wait for pumpkins to be in season.

I make a pretty darn good pumpkin latte and pumpkin roll.

” The timer dings just as I’ve finished the cake mix.

“Alright, let’s get this batter poured and popped into the oven. ”

Of course, I’ve already baked some cupcakes, so we don’t have to wait and can skip to decorating. “We have our graham crackers and chocolate. What else do we need for s’mores?”

The audience calls out, “Marshmallows!”