Page 13 of The Sweetmate (Check-In #2)

“The best part, in my opinion. There’s something special about roasting a marshmallow over a fire. So we’re going to make a marshmallow frosting and then toast it with a blowtorch. Lots of fun!”

“Sounds exciting!” my host cheers.

Once the cupcake is complete, I offer alternative suggestions. “If you don’t have a blowtorch, regular marshmallows or mini marshmallows on top would be great. Add some crushed graham crackers and a chocolate drizzled over it. Let your creativity run wild.”

Each host tries a cupcake, singing my praises. But there’s only one person whose opinion I’m itching for. When they yell clear and tell me I’m finished, I snatch a cupcake and rush over to Lisa.

“You remind me of a marshmallow.”

She accepts my cupcake with a raised brow. “What?”

“S’mores. You remind me of s’mores.” As she bites into the cupcake I try to explain the symbolism behind my cupcake.

“Roasting marshmallows and the flames and the comfort that comes with…” I stop speaking and growl.

I’m screwing this up. I take her shoulders in my palms and force her body to mine.

I kiss her. I kiss her with everything I have.

I taste melted marshmallows and chocolate and a flavor that’s uniquely her.

My body is desperate for more of her. I want to be closer, I want more, and I don’t want to hold anything back.

This is the best kiss of my life. And I know why, because it’s with her.

“Wow,” she gasps. “That was completely unprofessional.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “It was.”

My palm cups her cheek as I take in her beauty. Her expression is wild. The look in her eyes is one I’d recognize anywhere—hunger. I swallow past the nerves. But she smiles at me, and her eyes are actually twinkling.

I blurt out the lamest line. “And I want s’mores.”

“I did like it a choco-lot…” She squeezes her eyes shut, regret etched into her face. “I can’t believe I did that and said that.”

My dick shouldn’t be getting this hard over a pun. But I can’t believe she allowed me to kiss her and responded with a pun.

“This is our last night in Chicago. I was wondering if you could take the night off. No work.”

Lisa releases a throaty laugh. “I…”

“You’re the first woman who’s made me feel this way.”

“Humbled? Rejected? Mortal? Ya know, since I don’t bow at your feet or worship the ground you walk on.”

She’s not completely wrong. “You’re determined to downplay our attraction.” I shake my head. “I’d love to bow at your feet and worship you in ways you can’t even imagine. If only you’d allow it.”

Before she can answer, a voice joins our conversation. It’s one of the show’s hosts. “Is this your muse?”

Without thinking, I answer, “Yes.”

“Oh my. You must be quite something.”

Again, I blurt out, “Yes. She is amazing.”

Lisa’s eyes go wide. Realization dawns on me. Either the media will spin this into her being my plaything or they’ll just focus on the fact that I’m fooling around with my publicist. Both could tarnish Lisa’s career and ruin everything she’s done to rebuild my image.

“And who is she?”

I have to salvage this. Who knows how much she already heard, or what she saw. Did she see me kiss Lisa? I’ve already labeled her as my muse and been overly friendly.

“This is my girlfriend, Lisa Vinton. She’s brilliant and has a lot of experience in public relations. She inspires me and has also been helping me stay organized. I’d be lost without her. We met through my uncle, and she was nice enough to tag along with me while I’m here in New York City.”

“Apple,” Lisa says through gritted teeth.

Shit. My cupcake is using our safe word. I must be rambling. The host stares at Lisa with furrowed brows and then her eyes widen in horror. “Apple! She’s allergic. Someone must have an apple. Can you smell it? Are you having a reaction?”

“No. I – I…” Lisa trails off.

“Well, thank you again for having me. We’ll be going.” I quickly say.

Lisa loops her arm through mine and drags me toward the elevators. “What the hell was that?”

“I panicked. She probably saw us kiss. If I said you were my publicist, both of our careers would be in jeopardy.” I release a low whistle. “I really fucked this up.”

Lisa waits until the elevator doors close before she begins smacking me repeatedly. “You think? What are we going to do?”

“I’m sorry. But look, I know you think I’m an egotistical prick, but I really was thinking of you in that moment.”

She rubs her hands together and nods in thought. Speaking mostly to herself she says, “I get it. All is forgiven. Besides, she’s probably already moved on to something else to gossip about and nobody else knows.”

Desperately, I’d like to know if she’s going to take the night off to indulge the idea of just being with me for fun. But it doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask again. I scratch the back of my head and try to think of a way to prolong our time together.

The elevator doors open to the lobby, where we’re met by a group of reporters. Both Lisa’s and my phone begin dinging.

“Casey! Casey! Chef Riis! Chef!” Voices keep repeating my name, and the flashing camera lights are blinding.

We’re surrounded by people. “Who is Lisa Vinton? Is it true she works for your uncle’s company and that’s how you two met?

How long have you two been together? Is she accompanying you to Shell Island? ”

Accompanying me to Shell Island? How’d they hear I was attending the celebrity showdown on the island? I agreed to it only a few days ago. News travels fast. Impressive.

“Casey! Is Miss Vinton accompanying you to Shell Island?”

I blink and then a slow smile spreads across my face. A smile that could rival the Grinch’s. I was just hoping I’d find a way to spend more time with her…

“Of course she is!” I call out. “Please. It’s been a long day. Miss Vinton and I would like to go relax. Y’all have a sweet day.”