Icing On The Date (The Bannister Brothers #1) (4 page)

She raised an eyebrow at him. Was he for real? Did he want something from her?

Maybe he was buttering her up to make sure she didn’t talk to the press about what happened last night. “Okay, enough. You are killing me with the bad lines. Seriously, what are you doing here?”

He sighed and gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m here to humbly apologize for what an idiot I was last night and to tell you thanks for helping me out. And for being discreet about it.”

“Oh gosh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m used to it.”

“Used to taking care of drunk guys in women’s restrooms? Wow, the life of a caterer must be pretty exciting.”

She laughed. “No, not so much at work. But my little brother is always getting into scrapes, and I feel like I’m always helping him out.”

“Like last night. You really had your hands full. First me, then you still had your brother to deal with. Did you get him bailed out of jail last night?”

She cringed. “I don’t know why I told you all that stuff. I was kind of hoping you’d been too drunk to remember any of it.”

“I was pretty drunk, but I remember a lot of what happened last night. The important stuff at least.”

The important stuff?
Did he mean the kiss? She glanced up at him.

He was looking at her lips. Oh my gosh. He had to mean the kiss. A dart of heat shot up her spine, and she could feel warmth color her cheeks.

He must have seen the blush because he chuckled softly—a low rumble that came from his chest and made her insides turn a little gooey.

Geez. What was happening to her? She prided herself on being responsible and practical—not ruled by her emotions. Like her brother. And her step-father.

But one little chuckle from a good-looking guy, and she was melting into a puddle.

Okay, to be fair, he wasn’t just good-looking. He was Greek god, hot as hell, ridiculously good-looking. And he’d had his tongue in her mouth only a few hours ago. Those facts might warrant a little emotion on her part.

“Look, I really am sorry,” he said. “And I do appreciate what you did. I’d like to make it up to you. Maybe take you to lunch today?”

Lunch? Not dinner? What did that mean? Dinner implied a date. Lunch usually stood for
just friends
—two buddies grabbing a bite together. Or maybe he really had been excited to see her and didn’t want to wait until tonight. He had shown up at the bakery before nine o’clock in the morning.

It didn’t matter. She didn’t have time for either one today.

“I really appreciate the offer. But I don’t have time for lunch today. I have a huge order that I’m working on this morning, and I have to take the cupcake truck out to try to grab the lunchtime crowd. Thanks to my brother, I’ll be working straight through any lunch break I might have had today. I bailed him out of jail last night, and he turned around and
bailed out
on working for me today.”

“Then that’s how I can make amends for last night. I’ll stand in for your brother and help you out today.” Owen rubbed his hands together. “Put me to work. Just show me what to do?”

She planted her fists on her hips and gave him a skeptical look. “You? You’re going to help me make cupcakes? And drive the truck around? The truck with a big pink cupcake painted on its side?”

“Sure, why not?” He gave her a devilish grin. “I’m man enough to handle some pink.”

“Um—maybe because you’re a famous hockey player. Why bother helping me?”

The grin fell from his face, and she swore she saw a look of hurt pass through his eyes. “You knew who I was this whole time? But last night—”

“No, I didn’t. Sorry to break it to you, Mr. Famous, but I had no idea who you were last night.”

“I’m not insulted that you didn’t recognize me. It’s just that last night, you acted like I was just a regular guy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Geez. You are a regular guy. Except that you’re insanely gorgeous and happen to be good at playing hockey.” Her eyes widened.
Shit
. Had she really just said that? Out loud? Maybe he didn’t notice.

The naughty glint in his eye told her he noticed.

Keep talking. Distract him.
“I run my own business. I don’t have time to follow sports. The only reason I know who are now is because I saw you on the news this morning.”

His eyes widened, all traces of fun gone. “The news? What news? When?”

“The morning news. The local Denver station, I guess. They ran a story about you this morning. It was on as I was walking out the door, so it probably aired about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Did you leak it?”

“Me? No. What are talking about? I told you—I didn’t even know who you were until I saw your picture on the television this morning.”

He shook his head, his mouth set in a hard line. “Sorry. You’re right. That was a gut reaction. I didn’t really think you leaked it. There are pictures? How bad are they?”

“There was only one. It was you and your party-girl, Bridget—or Brittany. Sorry, don’t remember which.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t remember for sure either. And she was no girl of mine. I’d just met her in the club last night. And now I’m wondering if that was all a set-up anyway.”

“A set-up? What for?”

He let out a sigh. “Oh, you’d be amazed at what people do just to get their fifteen minutes of fame. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fans of The Summit. Most of them are great people. But there are those that only want to use you because they think you can do something for them. Spend money on them, introduce them to someone, or just get their name in the paper or on television.”

She had no idea. Even though he had to have known that the notoriety came with the profession, she felt a little sorry for him. She certainly knew what it was like to be used. Not for fame or recognition, but definitely for money. And she had much less than Owen did. Much, much less.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. “Shit. That’s Bane. He must have heard about the news story. He’s gonna be pissed.”

Chapter Three

Owen held the phone up to his ear to answer the call. “Hey, brother.”

“Hey, O. I just saw you and some blonde having a party on the news. It looks like they got your good side.” Bane’s sarcasm sounded light, but Owen knew he had to be mad. “Have you seen it?”

“No, I didn’t see the piece, but I just now heard about it. Have you heard from Harvey?”

“Oh, yeah I have. He called me within minutes of the spot airing. He’s not a happy camper.”

Harvey Skaggs was the team’s publicist, and he wasn’t often a happy camper when it came to Owen. “Great. I’m sure he’s gonna chew my ass a good one for this. I wonder why he hasn’t called me yet.”

“He was going to, but I told him not to worry about it. I told him I’d call you and pass along the information.”

An uneasy feeling settled in Owen’s gut. “What information?”

“He wants to see us both in his office at four o’clock this afternoon.”

“Both? Why? You didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“You know why.”

Yeah, he did. Bane being summoned to the office was another casualty of Owen’s reckless behavior. When would he learn? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bane said. “We’re in this together. This thing is just as much my fault as it is yours. Well, not the getting drunk and partying it up for the press last night—that’s all on you. I’ll see you at four o’clock.”

“All right, I’ll be there. Thanks, bro.” He hung up the phone.

“Are you in big trouble?” Gabby asked. Her eyes were filled with concern. Her gorgeous green eyes. A guy could get lost in those eyes.

His problem seemed to be that he was already lost. Maybe what he needed was to be found.

He sighed again. “It seems like I’m always in big trouble. But yeah, this one’s gonna be pretty bad. I screwed up royally this time.” He pasted on a smile and picked the box up off the counter. “All right, where does this go? Enough messing around, it sounds like we’ve got work to do.”

Stunned, she stared at him. “You still want to help me?”

“Of course, I do. I said I would, and I owe you after helping me last night.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t. I didn’t really even do anything except keep you company.”

“You did more than keep me company. You kept me out of sight and called my brother to come get me. And kept me from making more of an ass of myself.” And she’d kissed the hell out of him. There was that. But now didn’t seem the best time to bring that up. He offered a grin. “And you let me sample your chocolate frosting. That’s gotta be worth a few hours of help in the kitchen.”

She laughed. “I don’t know if my chocolate’s that good.”

Oh, it was
. Everything about her seemed to be
that
good.

She took a step closer and laid a hand on his arm. Looking up at him, he could see flecks of gold in her green eyes. “Really, Owen. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to.” He gave her his most dashing grin. “You’ll actually be doing me a favor by keeping me busy and keeping my mind off the trouble I’m going to be in when I meet with the team’s publicist this afternoon.”

He could see her softening. “Okay. But I’m not taking it easy on you. Making cupcakes isn’t for sissies. If you’re really serious, I’ll put you to work.”

“Let’s do it.”

She led him into the kitchen and pointed to the big island counter in the center of the room. “You can set that box there.”

He put the box down and looked around the room. Industrial appliances lined one wall, and a big sink and drainer filled another. One set of shelves held baking supplies and cooking utensils. Stacks of cookie sheets and muffin tins filled another set. Every surface gleamed, and it was obvious she took pride in keeping a clean and tidy kitchen.

He took off his coat and threw it on a meticulously clean desk. “Don’t worry, Angel. I’m up to the challenge.”

“Okay. Let’s get busy,” she said.

He chuckled and loved the way a pink tinge colored her cheeks as she realized her double entendre.

***

Gabby’s mouth went dry as she watched Owen pull off his sweater and drop it on his coat. He wore a light blue T-shirt under the sweater and the snug cotton hugged his muscled chest. She’d never been so jealous of a shirt before.

The guy seemed sweet and funny. And cute. So freaking cute.

But she knew from his conversation and the things he’d told her the night before that he had a wild side that leaned toward self-destruction. And she knew that behavior all too well. She’d seen it in her brother more times than she could count.

She grimaced as she thought about that brother and that he was the one who’d left her without help this morning.

So, despite the distraction of his cute butt and perfect pecs, she needed Owen’s body. To line cupcake pans and mix batter. That was all. She did not need to get involved with another guy who was bent on destroying all the good things in his life.

She reached for two big mixing bowls and hooked them into the industrial mixers. “We need to get the batter going. I’ve got to make six dozen cupcakes for a special order. And I need to prepare a hundred more to take out on the truck to catch the noon-time crowd after church.”

His eyes widened. “We’re making a hundred and seventy-two cupcakes this morning? Before noon?”

She grinned and led him to the sink to wash their hands. “Cute
and
good at math.”

He laughed and rubbed soap into his hands under the running water. “I do have a few skills.”

I bet you do
. A shot of heat ran down her spine as his hand brushed hers. No time to think about his
skills
now. They had work to do and a lot of it.

She grabbed her favorite pink apron and pulled it over her head. The fabric was covered with images of pink and green frosted cupcakes.

“Where’s mine?” he teased.

She grabbed another apron, this one plain pink. Holding out the neck opening, she dared him to stick his head through.

Evidently he liked a dare.

“Just the one I would have picked. Pink is one of my favorite colors.” Owen winked and ducked his head through. She laughed as he turned and held his arms up for her to tie the strings in the back.

Her fingers fumbled as she tried to tie the strings into a bow. His back was like hard granite, and she had a sudden image of running her hands along his shoulders as he’d kissed her the night before.

Focus, girl.

Two large bins of sugar and flour sat on the floor under the big mixers, and she opened the lid to the flour and handed him a measuring cup. “I need two cups of flour in each bowl.”

“Sifted or unsifted?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s pre-sifted.”

“Hey, my mom raised a bunch of boys, and she loved having company in the kitchen. If we wanted cookies or dessert, we had to help her make them. She taught all of us how to cook.” He dipped the cup into the flour and used the edge of the lid to level the cup before he dumped it into the bowl. “I told you I had skills.”

“I’m impressed.” She grinned at him. “With your mom. She sounds great.”

“She is. She’s got a huge heart and a sarcastic mouth. She needed it to control us boys. But she loves us all to death, and she’ll get a huge kick out of hearing about me spending my morning making two hundred cupcakes.”

Gabby liked the way he spoke about his mom. No bitterness or disrespect. Only love and admiration. She liked that. She was starting to like him.
Really
like him.

A bad boy that loved his mom? Yes, please. She was a sucker for just that type.

But that was exactly the type that she needed to stay away from. That got her into trouble and took her focus away from what was important to her. Getting her business going, turning a substantial profit and getting out of this neighborhood. Getting out from under the scrutiny of her family and the thumb of her dad.

She’d fallen into the bad boy trap before. Fallen hard. Hook, line, and sinker. And she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Time to concentrate on that business right now.

She pointed at the wall behind the mixers where she’d posted the recipes for the cupcake batter. “We need one bowl of vanilla and one of chocolate. You work on the dry ingredients, and I’ll work on the wet.”

Geez, why did it feel like everything she said this morning sounded dirty? Did she really ask him earlier if he wanted to
get busy
?

No wonder. Everything about the guy screamed ‘Jump me now.” Working together in the tight space, her hip and arm brushing his as they dumped ingredients and bustled around the small kitchen.

She needed to start him on another task. On the other side of the kitchen.

She grabbed eight metal trays and a package of cupcake liners then lined them up on the center island. “These trays hold twenty-four cupcakes each, and we need them all lined. If you drop a liner in each cup, then I’ll finish the batter and start filling them.”

He took the package, peeled a liner free, dropped it into the pan, then offered her a sarcastic grin. “You’re really taking advantage of my intelligence now. Giving me the real thinking task.”

She shrugged. “I told you. Cupcake-making isn’t for sissies.”

“I believe you.” He moved quickly, filling the pans with liners and passing them across the counter to her.

“We’re already behind schedule.” She finished mixing the last of the ingredients into the chocolate batter and carried the bowl to the table. Using an ice cream scoop, she dumped a dollop of batter into each liner.

She gestured to the bowl of vanilla and passed him a fresh scoop. “We need three trays filled with vanilla batter and five with chocolate. The special order I got at last night’s party isn’t complicated. She wants six dozen chocolate with cream cheese frosting.”

“You got an order last night for six dozen cupcakes. That’s cool.”

It had been cool. She’d been thrilled. Especially after the hit to her savings account. It was a little inconvenient to rush to make seventy-two cupcakes this morning, but she didn’t care. The order couldn’t have come at a better time.

“A woman approached me last night at the party. She said she loved the cupcakes and asked if she could special order six dozen for a football party she was throwing tonight for the Bronco game. I told her that I could not only make them, I’d also personally deliver them to her house wearing a Manning jersey.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I thought you said you didn’t follow sports.”

“I don’t. Well, except the Broncos, of course.”

“Of course. So I suppose if Peyton Manning would have stumbled into the bathroom last night, you would have recognized him?”

She laughed, enjoying teasing him. “Oh yeah. Peyton’s adorable.”

“He’s a pretty good guy.”

“You know him?” It would make sense that he would, since they were both big names in the sports industry.

“A little. I’ve been to a couple of parties at his house and done some fundraising events with him. He’s actually a really nice guy and pretty humble. He doesn’t have a big head like a lot of those guys do.”

“Those famous sports guy types, you mean?”

He laughed and switched to the next tray. “Yeah, those types.”

She loaded the filled trays into the preheated ovens, taking the last one from him as he finished filling the cups. “Now they bake for eighteen minutes and cool for fifteen. We need to fold carryout boxes for the truck and prepare the frostings and the garnish. We’re making a chocolate, a sour-cream white, and a cookies and cream. Plus we need to wash some blueberries and slice strawberries for the fruit-topped ones.”

They worked quietly together. She occasionally gave him instructions, but he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said his mom taught him to bake. He knew his way around the kitchen and found things to do to help. He washed dishes, mixed ingredients, and folded and lined a tower of different sized cupcake boxes.

She filled a pastry bag with chocolate frostings and folded over the top. Setting the cooled pans of cupcakes on the counter, she pointed to a can of sprinkles and box of plastic football picks. “Okay, I’ll frost and I need you to be the chaser. Follow along behind me and after I frost the cupcake, give it a quick sprinkle of sugar, stick a football pick in it, then put it in the box.”

“I can do that. I’ve been told I’m a fairly good chaser.” He smirked as she tossed an empty box at him. “What? It’s just a rumor.”

She laughed as she spread a perfect swirl of frosting onto the first cupcake.

He groaned as the aroma of chocolate filled the air. “This frosting reminds me of the way you smelled last night. I didn’t realize I preferred the scent of chocolate over perfume.”

Did he really want to talk about last night? What if he brought up the kiss? She was both glad and a little disappointed that he hadn’t tried to kiss her again today. The magic spell of last night must have worn off. Or now he was just sober.