One Funeral (No Weddings Book 2) (2 page)

The intensity of our first encounter, where we’d denied ourselves what our bodies wanted, still burned through me, magnified a thousand times over by the vivid memory of last night’s surrender to that attraction. I smiled, lost in the sensual echoes of his incredible kiss as I opened the shop and locked the door behind me.

I glanced at the overstuffed chairs and couch in the lounge-style corner. Cade had suggested warming the atmosphere with the coffeehouse-style furniture, especially the couch. Then he’d broken in said couch by occupying it regularly.

On a shaky breath, I hurried back to the kitchen, hoping to clear my head of whatever jolted through my body like a quad espresso. I also needed to clear my body of its instant addiction to the muscular god, otherwise known as Cade.

As soon as my gleaming oasis surrounded me, my whole body settled on a heavy sigh. Stainless steel and white marbled granite spanned the fifteen-hundred-square-foot space. High windows on the back wall had shutters painted in bright yellow, pulled back to bring in natural light. Touches of metallic red brightened the counters with a small blender, mixer, and toaster, but those were decorative pieces, used only when I wanted to make something for myself, like a smoothie for lunch.

And in this quiet space, within my haven of creative expression, I found peace whenever anxiety keyed me up. When the outside world got to be too much, I went deep into my private refuge at Sweet Dreams and baked my ass off.

Four hours later, the white counters were covered in a rainbow of cupcakes frosted in pinks, greens, yellows, and tangerines. As we were headed into Easter, I created themed frosting tops to look like grassy egg-filled baskets. Two dozen of those beauties lined the front edge, waiting to go up into the display case.

I jumped at an unexpected sound, a knock rapping at the front door. Confused, as both of my employees, Chloe and Daniel, had keys, I wiped excess yellow frosting onto my apron and went up to the front.

I gasped when I saw who stood outside on the front sidewalk.

“
Cade.
”

Rushing to the door, I unlocked it and pulled it open.

In each of his large hands was a Starbucks coffee cup. With his rumpled hair and dark shadow of stubble, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked down at me, like the struggle for being awake still raged on. “Morning.”

My heart flipped as I stared at him. And in the still-vivid aftermath of last night’s kiss, I found myself at a loss for any kind of clever banter, when witty replies had always come easily. “What are you doing here?”

Larger than life, his six-two frame dominated the entryway. “Don’t worry. I only stopped by to say ‘hi.’ Couldn’t wait ’til tonight to see you.” He handed me a cup. “Soy mocha latte, no whip.” He leaned down, smirking. “Am I bad for wishing you’d do the whip?”

The cup I’d been lifting paused midway to my lips. I held the hot liquid between us as if it was a talisman, protecting me from his devastating charms and the innuendo, heavy in his tone. Then my self-defense mechanism kicked in. “Very bad. Like running to the bathroom and vomiting out the wrong end bad.”

A deep scowl marred his handsome face. “Do
not
ruin my fantasy. I’m the one eating the cream.” His face relaxed, the wicked gleam sparking back in his eyes.

Eyeing him for a beat, I pulled the top off the paper cup, then blew on the scorching liquid, feeling easier banter flow back into my brain. “Maybe you should keep wild dairy fantasies to yourself.” I turned and walked toward the back, hiding a smirk as I left him standing in my entryway.

Behind me, I heard the door shut and the latch click, locking us in. “Aw, come on. What fun would that be?”

Stopping only when I’d made it to the center of the kitchen, I turned and stood my ground behind a giant worktable, hoping it was a safe enough distance from the overwhelming man I’d let into my safety zone. Part of the very thing that caused my sleeplessness now stood here in the sinful flesh in the very place I’d sought out to find peace.

And I had found it. Baking soothed me as nothing else ever had. Precise measurements, expected results, creative artistry all blended together to take me out of my head and into a mindless state of simply
being
.

Cade scanned the cake-filled room with wide eyes. “Whoa, Maestro. You’ve been busy.”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.” He tore his eyes away from the sea of colored frosting, staring at me with an unreadable expression while he sipped his coffee.

“Really?” Relieved, I blew out a breath.

He nodded but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he continued to watch me. His gaze held no sexual heat but had a curious intensity, like he was trying to read me.

I took a sip of my coffee, my gaze drifting down to a row of ivory-frosted red velvet cupcakes as I fought all the worries pinging around in my head that had kept me up through the night. When I glanced back up, Cade had moved.

I gasped when he embraced me from the side, pulling me close. The heat he gave off rolled through me like a crashing wave of fire, stealing my breath away. I closed my eyes, turning into him. Bracing myself for fear I’d melt right into him, I pushed my palms onto his chest and looked up into his eyes.

They were a bright electric blue in this light, mesmerizing. He tightened his grip around my body, which was good, because my knees began to shake.

“I can’t think when you do this.” A whisper was all I could manage.

“Good. Stop thinking.”

We stared at each other for long seconds.

He lifted his hand, brushing a stray lock of hair off of my face. “You sure you’re ready for tonight?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. I came to my kitchen for therapy. Well, besides needing merchandise for customers. But baking seemed to help me until you showed up.”

He slid his arms down to my lower back, caging me in his hold. “And then what happened?”

Through a deep breath, I tried to crystallize the thoughts and fears rampant in my mind. “Chaos,” I admitted. “Me wanting you, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world—you know how broken I am, and still, you want me. Then, worried my level of brokenness might break us too. Then I go back to wanting you again.”

His lips curved into a smirk. “Well, I like the ‘me wanting you’ part.”

I slapped his chest and scowled as I lowered my gaze to the floor. “Be serious, Cade. I’m fucked up.”

“You are
not
fucked up.” He dropped his head and leaned sideways until I looked at him. “Look, we’re together in this, you and me. It’s okay to feel scared and confused—I feel the same.”

With a furrowed brow, I dropped my forehead onto his chest, angry that I couldn’t be better than the wreck I constantly felt like.

He tucked a finger under my chin and forced my gaze to meet his. “Think you can take a leap of faith with me?”

We stood on the precipice of a cliff higher than I’d ever imagined being on. The water was so far down I couldn’t see the bottom. But we’d never find completion, never soar through the air, unless we took the leap and faced the plunge. We had to trust each other. Trust in ourselves.

I was ready to dive off the cliff—as long as Cade held my hand. I needed to stop all the self-deprecating second-guessing. I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He tapped his finger on the end of my nose. “Now have I told you lately that I love your method of therapy?” He swiped up a red velvet cupcake, ripped the wrapper clean off, and shoved it into his mouth, whole. As his jaw worked, he closed his eyes and moaned.

I laughed and broke out of his arms, both hating and needing the distance between us. “Enjoying therapy much?”

Laughter rumbled in his chest as amusement danced in his eyes. Like a spoiled kid, he nodded, crimson-colored crumbs tumbling out of his mouth.

The gleam in his eyes shifted hotter when he swallowed down the last of the cupcake. “I’m going to need a
lot
more therapy.” His head bent forward, and he stalked toward me. “Hands-on therapy, Maestro.”

I turned and darted out of his reach. When he grabbed my apron as I rounded the back corner of the counter, I squealed. The moment I whirled around, he pushed me back and pinned me against the wall. I braced an arm onto the counter for balance but knocked a stack of metal bowls off the edge, and they clattered onto the floor.

His gaze devoured me, ravenous. He glanced at my lips, then up into my eyes as we huffed from the energy burst and sudden excitement.

A huge smile curved onto my face, hands-on therapy doing wonders already. “How about lip-to-lip therapy?”

His answer was a crushing kiss that took my breath away.

N
ervous didn’t begin to describe my state of mind. Midday, Chloe sent me home. She’d claimed my vapid stare and zombie shuffle scared off the few customers brave enough to speak to me that morning. Exhausted from my sleepless night, I fell onto the bed facedown and didn’t move a muscle until well past six.

“Oh my God!” I burst up off the bed. I had just over an hour to get ready for my date. Minutes later, still groggy from dead-to-the-world sleep, I rested my forehead on the cold shower tile while I tried to wake up. Hot water pulsed down my back as I reflected on how far I’d come in almost two years: from shunning every man who’d dared glance in my direction to tonight—my first date in years.

But tonight wasn’t
just
a first date.

First dates were when you met a person to decide if you had compatibility. Cade and I already had that with our laughter and easy banter. Both of us were intelligent and driven when it came to business. Family was important to him, like mine had been to me.

A potential couple also used the initial meeting to assess whether or not they had chemistry. I snorted as I turned and began to soap my body down. The air between us sizzled with so much sensual heat, I risked spontaneous combustion every time he stepped into the room.

In our unique situation, tonight would determine whether or not we could act on our compatibility and chemistry. Could we take things further without destroying what we already had? With how close we’d become as friends and business associates, there was a lot at stake.

As usual, the more I considered what tonight meant for us and the challenges we faced, both individually and together, the more jumbled my thoughts became.

I forced a deep breath into my lungs and focused on the calming things about Cade: his warm smile, those bright blue eyes when they twinkled with amusement, or when they darkened to midnight blue as they heated with desire. Then I remembered his lips on mine, how he made fire arc though my body, between my legs. My body shuddered under the shower spray, and I sighed deeply as I rested my forehead on the cool tile again.

To pull myself out of the unending spiral, I turned the spray to ice cold and squealed from the icy shock before turning it off.

After I applied body lotion and makeup, followed by a quick blow-dry, I had ten minutes left to choose an outfit. Minutes ticked by as I stared at a closet with nothing to wear. I’d already teased him at his club in a black dress I’d bought for our “first” first date, before it had gotten canceled. On instinct, I grabbed a dress I knew looked good on me and quickly put it on.

I didn’t have a spare second to breathe, let alone worry further about tonight. A soft knock at the door ended my race to get ready. I clasped a thin silver necklace graced with a diamond solitaire behind my neck; the piece was a last birthday present from Gran, and I wanted her with me tonight. Her presence in my mind would be like a warm hug if I needed it.

Nervous, I opened the door right as another knock hit it. Cade’s fist hung in midair where the surface of the door used to be.

I exhaled a lungful of air in a big whoosh and blinked. He stood right in front of me, but I only seemed capable of staring into his vivid blue eyes before sucking in a deep breath, which prevented me from the definitive embarrassment of keeling over in my entryway.

“Wow, Hannah. You look incredible.” He leaned a shoulder into the doorframe, as if he needed the four-by-four for support.

Mildly relieved by my similar impact on him, I lowered my gaze and took in his outfit. An open-collared dress shirt, jacket, pants, even his shoes, were all inky black, like he’d materialized from the darkness beyond.

The emerald-green wraparound dress I wore had been my mother’s. Granpop loved seeing her in it, commenting about how it brought out the green in her hazel eyes. I’d chosen it partly because I had my mother’s eyes, but mostly because it made me feel strong and beautiful like she’d been. As I smoothed my hands down the silk covering my thighs, Cade didn’t stop staring. His gaze caressed my skin along with the soft fabric. I took a comforting deep breath. I’d chosen well.

He took a step closer and a single red rose popped in between us. My eyes widened before I laughed and reached out to accept the long-stemmed flower. “Thank you.” I closed my eyes, buried my nose into the crimson petals, and inhaled its fragrance. I set it on the side table, confident the cylinder of water at its base would keep it fresh. But I did pluck a soft outer petal before we left.