Sweet Cheeks (3 page)

Sure she did.
There’s something with her, and I don’t think she’s told Cam everything that went on when she was in Chicago. She’s keeping a secret from him. I can feel it.

I want to pursue it, this could be good. I might just have to use Treasure Pot to get more out of her. It’s for a good cause, to win the daddy I want him to have. Because I sure as hell don’t want him to have his biological one.

Travis.

Travis is an ass. I mean, I always knew he was. I only hooked up with him, to see if it annoyed Cam. And it did. But not for the reasons I wanted it to annoy Cam. He got all protective, but more in a big brother kind of way, not in a jealous boyfriend kind of way. Sucked, and I was a bit pissed off. So one night when Travis and I were both wasted, I slept with the asshole. Not my finest moment, I must admit. Probably my lowest point, but I got Treasure Pot out of it, so in the end it was a big win. The best win.

I rub over my belly, then look up and see Tanning watching me. I feel a little self conscious, and a blush creeps over my cheeks.
What’s wrong with me?
I never blush. I really am getting sick. I give a small cough to check if my throats sore. Seems okay.

“So ... we’re going out to the Brew for a bit. You want to come?” Cam asks.

I immediately look down at my panda top. I want to go, but I really am comfortable and don’t want to change. “Um ... I ah, might give it a miss.” I flick a glance to Tanning, as he takes a swig from his beer bottle. He really has kissable lips. I lick my own lips thinking about his nice lips crashing on mine. I still remember that kiss he gave me all those years ago. If only he was a jock and not a geek, there might have been something worth pursuing. Hmmm….

Bailey moves off Cam’s knees. “We can bring you back dinner, if you like,” she offers and I frown. Not sure where this nice act is coming from, she barely speaks to me usually.

Tanning stands and stretches, flexing his arm muscles, his well defined abs showing through his white t-shirt, and holy hell he’s fine. Must be all that construction work, that's bulked him up over the years.

“Hey, Cam, is Gerry in town,” he says and grins. “I always had a thing for her. I bet she’s
still
smoking hot.” And he flicks his dismissive gaze to me.

I swallow hard. For the first time I feel conscious of my big belly, my swollen ankles, and my puffy face. That kind of hurt. I can’t remember the last time a guy hurt my feelings with a comment like that. That would have been … well, not since ... no need to finish that thought, because I am hot. Or I was. And way hotter than Gerry. Geez, she’s like a four, when I’m a ten for sure. Well, maybe not now, maybe a nine and a half.

Cam glares at him for a few seconds and grunts, “Yeah, she’s still in town. But not for long.”

“Where’s she going?”

“She’s moving to Chicago to University. Doing her Arts degree,” Bailey says, filling him in.

“Yeah. She always was talented. I remember that exhibition we went to of hers. Chicago’s my new neighbourhood. So we could definitely
catch up
.” Tanning winks and it’s so cute. I suddenly wish he was winking about me.

“Not if you want a broken nose,” Bailey says, and laughs.

“Boyfriend?” Tanning asks.

“Bennett,” I cut in. “And he
is
hotter than hell.” I smile for the first time at Tanning, happy to be getting back at him.

He scowls, but I don’t care. Or at least I don’t think I do.

“Okay, well, we’ll get going,” Cam says, ushering them out the door. He stops before he leaves and turns to wink at me. Now that is adorable. “Bring you back a pizza and a chocolate shake.”

I smile and nod. Then he pushes through the door and disappears.

I pout and play with my hair. Not sure what just happened. Bailey is acting all weird. And Tanning, has knocked me off balance a bit. I need to get back on track with my Cam plan.  I look down at my belly saying, “Well, we only have four months, Treasure Pot. Four months to get you the best daddy in the world, and we won’t settle for anything less now, will we.”

THRee

_________________________

I’ve been sweating all night on what Tanning said to me. Or implied. That I’ve lost my hotness. It’s been bothering me more and more, and I haven’t slept well. And I love my sleep. I’m in the kitchen making coffee. Cam loves my coffee, and I want it brewed just right for when he wakes up. Not sure if he brought
Her
home with him last night, but I don’t want
Her
making him coffee. She makes terrible coffee anyway.

I dressed with more care this morning. Not that I want to make an impression on Tanning or anything. I’ve decided he’s a mean ass, and I don’t think I’ll bother with him, even if he is the hottest thing I’ve seen in, well, in forever. I’ve got on my cut off denim shorts, and my pretty blue spaghetti strapped swing top, which shows off my cleavage quite nicely. With the help of Treasure Pot, I’m rocking the busty look.

 Being the weekend, Mrs Winters closes the bakery, although I’ve told her she’s missing out on the tourist trade. She isn’t the smartest business woman. If I owned it, or had more of a say, I’d keep it open all weekend long. She’d make a killing. I’ve often thought about setting up a stall in the street and selling my own baked goods, but that might not be the best plan if I want to keep my job.

I switch on my ipod attached to the little speaker on the kitchen counter top, and dance around to the tunes of Beyoncé. I decide to bake this morning. You'd think I’d be sick of baking, but I truly love it and have this recipe I want to try. Cam loves it. And I love him, so it’s a no brainer. I get out all the ingredients I bought yesterday from the fridge, and arrange them neatly, shaking my bootie to Bootylicious at the same time.

I pin up my hair in a messy bun, and strap on one of Cam’s mom’s aprons. It’s not as pretty as mine, but it makes me laugh. It has a picture of hot lips with,
Kiss the Cook,
written on it.

I can live in hope.

I sigh and pull out the bowl and wooden spoon from the bottom drawer. Cam’s mom has an electric mixer, but I don’t like using those, I like to feel the mixture turning to just the right consistency, plus it’s a damn good workout on my arms. They do look mighty toned these days.

Huh! Not hot! What the hell is he talking about?

I’m just creaming the butter and sugar together when I look up to see Mr Hotness himself in all his morning glory.

Shit!
He doesn’t have a shirt on. Now I do swallow back the drool.

“You baking?” he asks.

I can’t form words at the moment, my mouth has gone dry, and I have to lick my lips and clear my throat. I drag my eyes away from those gorgeous abs and suck in a breath.

“Um ... yeah,” I manage.

“So you work for Mrs Winters. In a
bakery
. “ He bites out the last word
, 
and a sharp pain stabs my gut. I’m not ashamed of what I do. I’m not. I mean I could have gone away to college and got some fancy degree, and I still might. He doesn’t get to judge me.
Who does he think he is?
I can feel my blood pressure rise, but I reel it in. It doesn’t pay to show your emotions. I won’t let him know he’s got to me.

I look back at him trying not to let me eyes roam over his naked chest. God, I wish he’d put a shirt on. On second thoughts, that’d be a tragedy to let all that fineness be covered up.

“Yeah. I do. I love it actually,” I say with a smile.

He grunts something unintelligible and looks around the room, not looking at me. I decide to be civil, even though he’s being an ass again.

“You want a coffee. I just brewed some. Cam says it’s the best in town.”

“Does Cam?” he spits out

Man, he’s on a roll.

“Ah, yeah. “

Not sure where all this hostility is coming from. I really don’t get it. I mean, I wasn’t that nice to him in High School, but that was over four years ago, you’d think he’d forget all that.

I choose to ignore his remarks. If I can get him to stick around a bit, I can keep getting glimpses of that mighty fine chest, and if I’m honest I don’t want him to go away just yet. Or maybe ever.

I take a mug from the cupboard and pour him one. “You have cream and sugar?” I ask with my best flirty smile.

He grimaces, like he’s in pain. “No. Black.”

 
Okay.
This is going well.

At least he takes the coffee from me, and I get back to my mixture, wondering if he’ll stay and chat. I have to mix this just right and pay attention, or it will go all lumpy. I concentrate hard, the bowl pressed against my chest, and I’m stirring like a wild thing, then I spin around and put the bowl back on the counter, and hear a small hitch of breath behind me. I turn just in time to see Mr Hotness checking out my ass. Oh, good shorts, they always do the trick. The apron must have been hiding my legs from him. I want to high five myself.

So he doesn’t think I’m hot. Right. I’ll show him.

He slams the coffee mug on the table and storms out. Obviously pissed I caught him checking me out.

Well isn’t that just the darndest thing.  He’s in denial. Poor thing, I just might have a bit of fun, make him squirm a little. The hardest fish are always the best ones to catch. And I might have just snagged me a really big fish.

Game on hotty.

I spend the rest of the morning in the garden. I’ve decided to help Cam’s mom. The garden’s been in a terrible state since Cam’s dad died. He was the green thumb, now Cam doesn’t have the time, and Cam’s mom prefers to sew, and do research type projects for an internet company she works for. I don’t mind though, I love the outdoors, and it gives me a chance to get a start on my tan. I can’t walk around in my bikini anymore, not with Treasure Pot. I don’t want a burnt stomach. But I can wear my swim shorts and tight t-shirt. It’s really hot today, and I’m sweating a little by the time I come back inside. Cam's gone over to 
Her 
place, so I’m here alone.

Not sure where Mr Hotness has got too. Mumbled something about doing some errands as he rushed out the door. I miss Cam. I miss they way we used to spend time together on the weekends. Now he’s always with
Her
. Every second of every day. You’d think he’d get sick of it. But he can’t seem to get enough. I’ve never been in a relationship like that. Even when Cam and I spent a lot of time together, I mean I do love him and want him, but I still like my own space. I don’t think I’ll ever be so caught up in someone, I can’t breathe without them. Seems like a ridiculous romantic notion. I relish my independence. Always have. I mean I had boyfriends, but they were mostly arm candy, someone to take me to the right parties and places.

I sigh and open the fridge, taking out the jug of lemonade I made this morning. It feels beautiful and cold. I pour a tall glass and return outside, to sit on the front porch to admire my morning’s work. I’ve managed to clear all the weeds from the front pond, so you can actually see it. Now for the afternoon, I plan on clearing the weeds around the front porch steps. There are some really big ones, so I decide to go round back and find a spade. I spy one, it looks a bit heavy and awkward, but it’ll have to do.

I put my gloves on, so I don’t chip my newly manicured nails. I intend going out tonight and I want to look my finest. Hoping I might bump into a certain someone and get them all worked up with their denial. I smile at the thought and spear the spade into the hard ground. It only goes in about half an inch and the impact hurts my hands.
Ouch.
Stupid spade. I have another go and this time I put all my muscle into it, which doesn’t seem to help. I’m about to pound the spade into the dirt again, when I hear a deep husky voice say, “You’re not doing that right.”

It's Tanning, and he’s close behind me. So close, I can feel the heat of him, and I shiver involuntarily. I grip the handle tighter and count to three, before I turn around with my best smile.

“Care to show me how it’s done then?”

“Not really. I only came back to grab a change of clothes. I’m going to play golf.”

“Oh.” I sound like I'm disappointed, and I want to kick myself.

I shrug instead and turn, looking at the crappy hard ground. Now I’m more determined than ever to plough through this stupid garden patch. I don’t need his help anyway.

Leaning on the spade I wait for him to leave. I don’t want him hanging around, laughing at me and being an ass.

He sighs long and hard, and I clench hold of the handle.

Why isn’t he leaving?

“Give it here,” he commands.

I narrow my eyes, I don’t want to give it to him, but if he wants to think I’m a helpless female, he can. It's a good image for me.

I stand with my fake smile pasted in place and pass him the spade. It actually hurts to have that stupid smile on my face. I’m usually so good at keeping up the act, but I’m struggling today. He’s making me struggle.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” I say all sweetness, wanting to puke at my own insincerity.