The Heavenly Baker (8 page)

Chapter Twelve – Life or Cupcakes

The hospital coffee machine is my new best friend. I lose count of the number of visits I have made. The whirr of the mechanisms is strangely comforting.

‘Ava.'

His voice is so familiar yet it sends chills down my spine and not the right chills. It is after two. My father has been in surgery for four hours.

‘Go away.'

‘I don't know what happened.'

‘I do. You cheated.'

‘I don't remember. Everything is blurry.'

‘I saw you. She had your cock in her hand. Look up the definition of cheating in the dictionary. That's it.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘So am I.'

‘How is your father?'

‘Don't!' The tears come up quickly, mixing easily with the vitriol and the anger bubbling in my blood. ‘You don't get to ask after my family, so don't!'

‘Let me help.'

‘Go away. You don't get to help any more because you're not a part of my life. Leave me alone!'

He shakes his head and I see sorrow in his eyes. Or it might just be my own sorrow reflected.

‘Go away!' I repeat and I watch him turn and walk away. I feel the tugging of my heart but I ignore it. I am stronger than that. I will not be played again.

I sit.

I read.

I drink coffee.

Mum and I cry.

The clock stops.

The fear never goes away.

Dad keeps fighting.

I need air.

Laura gets out of a taxi and walks towards the hospital entrance but spies me wandering and walks over, hugging me to her.

‘I'm so sorry,' she whispers. ‘We all are. If there is anything we can do to help just say the word.'

‘There's nothing you can do,' I say but I am glad to see her.

She releases me. ‘What's the situation?'

‘He's had a heart attack and now they're operating to clear the blockage and fix him up.'

‘Good.' Laura chews on her lips then decides to press on. ‘We need to talk and I know that you don't want to hear it, but I'm going to tell you anyway, because you need to know.'

‘He cheated on me. I saw it with my own eyes.'

‘And if that were true I'd shoot him myself. But here's the thing, sweetheart, it's just not Matt's style. He's not vindictive and he's not that malicious and he remembers nothing, which is highly suspicious.'

‘I really don't want to talk about this,' I tell her. ‘What's done is done. You can't change it. I can't turn the clock back.'

‘No, but at least if you have the facts you can make an informed decision and that's all we can really ask.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Matt's pretty honest. When he says the evening is a blur I believe him. Being in television, I know a few people, and one of those is good at analysing drinks and the chemicals people put in them.'

‘I don't follow.'

‘Matt was drugged last night. We have conclusive proof. Someone went to his room, slipped him a sleeping pill crushed up in a glass of champagne, and then presumably sent you a text, because he has no recollection of ever having sent it.'

‘You seriously expect me to believe that someone drugged Matt last night then sent me a text inviting me over to see him?'

‘Not just someone, but Roxy McQueen,' explains Laura. ‘You don't know the little minx but I do and she's as scheming and vicious as they come.'

‘So why didn't Matt warn me about her?'

‘He was trying to protect you by playing it cool, not showing you any attention so Roxy wouldn't have been any the wiser about you two, but Matt being Matt, he didn't figure that a woman's sixth sense would come into play. Roxy suspected all along. Matt has been playing cool with her for weeks and she's no fool. She's been watching the competition so far and the chemistry between you and Matt is white hot. It doesn't take a genius to work out what's going on.'

‘Is she really that vindictive?'

‘She's worse. She's a woman scorned and you know how that goes.'

‘Yes, I do.'

‘I know it doesn't make a huge difference in the grand scheme of things,' admits Laura. ‘But I thought you should know.'

‘I appreciate the truth,' I tell her. ‘But I'm not sure I can deal with it right now and seeing Matt earlier really didn't help.'

‘That's because you didn't know the truth back then.'

‘Maybe,' I say, but I can't quite shift the image of him with Roxy. It is corrosive, gently burning into all the good memories of Matt and me that I have been building up to savour on a rainy day. ‘I have to go.'

‘If you need anything,' she whispers, hugging me. ‘All you have to do is ask.'

‘Thank you.' I hug her back before walking back into the hospital. Perhaps someone has news for me about my father because the waiting is just desperate.

I put Laura's news to the back of my mind but it refuses to stay there. I concentrate on focusing all my positive energy on my father but as I look around I see boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives, families looking after each other in times of need, and even though what I saw wasn't the truth, it still hurts. To think of Matt with another woman sears my heart. It is too painful to think about and I have enough pain to deal with right now, thanks very much, so maybe I'm better off without the hassle. After all, blood has always been thicker than water and my family needs me right now. The rest of it is just a distraction. So I sit and I wait and I squeeze my mother's hand.

Out of the blue she says, ‘So where's this famous baker I've heard so much about?'

Her question takes me completely off-guard.

‘He's not here right now.'

‘I can see that,' says Mum. ‘The question is why not – or is the answer obvious?'

‘We had a disagreement.'

‘Surely this trumps disagreements?'

‘I thought he cheated on me,' I tell her. ‘But his assistant is convinced his ex-girlfriend drugged him. I know it sounds crazy, but she really believes that's what happened.'

‘Do you believe her?'

‘She has no reason to lie.'

‘Not even to cover for her boss?' asks Mum.

‘I don't think she'd do that.'

‘So call him. If this has taught me anything then it's that every minute is precious and yet we take it all for granted. We get distracted by the minutiae of life when we really shouldn't. Go, call him.'

‘I don't know, Mum.'

‘OK, then don't call him.'

I sit and ponder. Mum chuckles to herself. ‘Please, sweetheart, just go and call him.'

‘How come you're so wise, Mum?'

‘I'm not that wise,' she admits. ‘Otherwise I would have seen this coming.'

‘But if there were no surprises I suppose life would be dull,' I say, reaching a rare moment of clarity.

‘And life has always been about highs and lows. Go, call him, and I'll be here waiting when you get back.'

‘Dad will get through this, won't he?'

‘Yes,' murmurs my mother. ‘I think he will.'

I wind my way through the hospital corridors until I find myself outside once more and my phone starts chattering, announcing the arrival of a new message.

I know I should hate him, but HB is awesome. Cleared the backlog and baking up a storm. Think he might be innocent. Call me. Carly XXX

I hit the speed dial and wait for the familiar sound of my best friend's voice.

‘Any news?' she asks.

‘Dad's still in surgery. What's with the message?'

‘I don't want to be seen as a turncoat but your boy turned up at the bakery and wouldn't leave. He just set up in the back and cracked on clearing the backlog and now he and the rest of his team are on an all-out baking assault. I think he's innocent.'

‘That's the general line of thinking,' I admit.

‘But what do you think?' asks Carly. ‘What does your heart tell you?'

‘I was so angry with him before.'

‘But that's before you knew the truth. What about now?'

‘I've been trying not to think about it.'

‘You'd better start considering it because we're about to leave.'

‘You're coming here?' I say.

‘Yes. I'd like to say more but it's probably best you see it, really.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘You will soon enough,' she says.

Carly hangs up, leaving me curious. I don't have to wait long. The truck is a monster, easing its way into the hospital entrance. An army of helpers disembark from a fleet of support vehicles and then they start unloading.

‘Crazy, isn't it?' remarks Carly, appearing out of the chaos.

‘I don't understand.'

‘It's a full-scale cake assault. We've been baking all afternoon. HB put the word out and it wasn't long before every other bakery in the county was in on the programme.'

‘What programme?' I ask.

‘I guess it's like feeding the five thousand but with cake,' she suggests as we watch tray upon tray of cupcakes being unloaded and delivered to the hospital to be distributed to staff and patients alike.

‘Who's funding this?' I ask.

‘It seems that HB has very deep pockets,' remarks Carly, spying the man himself coming through the crowd. ‘I think I see a crate requiring delivery.' And she eases herself out of the way.

‘What is this?' I ask.

‘Penitence, maybe?' suggests Matt.

‘But you didn't do anything wrong, did you?'

‘I seriously misjudged her. I should have sent her away the moment she arrived but I thought I could protect you.'

‘You should have just told me.'

‘I know,' he says. ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘I'm sorry too.'

‘You have nothing to be sorry for,' Matt tells me.

‘I turned and fled like a coward. I didn't give you the opportunity to explain.'

‘You had far more important issues to deal with.'

‘I guess.'

‘How is he?'

‘He's still in surgery.'

‘I can offer you a cupcake.'

‘What flavours do you have?' I ask.

‘We have a few options,' admits Matt with a wry smile.

I feel my own lips starting to curl. He has a habit of making me do that and I am suddenly aware that being around him makes my spirit feel lighter. There is a chink in the darkness.

‘What do you suggest?'

‘Now there is a question. Let me think.'

How could I have suspected him of wickedness when his heart is so pure? I want to kiss him but just then I spy my mother coming out of the hospital and such thoughts are sidelined.

‘I have to go.'

‘I know,' he says. As I turn to leave, he squeezes my hand and a little more weight falls from my shoulders.

Chapter Thirteen – Cupcake Heaven

‘Do you trust me?' he asks.

‘Yes, I trust you,' I reply, watching his eyes as he places the silk scarf over my eyes and ties it securely so my world is now dark. It doesn't feel dark, though. My father is out of surgery without complications. The doctors feel positive about him making a full recovery. I feel the weight sliding from my shoulders.

Matt gathers me in his arms and lifts me onto the stainless steel worktop. The bakery is deserted. I came back because I knew he'd be here. Everything is tingling just like the first time that I saw him. The anticipation is sensational.

I feel his hands on the buttons of my shirt and I go to help, but his hands close on mine.

‘Trust me,' he whispers.

‘I do,' I whisper back.

Gently, he peels my shirt away. I feel the buttons of my jeans pop. Too many thoughts invade my brain. He unlaces my trainers and it takes all my self-will not to pull off the scarf and find his lips but I resist, just about. He slides my jeans off my hips, pulling them gently away.

And then something unusual occurs. Matt binds my left wrist with a cord. Then he slips the cord over my right wrist. I don't fight it but soon enough my arms are tied securely above my head as I lie on the worktop. He does the same with my ankles and the thought occurs that this is getting seriously kinky and my heart beats a little faster. Who knew I was into a little kink?

‘Now that I'm completely at your mercy, whatever do you intend doing with me?' I ask, as innocently as I can muster.

‘I'm going to do everything to you,' he murmurs, his voice so low and husky it reverberates through my soul and makes me ache for him. ‘The art to good baking is to always be prepared. So I have prepared my ingredients with care and now we are ready to begin.'

‘So what is on the menu tonight then, chef?' I ask, straining to hear him remove clothes – or is it just my imagination starting to get trippy?

‘You'll see,' murmurs Matt.

‘Hurry up,' I whisper. ‘I'm so hot for you right now and I don't think I can wait.'

I can feel the tell-tale moistness in my crotch as I start to imagine Matt parting my thighs and pressing himself into me.

‘Patience is a virtue,' he replies.

‘Apparently so,' I mutter.

‘First we must prepare the cooking area to ensure it is free from blemishes.'

The touch of his hands, the caress of them against my skin, makes me inhale involuntarily.

‘Easy,' he whispers.

‘That's easy for you to say,' I murmur. ‘You know what's coming and I wish it was me.'

He touches his lips to my mouth to stop further conversation. A hungry kiss that draws me in then leaves me breathless when he pulls away suddenly.

The chocolate is warm as it hits my stomach and cascades over my naked skin. I feel it pool in my bellybutton and can't help the giggles that escape. The chocolate splashes onto my breasts, still hidden beneath the silk of my bra, and now desperate to be free. My nipples are like lightning rods, hard to the touch and screaming for release. He must be able to see how hard they are and yet he does nothing to relieve my suffering. What kind of torture is this? The cocoa powder falls lightly on my skin but he does nothing more.

The chocolate is warm against my thong, soaking through the itsy-bitsy material until it is hot against my skin and my body starts to ignite as the sensations dance with my imagination and all that pent-up lust and wanting is ignited.

His tongue dances over my nipples so quickly and so softly that I barely react and then they are left crying out for more. His fingers tug my thong away and I arch my back to allow him ease of access. He pushes my legs further apart, revealing my sex in all of its natural glory to him, and the sensation of hot chocolate being poured onto my flushed skin causes me to cry out. His lips are hungry as they press against mine. His tongue licks away at the chocolate before burrowing deeper, pushing itself between my lips, breaking through the chocolaty barrier.

I gasp. He knows my body too well. He knows exactly what buttons to press, and when his fingers start to assist his tongue I have to bite my tongue to stop myself screaming the house down. This is too much. I can't hold out much longer.

‘Please, please untie me,' I beg, my voice hoarse with desire. ‘Let me see you. I need to touch you. I need …'

As if by magic, the bonds that once bound me are now loose. Ripping off the scarf, he stands before me, jeans unbuttoned, top off, ripe for fucking. Releasing my bra I let it fall to the floor as I swivel on the worktop, spreading my legs to wrap around him. He bends to meet me, our lips finding each other's with practised ease. I clamp my legs around him, and our kisses become more indulgent as the lightning strikes tearing a hole in the roof of the bakery. Manoeuvring my hands into his jeans, I find they are no barrier at all to a committed girl with lust on her mind. It is then that I spy the saucepan on the hob.

‘Don't move,' I whisper, taking a kiss with me for good measure as I trip lightly across the bakery floor. Matt watches as I retrieve the saucepan, knowing exactly what is on my mind. ‘Are you ready for this?' I ask, raising an eyebrow.

‘Be my guest,' he replies gallantly.

Hooking my fingers in the waistband of his shorts, I hold the saucepan at an angle and start to pour. Matt smiles as warm chocolate pours into his underwear, covering his crotch. Setting the saucepan down, I smile at him and proceed to peel his jeans and shorts away. He is hard and proud and covered in chocolate and tastes just about perfect as I kneel before him and slide his cock into my mouth. He tastes unbelievably good as I slide him further and further in, and as Matt pulls out the friction of his cock against my mouth is almost too much to bear for both of us.

I want more. I need more. I need him between my thighs and I need him there right now. I back him up against the worktop with his cock in my hand. We kiss, our bodies rubbing against each other, and then we slide until he is under me and his cock is in me. Straddling my lover in the middle of my bakery: what would the staff say? I know exactly what Carly would say.
You go, girl.
Yes, I'm going, Carly. I'm going straight to nirvana, riding Matt's cock into oblivion, and it feels …

Well, you can guess!