Page 1 of Sweet Fantasies

ANNA

Weddings suck. Okay, maybe not all weddings. Just this one. It’s been a disaster from the get-go. The bride and groom are currently screaming at each other and holed up in some part of this massive wedding site. The caterer is making my life hell by refusing to let me work in ‘his’ kitchen.

As if, asshole. It’s not your kitchen. It’s the wedding venue’s. But that doesn’t seem to stop the illustrious Ryan Barker from pushing me right the hell out and telling me that his staff doesn’t need my distractions right now.

Hello? I’ve got to deal with my own disasters, asshole! Like how the hell am I going to recoup the cost of this job if I don’t get the publicity from this wedding.

This is the biggest job I’ve ever been involved in and I need the publicity from it. Wildwood’s a small town on the edge of a mountain and there’s not a lot of free publicity around here for a burgeoning business. This was supposed to be my big break.

Maximillian Van Devere marrying the way younger starlet who was taking Hollywood by storm is the wedding of the year. It was a coup when she decided to have the wedding in Wildwood. Nobody knows exactly why but I have my suspicions.

Apparently so does the groom since he’s currently losing his shit all over their hotel room.

Not that she cheated on him or anything. Or at least that’s what I hear. She’s just in love with another man. That tends to sour your groom on the whole ‘we’re getting married today’ theme. And god knows that Maximillian has enough money to throw around to make his problems go away.

Including his fiancee if need be. Another door slams in the eerie quiet of the rest of the venue. The hotel is set off from the huge, lavish building where the rest of the party will be.

Or won’t be at this point. Who the hell knows? All I know is that I need this gig and it’s disappearing through my fingers like water.

I slam my way back into the kitchen and immediately the asshole of the day turns around, his gorgeous face with the day’s growth of scruff on it just perfect enough that my belly squeezes tight, my pussy clenching.

I grimace. I definitely don’t need the reminder that the man is gorgeous. His caramel brown hair is perfectly-styled under his chef’s hat and his big body is tall, lean and defiantly-muscled. His arms are crossed over a broad chest that strains his chef’s coat to the max. His sleeves are pushed up showing off ropes of strong muscles and tendons flexing in the tanned skin bared to my extremely jaded gaze. His aqua-blue eyes are cold and dead inside. Just like his fucking heart.

I honestly don’t know why he’s working weddings when he obviously can’t stand them.

But that’s not my problem. My problem is the cake that’s currently sitting out in the middle of the hot kitchen wilting under the heat and lights.

“Hey, dick! I don’t give a fuck who you are! That cake needs to be in the cooler!”

He shoots me a narrow-eyed glare. “It’s full right now.”

I stomp up to him and shove a finger in his chest, almost wilting when he lifts one perfect golden brow at me. “That isn’t my problem. But it’s gonna be yours in a minute cause I’m gonna walk in there and start throwing shit out to make room in a minute.”

His full lip curls and he glares at me. “You and what army, little brat!”

That’s torn it! Who the fuck is this guy?

“That is it, asshole! Why the hell are you working weddings if you just want to trash them? You can’t leave the wedding cake sitting out in a hot kitchen! It needs to be chilled until serving and I’m not letting you ruin a solid month of work!”

I stomp past him but my steps falter when he grumbles, “That’s a month of work?”

Oh no…he did not! I don’t turn around though. I pull the huge, heavy door open on the massive walk-in cooler and slip inside, my eyes scanning the huge room.

Just as I thought. There’s plenty of space for my cake. I don’t know why the man’s trying to sabotage me but it’s gonna stop right the hell now.

I slam the door back open and pull the heavy cart into the cool space, putting it back in a corner where it should hopefully be out of the way. The door slams shut behind me and it takes me a moment to realize that I’m not alone.

“You need to get out of here.”

I whip around and glare at him. “And you need a lobotomy. What’s your point?”

He sucks in a heavy breath and it feels like the room shrinks. “You know….you’ve got a smart mouth on you. Somebody should stick something in it to keep you from running off at the mouth.”

I lift my shoulders and chuckle. “You and what army!”

He nods decisively. “I don’t need an army to take care of you, little hellion.”

And before I can figure out what exactly he means, he’s stomping closer and his big hands grasp my shoulders. My mouth falls open as I’m sure that he intends to yank me to the door and shove me right out.

---