Page 6 of Icing on the Cake

What bakery was lucky enough to find Eisley and snatch her up. It’s as if she came from out of nowhere. But she must be local and at least invested in one of the local eateries. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have attended the holiday party for small businesses. Is she related to someone local? A niece, sister, cousin?

I stride toward her with a dozen questions running through my head. Several members of the catering staff recognize me, but I quickly raise a finger to my lips, dissuading them from revealing my presence. I approach Eisley from behind, enjoying the view. She’s shapely and soft, curvy in all the places a man...I...can hold onto.

I reach around her as she’s spraying the last soap bubbles from the sides of the wash basin and down the drain. Her body heat seeps through my shirt into my pores. I drag in a deep breath, memorizing the way she smells. Peonies and roses, just like Grace’s bouquet.

“Look what I caught.” I hover over her shoulder and dangle the lace garter over the sink, catching her off guard.

She jumps with a start and turns toward me, hosing me down with the water sprayer in hand. Her eyes widen in surprise as I spring backward. She releases the trigger and clasps her hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle. My plan to surprise her didn’t turn out like I’d planned, but mishaps are par for the course today.

“You don’t expect me to slip that on, do you?” She eyes the garter while handing me a towel, lighting the room up with her hundred-watt smile.

A sense of humor to boot.

“Not yet,” I playfully tease, wiping the beaded water droplets from my tuxedo. Eisley’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “You caught the bouquet. I caught the garter. Tradition calls for a shared dance.”

“That so?” She grabs another towel and dries her hands. “At the rate we’re going with mishaps, I’m afraid of what havoc we’ll cause on the dance floor.”

“We’ll take things nice and slow. No chance of causing a scene.” Though, I’m not as confident as I’d like to be. If Tom and Grace caught on to the energy between Eisley and me, no doubt others have, too.

“I’m keeping you at your word, Beau.” Her lips form a perfect “O” as she says my name. All I can think about is the kiss we shared and the desire churning in my blood to do it again. Here and now.

Eisley smirks and reaches behind her back to loosen the bow on her apron. She tugs and tugs again until her brow furrows. She’s stuck and right where I want her, in my arms and at my mercy.

“Allow me?” I take a step closer and wrap my arms around her waist. My palms slide over her hands as she picks at the knotted apron strings. “It seems you’ve tied a knot.”

Eisley stares up at me. The overhead lights catch flecks of green and gold in her hazel eyes, causing them to sparkle. Her hands drop to her sides, and she leans into me with her chest as I slowly loosen the knot behind her back. She lowers her gaze to my lips as I hover over her with an unsteady beat thrumming in my chest. I pull her closer with a gentle tug as the apron strings fall from her waist.

I dip my head on the brink of kissing her but pause briefly for any indication I’m coming on too strong, too fast. Eisley holds my gaze, unflinching. She lifts her chin, giving me full access to her plump, rosy lips. Her eyes flutter on the brink of closing when my lips brush across hers.

If I had any lingering uncertainty about our first electrifying kiss, that doubt is shattered. Kissing Eisley again changes everything I thought I knew about love. It’s breathtaking and fragile, and I’ll do everything I can to keep kissing her for the rest of my life.

***

Eisley

Nervous jitters and second thoughts tumble around inside me as I stand trembling beneath Beau’s hulking mass. My hands shake as his lips grow ever closer. The warmth of our mingling breath heats my cheeks, yet I shiver in anticipation. This is the moment I’ve dreamed about and longed for.

Beau’s lips graze mine, and every nerve ending in my body buzzes. My skin puckers and prickles as goosebumps skitter up my spine and to my extremities. My pulse races, flooding my brain with more endorphins than I can comprehend. The thunderous beat of my heart silences the clattering dishes and chattering conversation around us, allowing me to focus on nothing but Beau and his beautiful, succulent lips. For one solitary moment, with chaos and white noise surrounding us, nothing else exists except Beau and his toe-curling kiss.

He’s perfect. Life is perfect. We’re perfect together.

Beau parts my lips with the tip of his tongue, and another explosive round of fireworks booms against my chest. I taste him for the first time, and he’s the elixir my soul craves, healing every heartbreak and self-doubt I’ve ever endured, even if it is for a brief moment.

I draw my fingertips upward, needing something to hold onto before I float away. My fingertips slide over his damp shirt beneath his tuxedo jacket. He pulls me closer until my chest presses firmly against his.

When he releases my lips, I’m breathless, panting for more. My lashes flutter open, though I’m far from ready to return to reality or the chance this will be our last kiss.

“If you dance half as amazing as you kiss, I might embarrass myself out there.” Beau shifts his stance, still clutching me close to his body.

It isn’t until now that I realize he’s hard and steely against my belly. His cheeks flush with heat, but he isn’t the only one on the precipice of embarrassment. Arousal pools between my legs, dampening my panties. Who knew a solitary kiss could have such a profound effect on me? If we were alone, I don’t know that I’d stop myself from climbing Beau like a tree.

“We could skip the dance.” I’m breathless and raspy, uninterested in anything that doesn’t require Beau’s lips on mine. “I’m almost done here.”

Geez. Did I just proposition Beau in a kitchen full of people? While I’m on the clock at that.

I must be delusional. I’m not sure where my bravado comes from. It isn’t my nature to be so bold. Nor am I one to think with my libido rather than my brain. But this, whatever this is between us, feels too perfect to not act on impulse. My gut instinct begs me for another taste.

Beau loosens his grip on my hips. His fingertips glide up my back and stop at the apron loop around my neck. He pulls the strap over my head, careful to not mess up my tight bun. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach when he places a sweet kiss on my forehead. Our kiss may have gotten a rise out of Beau, but he’s hitting the brakes faster than a driver's ed teacher with a speed demon teenager behind the wheel.

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