Page 7 of Icing on the Cake

That’s me, losing my mind and shifting into high gear while Beau has his hand ready to pop the emergency brake.

“I need to stay until Tom and Grace head out.” His brow wrinkles, and creases feather from the corners of his dark eyes. “Groomsman duty calls.”

I get it. He’s bound by his bridal party duties and friends, and I’m way out of line professionally. I drop my hands from his waist and step away, disappointed in myself for the unrealistic fantasy of Beau sweeping me off my feet. I could never seduce a man like him, someone so confident and poised. He’s too much of a gentleman to fall for a silly woman like me.

“It was a bad idea anyway.” I look away from his serious eyes and fold my apron on autopilot. “I’ve got a big day to prepare for. You go have fun. Give Grace and Tom my best.”

“The hell I will. I’m not tempting fate for a second time.” Beau snatches the apron from my hands and tosses it onto a pile of plastic bins. “I sure as hell don’t want to see the look in Grace’s eyes if I walk out of this kitchen alone. She’ll blame me for cursing her wedding if I don’t dance with the woman who saved her wedding cake from disaster.”

I chuckle at Beau’s overactive imagination. He’s good—good enough to make me think there might be something more between us than a couple of heart-attack-inducing kisses. I take his hand with a chuckle, risking my heart to a man I hardly know.

We enter the reception hall as “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” by Elton John begins playing through the overhead speakers. I roll my eyes and glance up at Beau. Fate has a funny way of inserting itself at the oddest times.

“Don’t–”

“I couldn’t if I tried.” Beau interrupts as if on cue. He lip-syncs the words to the song, and my lady parts swoon. He squeezes my hand and leads me to the dancefloor with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Could the man be more perfect?

CHAPTER 5

***

Eisley

Beau swings me around the dance floor with the ease of a trained dancer. I’m not as savvy on my toes as he is, but I manage to keep up. He peppers my forehead with kisses when we slow dance and keeps me laughing when the obligatory chicken dance begins to play. I’m breathless and head over heels in...love, lust, or something in between.

“I’m curious. Why haven’t I met you before now?” Beau asks as we leave the dance floor for a quick thirst quencher. “I know most of the local restaurant owners around town. But you, you’re a conundrum.”

“A conundrum?” I take a sip of pale pink punch, enjoying the watermelon and lime bite as it goes down. “What about you? Do you keep tabs on everyone in town? You did quite a bit of schmoozing at the holiday party.”

Beau smirks. It’s a handsome, boyish grin with dimples in all the right places. It should be against the law for anyone to look as sexy and charming as he does. I’d bet there are a dozen or more women in this room salivating over him right now.

A twinge of reckless satisfaction settles in the pit of my stomach. No matter how many women have their eyes on him, his eyes are on me. His attention boosts my confidence. I usually have to remind myself to be bold or funny, but it comes so easily with Beau. All my thinking is focused on him–and that sexy mouth of his.

“I like to keep my thumb on the pulse of the community, especially when things impact local restaurants.” Beau focuses on my eyes, nose, and mouth to the point my skin tingles.

“So, you’re a politician?” He certainly has a knack for turning on the charm and working a crowd. I bet he’s kissed a few babies, too.

“Hell, no.” Beau shakes his head emphatically. “But I stay up to speed on new trends and changes in government policies concerning food and restaurants. I own Sapphire Bakehouse in the heart of downtown.”

My heart pinches. Beau feels the pressure of City Hall, too. As if he couldn’t get any better. “You’re a chef?”

“Please join Tom and Grace for one last dance before they ride off into the sunset,” the deejay announces. “Save the Last Dance for Me,” by Michael Bublé, begins to play.

“I am. I’ve got an idea.” Beau takes my glass and sets it aside before taking my hand. “Let’s dance. I’ll see Tom and Grace off, and then we can geek out on foodie talk over coffee afterward.”

“Ooh. I love it when you talk nerdy to me.” I giggle as we step onto the dance floor.

“I’m a man of action, Eisley.” Beau’s eyes darken, sending my tummy into a full-blown butterfly-fest. He pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead, whispering so low only I can hear. “If you’d rather skip right to dirty, I’m happy to oblige.”

***

Beau

The wedding planner taps my shoulder midway through the last dance of the night. She clings to her clipboard, her face pale and stricken. Eisley and I stop dancing as we’re pulled to the edge of the dance floor.

“We have a problem.” Her lips tighten into a knot, and her nostrils flare as she takes a deep breath. “The limo driver just arrived, and he’s–” She looks side to side before dipping her head and leaning close to my ear. “He’s drunk. I need a driver.”

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