Page 67 of Go Cook Yourself

But a flustered Ruby jumps off my lap, falling and nearly faceplanting until I catch her.

“Amber is on her way,” she screams before running to the window, staring out as if Amber will be glaring at her from the car park like a deranged nineties serial killer. “The snow has gone.” I should have realised the heavy rain would melt it, but I was cocooned in our perfect hideaway. “You need to go.”

“You wouldn’t speak to Mary Berry like that,” I say with a wink.

“Garett,” she warns. With her hands on her hips, she appears livid. To me, she looks cute and fuckable.

“Will she be more angry that we slept together or that we used her secret condom stash?”

“Garett!” She scowls. “Get upstairs.”

We can’t let anyone see, especially Ruby’s family, but she’s captured me with her sensuality and kindness.

I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She squeals but doesn’t struggle. “Fine, but you’re coming, too.”

“But—”

“Sweet cheeks,” I say with a quick spank of her arse. My cock judders. I’m going to do that again, especially now that we’re fuck buddies. “I’ll need my shirt, as all I’m wearing are my boxers, so you’re coming with me.”

I catch her reflection in the window. Her body is glorious, and I know exactly which parts of it can elicit noises and which parts make her writhe. I can’t wait to find out how we seal our fuckbuddies deal. I’m hoping it involves me inside her or her on my face.

I spank her again.

“Garett,” she shouts as my laughter echoes around the cookery school.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ruby

Garett and I haven’t spoken since I chucked him out of the cookery school yesterday in case my sister found us. I snicker to myself as I remember how he Googled rules for fuck buddies while face-planting on the sofa bed, his jeans around his ankles, all while I shouted, “We haven’t got time!”

While dressing, we disagreed with most of the ones we found online and decided on five for us.

1)To remain professional at work no matter how horny we are

2)No dates, just hookups

3)Not to tell anyone about what we’re doing

4)Never text unless it’s to do with work or arranging a hookup

5)No staying overnight at each other’s houses

This is why we haven’t spoken. Now it’s Monday early evening, and we’re baking mince pies and doing the last bits of preparation for the cookery school before the mulled wine and wreath making workshop.

I catch sight of Garett in the glass of the cookery school door. He’s wearing a Christmas shirt, as per instructions. I’min thigh-high boots and a red woolly dress with white reindeer silhouettes. It clings to every curve. It’s not full-on Mrs. Christmas, but it’s much sexier than I’d typically wear. His eyes nearly jump out of his head when he sees me, but then he nods with his furrowed brow. He doesn’t offer me a hello. His body is stiff and his face blank. I manage not to stomp my feet in annoyance.

“Where do you want me?” he asks Kath brusquely, although his wincing gaze keeps drifting my way as I struggle with the streamers.

I climb on the chair to hang the decorations above the dining table. This is a job for Wicksy, but he’s too busy flirting with Flora, who’s leading the wreath making session. It’s like she’s taken courses in every skill, including flower arranging.

“Please help Ruby with the streamers. She’s going to hurt herself,” Kath replies as she gets the trays out for the mince pies.

“Ruby?” Garett looks around the room with his arms in the air, moving his head from side to side as if he doesn’t know where I am. “Oh, there you are,” he announces loudly. “I didn’t realise you were already here.”

“It’s not like I’m hiding,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. “And you’ve already nodded to me.”

He clears his throat noisily. “I don’t know what you mean. It’s nice to see you again after the last cookery day.” He clears his throat again and grinds his teeth. “Did you get home okay before it snowed on Saturday?”