Page 73 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
It was finally time for the bake-off. The contestants lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of the judges’ table, everyone on edge as the first tastes were taken. I glanced over at Kitty just as the judges cut into her cheesecake. How did I know it was hers? It was the only cheesecake submitted. Her smug, condescending smile made my fingers twitch, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean off her face. When they reached my pie, I held my breath. One judge lifted a forkful, and the rest followed. The moment their eyes lit up after the first bite, a grin spread across my face. The four judges took another bite, something they hadn’t done with the other baked goods. Let Kitty Corners smirk all she wanted because my pie was speaking louder than her store-bought cheesecake ever could.
Once the judges were finished tasting, they quietly conversed amongst themselves while we all nervously waited for their decision.
“We want to thank everyone for participating in this year’s bake-off. All the desserts were truly wonderful,” the school’s principal said. “But according to the judges, there was one that truly stood out among the rest. The best of the best, so to speak. Without further ado, this year’s bake-off winner is number 10—Charlotte Campbell’s apple pie with a twist. Although we aren’t sure what the twist is, we don’t care. It’s that darn good.”
Everyone clapped, and Eloise threw her arms around my legs.
“I knew you would win.”
Kitty’s glare burned through me from across the gymnasium. Without a word, she turned on her heels, collected her daughter, and stomped out of the school.
“Congratulations.” Ashton smiled, gripping my shoulders. “I had no doubt you’d win.”
“Thank you.” I grinned.
After saying goodbye to Eloise, who was going off with Ashton’s mother and Raphael for the night, I gathered my things and we headed home.
“Let’s celebrate your win tonight with a nice dinner at Daniel,” Ashton said.
“That sounds nice.” I smiled.
With Eloise being gone overnight and the entire day tomorrow, it would give Ashton and me a chance to really talk and spend some time together alone. The thought excited me even though I had no idea where our relationship was going. Baking in his kitchen felt like home. He felt like home. Our entire situation made everything feel like home. I wasn’t playing house. This was the real deal for me. Feelings I’d never felt consumed me daily, and when I looked into my future, all I saw was Ashton, Eloise, and a lifetime of happiness.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ashton
We never made it to dinner.
My fingertips traced her torso, feeling each goosebump that rose in their wake. Her thighs tensed against my shoulders, fingers tangled through my hair, as I devoured her until she orgasmed. When I finally thrust into her, our time narrowed to just this, her nails digging into my back, the meshing of our skin, and the way she whispered my name as if she was telling a secret. I took her every which way I could—front, back, sideways, until I exploded inside her. After, I collapsed beside her, my pulse pounding in my ears and my lungs struggling for air. I turned my head and looked at her as she rolled on her side, staring at me with a smile that always brightened my days.
“Are you okay?” I smirked.
“I’m wonderful.” A smile crossed her lips as her fingers traced patterns across my chest.
Her touch was both comforting and terrifying. I placed my arm behind my head and stared up at the ceiling.
“You’re thinking too loud.” Her lips pressed against my shoulder.
“I’m just processing.”
She lifted her head and stared at me as if she were searching for my soul. “Processing what?”
Her question hung between us like a challenge. If only I could deflect, make a joke, or shut down completely like I’d done countless times before with numerous women. But Charlotte wasn’t like the others. That was the problem.
“Just work stuff. I have an important meeting on Monday to strike a multi-million-dollar deal.”
“You’ll pull it off.” She smiled.
“Maybe.” I sighed, hooking my arm around her.
This was supposed to be simple. Uncomplicated. But somewhere between our first kiss and this moment, all the lines had blurred, and I was afraid there was no coming back.
A nightmare had me in its grip. I was a child, around eight or nine years old, and my parents were arguing. Glasses being thrown were the norm, and with each crash, I flinched. The shouting, name-calling, and my mother’s cries. I never wanted to relive those days, but here I was, trapped in this stupid nightmare, unable to wake up, no matter how hard I tried.
“Ashton. Ashton, wake up,” I heard Charlotte’s voice in the distance.
My eyes flew open as she hovered over me. “You were having a nightmare,” she said.
