Page 19 of Between Love and Loathing
She pulled out a thick bowl that I saw her practically glare at.
“Something wrong with that too?”
“I requested red bowls.”
Also noted. “Could have been here to stop that order had you not been catering to your boyfriend’s need to have you at his hockey game.” She wanted to bicker about a damn dish, I’d meet her at her level.
No one fought me head-on anymore but she was ready as she slammed down the bowl. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend. Ever had a friend that’s a girl?”
I let my eyes rake over her body, making sure she caught me. “He’d fuck you if you gave him the chance.”
“Oh, he does when I do.” Her smile was saccharine as she shrugged. “Still doesn’t make him my boyfriend.”
I felt it like a gut punch.Fuck. One point for her.
The tightening in my stomach was only due to the fact that I didn’t actually like the desserts that I could smell everywhere, right? It definitely wasn’t because hearing that Clara and Noah truly were fucking around pissed me off. I didn’t get jealous about women anymore, and I definitely didn’t get jealous over women I didn’t even like.
“If you’re fucking around with a guy, he’s more than a friend.”
“Really?” she countered. “So, when you sleep with women—”
“I don’t stay over. I don’t even fall asleep in their bed for a minute.” I hadn’t in years, not that it was her business, but a point needed to be made. “I tell them I’m fucking them, Ms. Milton, and that’s it. I don’t go to their games or wear their jerseys or end up in magazines with them. I make my intentions clear.”
“As do I,” she threw back. “Noah and I have always been very clear about the expectations. He’s great that way.”
“He’s a fuckboy who has women circling him twenty-four seven. You should be careful with the men you’re—”
“Mr. Hardy.” She tsked. “Weare colleagues. Not friends. I don’t need your advice on anything but what you want in the bakery, and even that’s mostly unwarranted.”
I chuckled. Damn, she was something when she got a little alcohol in her. “Fine. You like reds and pinks and every color on the planet. Rita and I don’t.”
“You’re depriving me of my dream.” She said it with passion, and her eyes shined, like there was emotion behind them.
I actually contemplated soothing her. I took a deep breath. “Want me to change the bowls then?” Her gaze whipped to mine as she dropped the bowl into another saucepan and turned the stove way down. Her eyes shone with questions, curiosity, and hope. Why had I said that?
“Don’t offer that unless you mean it, Dominic,” she whispered, all joking aside as she murmured my first name this time. I loved hearing it across her lips.
“I don’t normally say anything I don’t mean.”
We stared at one another for far too long as she stirred without looking. Then, she glanced down before grumbling, “Good luck telling Rita.”
“Are you aware I’m her boss? You think she’s going to have a problem with my request?” I smirked and Clara glanced up with a small smile, then she chuckled.
“I mean, probably.” Another giggle bubbled up, and then she was laughing as she grabbed another cooking utensil and spun the butter round and round, adding in the cacao and sugar. Effortlessly, she salted the concoction and then dribbled in a few drops of an oil. “It’s her bakery after all.”
She admitted the last part with a sigh, letting her laugh die, and I couldn't stop myself from taking in the woman before me. Curves for days, dressed in heels and a cream dress full of flowers. She continued to drop in flavors even as I moved closer to dip a finger into the warm liquid that had turned to silk and caught her frowning. “What?”
“I just can’t get over seeing you indulge in any of this, especially melted chocolate that needs to go into the cupcakes, when you never stop by the bakery,ever.”
She didn’t know me. She had no idea how much I would indulge in a vice, no idea about my ex, and how that led me to make fatal errors by doing so in the past. “Clara, I indulge when it’s worth it to do so.”
I found it harder and harder to hold back now as her cheeks pinkened under my scrutiny. The woman caught innuendo fast because her mind was probably exactly where mine was.
“Well, my chocolate is finally worth it, then? As opposed to all the years you passed by my bakery back home?”
“In my defense, now I need to know what will be in my resort.”
She hummed and then murmured, “A touch of salt with three drops of lavender and sprinkling of cinnamon mixed with nutmeg is key. I add more some days and less others dependent on my mood.”
