Page 104 of Hard Rock Desires
“I love you, Grace,” he said. “I’ll tell you a hundred times if you need me to.”
“Maybe just one more time?” I asked.
He tipped my chin up and gave me a brilliant smile.
“I love you.”
Epilogue - Grace
“This isn’t so hard,” Zain said. “I think we’re actually going to pull this off.”
“It’s not hard because it’s literally a recipe for children,” I laughed.
After many failed attempts at croissants, cannelés, and brioche, Zain and I had decided to make a Lemon Yogurt Cake for the bake-off. I’d done the research and Yogurt Cake was considered one of the easiest recipes to follow. Apparently it was also one of the first things kids attempted to make when learning to bake in France. We were taking it up a notch by adding lemon.
“You’re getting the cake batter everywhere,” Zain said as he bopped me on the nose with a flour-dusted finger.
“We’re not starting another sexy food fight,” I warned him. “Especially not in the middle of class.” I bumped his hip with mine. “Go make yourself useful and grease the round cake pan. I’m just about done with this batter.”
We’d done a few practice runs and each time the cake had turned out not completely awful, so we figured it was our best shot at not embarrassing ourselves in front of the rest of the students and their guests.
Thegueststhing had been a surprise. During one of our last classes, our instructor had announced we could invite friends and family to join us near the end of the bake-off to give them an opportunity for them to taste our freshly-baked treats.
“Pan is greased,” Zain announced proudly. “I’m going to start on the glaze next.” He measured out the confectioners’ sugar in a cup, then hummed at it thoughtfully as he dumped it into a bowl. “You know, there are about a dozen other ways to use glaze that’s not drizzling it over a cake.”
“Each and every one of those ideas are dirty in some way, aren’t they?” I asked.
“I’m just thinking, it’s all sticky and sweet, it would be kind of fun to pour it all over you and lick—”
I slapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes twinkled with wicked mischief.
“Not in front of the class,” I admonished. “Save those thoughts for later.”
“Later, hm?” he said, muffled under my hand. “Is that a promise?”
“You’re terrible.” I turned my back to start pouring the batter before he could catch me smiling. I didn’t want to encourage him. Zain was bad enough to begin with. “Go squeeze the lemon juice.”
“There’s something else I’d rather squeeze,” he teased, running a hand from between my shoulders to the small of my back, stopping just shy of indecency.
I tried not to squirm, not wanting to let him know his touch was getting me hot. Everything this man did got me hot. Hotness was inherent to Zain Weston.
“At least wait until the cake is in the oven before you start getting handsy with me,” I told him.
“Then we’d better stick it in there, because my self-control is limited,” he replied.
“You really just saidstick it in there, didn’t you?” I shook my head with an exasperated laugh as I opened the pre-heated oven and put the cake on the rack. “You’re the worst.”
“But you love me anyway,” he said with a grin.
I returned his smile. “Yes, for some crazy reason, I do.”
“Eyes on the prize, Weston!” Finn called out as he appeared in the doorway to the classroom. “The cake’s going to burn if you spend all your time hitting on your girl!”
“It’s only been in there a minute!” Zain shot back. “And what do you know about baking, anyway?”
Hushed murmurs gave way to excitable chatter as the band members ofUntil We Breakstrode into the classroom. Even if not everyone knew all the other members of the band, Anya was instantly recognizable as the lead singer.
“Are we late?” Kaylee asked cheerfully. Dropped jaws and stunned expressions were on every face, but the band either didn’t notice, or were politely pretending not to.
