Page 58 of Feasting on Her Curves (Forbidden Fantasies)

PETRA

The flowers from Donovan were an unexpected joy. The delivery person walked right into the store, in front of everyone, and handed them to me. Luckily there weren’t a lot of customers, and Chad was in his office. I thanked the young man profusely, setting the vase down in the back.

Taking a picture, I sent it to Donovan to let him know I appreciated it. I also sent a text to Patrick because I knew that he was hurt over my decision to date his friends. I was trying to smooth things over with him. Leaving the party that evening, I knew he would hold a grudge. No one could stew over a perceived injustice like Patrick. Growing up, I’d had to be doubly careful not to anger him, or I would never live it down. It took him months to come back after I accidentally broke his game boy as a child. This was a much bigger deal, and I knew he was having a hard time wrapping his head around it.

Donovan sent me flowers, I wrote, captioning the picture. I thought that if he saw how well the guys were treating me, he might be relieved. Ostensibly he was worried about my safety and thought Donovan, Cory and Gavin would break my heart. Nothing could be further from the truth. I reasoned that by showing him how sweet and thoughtful they were, I could bring him around to my side.

He didn’t answer, though. He didn’t answer Wednesday or Thursday either when I sent him harmless little messages like Good morning and How are you? The longer Patrick went without communicating, the angrier I became. What was his problem? Couldn’t he see that my relationship with his friends was my business? It was all fine and good to be concerned about my feelings, but Patrick was definitely taking it too far.

Friday was my day off, and I woke at a more respectable six in the morning. It felt amazing to have that extra time, and even though I was up before most of the city, I still considered myself lucky.

I had a leisurely breakfast in my own kitchen and then went for a jog. A little bit out of practice, I only managed to get in two miles. Still, it was nice to be out and wandering around the city instead of cooped up in the bakery kitchen.

My encounter with Gavin was fresh in my mind. I couldn’t make a batch of muffins or roll out the pastry dough without remembering what had happened early Monday morning. It brought a blush to my cheeks every time and left the rest of the bakery staff wondering what I was thinking about.

Donovan had asked me out and our date was that night. I was looking forward to it like nobody’s business. After sending me those flowers, I was convinced that Donovan would be equally as tender as Gavin had been. I wondered if this was what Meara felt like at the very beginning of her relationships. Had her stomach tied itself in knots in anticipation?

With most of the day to kill, I scoured the internet for some fresh recipes. As a creative chef, I usually just took bits and pieces from other people’s work, using a new technique or adding a single ingredient to my batter. One particularly well-reviewed article talked about pairing bacon with chocolate. We hadn’t done that yet, and I was eager to try.

Deciding to go ahead, I walked down to the corner grocery store and purchased some pork bacon. Frying it up in my own kitchen, I made a quick batch of donuts and drizzled chocolate over the completed confection. It was delicious. I was definitely going to incorporate some form of sweet and salty treat into the bakery’s new menu.

The contractors had already been out to view the lobby. I talked to them about redoing the floors and painting the walls. We had a sign company to re-do the exterior, and I was looking through online catalogs for new furniture. It was all coming together quicker than I could have imagined. Even Chad was appeased when he saw the progress I had made.

I made myself some lunch and watched a movie on my couch. It was heaven, not having anyone to answer to. Overtime every week was good for my pocketbook, but I needed downtime as well.

After the movie was over, I went to my closet to find something to wear. Donovan wouldn’t be expecting me to dress up. I didn’t know where we were going, but he had seen me in my sweatpants enough times that I didn’t feel like I had to impress him. Still, something a little bit fancier than jeans and a T-shirt seemed to be in order.

I chose a simple dress and paired it with high heels. It wasn’t extravagant, but it wasn’t too shabby either. Donovan was an up-and-coming professional who wanted to be mayor someday. If we were going to be seen out in public together, I wanted to look nice.

At six o’clock on the dot, he texted me to say he had arrived. I went down to the lobby, anxious to get the evening started. I was anticipating a nice dinner and maybe drinks afterwards, but Donovan cut right to the chase.

“Would you like to come over to my apartment?” he asked.

“Sure,” I agreed. There was no reason to forestall the inevitable. I was eager to take our relationship to the next level and didn’t need to waste time and money postponing it.

Donovan lived downtown in one of the newer residences. I wasn’t surprised by how nice it was. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would put up with a substandard apartment. He took me all the way to the door, but then left me hanging.

“Wait here for a minute,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed, hanging out in the hallway like an interloper.

I clutched my purse, wondering what he was doing. He had ample time to get the place cleaned up, so I knew it wasn’t that. When he finally returned and let me inside, I saw immediately what he had been up to. The door opened up into an expansive living room, with a set of white couches and a massive entertainment system. There wasn’t a big bank of windows the way there was at Patrick’s place, but a few well-placed lamps gave the place a healthy glow.

Through an arched opening, a dining room table made of glass boasted a pizza box and a dozen long-stemmed candles. Donovan had lit them all, creating an atmosphere of romance and seduction that even the best restaurant couldn’t match.

A bottle of wine sat open next to the pizza box, and my host poured me a glass. I gave him a flirtatious look before accepting what he had to offer. Taking a small sip, I was pleased to discover that it was a full-bodied red. The man knew what to pair with pizza, that was for sure.

“Would you like to sit down?” He held out a chair for me.

“Thank you,” I approved, taking a seat.

Donovan chose the adjoining one, opening the box and selecting a slice. He set it on a plate in front of me before helping himself to another one. I picked up the greasy triangle, deciding to be provocative, the way I had been with Gavin.

“Open up,” I said, holding it out for Donovan to bite.

He grinned, doing as he was told. His mouth closed around the slice, and I watched as he pulled away, chewing slowly. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry for pizza. I eased forward to the edge of my chair, setting the food down.

Donovan rose to his feet, holding his hands out to me. I took them, allowing him to pull me up next to him. He picked up his own slice and fed it to me, his eyes challenging me to accept. I took a small bite, tasting the gooey cheese with its layers of sauce and bread. I couldn’t swallow it fast enough because that was the end of our meal.

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