Page 20 of Flirting with the Stranger

“How come I get the pink one while you get the blue?” I tie my apron around my waist.

“Blue is more my color.” She pulls out a couple of mixing bowls and measuring cups and measures ingredients.

“That’s cool. I’m comfortable enough with my masculinity to wear pink. I look good in anything. But even better in nothing.” I toss a wink in her direction. Moving to stand next to her in front of the worktable, I bend down and whisper in her ear. “The pink in your cheeks most definitely looks good on you.”

“Well, aren’t you the charmer? Here, stir this.” She shoves a bowl and a spoon at my chest.

“Have I ever told you I like it when you get all demanding?”

She smirks. “No.”

“Well, I do. More so when we’re naked.”

She stands up straight and squares her shoulders. “You may have charmed my panties off once, but you’ll need to try a lot harder than that if you want to do it again.”

“Is that a challenge, cupcake?” Bending down, I whisper against the shell of her ear, “Because I like a challenge.”

The corners of her lips tip up into a smile. “Keep stirring.”

We spend the next hour working side by side. She’s telling me what to do and I’m enjoying every second of it. Mostly because I love listening to her sweet voice. Once we’ve mixed all the batter and poured it into cupcake liners, we put them in the oven.

“We have about thirty minutes until the cupcakes are done. And then we have about another thirty minutes to let them cool.” She sets the timer and places it down on the table.

“I can think of a few things we can do to kill the time.” I grip her waist and pull her toward me.

“Is that so? Would it happen to involve long, smooth strokes?”

I tip my head toward the ceiling and groan. “Fuck. Are you reading my mind?”

When I glance back down, she’s biting her lower lip. Bright hazel eyes stare back at me and she nods her head. She reaches around me, and I get a whiff of her sweet vanilla scent. My dick twitches, remembering the last time I was with her.

“Good. Because the frosting won’t make itself.” She shoves a spatula in my hand.

I bark out a laugh and grip the spatula. “Oh, I see what you did there. I’m a patient man. For you, I’ll wait even longer.”

“That’s good, because once these are done, we have another two dozen to make.” She gives me a wink.

Two hours later, we are wrapping the last batch of cupcakes to be frosted tomorrow. Even though I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing, we work perfectly together. Having Hollyn there to guide me step by step made everything so much easier. Not to mention, I loved stealing glances her way, taking every opportunity to touch her, even if it was a slight graze. After thinking my time with her would only be for a night, I want to savor every second I get with her right now.

“I’m so tired.” When I turn around, she’s tossing a towel onto the table, resting a hip against the edge. “But you did really great. I think you’re getting the hang of everything.”

I grab a towel and dry my hands from washing the dishes, then move to stand in front of her. “Thanks. You make it worth trying.”

“Your mom would have loved to make those cupcakes. She always had a knack for creating fun and whimsical decorations.” A somber expression covers her face.

I place my finger under her chin and force her to meet my eyes. The small contact sends a jolt of electricity through my finger, traveling all the way to my toes. “She would have been proud of what you came up with.”

My gaze travels from her eyes to her mouth, where a small smile graces her lips. I linger there, wanting to press my lips to her pillowy soft ones. To taste her sugary sweet lips once again. Instead of talking myself out of it, I make the move. I bend down and press my lips to hers. She’s exactly as I remember, but I keep the kiss short and pull away. Her expression is unreadable. Shit. She didn’t like the kiss.

“Sorry. That was a mistake,” I blurt out.

She casts her gaze downward, digesting my words. “What do you say we call it a day and get out of here?”

I flash her my signature dazzling smile, wanting to remove the awkward tension floating between us and replace it with the fun and flirty Van. “Where are we going? Your place or mine?”

Hollyn playfully slaps my chest, but before she can pull away, I capture her hand in mine, holding it against my body. Her hazel eyes glance up to meet my brown ones. Without fail, the sexual tension once again crackles between us like a freshly lit fire, waiting to engulf us all.

“You go to yours. I’ll go to mine.” And she pulls the pin on the figurative fire extinguisher.

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