Page 41 of Whisking It All

He grunted, his eyes dropping to her mouth and then back to meet her gaze.

“I thought,” she said, her voice soft, barely audible above the breeze coming off the water, and she scooted closer to him, “we could be friends.”

“Friends,” he repeated, shaking his head, though there was no joy in his chuckle. “I don’t want to be friends with you, Tessa.”

Her heart sank. “Oh.”

“I don’t feel very friendly when I look at you,” he continued, his voice rough in ways that did delicious things to her insides.

She reached for his beer bottle again, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against hers as the glass slid into her grasp. She took another long pull, nearly draining the bottle. He tracked each movement, his eyes darting over her face, her throat.

He took the bottle back from her, and downed the last sip, setting the bottle aside. When he turned back to her, the lust in his eyes was deep enough to drown in. She reached up with one hand and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. He caught her wrist, his eyes growing darker as his hand curled around her wrist, fingertips digging into her skin. But he didn’t push her away. He just held her there, as though he could freeze time.

She leaned closer and tentatively brushed her lips against his. He sucked in a breath and there was a fraction of a moment where he was frozen against her, but then he released her wrist and slid his hands into her hair as he kissed her back, deepening the kiss. She gripped his forearm, holding his hand in her hair with one hand, and slid her other around his waist, using the leverage to pull herself closer to him. He tasted like beer and orange and smelled of cedar and soap. She moaned against his kiss as he licked into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers.

Jamie wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her into his lap, her legs closing around his waist as he continued to kiss her, the hand buried in her hair tightening just enough to send gentle sparks across her scalp. For the first time since she’d set foot in Aster Bay, she felt like someone really wanted her, not the memory of the child she’d been, but her, the woman she’d become. She rocked against the hard length of him and dug her nails into his back. He pulled away, wild eyes searching hers, before he leaned his forehead against her.

“You’re my best friend’s daughter,” he said, the words harsh, like they’d been ripped from his body. And yet he still rocked against her, torturing them both with the friction.

Her breathing was labored, their chests pressed together as each breath moved them closer. She wasn’t ready for the moment to be over.

“We could pretend I’m not,” she said.

He brushed his lips against hers, softly. “I can’t pretend. And I can’t be your friend. Not if I’m still going to be his after you leave.”

“Then what are we?”

He brushed her hair behind her ear and let his hand fall away, meeting her gaze with pained eyes. “Just two people who happen to be working together.” She raked her fingers through his hair, brushing the longer strands that had been caught by the wind out of his face, and he closed his eyes like he was savoring her touch. His voice shook when he said, “You should go.”

“Jamie—”

“I’m hanging on by a threat here, Tessa. Please go.”

His voice was so raw, so broken, and she knew she’d done that to him. Shame flooded her veins.

She got to her feet on shaky legs and left him on the roof, staring out at the water, the same way she’d found him. When she returned to the table, she told the ladies she wasn’t feeling well and excused herself, insisting they stay and enjoy the rest of their dinner, but allowing them to call a car to take her home.

She lay in bed in her father’s guest room and touched her fingertips to her lips, as though she could preserve the feeling of Jamie’s kiss. As though the one person in Aster Bay who really saw her for who she was hadn’t just sent her away.

For the first time in months, she didn’t want to message DDB. She didn’t want to watch Brilliant British Bakes or daydream about the bakery she’d open one day. Instead, she rolled over, curling up into a ball, and closed her eyes, pretending she was back in that hotel room with Jamie’s arms around her and his lips on her neck.

Chapter 14

Jamie placed the last tray of stuffed shells in the chest freezer in Cheryl and Ricky’s basement and made his way back up to the living room where Cheryl sat, enthroned in a pile of pillows with a plate of waffle fries balanced on her very pregnant belly.

“Shells are in the freezer and there’s a turkey dinner with all the fixings in the fridge,” Jamie said.

“Honey, do you think you could maybe get the baby to stay in a little while longer?” Ricky asked with a goofy grin. “We’ve never eaten so well.”

Cheryl placed her hands on either side of her pregnant belly, cooing to her unborn child. “Don’t you listen to your daddy. You come on out of there. Any time now would be fine.” She bit into another waffle fry and a practically indecent groan fell from her lips. “Jamie, you are a godsend. How did you know I was craving waffle fries?”

Jamie shot Ricky a grin and a wink, before rummaging in the bottom of the cooler bag he’d brought with him. He retrieved a small plastic container and held it up for Cheryl. “And nacho cheese.”

She groaned again, reaching out for the container. “I swear to God, if I wasn’t already married—”

“But you are,” Ricky said, dropping a kiss on her forehead and swiping the container before heading for the kitchen. “I’ll just heat this up.”

Cheryl ripped off another piece of waffle fry. “So, tell me everything. How’s the festival planning coming?”

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