Baked (Love Burns #3)

CHAPTER SIX

R achel had been in a daze for two days now. Ever since Hunter had deep-fried her brain with his clever mouth and then announced his intention to make her his.

For keeps.

What did that even mean? They may have technically known each other through their friends, but they didn’t really know each other. Not in a way that would qualify either of them to make that kind of decision. He’d always kept his distance. And whenever she had tried to initiate a conversation, it had consisted of her speaking at him. Their interactions had only ever been one-sided. Until a few days ago.

It could just be his weird way of telling you he wants this to be a relationship rather than something casual.

Who the hell knew? She certainly didn’t.

And she hadn’t even had a chance to ask him. For the past two nights, his shift had run over, so he’d had Luke pick her up from the bakery. By the time he’d gotten back to her apartment, she’d been in bed. And in the mornings, five a.m. wasn’t exactly the best time to have a heart-to-heart.

So now here she was. Climbing the walls. Analyzing every single word that he’d said. Trying her hardest not to let neurosis set in. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d also apparently become wobblier than a bobblehead, jumping out of her skin every time the Fairy Baked store bell rang out.

Talking of which, her head whipped around to find Wade Evans swaggering through her glass door, looking every bit the Wyoming cowboy that he was. He lifted his cream hat from his head as he strode further inside, revealing a freshly cut crop of dirty blonde hair.

“Afternoon, darlin’.”

“Hey, sugar, what brings you by?” It wasn’t often she was graced with Wade’s presence. Libby’s soon-to-be brother-in-law was normally too knee-deep in running the Evans ranch to get into town.

“Matt’s birthday.” He flashed her a lopsided smile. “Figured we’d treat him to a cake this year, seeing as he’s finally reached the big three zero. And as you’re the best baker in town ...”

Flattery would get him anywhere. She smiled back. “The only baker, you mean.”

“That too.” He chuckled, making his dimples pop. “You think you can whip something up for me?”

“Of course”—she reached for a paper and pen—“you got anything particular in mind? Flavor, design, words you want written on it? Oh, and when do you need it by?”

Wade was shifting in his shit kickers, running a tanned hand over his head. “Uh, what do you recommend?”

Rachel pulled out her phone and spent the next ten minutes flicking through pictures of cakes she’d made and going through all the different flavor combinations. By the end of it, Wade looked pretty darn overwhelmed, but he’d managed to come to a decision. Peanut butter chocolate cake topped with a sugar-carved cowboy hat.

“I appreciate your help, darlin’.” The hat was back on. “And I’ll see you at the party, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” It was hard to keep the smile off her face; she hadn’t made a custom cake in ages, and this was going to be fun.

***

A n hour later, she was just getting used to the shop bell when her bakery door burst open. A whoosh of air hit her right in the face as an angry-looking Hunter pushed himself inside, making her doorframe look tiny as his wide shoulders blocked out the sun.

“What was Wade Evans doing here?” he practically shouted.

“What?”

“Wade Evans, what was he doing here?”

All of a sudden, she remembered the cameras. The creeper cameras. “Have you been watching me?”

“Honeybun,” he growled, rounding the counter and not stopping until the tips of his shoes met hers, “don’t change the subject.”

Lifting her head, she stretched it all the way back until she was looking into those cocoa-colored pools. “What exactly do you think happened, Hunter? He declared his undying love and I realized that yep, actually, maybe I love him too?”

Did he seriously think he had any competition? Sure, Wade was a good-looking guy, but he was definitely not her type. Cowboys were so not her thing; they were nothing but trouble. Not to mention, the fact she hadn’t even acknowledged any other man since she’d laid eyes on Hunter.

He was making that noise again, something between a growl and a low rumble. It was the reason her hand lifted and came to rest over his heart. “Are you seriously jealous of Wade Evans?”

“What were you talking about? You had your phone out.”

That was a yes then.

She found herself sighing. “He wanted a cake, Hunter. For Matt’s birthday. I was showing him pictures of other custom cakes I’ve made.”

Rachel saw the exact moment regret filled his smile lines, his hard outer shell cracking before her very eyes. It was hard to be mad at him when he was looking so damn sorry.

“Look, Hunter, I’m gonna give you a free pass this time for the whole jealous rage, bursting through my door like a bat-out-of-hell thing. But, next time, I won’t be so forgiving. If you meant what you said the other day about us doing this ... then you’re gonna need to trust me. Yeah?”

One nod was all he gave her, his expression still filled with sadness. It was enough to make her reach up on her tiptoes to give him a closed-mouth kiss.

“For the record, you don’t have anything to worry about. I don’t want anyone else.”

Something like hope lit up the deep brown in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

W hat the hell am I gonna wear?

It had been so freaking long since Rachel had been on a date, she hadn’t the first clue what she was doing, let alone what she was supposed to wear. And the contents of her closet, which were now strewn across her bed, were paying the price. None of her outfits were really doing it for her.

Another knock on her bedroom door brought her out of her contemplative stupor.

“You almost ready, honeybun?”

No. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute!”

It was time to make a decision. Her gaze went back to the layers of garments piled onto her sheets. Maybe a dress? Yes. A dress would work. It was about time Hunter saw her in an outfit that wasn’t jeans. Or covered in flour.

But there were only really two dresses she liked. Picking them both up, she took her time eyeing them. Black or red?

Fuck it.

Red won. Yes, it was more “in your face” than her normal attire, but that was the point of getting dressed up for a date, right? Plus, it wasn’t like she had men knocking down her door to take her out, so she might as well make the most of tonight. Who knew when it would happen again?

Holding the dress up high, she took a final look at the strapless crimson beauty before untangling it from the hanger. Once it was on, it rested just above her knee. She decided that it was the perfect combination of sexy and sweet, and staring at her reflection in her bejeweled full-length mirror, she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Wow, I actually look hot.

Slipping into some nude heels, she scrunched her hair in the mirror one last time to try and give it some extra volume. And she was done. It was time.

Don’t be a dork. Don’t be a dork. Don’t be a dork.

Flinging the door open, her heels clicked the wooden panels all the way down the hall and around the corner to the front door.

“Shit,” was the first and only word out of Hunter’s mouth as she warily approached.

“Uh ...” Not sure what to say, her eyes flicked down over her outfit and back up to him. “Is that a good shit? ”

He was moving toward her now. One good thing about her heels was she didn’t have to stretch her neck too far back the closer he got. Once he was in touching distance, a big hand cupped her face, his fingers pushing into her hair, his intense brown eyes holding her hostage.

“Yeah, baby, it was a good one. You look beautiful.”

Heat filled her cheeks as his gaze darkened. “Thanks.” Her own eyes dipped to his outfit. He didn’t look so bad himself. He was wearing a fitted black shirt with the top three buttons undone, flashing her that lickable tanned chest, and a fancy dark brown belt with a shiny buckle holding up his black jeans. “Uh, you look nice too.”

Don’t be a dork.

Her inner voice really needed to be realistic.

“Thanks, honeybun.” His lips tipped to the side. “You ready to go?”

She nodded.

Ready as I’ll ever be.

Thirty minutes into their drive, Hunter’s truck was cruising down Goldacre’s backroads, her stomach flipping with every bump they went over. Goldacre was the next town over. It was much bigger than Woodvalley Pines and just so happened to have the best cake supply shop she’d come across.

The fact they were in Goldacre wasn’t a surprise, but the miles of countryside surrounding them was. Just a hunch, but she was guessing they weren’t going to some fancy restaurant. Not that Hunter was sharing. Every time she had asked, back was that familiar grunt.

I guess it’s a surprise.

A few minutes and two sharp turns later, they pulled into an open field.

Rachel’s mouth hung open. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it was safe to say it was not this.

“How ... I ... How does this even exist?” Her eyes took in the huge projector screen ahead of them.

“Buddy of mine at the station told me about it. Last of its kind, huh?”

She felt Hunter’s eyes sinking into the side of her face, but she didn’t turn. Not yet. She was too busy taking it all in. A red kitsch concession stand stood next to the ticket booth in the far corner. On the other side, a massive sign with tonight’s movie written on it towered over the parking lot. There couldn’t have been more than ten other cars there, already parked in a designated spot.

“You like it?” Hunter asked.

It made her realize she was yet to speak. “Are you kidding me?” She twisted in her seat to find an apprehensive expression furrowing his thick brown brows. “I love it! It’s amazing. I’ve never ... I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in, but I could never find one.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“A few months back you were telling Libby how ridiculous it was that you spent most of your childhood watching movies full of drive-ins but in thirty-three years you’ve never actually had the chance to go to one. And the ones you’d googled were a million miles away.”

Her mouth wasn’t done catching flies. It was back open. Pure wonderment likely shining in her eyes.

“You remembered that?” she whispered.

“I remember everything, honeybun.”

And just like that, her mouth was doing its own thing again. Leaning over the console, she was prising his lips open like her life depended on it, her body burning as dark stubble scraped along her chin and his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

As usual, Hunter took control, one big hand moving to her nape to hold her just where he wanted her, brushing his thumb over her sensitive skin. The other went to her waist, and pulled. Hard. Forcing her closer until she was convinced she was about to get drunk on the unfiltered testosterone filling her lungs. He smelled of musk, motor oil, and man. It was sexy as hell.

Sipping on his groans, she let the liquid heat fill her insides. A familiar tug in her stomach returned, flipping off switches in her brain until she was too far gone to stop herself from moaning right back into his mouth.

Just as she was about to climb the mountain of a man, horns blared behind them. All of a sudden, her cloudy mind remembered where they were.

Damnit.

Hunter was still growling as he released her, a look of pure animalistic heat on his face, making his firm jaw lock and his dark eyes flash.

She stayed where she was, heavy breaths filling the cab as she tried to get herself under control. This man had certainly found her on button. It was turning it off that was the problem.

“Fuck, baby.” Hunter started the ignition and drove toward one of the back-row spots. “You kiss me like that again, we might not make it back to the apartment tonight.”

Excitement pooled in her belly. Tonight was the night. Thank you, Jesus.