Baked (Love Burns #3)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T he stool Hunter had dragged up to his kitchen counter creaked as he whisked another bowl of cake mix.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Luke asked, still slacking off and sipping on the free beer Hunter had provided.

“I told you, I have to do something.” Hunter sighed. “I can’t just sit around anymore and feel sorry for myself.”

Benny was next to put in his two cents as he took a break from decorating duty. “I think it’s cute. This is some Hallmark shit right here. Chicks totally dig this kinda thing.”

“They like getting ugly as fuck cupcakes?” Luke perched his butt against the wood counter opposite and crossed his ankles.

“It’s the thought that counts, brother,” Benny interjected before Hunter had a chance to tell his friend to fuck off.

“The thought being, I know you just broke up with me but, here, have some dodgy-looking cake ,” Luke replied.

Hunter felt his head shake as he blew out a long breath. Maybe his friend was right. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

Or maybe you shouldn’t have invited the ray of sunshine that is Luke over to help.

“Don’t listen to him, man,” Benny insisted. “He’s just pissed ’cause he’s not getting any, and he’s taking it out on innocent cupcakes.”

“Who said I’m not getting any?” Luke fired back, clearly offended by the accusation.

“That rat on your face, for a start.” Benny laughed.

Here we go. Hunter drowned out his friends bickering and focused on whisking. From experience, he knew there would be several more insults before they were ready to return to the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts drifted back to Rachel. Not that they were ever very far from her. But baking was bound to bring back memories. Memories of her standing here in this very kitchen, making muffins and imparting baking wisdom on him. She enjoyed telling him that her secret ingredient was love. And he had no doubt about it.

Love was the one ingredient he had buckets of, which was darn lucky because he was seriously lacking in the culinary skills department. He just hoped a whole lot of love was enough to make these cupcakes edible.

He heard his phone ping then, bringing his attention back to his surroundings. Looking up from the bowl, the first thing he noticed was Luke and Benny were still going at it. At some point, flour had obviously been thrown and frosting was now not only on the cupcakes but in both of their hair.

Jesus Christ.

“Bunch of fucking children,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Cat’s name appeared on his home screen.

Swiping open the message, he ignored the squeals coming from his friends.

Cat: Driving back tomorrow, should be there around 1.

He felt the blood rush to his ears. This had to work. There was no plan B.

Hunter: How’s she doing?

Cat: Not great. She saw her dad, and I get the impression it didn’t go so well. But don’t worry, I’m looking after her.

The fact Rachel went to see her dad was bad enough, but the thought of it not going well made his chest ache. He should have been there with her. To support her. And to make sure she didn’t let her father twist things in her head.

The only saving grace was that Cat was there. Looking out for her. Rachel’s friend may be hard on the outside, but he knew how soft she was on the inside. He saw it every day with the way she loved Cody and her now son, Dylan. And he knew how much she loved Rachel.

Hunter: Take good care of her.

Cat: Don’t worry, between me and the number of whiskey Cokes she has in her system, she’ll be dancing on tables in no time.

Hunter hoped she was joking. But with Cat, you never did know.

***

H unter’s palms were sweating. This was it. His chance to fix things. His chance to show Rachel just how good they were together and convince her of what he already knew—that they were meant to be.

That was the reason he was standing there. In her apartment. In her kitchen. Like a creepy stalker.

I like to think of it as romantic.

Hopefully Rachel would feel the same way too and not call the cops on him.

The cupcakes he and his friends had spent the evening making were placed on the floor, leaving a trail of sugar from the front door to the kitchen, where he stood with an actual full-sized cake. It looked no less crappy than the cupcakes he’d made, but he figured it was the thought behind it that counted, right?

Hearing the car pull up outside the building was what had him straightening up. She was here.

You’ve got this.

But as time slipped by and faint sounds of footsteps echoed in the corridor, he worried that he might not have this. What if his grand gesture really did end up in her filing a restraining order?

He heard the latch on the front door click open. It was too late now.

Blowing out a breath, he prepared himself.

Now or never, man.

A small gasp from the hallway told him that she’d found her first cupcake. A shocked “What the fuck?” indicated she’d found the second or maybe the third.

A second later, Rachel was standing in front of him.

His beautiful fairy had her hair down, framing her delicate face and big blue eyes. She was wearing shorts and a cute little white camisole.

As always, she took his breath away. But it was the panic in her eyes that he tried to focus on. He could tell by the mist and her parted lips that there was a very real possibility that she was going to flee. Or she was at least thinking about fleeing. He couldn’t have that.

“Hunter, what are you ...? How did you ...? I mean ...”

He put her out of her misery and jumped in. “I’m here to fight for you, honeybun.” His eyes went to the cake he was still holding. “I made this for you. I made all of them for you. I know they don’t look like much, but I was trying to think of the best way to show you how much I love you, and I remembered you telling me how you like to put love into everything you bake.” He could hear himself babbling, but he wasn’t done. “So, although they may look like they’ve been run over by a truck a few times, I made sure to put all my love in them. The way you like it.”

By the time their eyes met again, a solitary tear was sliding down her cheek. That was enough to kick him into action. The next thing he knew, the cake was on the counter, and he was stepping into her space, his thumb swiping away the damp as he stared into those deep pools he’d missed so much.

“Please tell me you’re crying ’cause you’re worried I’m gonna make you eat the cake?”

His joke worked; a small smile broke, but it wasn’t enough to stop another teardrop from falling. “Did you use eggs?” She sniffled.

He was the one smiling now. “Of course I used eggs, honeybun. Are you saying it looks like I didn’t use eggs?”

She looked over at the cake on the counter again and then down at the cupcakes lining the floor. “They look a little flat and ... kinda sad.”

“What about the frosting? I used the bright pink you like, and did you see the glitter?”

She managed to steal his breath as her lips tipped up into a full-blown smile. He was getting distracted, like he usually did when she was around. But this time he couldn’t just drag her into his arms or plant a sloppy kiss on her pink lips, and that was a real shame. It was why he needed to stop flirting and get back to convincing her that they belonged together. Cupcake critiquing would have to wait.

“I missed you, baby,” he started. “I’ll make you cupcakes every damn day for the rest of my life if it means you come back to me.”

“Would I have to eat them?” She was still smiling. That had to be a good sign. Right?

His heart skipped a beat. She was teasing him. No more tears had hit her cheeks. And she hadn’t run. This was going better than he thought.

Keep going.

“I mean, that’s up to you, honeybun. If you wanna waste perfectly good cupcakes ’cause they don’t live up to your unrealistic beauty standards, then that’s on you.”

Her giggle was music to his ears. That was what he was fighting for. To hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

“I think that your idea of perfectly good and my idea of perfectly good are very different. Hint ... mine includes eggs.”

“I used eggs!” he protested. “I swear to God there are eggs in there.”

That only seemed to make her laugh harder, prompting him to turn to the counter and break off a piece of cake.

“Here, try it.” He held the bitesize piece up to her mouth and swallowed down a groan as she wrapped her lips around his fingers.

Goddamnit. She was made to be mine.

She was going to need to agree to be his again pretty damn soon at this rate because his control was slipping by the second. Her hummed “Mmm” wasn’t helping either.

“Okay, I gotta admit, it tastes way better than it looks.”

Success.

“It’s the love.” He told her.

He watched Rachel’s face gentle. “Yeah, Hunter, I bet it is.”

“Say you’ll be mine again.” He wasn’t above begging. In fact, that was the plan B he came up with this morning. “I just don’t work without you.”

He lost her eyes as her head dropped and started to shake. You didn’t need to be a genius to work out that wasn’t good.

“I don’t know how you can still want me, Hunter, after everything that happened. You got shot because of me, for God’s sake.”

This again? How could she possibly blame herself for what happened? This was all Leo.

Hunter wasn’t going to let her hide away, that’s how he lost her before. Using his index finger, he tipped her chin and stared deep into her eyes. She needed to see him just as much as she needed to hear him.

“I’m never gonna stop wanting you. Do you hear me? You’re it for me. Not one goddamn thing is ever going to change that. I’d take a bullet every damn day if it meant I got to call you my own. And as far as it being your fault, you know as well as I do that’s bullshit. Did you borrow money from those guys? Did you gamble it all away? No. You didn’t. Your dad did. This is on him, not you.”

“I went to see him.” Her voice was shaking almost as much as she was. “I told him I was done with him. He’s never to contact me again.”

So fucking strong.

“Do you feel better?”

She nodded, knocking his finger that was still nudging up her chin. “I don’t want to be like him. Or my mom.”

“You’re nothing like them, baby.”

“I’m scared you’ll leave,” she blurted. “I’m scared one day you’ll wake up and realize you don’t want me, like they did. I don’t think I could cope with someone else I love leaving me.”

She was destroying him.

Cupping her face with both his hands, he made sure she could see him. All of him.

“Listen to me, Rachel. I’m not going anywhere. If I didn’t think it would scare the shit out of you, I’d get down on one knee right fucking now. I want you. Forever. You’re my one. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you’d have the power to destroy me, and that’s why I stayed away. But do you know what I figured out these past few months?”

He waited for her to shake her head in his hold before continuing.

“That I don’t fucking care. Let my heart get shredded. Let it get stomped on. Rip it from my goddamn chest. I don’t care. ’Cause if it means I get to be with you, even for just a short while, it’d be worth it. You’re worth it.”

More tears broke free, but this time he let them run, dampening his thumbs as he kept hold of her face.

“It wouldn’t scare the shit out of me,” she whispered.

“What?”

“If you got down on one knee, it wouldn’t scare the shit out of me,” she repeated just as quietly.

Okay. Now he was worried he was having a full-on heart attack.

Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

It took a minute for his brain and his body to get on the same page, but when they did, he dropped to the ground.

Shit. My stitches. I bet this position isn’t doctor approved.

The look on Rachel’s face was worth it though. And now he had the green light, and he was fairly certain she wasn’t going to call the cops. There was no stopping him.

“Honeybun, you’re my light in the darkness. Not only do I love you, but I know that for as long as we both live, my heart will only beat for you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I don’t want to. So please say you’ll be mine. That you’ll build a future with me. Build a family. That you’ll make me the happiest man on the goddamn planet and agree to be Mrs. Rachel Campbell.” Taking hold of her hand, he let his thumb stroke her silky skin. “Marry me, baby?”

Her reply wasn’t verbal. It came in the form of frantic nodding. Enough for him to know he was the luckiest man to have ever lived.

Not able to get up without worrying his fairy, he dragged her down until she was kneeling too. When she was finally within kissing distance, he did what he’d been wanting to do since the moment she walked into the kitchen. His mouth captured hers, pulling her apart and tasting the sugar he’d been deprived of all week.

She moaned into him, her hands wrapping around his neck while her face angled to his demand.

This was what heaven felt like. His woman was finally back where she belonged. With him. And he knew he would do everything in his power to keep her there.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes but kept her lips against his. “Are we really doing this?”

“No takebacks, honeybun.” He grinned. “It’s too late to change your mind.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I better buy me a wedding dress.” She beamed back.

Happiest man on the goddamn planet.