Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
JULIUS
“Hey, I have a desperate single mom who needs birthday cupcakes for her son to take to school tomorrow.”
Constantine looks up from the cake he’s decorating with buttercream flowers.
“Sure thing, boss. Might have to stay here late.” His lips curl up in a teasing smile. “You know, after hours. All on my own. Unsupervised.”
I close the kitchen door and go around the island to stand behind him. A tiny moan leaves his lips when I press my growing erection against his ass.
“I’m not sure you can be trusted on your own,” I breathe onto his neck, and he shivers. “My kitchen does have a history of setting itself on fire.”
“I guess you better stay with me then. To supervise.”
I press a kiss to the back of his neck. “I guess I will.”
Yeah, pretending that what happened in my living room was merely between Julius and Constantine and wouldn’t affect our work together lasted all of twelve hours.
After seeing his face as he came, the bliss in his eyes, the way he gave himself to me? I’m only fucking human, and Constantine is the first man in a long time that’s made me feel like I could lose myself to someone else.
Hella’s always said to throw caution to the wind once in a while and let life happen before I wake up one morning and find myself old and alone.
“You should tell your customer we can work on the order before she thinks you’re ignoring her. She can pick it up tomorrow when we open,” he says with a chuckle, and that’s when I realize I haven’t moved.
“You smell nice.” Like cake batter and citrus.
“So do you, but I can work with a boner. Your anaconda is harder to hide under that thin apron.”
“Constantine…” I sigh. I’m so hopelessly in lust with him.
It’s been five days since our living room sex, and apart from stolen kisses and a blowjob where he sucked my brains out through my dick a couple of days ago, we haven’t done anything.
Bittersweet is busier than ever, and Constantine’s focus is on work and Leo. I don’t blame him for that. It’s what I really like about him.
I just wish…for things I have no business wishing for. Constantine hasn’t expressed any desire to discuss what’s happening between us, so I won’t be the clingy one demanding answers.
I can do casual. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for years?
Then why does casual feel like a bitter word when it comes to Constantine?
I’m confirming the order with the customer when Fletcher comes in.
“Hey, Julius.”
“Hey. Give me a second, and I’ll be with you.”
“No problem. Okay if I check in with Connie?”
“Sure.”
When the customer leaves, I clean the counters and rearrange the baked goods display to keep distracted from wanting to be a fly on the kitchen wall.
Fletcher isn’t shy about sticking his nose in everyone’s business, and he can sniff out a hookup from a mile away.
When he comes out of the kitchen, he’s wearing a suspicious smile.
“Can I get you a coffee?” I ask, straightening the pile of to-go cups.
“That’s really generous of you.”
“I’m a generous kind of guy.”
“So I hear.”
Shit.
“As they say, don’t believe everything you hear.”
His piercing blue eyes and long blond hair make Fletcher one of the most attractive men I know. He knows it too and uses it to his advantage. Shame my eyes and dick are tuned only to his friend’s personal frequency. Not to mention, Fletcher is happily married.
“Dammit. You’re not budging either. I could swear you and Connie are hooking up. And if you’re not, you should be.”
I snort. “Glad to have your approval.”
“You’re welcome. Now, can I please take two bribes with extra sprinkles to go?”
“Peanut butter and chocolate?”
“Yup.”
“You got it. What is it this time?” I ask, my curiosity peeked.
“We need to convince George and Megan to stay with my parents for a weekend next month so I can take Harrison away.”
I laugh. “How does Harrison feel about your underhanded tactics?”
“It was his idea. We really want to spend a weekend at the lake cabin. No clothes. No treasure hunts. No arguments about bedtime. Just us.”
I put a lid on his coffee and hand over the box with the two cupcakes, extra sprinkles for Megan. “I hope it works.”
After Fletcher leaves, we have a quiet moment in the coffee shop, so I grab my laptop and reconcile some invoices. Something I used to do at home over the weekend, but since I don’t have to spend all my free time in the kitchen, I’m getting better at managing the business.
“I didn’t tell him.”
I glance at the open kitchen door where Constantine stands with his hands in the pockets of his jeans that I know for a fact don’t have enough room to make them usable, but somehow, he still manages.
“I know.”
“I figured you wouldn’t want people to know.”
I cross the space between us until I’m close enough that he can hear me but far away enough that anyone walking inside Bittersweet won’t be able to tell we’re having this kind of conversation.
“That’s not true. I don’t want people to know until we’ve had a chance to talk about it and decide if this”—I point at him and me—”is something we want to tell people about.”
He lets out a breath. “I don’t know if I can make you promises.”
“I wouldn’t ask you for them. All I want?—”
The door opening stops the conversation and Constantine smiles when he sees Leo coming in from school.
“Hey, Mini Constantine,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes. “How’s school.”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you want something to eat?”
“Nah. I’ll grab something upstairs.”
Constantine narrows his eyes, giving Leo an assessing look.
“Gee, stop it with the parental. I’m just stressed because I have a test to study for and I missed a few classes. It’ll be okay, but I have to go up and study,” Leo says.
Constantine squeezes his elbow. “I’ll be up later because we got a last-minute order, so you have extra quiet time. I’ll make you pasta for dinner.”
“With peas?”
Constantine laughs. “No, dude. That’s a sin. I’ll make you proper pasta like the Italians eat. You can get the peas on the side.”
“Fine.” Leo walks past us through the kitchen door to the back.
“You seriously denying a kid his veggies when he specifically asked for them?”
Constantine stares at me with wide eyes. “It’s. A. Sin. And I don’t want to get my chef credentials revoked because I served my kid pasta with nothing but butter and peas, which is what he’d have if he had his way.”
Before I can stop myself, I bring my hand to his face. “You’re a really good dad, you know that?”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Julius. I wasn’t there for most of his life, and then our mom practically abandoned him just as he”—he shakes his head—”never mind. I never planned for kids, but he’s my baby brother, and I’ll do anything for him.”
“I know.” And because I’m a sucker for punishment, I brush my lips against his, breaking the kiss way too soon for my liking, but with our conversation interrupted, I don’t want anyone to catch us. It’s bad enough that my sister keeps sending me messages asking about Constantine and if I’ve made my move yet.