Chapter 7
Lauralee
The timer goes off just as I start frosting a cupcake order for pickup in one hour.
I set the piping bag down and grab the oven mitts on the way to the oven.
The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies escapes the oven as soon as I open the door.
I take a deep breath as I pull the tray out and set it on the counter, never tiring of my job.
I get to bake and create for a living. What more could a girl ask for?
I hear the bell chime over the front entrance. “Be right out,” I call, hoping they can hear me. I’m quick to wipe my hands on my apron before pushing the door that leads to the front counter. Said door whacks my ass, scooting me forward when my feet failed to do the job.
Looking more ruggedly handsome than ever in his T-shirt and jeans, Baylor says, “We came for ice cream.” The smirk on his face says a whole lot more than that, reminding me exactly where that mouth was last night, causing me to squirm in place.
My eyes dip to the familiar little tow-headed cutie holding his hand.
It’s quite the sight to see a man of his stature taking care of kids, especially as protectively as he’s holding Daisy’s hand.
“I can help y’all with that.” I come around the counter and dip down in front of her.
I poke her playfully in the belly. “How are you, punkin’? ”
She giggles, tossing her head back and holding her belly, her curls bouncing with every laugh.
Throwing her arms around my neck, she rests her head on my shoulder.
She’s become one of my favorite people in the world.
I’m just lucky that I also get to be her godmother.
Rubbing her back, I ask, “You want your favorite?”
Nodding, she steps back and touches my cheek with her hand. “Nilla pease, Leelee.”
“Vanilla coming right up.” I tap her nose and stand up, my eyes landing on Baylor again.
“She’s a classic kind of girl.” I set her on a counter stool and when I look his way again, he smiles, making my cheeks heat from the sincerity found tilted in the corners of his mouth.
I look away and take a quick breath to keep my heart calm, knowing it wants to race away if I let it.
It didn’t take long for me to become utterly ridiculous around him.
I bet he’s used to that reaction, but I’m not.
“You in charge for a while?” Why’d I just bat my eyelashes?
By his smirky expression, I take it he’s catching everything I’m putting down, even though it’s involuntary. Get a hold of yourself, Lauralee. “Thought Chris and Tag could use a break. He wasn’t wasting time either. I saw him heading to the house with some hand tools like a man on a mission.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“What?” His head jerks back on his neck. Covering Daisy’s ears, he says, “No. Gross. That’s my sister. ”
I start to laugh and top it off with an eye roll. Eyeing Daisy’s ears still covered, I ask, “What do you think she’d think about what happened last night?”
“I don’t know. She’s not going to find out from me.” He releases his niece’s ears when she gets wiggly and knocks his hand away. “I wanted to ask you about that.”
“Ask if I’m going to tell her? No. I don’t think one-time bears mentioning.” I hate that it suddenly feels less than for us. Especially when I can still see passion as his gaze rakes down my body. Assessing. Sexy. I clear my throat and change the subject. “I sense a Beckett in the area.”
As if cued, he comes running from the back of the store holding up a package of Big League Chewing Gum. “Can I get this, Uncle Baylor?”
“I think I basically stock that for him these days.”
Baylor eyes the gum and chuckles. “I used to love that stuff when I was young. You can get it. You still want ice cream, right?”
“Bubble gum.”
I stand and move behind the counter again to get the scooper. “I should have known. I remember the first time you came to the store with your dad. You got the same flavor.”
“It’s the best flavor.”
Holding my hands in the air, I shrug. “I won’t argue.
” I put a scoop of vanilla in a small cup for Daisy, just how she likes it, and then two scoops of Beckett’s favorite on a chocolate-dipped cone.
Daisy has made herself at home at the counter while Beckett eyes up what else he can talk his uncle into buying him.
I turn to Baylor and smile, amazed that it only took one night to change our relationship, to create from nothing like we had before.
Good or bad remains to be seen, but it sure feels good to be caught in the gaze of his attention.
I tap his chin, though that bottom lip is tempting me. “And what would you like?”
“Mmm.” He comes closer to the counter and studies his options, but his eyes never leave me—my eyes, my mouth, my chest. Even with an apron on, the heat from his gaze warms me from within.
It’s not ice cream he seems to be craving.
“What do I want?” he replies, dragging out each word with intention in his tone.
Plucking the front of the apron, I try to let air in by fanning my body.
“Nilla,” Daisy replies.
We burst out laughing. It feels so good to release the tension that had been building. I swing my gaze to her, noting she could use a wipe around . . . well, her whole face. Glancing at Baylor, I say, “You think about it while I clean her up.”
I grab a package of wet wipes from under the counter and walk to sit next to Daisy. Her eyes are so blue that I used to only see Chris, but now I see Baylor, too. I wipe up her face just as she finishes her ice cream. “Was it good?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods and holds her arms out. I bring her to my lap as she attaches to me with her arms around my neck. Rubbing her back, I ask, “You tired? Is your uncle Baylor keeping you busy?”
She nods again, this time relaxing against me. It’s not busy this time of day; the hours after lunch and before late afternoon sets in. I kiss the side of her head, then look up to catch Baylor watching me.
He says, “On the drive over, she said she wanted curls like Leelee’s. Dark with long hair.”
Her hair is so fine and light in color with sweet little pigtail curls.
I rock back and forth just enough to encourage the nap she’s decided she needs.
“Growing up, I was always envious of Christine’s hair.
The color and it didn’t matter how messed up it got, mine looked like a rat’s nest compared to it. ”
Leaning against the ice cream case, he rests his elbows on the top, appearing to be staying a while. I wouldn’t be upset if he did. I just know the kids aren’t going to let him lounge around too long.
He says, “I like your hair.”
Simple but direct and sweet. “Thank you.” I’d noticed his, but it doesn’t matter how many times he drags his fingers through it, he always looks freshly-rolled-out-of-bed-sex appealing. Men have it so easy.
“I think I’ve decided.”
Resting my head against the top of Daisy’s, I ask, “Decided?”
“I’ve decided what I want.”
His grin isn’t even naughty, but his eyes are by how every insinuation lies in the bluest parts of them as they intensify on me. I bite the side of my bottom lip, but then whisper, “What do you want, Baylor?”
“Shortcake.” He gives me a wink. “It’s my favorite.”
My mouth falls open as I stare into devilishly sexy eyes. I take a breath and clamp it shut, knowing I’m going to hell for flirting with him while holding a child. And God, Chris better never find out.
But then it hits me. We’re flirting. Baylor Greene is flirting with me, and I’m doing it right back. My throat has gone dry, my hands are sweating, and my tummy clenches from the look in his eyes. Oh, he’s good. Too good at this.
Unsure what to do other than stand, I’m careful not to wake Daisy as I go to hand her to him. She settles on him, turning her head to the other side, but her eyes are still closed.
“You know we’re going to hell for doing this in front of her, right?”
“What are we doing?” he asks, holding her like she’s his own.
And there go my ovaries.
Dragging my palms down my apron, I grab a cup and fill it with water from a pitcher nearby. I down half before I dare turn back. It’s tempting to just disappear into the kitchen and pretend this never happened. What are we doing anyway?
How did this escalate so quickly?
I know how. The man is hot. Fantasy hot. Inspiring me to invite him over again. No. That would be too forward.
Forward?
That’s what I’m worried about. I roll my eyes at myself and shake my head.
I should be more concerned that I want to have sex with my best friend’s brother, Daisy and Beckett’s uncle .
. . Oh my God . I’m a horrible person. Have I become so desperate that I’m not just thinking about the hometown hero in a compromising position, but I can almost feel his mouth fucking me like he did last night.
Good lord, the man’s practically an out-of-towner at this point. He leaves on Monday. Baylor Greene is the last person I should invest my heart or anything in.
“Hey there,” he says, his voice bringing me back to what’s happening right in front of me. He grins. “You disappeared on me.”
“No,” I lie. “I’m right here.” I lean on the counter, trying to act nonchalant when I’m the most “chalant” I’ve ever been, wound up tighter than a knot that won’t come undone. “I didn’t make any shortcake today. ”
His expression relaxes, the lines easing at the corners of his eyes. “That’s okay. You can make up for it later.”
My entire body alerts. “Later?” Please mean tonight.
“Well, you know, another time.”
“Right.” I shake it off like I understood what he meant all along. “Another time.”
Raising his free hand up in the air, he says, “I’m going to ask you about money, and that does not mean I think you’re desperate or wanton or whatever your mind concocts at the moment.”