Chapter 14
Lauralee
My body wants to melt against him, and my mind still swirls in the swoon, but it’s that other part, the part of me that wants this man more than seems feasibly possible, that wins out.
I kiss him, holding his arms as he moves me inside the apartment.
He lowers his hands to get a good grasp of my ass, and I squeal as he lifts me from the floor.
The thrill of seeing Baylor again, those blue eyes telling me how much he misses and craves me without a word uttered, had me riled for more the moment I opened the door.
His pace is quicker as we get closer to the bedroom. Wrapping my legs around his middle, I shamelessly rub myself against him, needing the friction, which already has me tugging at this pesky shirt. “Take it off,” I say through jagged breaths.
He stops, tilts his head, and grins. “You want this shirt off, Shortcake?”
“I want all of it off.” My core tingles in anticipation.
Pushing me to the wall, he uses it as leverage to take the shirt off over his head. God, I missed these shoulder s so much, the muscles, the divot on the corner, highlighting his hard work. Just all of him.
I throw my head back as he kisses across my shoulder.
His fingers are deft as the button of my jean shorts pops open, and the zipper is forced halfway down.
I start on his neck as he shifts us back into action.
Then I come to my senses and throw my arms out wide.
The tips of my fingers grip the doorframe, and I breathe, “Stop.”
His head straightens on his neck as his eyes latch onto mine. He’s breathing as hard as I am when he asks, “What is it?”
“I have a reservation arriving any minute.”
When his brows pull together, his eyes briefly dart from my lips to my eyes. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know what he’d rather be doing. I’d rather be kissing him, too. “A reservation for what?”
I don’t know why that makes me laugh. It’s probably this carefree feeling he evokes in me.
It’s probably him being here and kissing me like it was his top priority upon returning.
And I don’t mind that one bit. I can’t say I haven’t thought about how this reunion would be or even go—if he would be mad how we left it or understand the mixed emotions.
“The apartment,” I say, lowering my feet back to the floor. “It’s rented for the entirety of the festival.”
His head shakes as it juts back on his neck. “What are you talking about?”
My smile is wiped away as confusion sets in. “I’m talking about this apartment we’re standing in right now. Someone rented it out for top dollar.” I grin, as this investment is already starting to pay off. “You need to get out of here before they show up.”
“Who? ”
“What do you mean who?” I laugh again as I slip out of his arms but flatten my palms to his torso to start working him back toward the door. His skin is warm, his chest hard. I bend to pick up his discarded shirt and toss it to him. “The renter. Mickey something.”
His expression morphs from confusion to a rogue grin that makes me want to kiss him again. I don’t because if I do, I won’t want to stop kissing those lips until I’ve come. “Baylor, you need to go. We can catch up later.”
“Baylor?” My mom . . . her footsteps are heard as she treks the staircase. “You still up here?”
“Shit,” he whispers, pulling his shirt back on over his head and running a hand through his hair. “What do we do?”
I start to laugh quietly so my mom can’t hear, which starts to make Baylor laugh as well.
I whisper, “And here I thought we were adults, but Mom shows up, and we’re suddenly afraid of getting caught.
” I fidget with my hair to smooth it down before remembering the button of my jean shorts is still undone.
I start to button them back up and silently mouth, “Go. Go. Go.”
I hop-step away from him just as my mom reaches the top platform. Her eyes go from him to me and then back to him, and she smiles. Holding out a large box, she says, “Here are your shortcakes. Do you want me to put them on a tab, or would you like to pay now?”
“You didn’t have to bring those all the way up here, Mrs—” She scolds him with a glare. I know that look very well. “Peaches,” he corrects. “I was just about to come back down.”
“Figured you kids were having a nice visit, but didn’t want you to forget your order.” She glances at me w ith a proud grin. “I know my Lauralee can be distracting.”
“She sure can be.”
I shoot him my own glare, but that wry grin sitting satisfactorily on his face tells me he has no regrets whatsoever. He’s going to give this away if he’s not careful.
Feeling more awkward than ever, I put out my hand to rest on the peninsula but miss the counter and slant sideways. Quick to catch myself, I ask, “Shortcake, you say?”
Catching the amusement on Baylor’s face elicits my embarrassment that he caught my major miss as well as my mom. She says, “Everything okay?”
Inwardly rolling my eyes at myself, I try to shake it off and try again. This time looking anything but nonchalant as I use the counter to hold me up. “Fine. Totally fine. Great. Incredible.”
Baylor starts shaking his head, looking down under the lightest chuckle. Even he knows I’m struggling, so he says, “Let me take those from you, Peaches.”
My mom grins like he’s her knight in shining armor.
I can’t say he doesn’t make me feel the same.
His mouth on mine made my heart thunder in my chest. There’s still a rumbling, though having your parent interrupt like you’re two teenagers trying to sneak around and have sex put a slight damper on our momentum.
That and the renter. I check my watch. He’s late.
She says, “Baylor here was so sweet and bought all the shortcakes for his family.”
He takes possession of the box. “Don’t want to show up empty-handed when I have the best dessert in the Hill Country to bring them.” Glancing at me, he says, “Delicious shortcake.”
I could crumble to the floor like the pound cake that plays second fiddle to the fresh strawberries. His words a re so devilishly delectable, I eat them right up and am ready for seconds.
I need to get a grip. Not everything has an underlying sexual innuendo, though that absolutely did. “Well,” I start to break up this mess of a conversation and walk toward the door to shuffle them out. “We should get out of here before our reservation shows up.”
Baylor says, “I’m the reservation, Shortcake.” Both of us dart our gazes to my mom to see if she caught the nickname. He holds up the box, and adds, “Shortcakes need to be delivered to the ranch.”
But I’m still stuck on the other thing he said. “What do you mean you’re the reservation? A Mickey is listed.”
“I thought you were joking earlier.”
“About?”
He comes closer, but the way he moves so fluidly across the floor makes me wonder if it’s the volition of our connection instead of this conversation.
“I thought you were just giving me a hard time.” He sets the box next to me on the counter.
“Mickey is my assistant. He booked it for me. My name should be listed somewhere.”
I look from him to my mom. “Did you see Baylor’s name listed anywhere?”
“No, I just looked at the bill paid section.”
Taking my phone from my purse I’d set on the floor nearby, I pull up the reservation app and read over the details.
Baylor chuckles before crossing his arms over his chest. My eyes slide from the screen to him.
I’m not sure why relief comes over me, but my shoulders drop the tension and slight panic that had begun to build over this potential error.
“Mickey was on the credit card. Baylor Greene is listed in the notes as the guest.”
“H appy to be the first guest.” His smugness is easily detected, but that smirky smirk says it all.
“If you hadn’t been sneaking around to make a reservation, I would have given you a discount.”
“I’m happy to pay full fare.”
I shrug and set my phone down. “If you say so, money bucks.”
He looks at my mom, and says, “I’ll come down and pay for the shortcakes.”
“I have the bill downstairs when you’re . . .” She glances between us once more as if she realizes she might have interrupted something, then walks to the door, throwing her hands up. “When you’re ready. No rush on my account.”
Oh lordy. I won’t hear the end of this unless I come up with a darn good cover story. As soon as she’s gone and we hear the last of her steps down the stairs, we still wait until the door to the shop slams closed.
I run into his arms again, our mouths crashing together in a flurry of sexual gratification. But then I rip my mouth and body away again. Wiping the corners of my lips, I say, “We can’t do this.”
“She’s waiting on me to pay.”
That sobering thought does the trick. “Right.” I take a deep breath and lick my lips. “You rented my place.” It’s not a question, so I don’t know what I’m asking. I’m still just surprised. Pleasantly so.
“Yeah. I’m hoping the landlord stays to keep me company.”
I lean against the counter, still facing him with my breath racing like my heartbeats. “I’m not sure how I’ll pull that off without her knowing or figuring it out.”
He comes to me, taking hold of my hips. “We’ll figure that out later.” I watch as his tongue seduces his b ottom lip and lean against him. When his arms come around me, I feel that same relief I did earlier when I discovered he’d be here for the weekend.
“My family is expecting me. You want to come out and have an early dinner with us?” Tapping the box, he laughs. “And shortcake? I have plenty to go around, though this wasn’t the shortcake I’m craving.”
“Oh yeah. Tell me more about that.”
Bending over me, he kisses my neck. “How about I show you?”
I don’t want to stop. I want to feel him showing me everything until I scream his name. But I know that can’t happen at the time being. I snuggle into the crook of his neck, breathing him and the woodsy cologne in that makes me go weak in the knees. “I’d like to go if the invitation still stands.”
His eyes find mine, and he nods. “The invitation still stands.”
“When are they expecting you?”
The grin on his face widens, and those eyes are bluer than a Texas summer day but hold the intensity of a devil at play. “I didn’t give a time, but I’m thinking they meant around three or four.”
“That’s hours from now,” I whisper.
“How do you want to pass the time?”
Not ten minutes later, I finish tying an apron around his midsection and give his ass a squeeze before I step back. Coming around to face him, I tap the tip of his nose while grinning like a loon. “Do you know how sexy this would be if you were shirtless?”
“You mean how much sexier this would be?” He tugs at the apron’s waist, but then his eyes lift above my head when the kitchen door swings open.
I step back from him, putting the metal worktable b etween us when my mom walks in.
She clasps her hands together in delight.
“I see Lauralee has recruited you to make cupcakes for the festival.”
“I’m at your daughter’s beck and call, so she can do whatever she wants with me.” His eyes dart to me. “How can I be of service?”
He’s so naughty that I roll my eyes, but when I look at him again, I kind of soften to him.
Baylor is trying. He’s here for me without any expectations of what we are or what we were when we parted last hanging over our heads.
I wouldn’t call him perfect, but he’s pretty close to it in my book right now.
She says, “Five hundred should cover the first two days.”
He looks at me. “How many are made?”
I hold up a big fat zero with my fingers. “I was planning to make them this afternoon.”
Not deterred in the least, he says, “Well then, let’s get to it.”