Chapter 5
chapter
five
Damien
It could be said that I’m eager. That could explain why I showed up early to the cabin that I’ll share with Caroline for the next few days. Instead, I’m going to pretend that I’m just prepared.
You can see through my bullshit, can’t you?
When they did my intake interview, I focused on Caroline’s professionalism and her skill because she’s obviously very talented.
Here's what I didn't say. I took one look at Caroline's dark hair, and that scrunched up nose when she was concentrating and the curves in her body. Fuck, all those delicious curves.
Yep, so I'd watched several contestant videos, and Caroline was the only one that gave me a hard on. She's the only one that got my attention.
One look at her and I knew she had to be my partner.
My ragged nerves? Yeah, I’m also going to pretend those are exclusively about the cameras all over this house. Yes, I’m used to being filmed, but my home set up is small and intimate because that’s what my brand is selling.
My brand. Two years ago, I would not have imagined this is where my life would take me. Thanks to my severe dyslexia, I was the stupid kid who barely graduated high school and had no real focus in life except to not be like the rest of the Leblanc men. Deadbeats, drunks and losers, all of them. I just knew I didn’t want to be any of that.
So I’d worked my ass off helping my mom and aunts and my sister in the family bakery. It hadn’t been doing well since the pandemic, and we were on the verge of having to close up shop. Then my sister had had a bit of inspiration one night while scrolling social media. Next thing I knew she was in my kitchen, I was shirtless, and she was filming me bake. Seductively bake.
I never talked in the videos, just used the ingredients in sensual ways as I created a sweet treat. It took three videos for things to go viral and the next thing I knew I’d been dubbed The Bad Boy of Baking and the endorsements and money had started pouring in.
So yeah, I saved my family’s bakery. With my body and looks. I’d rather Aurelia, my sister, get all the credit since it was her idea.
And speak of the she-devil, my phone pings with a text from her.
AURELIA: Soooo what I she like in person?
AURELIA: I am obsessed with her hair.
AURELIA: Probably shouldn’t tell her that unless she’s comfortable with stalkers.
ME: There’s something very wrong with you.
ME: Also, she’s not here yet.
AURELIA: OMG! I bet you’re climbing the walls.
ME: I am fine.
I am not. If the cameras are filming now, they’ve caught me sitting on nearly every surface, then moving to the next one. Pacing, then sitting, then pacing again. I should have gone for a run. Get out some of this pent-up energy.
AURELIA: Y’all are gonna fall in love, and it’s going to be the cutest thing ever.
ME: What are you even talking about?
It’s not a question I should ask my sister. Nor should I pretend I don’t know what she’s inferring. Aurelia can read me like I’m made of glass.
AURELIA: Are you really going to play dumb with me, little brother?
ME: Don’t you have children you should be raising?
AURELIA: Shut your face.
AURELIA: Also don’t pretend you’re not already half in love with this woman. How many times did you watch her audition tape?
ME: I had to make sure I was making an informed decision.
AURELIA: You are so full of shit.
ME: I am not in love with anyone. I don’t even know Caroline. Not yet at least.
AURELIA: But you’ll be open to it?
ME: Yes.
ME: Also, I might be obsessed with her hair too.
I hear the key in the lock and stand, then force myself to sit, then jump up and move into the kitchen to lean against the counter.
ME: Gotta go. She’s here.
My phone pings again, but I’ve already slipped it back into my pocket.
Then she’s standing there. Impossibly pale skin and equally dark hair. Like Snow White come to life, and she is definitely the most fairest of all. Whatever the fuck that means. Awesome, now I’m thinking in metaphors I don’t even get. Or is that an analogy?
Focus, dumb ass!
I step forward. “Hey, I’m Damien. Did you need help with any of your bags?”
She hefts up the one hanging from her shoulder. “I got it all. Thanks though. Did you already pick a room? I can just grab the other.”
I scratch at the back of my neck. “Oh, I actually hadn’t even thought that far. I just dropped my stuff in the living room.”
She’s so fucking gorgeous, it’s short-circuiting my brain. Like her tits alone are worthy of a sonnet or whatever. Not that I know how to write one, but I’m pretty sure old Shakespeare would have had plenty to say.
“I thought maybe we could talk and get to know each other a little,” I say. My phone buzzes in my pocket.
She sets down her bag and nods. “Caroline Mathis. Graduated from The Culinary Institute of America in San Antonio with an Associate Degree in Pastry and Baking.” She tilts her head. “That’s about it. You?”
I chuckle and take a step towards her. “I saw your audition tape, so I know your credentials. Very impressive.”
I sure as fuck hope she doesn’t ask for mine.
Another buzz from my phone. “I was thinking more along the lines of who you are as a person.”
Her nose scrunches and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to kiss her. I’ve got to get my head in the game. Winning this with her could solidify the future of my family’s bakery and make a large donation to my dyslexia charity.
“I think for the purposes of this show, maybe it’s better if we keep things professional. This competition is very important to me, and I’d rather you not screw it up.” I step backward. Her words are a slap to my face I didn’t see coming.
Her tone is still kind, but the words themselves are sharper than my set of knives.
Her eyes dart to my jeans pocket when my phone vibrates again. “I think your wife or girlfriend or whoever is desperate to talk to you.”
“I don’t have either,” I say. I stare at her, and she stares back. “Do you have any questions for me?”
She shakes her head. Then crosses her arms over her ample chest. “No, I learned everything I needed to know about you from watching one of your videos.”
I cross my own arms over my chest. “I take it you’re not a fan.”
A look of distaste crosses her pretty face. Maybe I completely misjudged Caroline Mathis, and she isn’t sweet at all. Maybe she’s judgmental and a little bit cruel.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I walk closer to her. I need to see her eyes close up for this conversation. Really remind myself that this woman is not who I expected her to be.
“No, I am not a fan. What you do is not baking and it’s certainly not professional,” she snaps.
I shrug. “Not baking? That seems a little hasty.” I crowd into her until she backs up to the counter.
She visibly swallows.
“You haven’t even sampled…” I let my eyes rake down her body, then back up to her face. “Any of my treats.”
“Your videos are deplorable?”
I feel my cheek kick up in a half smile. “Oh sweetness, is that a question or a statement?”
She frowns. “You’re standing very close to me.”
“We’re going to have to work very closely with one another. Might as well get used to it.”
“I hope that you don’t expect to do any of those shirtless shenanigans during the competition,” she says, her voice breathless. “That would be very distracting. Er… disturbing.”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you’re saying.” I step even closer, bracketing my arms on either side of her voluptuous body. I stand at least a head taller than her, but leaned over as I am, we’re eye-to-eye. “You need to know that I’m going to bake the way I always bake. But don’t worry, Sweetness, I’ll show you how things work. I’m more than happy to help you get your hands dirty.”
She sucks in a breath and her eyes flutter closed, and I swear she looks like she’s on the brink of a climax. Holy shit that’s hot. And somehow my dick gets even harder.
Then she gives her head a little shake and shoves against me.
“That charming, seductive nonsense might work on most women, but I can assure you I am not most women.” Then she turns, grabs her bag and disappears into the other part of the cabin.
And I’m left with a hard-on and a partner who clearly hates me. So why do I still want her so damn bad?