Red Rose Cupcake (Lunchtime Chronicles #63)

Chapter 1

ROSIE

I’ve been to enough of these get-togethers to know how they go. Small talk, good food, and dip early if I can. Except this time, I’m in Monterey, and I don’t know half of these people. Moving here for work seemed like a good idea, but tonight? I’m questioning everything.

I set my red rose cupcakes down, adjusting the plate like that’s going to make me feel less out of place. Relax, Rosie. Just smile, and maybe I’ll have a good time if I’m lucky.

As I step back, adjusting the plate one last time, I catch sight of him.

Damn.

He’s tall—gotta be over six feet—and built like somebody who knows his way around a gym. Dark brown hair, a little salt and pepper in his neatly trimmed scruff, and green eyes that are staring right at me. Those thick black-rimmed glasses shouldn’t work as well as they do, but somehow they make him even hotter. He’s got a calm confidence about him that doesn’t need to scream for attention—he just gets it.

Before I can stop myself, I’m watching him move through the crowd. Casual, laid-back, but… powerful. There’s something in the way he carries himself. And I know I’m staring a little too long. I try to look away, but too late—he’s already walking over.

“Who made these?” His voice is deep, smooth, and I feel it in my belly before I even look up. I glance up just as he picks up one of my cupcakes, giving it a quick once-over. “Uh, me.”

He takes a bite, and the sound he makes? A deep, satisfied groan that hits me lower this time.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, licking a bit of frosting from his thumb. “This is amazing.”

I blink, watching him enjoy the cupcake more than anyone should and getting completely turned by the sounds and faces he’s making.

I clear my throat. “Glad you like ‘em.”

“Like ‘em?” He glances at the cupcake, then back at me, eyes at half-mast behind those glasses. “I’m pretty sure I just had a spiritual experience.”

I laugh, shaking my head, relaxing at his joke. “It’s just a cupcake.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, before eyeing the plate like he’s tempted to go for another, or just grab the whole thing. “These are fucking amazing.”

I shrug, trying to keep it casual. “It’s an old family recipe.”

He takes another bite, humming and closing his eyes, savoring it. And I stay there glued in place, just staring, fascinated.

“Well, your family did you right.”

I smile at that, feeling the tension ease a bit. “I’ll be sure to let them know.”

The way he’s looking at me, though? It’s more than just a casual compliment. He’s got this quiet intensity about him, like he’s taking his time reading me before saying something else. And I can’t help but wonder what else he’s thinking. Then he lifts his chin at me, a crooked grin pulling up one side of his full lips, and walks away, another cupcake in hand, raising it like he’s toasting me. I watch in fascination as he takes away his fine ass. Dark jeans, just the perfect fit for me to drool over his perfect backside. Black sweater hugging his muscular back. Fuck, tonight might not be too bad after all.

* * *

I’m pulled into a conversation with a group of girls. We’re talking about dates, relationships, and, naturally, the conversation shifts to sex. I laugh, more relaxed now, joining in the fun.

“Honestly? Men can’t make women come,” I say, shrugging. “If you want the job done right, you gotta take it into your own hands.”

The girls laugh, some of them agreeing with me, but before I can add anything, I hear that voice again.

“I don’t know if I’d agree with that.”

I turn, and there’s Knox—yeah, I caught his name earlier—standing there, commanding the room, leaning casually in the doorway, grinning like the total snack he is. He’s not trying to steal the spotlight, but the way he’s looking at me, I can’t turn away.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve got a better theory?”

He steps closer, his eyes steady on mine. “It’s all about finding the right connection.”

I tilt my head, curious now. “The right connection, uh?”

He nods, calm and steady. “I think everyone’s capable of giving pleasure to their partner. It’s more about knowing how to listen. Paying attention to their clues.”

His voice drops slightly, like we’re the only ones here, and it’s not cocky—it’s assured, confident in a way that feels… hot.

I cross my arms, leaning into the moment. “So what I’m hearing is you’ve got all the answers?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. And damn if the sound doesn’t make my temperature rise. “Not all the answers. But I know to ask the right questions.”

Interesting. My heart does a little flip, and I can’t hold back my smile.

My new friend and colleague, Candace, our host, jumps in. “Oh, Knox would know what he’s talking about.” She’s smirking. “He’s a sex therapist,” she tells me.

I stand there, eyes wide, mouth gaping. Really?…

Knox steps closer, his green eyes still locked on mine, his rich voice dropping even lower. “If you’re curious, I could show you.”

The air shifts between us, and I feel the heat rising in my chest. Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? The crazy thing is… I’m tempted to say yes. “Show me, huh?”

Knox leans in just a bit, the rich notes of his woodsy cologne hitting me straight where it counts—a warm, manly scent that wraps around me like a hug. “Yeah,” he says, voice gravelly now. “I bet I could.”

I blink, feeling my breath catch. He’s not being pushy. He’s not even being cocky. But there’s something in his smoldering eyes that says he’d know what he’s doing, and more than that, he’d know exactly how to make it feel right.

“And if you’re wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, while my heart is racing.

“I’m not,” he says, his calm tone hypnotizing. “But it’s not about being right or wrong. It’s about giving you what you want. What you need.”

There’s a beat of silence, the air between us thick with tension. I should be shutting this down. I should be the responsible adult here. Fuck that.

I smirk, feeling the pull between us grow stronger. “Alright, you’re on.”