Chapter 12
Addy
“Okay, I have it all planned out,” Cece says, perched on the counter, watching Alden prepare cookie dough. His muscles flex as he pushes the rolling pin, teasing us with the arm porn on display.
I quickly look away, feeling a little pervy thinking about Alden this way. Suddenly, I recall lifting Trevor’s hand to my mouth the other night. The bronzed skin, the chorded muscles, and the prominent masculine veins hypnotizing me as I thrust his index finger into my mouth. I still can’t believe I─
“Earth to Addison,” Cece calls out.
“Oh, sorry.” I giggle wiping frosting from my hand onto the dish towel beside me.
“You’ve been doing a lot of that since Trevor Laurence came to town.”
“God, is it that obvious?”
“Only to me.” She smiles in my direction. I know she’s excited to see me all worked up over a man. She’s repeatedly tried setting me up to no avail. But I’ve never felt this drawn to anyone until Mr. Grumpypants arrived.
“As I was saying before you drifted off into never-never land. I have your birthday all figured out. We ask Sam if he can make barbeque and brisket like he had at his party, then go to Pour Decisions and live it up. Do you want a cake or cupcakes for your big day?”
I tap the pad of my index finger against my chin knowingly. “Hmm. Do I have to make them?” A laugh tumbles from my lips.
Alden chuckles. “If you want them at your party, probably so.”
Clapping my hands in excitement, I blurt, “Well, I could make more penis cupcakes. I have leftover candy. I could probably even use the melting chocolate to make nipples for the guys’ cupcakes.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Addy. What kind of reputation do you want to give my bakery?”
Cece beams at me. “Well, if she’s making her own celebration treats, why not let her have fun with it?”
The bell chimes, interrupting our conversation, and I notice three burly firefighters walking in. Jason and Matthew are in the front, but I realize it isn’t Dave but Trevor with them.” My heart instantly skips a beat.
“Hello, boys. Slow day at the firehouse?” Cece asks from her perch.
“Is it ever. I never thought I’d be wishing for a call for a cat stuck up a tree.” Matt grins.
“Is this a social call, or can I help you guys with something?” Alden chimes in.
“We’re trying to spice up the day a little. We’re planning to make Mexican tonight. Steak, chicken, and shrimp fajitas. They’re probably going to set off fire alarms.” Jason jokes. “We wondered if you had anything sweet to finish it off with.”
“I’m not sure if you’re looking for anything specific. We just have the usual,” Alden says turning to me as if I know something he doesn’t. We’ve never really had any international pastry items.
Out of the blue, it hits me. I made a Tres Leches cake once, and it was super easy. “I have an idea. It’s a sweet Mexican dessert. It won’t take long to make. I can drop it by later if you like.”
“Wow, Addy. That’d be great,” Matthew answers, giving me a bright smile. He’s one of the sweeter guys in the group. Not so rowdy.
Jason walks over, giving me a side hug. “You really are the sweetest thing.” He squeezes me in a dramatic, teasing fashion before walking toward the door.
Suddenly my eyes connect with Trevor’s, and I almost have to take a step back. He’s practically glaring at me. What the hell? Why does he always look so uptight?
Jeez. I’m going to wear this boy down. Just watch me.
* * *
Arriving at the firehouse on my way home from work, I turn and use the back of my heel to knock on the door. The sheet cake I’m holding is too precarious to use my arms or hands.
The door flies open, and I’m standing face to face with Trevor, who’s wearing a blank expression.
“Um, thank you.” I roll my eyes when he can’t be bothered to greet me. “Can I come in?”
“Sure, sassy. Come on through.”
Really?
The decadent aroma of grilled meats and vegetables combined with the scent of cumin and red pepper envelop me. “Oh my gosh, it always smells so good in here. You guys honestly need to open a Firehouse Restaurant. Your food is better than anything in town.”
“Hey, gorgeous. You should join us. We have plenty,” Matt says, wearing an apron with the words, ‘This guy rubs his own meat.’
“Hey, Addy. What did you bring us?” Jason asks as he zooms in on the pastry box.
“It’s a Tres Leches cake. The sweet Mexican dessert I told you about. You poke holes into the cake once it’s baked and drizzle three kinds of milk, which get absorbed into the spongy nooks and crannies. The smooth whipped topping with berries will make it the perfect ending to your spicy meal.”
Dave leans over my shoulder, peering into the box. “Holy shit. That looks amazing. Did it take you long to make?”
“No, it was easy.” I beam proudly over my shoulder at him.
“You staying for dinner, Ad?” Matt asks.
As if on cue, I try to stifle a yawn. “No. It’s been a long day. I’m getting too old for long hours of partying.”
“It’s only six,” Trevor says with a huff.
“Well, I got to the bakery at four-thirty this morning because Alden needed to come in late today.” I try to stay chipper despite his condescending tone. Turning to him, I walk closer. “Why, you want me to stay?” I purr, blinking rapidly like a character from an animated cartoon.
Shaking his head, he doesn’t answer, just keeps watching the ballgame on the television in the main room.
“Just ignore him, Addy,” Matt says, patting my back.
“Hey, not to make it all about me. But my birthday is Friday.” I giggle. “So, I guess I am making Friday all about me.” I lean against the counter as Jason wraps an arm around me. “Cece’s going to get in touch with Sam to see if he’ll make some barbeque and brisket to bring to Pour Decisions. And I’m making some dirty cupcakes. I hope you guys can make it.”
“Hell yeah. Of course, we’ll be there,” Jason shouts over the sizzling of the grilled food. Man, I wish I could grab some of this to go. But I don’t want to keep hanging out here where I’m not wanted. Well, by Trevor, anyway. I’d rather wear him down on more neutral turf.
I give everyone a quick goodbye as I head for the door. Yet, just as I reach for the doorknob, a familiar grumpy voice stops me in my tracks. “What the hell are dirty cupcakes?”
Walking over to where Trevor’s sitting, I bend down letting my lips dust the shell of his ear. “They’re sinfully sweet. Like me. I hope you come.” I enunciate each word carefully, hoping he catches the double entendre.
His eyes flick to mine, and I swear that crackle of electricity is back. I give him a playful wink, so there’s no doubt how I meant the statement, straighten, and head for home.