Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“ W ait!” Estelle called, lunging across the kitchen. She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t add more flour until it’s mixed in.”
Crew huffed and set the cup down. “Why is baking a cake so complicated?”
Estelle rolled her eyes. “It isn’t complicated. It’s like chewing. Don’t add more food to your mouth until you’ve chewed and swallowed. Otherwise you just end up with a mess.”
Crew gave her a mischievous look. “What kind of mess?”
Estelle narrowed her eyes, daring him to make a move. “The kind I don’t want to clean up, thank you very much.”
“What if I promised to clean it up?”
She tilted her head and looked unimpressed. “Why does every troublemaker promise they’ll deal with the trouble, yet they never do?”
Crew’s eyes widened, and he put a hand on his chest. “Are you saying I’m a troublemaker?”
“And if I am?” Estelle had to hold back her smile. Layla’s party was tomorrow and they were baking her cake, but Estelle hadn’t expected it to be so…fun.
Decorating was business for her, though she loved what she did. However, having a handsome, bumbling man in the kitchen with her had Estelle enjoying even the tiniest of details. Apparently, even stuff as ridiculous as adding flour to the cake batter.
Crew stepped into her space, looming over her with his large frame. “Then I might have to do something about it.”
Anticipation licked up her spine, and Estelle had to fight tooth and nail to keep from looking at Crew’s mouth. He hadn’t tried to kiss her since that time on the couch last week, and with every passing day, she found herself growing more and more impatient.
Every morning, he showed up on her doorstep. Every day, they spent hours together, working, smiling, talking, cleaning, feeding, even cooking…but there had been no kissing.
“Oh?” Estelle feigned nonchalance. “And just what would that be?” She poked his sternum. “In case you forget, the kitchen is my domain. I’m in charge here.”
His lips twitched, and Crew tilted his head submissively. “In that case, I’m at your command, Madam Baker.”
“Madam Decorator,” she teased. “The baker is Aspen.”
Crew gave her a mock salute and stepped back, much to Estelle’s annoyance and disappointment. “Is it suitably mixed now for another cup?”
She leaned over the mixer. “Go ahead, but don’t—” Estelle slowly leaned back, her eyes closed and holding her breath. Turning to where she could hear Crew choking back his laughter, she cracked one eye open. “Pfft.” She blew out a mouthful of flour in his direction.
“Hey!” he yelped, leaping back and wiping at his shirt. “That wasn’t nice,”
She managed to open both eyes. “And this is?” She pointed to her face .
“My deepest apologies.” Crew stepped toward her, a towel in his hand. “Let me help you with that.”
Before he could do anything, Estelle snatched the towel. “I don’t think I trust you.” She wiped at her face, grateful she still didn’t have the energy for makeup yet. It had been disconcerting the first few times Crew had come over and she hadn’t been wearing any makeup, but the lack of dress up hadn’t seemed to stop Crew and Estelle was grateful for it.
She didn’t consider herself the prettiest flower in the garden, but she liked to look nice. Before everything went downhill with her family, Estelle had enjoyed pretty clothes and doing her hair just like any other woman, but lately, it was all she could do to keep taking showers.
If she had to go into the office, a splash of mascara was about all she managed, and ponytails had become her best friend.
“No, no,” Crew insisted. “My mess. I’ll clean it.”
Sighing dramatically, Estelle let him take the towel. Putting her hands on her hips, she closed her eyes and waited while he wiped at her face. “Are you about done?” she asked.
“Not quite.” The room was quiet. “Just one more spot,” he murmured.
Estelle didn’t register that his voice was closer than it should have been until his lips pressed into hers. Gasping, her automatic reaction was to pull back, which broke their mouths apart, something that brought an immediate sense of loss.
She stared at Crew, her breath shallow and her mind whirling. Her lips burned in the most pleasant way imaginable as she tried to catch up with what had happened.
Crew’s hands hung midair, but the longer she stared at him, the more he pulled back. His hands fell, and his cheeks grew pink.
Pushing aside the logical part of her brain that wanted to intrude, Estelle stepped forward, her hand landing on his chest.
Crew froze .
“You startled me,” she whispered.
One side of his mouth pulled up. “I’d say I’m sorry, but…” He shrugged.
Estelle slowly returned his smile. “May I have the towel?”
Crew frowned, his lower lip poking out ever so slightly and catching Estelle’s attention. “Sure.”
Estelle held out her hand and took the soft fabric. “It’s just that you’ve got a spot right here.” She wiped at the non-existent flour on his chin, stepping right against his chest and waiting for him to catch on.
Crew’s right eyebrow shot up, and his hands landed on her hips. “Transferred the mess did you?”
Estelle’s hand stopped. “It wasn’t my mess,” she reminded him.
“Did you get me cleaned up?” Crew pressed, his face lowering.
Her hold on the towel loosened. “I think you might be a lost cause.”
“Then it won’t matter if we spread the mess a little more?” His lips hovered just over hers, warm air pulsing between them with their rapid breathing.
“Not at all.” She sighed just as he finally put their mouths to better use. The towel landed with a plop, and Estelle’s hands slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck.
Crew followed her lead, and one of his hands went to her lower back, pulling Estelle into him and holding her tight. Tilting his head, his other hand dove into her hair and began to guide her, allowing Crew to command the kiss in a new way that had Estelle feeling as if the very floor under her feet had disappeared.
She’d been kissed by men before. Several in fact. But nothing could have prepared Estelle for what it was to be kissed by a man who treated her like she was one of the greatest treasures of the Earth.
Through the way he held her, she could feel his care, his desire and his eagerness to be with her. Gentle but firm, strong but careful, patient and eager…it told her more about Crew and who he was as a man than any of the previous week, though she had thought she’d learned plenty already.
The longer the kiss went on, the more Estelle melted, letting go of stress and reservations that had weighed her down for ages. Parts of her that had shriveled and died in the last few months were reemerging and coming to life. Parts that Estelle had forgotten even existed.
She wanted more.
Stretching up on tiptoe, she cupped his face and held on tight. Right now, she needed Crew Turley more than she needed to breathe, which was good, because his attention was stealing the very air from her lungs. And nothing had ever felt so good.
He needed to let her go. Now. Like right now. Before he entirely lost his senses, but rather than obeying his thoughts, Crew’s arms tightened and made sure there was absolutely no space between him and Estelle.
Funny enough, this kiss hadn’t exactly been planned. He’d been so moved by her cake planning last week that Crew had been ready to steal a kiss then and there, but another opportunity hadn’t presented itself…until now.
She’d looked so delectable, waiting for him to clean her face. They’d been teasing and flirting all morning and Crew had definitely been pushing their boundaries, but he hadn’t expected to land this.
Gasping for air, Estelle finally pulled back. Her eyes were wide and bright as she looked up at him, breathing heavily.
Crew tried to act cool, but inside he was strutting like a stupid peacock. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I think the flour’s all gone.”
Estelle jerked with a laugh, then relaxed into his hold and laid her head against his chest. “I didn’t realize kissing was a way to clean up the kitchen,” she said hoarsely.
The depth of her voice had Crew struggling not to do more “clean up.” “I’ll have to remember that one,” he said. “I think it’s my favorite.”
She shook slightly against him and Crew barely caught it, but his chest automatically puffed a little when she said, “Me too.”
They stood in contented silence for several long moments, and Crew rubbed his hand up and down her back. Just as he was contemplating staying that way forever, Estelle pulled back, creating a pocket of cold air between them.
Crew hated it.
“We’ll never get the cake done like this.”
If Layla hadn’t been involved, Crew would have let the cake go. Right now it was only a means to an end, and he was mourning the loss of their most recent activity. “True.” Crew cleared his throat and stepped up behind her, enjoying the hitch in her breath. “What do we do next?”
It took her a moment to answer, and Crew was grinning like the devil himself. His mom would have been appalled at how much he was enjoying teasing Estelle. “We need to add the last couple of ingredients and then put it in the oven.”
“Should I add more flour?”
“No!” She cried, spinning, then pausing as she looked up. “I mean…maybe. I’ll finish adding the flour.”
Crew chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “You already let me kiss you, Estelle. You’re not shutting the door so easily now.”
One eyebrow rose high. “Actually, I think I kissed you.”
“Even better.” He stole another one but forced himself to step back before it could get heated. “Okay.” He made sure to keep his body under control. “What next?” Rubbing his hands together gave him something to do other than reach for Estelle again, but the dazed look on her face was almost too much .
“Umm…” Blinking several times, Estelle turned and stared at the recipe. It took a few moments before she seemed to come to herself enough to know where they’d been. “Hang on.” Gathering a couple more things, she began carefully adding more to the mixer. “If you’ll grab the cake pans, we’ll get those prepped.”
“Where?”
“The cabinet to the left of the dishwasher.”
Crew dutifully followed directions and less than ten minutes later, they had the cakes baking in the oven. Leaning his back against the counter, Crew folded his arms over his chest. “So…is Aspen upset that we’re doing the baking?”
Estelle stood across the space from him, looking delightfully mussed and unsure of herself. “Not that I’m aware of. With me not going into the cafe, she’s got more on her plate than normal.”
“Is that going to be okay? You not being at the cafe for so long?” Crew tilted his head down, trying to catch her eye, but Estelle was doing a great job of avoiding eye contact. Her shyness had him ready to give chase.
She finally glanced up. “You’ve been away from your own office for a while. Is it going to be okay?”
Crew shrugged. “June isn’t our busiest month and we’re scheduled out for the rest of the summer, so it’s fine.”
“How long do you have left?” Her voice was small and vulnerable, and Crew realized she wasn’t shy about the kiss. She was worried about starting a relationship and having him leave. Crud. He hadn’t thought of how that might affect her right now when she was already so overwhelmed with everything.
Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around her, but Estelle didn’t relax into his hold the way he wanted her too. Kissing the top of her head, he rested his cheek there. “I’m here for about two more weeks,” he admitted. “But…I’m also only a phone call and a short plane ride away.”
She didn’t respond, and worry began to seep into his gut. Was he asking too much of her? To do the long-distance thing? It wasn’t really convenient, but their pull was too strong to not give a voice to. Or maybe she would rather have let it go than deal with one more weight on her shoulders?
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Estelle.”
She was still quiet for several more heartbeats. “I’m not sure what to think,” she finally admitted. Pulling back, she stayed within his arms but looked up, her eyes glassy.
Crew prayed she wouldn’t cry. He’d held her while she cried and had no problem with her emotions, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her crying over him. Even the thought of causing her to cry sent a sharp, visceral pain through his sternum, and he stiffened to keep from bending over from the impact of the imaginary knife.
“I don’t know if I have enough of me left to hold on to a long-distance relationship.”
That single sentence told Crew more about Estelle than anything else they’d talked about during the last week. This overwrought woman was golden to the core, and he had better tread carefully. “One day at a time,” he soothed, running his fingers along her jaw. “Can you really tell me you regret our kiss?”
She bit her lips between her teeth and shook her head, easing some of Crew’s worry.
“Then let’s take it one day at a time. My goal here isn’t to create more stress in your life, Estelle. I’m here to help, but like I said the other day, to also explore this thing between us.” He slid his hand down her arm and entwined their fingers, then brought their combined hands up and kissed the back of hers. It smelled of butter, sugar and vanilla, reminding him of their work this morning. “But neither of us know what will happen in the future. I just know I’m not ready to give you up.” He took a fortifying breath for his next question. “Do you think you can give us a chance? We’ll go as slow as you need to.”
A soft smile twitched. “Even if it meant no more kissing? ”
Crew scrunched his nose. “Even if,” he said, hating the thought of not kissing her again soon.
Estelle looked away, her face contemplative before she came back to him. “Then there’s only one thing to say, I think?”
“And that is?” His breath stalled in his lungs.
“Those closest to me call me Stelle,” she whispered. “Perhaps you should be one of them.”