Chapter Twenty-Three
The cake was perfect.
Julia stood in the bakery kitchen, staring at her creation with something like wonder. Golden sponge, level layers, not a single crack in sight. She'd made a cake. An actual edible cake. Perhaps the apocalypse was upon them.
"It's not bad," Elliott said, peering over her shoulder.
"Not bad? It's a miracle. I should alert the Vatican."
But her mind wasn't really on the cake. It was on what had happened earlier. Her mother's cold interrogation, the dismissive way she'd asked about credentials and training. The way she'd made Elliott feel small. The memory made Julia's chest tight with anger.
They climbed the stairs to the flat in comfortable silence, Julia carrying her miracle cake. But once inside, she set the cake on the counter and turned to face Elliott.
"I'm sorry," she said. "About my mum. The way she spoke to you earlier."
Elliott leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Don't."
"She had no right to make you feel like you're not good enough. You're brilliant, Elliott. Truly. The most talented baker I've ever met, and she just…"
"It doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me." Elliott's voice was flat, controlled. That wall going up again, brick by brick. "I don't care about their opinions. Never have. I only care about Milly and Shay."
Julia's heart sank. Of course. Elliott didn't need her defense. Didn't need her at all, probably.
A pause stretched between them, heavy with something unspoken. Then, quieter: "And you, of course."
And that small, short sentence, was all Julia needed.
She crossed the kitchen and kissed Elliott. There was nothing else to do.
It wasn't gentle. This was hunger and relief and need. Elliott made a surprised sound against her mouth, then her hands were in Julia's hair, pulling her closer, and Julia forgot to think about anything except this.
Her fingers found the buttons of Elliott's shirt. The first slipped free, then the second. Elliott's skin was warm underneath, her heart racing against Julia's palm.
Elliott pulled back, breathing hard. "Julia. Wait."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" God, had she messed things up again?
"Why do you want this?" Elliott's voice was rough. "Why get involved with someone like me? I'm difficult. Grumpy. Hard to be with. Everyone says so."
"You're strong," Julia said. "And independent. That's not the same thing as being difficult."
"Julia—"
"I have feelings for you. Real ones. Not fake-girlfriend feelings." She held Elliott's gaze steadily. "I want you. All of you. Even the grumpy parts."
Elliott's expression shifted into something softer. Then, unexpectedly: "Tell me, are you better in bed than you are in the kitchen?"
Julia grinned. "Why don't we find out?"
Elliott laughed, warm and surprised, and pulled her toward the bedroom.
The room was small, bathed in amber evening light. Julia had spent weeks on that wretched couch, stealing glances at this space. Now she was here, and Elliott was here, and suddenly, there was nowhere in the world she’d rather be.
They stood facing each other at the foot of the bed. Elliott's fingers were sure as she slipped Julia's cardigan from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Then she worked the buttons of Julia's blouse, one by one, unhurried. Julia shivered as the fabric parted, suddenly self-conscious.
"If I’d have known, I’d have worn nicer underwear," Julia muttered, glancing down at her plain cotton bra.
"I don't care what you're wearing." Elliott pushed the blouse off Julia's shoulders. "I care what's underneath."
She reached around and unclasped Julia's bra. Julia's breath caught as the cool air hit her bare skin. But Elliott was looking at her with something like reverence, her gaze traveling slowly over Julia's body.
"You're beautiful," Elliott said.
"Flatterer."
"I don't flatter." Elliott bent her head and pressed a kiss to Julia's collarbone. "I state facts."
Her lips traced a path across Julia's chest, warm and soft.
Julia's hands went to Elliott's shirt, finishing what she'd started in the kitchen.
She pushed the fabric back, revealing lean muscle and scattered tattoos, ink she'd glimpsed but never properly seen.
A compass on her shoulder blade. Sprigs of herbs along her ribs. Stories written on skin.
"These are beautiful," Julia whispered, tracing the rosemary on Elliott's hip.
"Milly's favorite herb. Got it when I was nineteen."
Julia kissed the spot, felt Elliott's stomach muscles tense beneath her lips. She kissed her way up along the curve of Elliott's ribs, between her breasts, up the column of her throat. Elliott's head tipped back, a soft sound escaping her.
They tumbled onto the bed together, shedding the rest of their clothes in a tangle of limbs and warm skin. Julia ended up beneath Elliott, looking up at her. Elliott's dark hair fell around them like a curtain, and her eyes were soft in a way Julia had never seen before.
"Hi," Julia whispered.
"Hi yourself."
Elliott kissed her, slow and deep, taking her time. Her hands touching Julia's body with deliberate care. The curve of her waist, the dip of her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh. Julia arched into her touch, wanting more.
"Patience," Elliott murmured against her mouth.
"Don't have any."
"I've noticed."
But Elliott took her time anyway, kissing down Julia's throat, across her chest. Her mouth found Julia's breast, tongue circling slowly, teasing. Julia gasped, her fingers tangling in Elliott's hair. The sensation shot through her, heat pooling in her belly.
Elliott lavished attention on her, alternating between her breasts, teeth grazing gently, tongue soothing. Julia was already trembling, already wanting, and Elliott had barely begun.
Then Elliott shifted lower, pressing kisses to Julia's stomach, her hip, the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Julia's breath came faster, anticipation building with each brush of Elliott's lips. She could feel Elliott's breath warm against her center, tantalizingly close.
"Elliott…"
"I've got you."
And then Elliott's mouth was on her, and Julia stopped thinking entirely.
Elliott was slow at first, exploratory, her tongue tracing patterns that made Julia's hips jerk.
She was learning what made Julia gasp and shiver, cataloguing every response with the same precision she brought to her baking.
Then she found her rhythm, and Julia's world narrowed to nothing but sensation.
Elliott's tongue moved with devastating skill, circling and stroking. Julia's hands fisted in the sheets. Her hips rose to meet Elliott's mouth, chasing the pleasure building inside her.
"God, Elliott… don't… stop…"
Elliott hummed against her, and the vibration sent sparks through Julia's entire body.
One of Elliott's hands slid up to cup Julia's breast, thumb brushing her nipple in time with her tongue's movements.
The dual sensation was almost too much. Julia was trembling, climbing higher, every nerve on fire.
Elliott slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and Julia cried out. The combination of Elliott's mouth and her fingers working together was overwhelming. Julia could feel herself approaching the edge, tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her.
When she came, it was with Elliott's name on her lips, her back arching off the bed. Wave after wave of pleasure rolling through her, and Elliott stayed with her through all of it, gentling her touches as Julia slowly came back to herself.
She lay there for a moment, breathing hard, feeling like she'd been unmade and remade. Her whole body tingling.
"Definitely better than your baking," Elliott said, pressing a kiss to Julia's hip.
Julia laughed breathlessly. "I haven’t done anything yet."
"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
But Julia didn't want to wait. She wanted to make Elliott feel as undone as she did.
She pulled Elliott up and rolled them over, settling above her. Elliott looked up with dark eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her usual composure was already cracking at the edges. Julia kissed her, tasting herself on Elliott's lips, and felt Elliott shiver beneath her.
"My turn," Julia murmured.
She explored Elliott's body with hands and mouth, learning every response. Elliott was sensitive just below her ear, a kiss there made her breath catch. The inside of her wrist made her pulse jump. The curve where her neck met her shoulder made her grip Julia's hips hard enough to leave marks.
Julia kissed down Elliott's body, taking her time. She traced the tattoos with her tongue, feeling the muscles in Elliott's stomach clench as she moved lower. Elliott was trying to stay controlled, Julia could tell. Trying to keep quiet, keep composed.
Julia was determined to undo that completely.
She settled between Elliott's thighs, looking up at her. Elliott's eyes were dark, wanting, her lips parted. Julia held her gaze as she lowered her mouth.
Elliott made a sound that went straight through Julia, a broken moan that she clearly hadn't meant to let escape. Julia smiled against her and set to work properly.
She learned that Elliott liked it slow at first, liked the teasing build. She learned that a gentle scrape of teeth made Elliott's thighs tremble. She learned that when she slipped her fingers inside and curled them just so, Elliott stopped trying to be quiet entirely.
"Julia… God… right there…"
Julia kept the rhythm, her tongue and fingers working together.
Elliott's hand tangled in her hair, not guiding, just holding on.
Her hips moved against Julia's mouth, desperate now, all composure abandoned.
She was making sounds Julia wanted to hear again and again.
She increased the pressure of her tongue, relentless now, pushing Elliott higher.
When Elliott came, she was anything but quiet. She cried out Julia's name, her whole body shuddering, inner muscles clenching around Julia's fingers. Julia worked her through every wave of it until Elliott finally collapsed back against the pillows, boneless and breathing hard.
Julia kissed her way back up Elliott's body and settled beside her. Elliott's eyes were closed, her skin flushed, her expression utterly unguarded. She looked beautiful.
"Well," Elliott said finally, without opening her eyes. "That was acceptable."
"Acceptable?" Julia laughed. "I made you scream."
"I did not scream."
"The neighbors might disagree."
Elliott opened one eye, her mouth twitching. "Fine. Better than acceptable. Much better." She pulled Julia closer. "Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late."
They lay tangled together as the evening light faded to dusk. Julia's head rested on Elliott's shoulder, their legs intertwined, skin cooling in the quiet air. She could feel Elliott's heartbeat gradually slowing beneath her cheek.
"I meant what I said," Julia murmured. "About having real feelings."
Elliott's arm tightened around her. "I know. I believe you."
"And you? Um, feelings?" She was pushing the issue, but she had to, this was the only chance she might get to see Elliott open and relaxed and… natural.
A pause. Then: "I don't do this. Let people in. Share my bed or my space or any of it." Elliott's voice was quiet, vulnerable. "But with you, I want to." She cleared her throat. "It’s terrifying."
"Good terrifying?"
Elliott snorted a laugh. "The best terrifying."
Julia smiled and pressed a kiss to Elliott's shoulder. Outside, the church bells chimed the hour. The cake sat forgotten on the kitchen counter, and Julia couldn't bring herself to care.
This was exactly where she wanted to be. Where she thought she’d always wanted to be, she’d just never known before truly what she wanted. Who’d have thought it would be a grumpy, tattooed baker with commitment issues?