40 and (Tired of) Faking It, page 6
In that instant JD’s mind filtered back twenty years. Rebecca had agreed to marry him his junior year at Columbia. He could still remember the burst of excitement her yes had ignited in his chest. A wedding before a judge, a honeymoon in a less-than-five-star New York hotel, and they’d both returned to school. Deliriously in love.
And yet, over the years, that love had been subsumed by his career. An internship his senior year. A position in a top investment firm immediately after graduating with his MBA. Long hours working his way up. How many times had he walked down the street with his wife, his mind on his work while she tried to grab his attention with her words and her touch?
He was still ashamed to admit he couldn’t remember walking down the street together all that often.
When Rebecca got tired of waiting around for him to give work a break and give her attention, he’d learned his lesson. Give women the attention they deserved, but don’t allow them too far in. It was a rule he’d kept even through his early retirement at forty, when he’d left a highly lucrative career to start his real estate firm. Now, nearly a decade later, he found himself wondering if all that work had been worth what he’d given up to have it.
And yet, mere days ago when he’d let Alicia go, he hadn’t had a single regret or doubt.
Whoever had the man’s attention came into view, crossing Main Street in front of the coffee shop. JD recognized him from the courthouse day before yesterday, the one who’d accosted Lily on their way out. What was his name? Right, Dwayne Prescott. And then it clicked. The couple seemed familiar because he’d seen their faces on the planning commission website. He couldn’t remember their names off the top of his head, but their faces, he remembered.
Even knowing a little schmoozing was always a good thing, JD would rather avoid another conversation with Prescott, but it didn’t look like that was going to be possible as the trio turned together to enter Wildwoods Brew.
The tiny bell above the door made a tinkling sound as they entered. Maria came out from the back, her gaze flowing over him, assessing any possible needs, before latching on to the newcomers. He saw his internal grimace reflected on her face as Prescott approached the counter to place his order. The second man—the husband, he saw now, given the dull glow of the wedding ring on his finger—also gave his order before the two moved away from the register, leaving the woman to follow up.
The two men surveyed the room for a seat. Prescott’s gaze met JD’s. He gave a jovial wave and headed in JD’s direction.
Time for the board of director’s face.
As the two men approached, JD held out his hand. “Nice to see you again, Prescott.”
“And you!” The man’s voice boomed in the nearly empty shop, overtaking the space. “Let me introduce you to Kirk Daniels. We’re both on the planning commission I believe you intend to speak to next week.”
“News travels fast.”
JD shook the second man’s hand. The two made themselves comfortable in the armchairs across from JD’s couch.
“Nothing like the gossip line in a small town,” Daniels agreed. “You must have an awfully big project if it makes this much of a ripple in Black Wolf’s Bluff.”
“Must be something to do with your grandmother’s property, eh?” Prescott added.
JD opened his mouth to answer, but the woman approached at just that moment, her hands full with three large drinks. When neither man made a move to assist, JD stood. “Here, let me help you.” He took one of the drinks, allowing her to hand the other two to the men before he passed hers back.
JD offered her his seat on the couch and pulled over a chair from one of the tables, ignoring the men’s protests. Had it not been for the two men’s positions in town, he would’ve corrected their rudeness toward a woman, but instead he kept his mouth shut and did his best to make it up to her with a warm smile. “JD Lane.”
The woman’s return smile creased the corners of her eyes. “Iris Daniels. I’m head librarian at the Bluff’s library.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Iris is also on the planning commission.” The arch tone told JD that Prescott was informing him he had three people to persuade.
JD gave a mental shrug, not worried. “I plan to present a proposal for a new ski resort up on the mountain.”
Exclamations came from all around, and the men peppered him with questions. JD noticed that the woman was quiet, but she wasn’t ignoring them. Her gaze was intent, observant, absorbing everything that was said and, he had no doubt, drawing her own conclusions as to the benefits and drawbacks of his plans.
He endured the interrogation for ten minutes before Lily came through the door. He stood, giving the men and then Iris a polite nod. “If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Easton and I have business.”
“Exactly what kind of business?”
JD ignored Prescott’s question as if he hadn’t heard it, moving quickly toward Lily and escape.
“Slow down,” she murmured as she turned her face away from the trio by the couch. “You’re looking a bit desperate.”
He couldn’t help laughing at her warning. “Good to know, because I am.”
“Then I get a thanks for rescuing you?”
There were so many ways he wanted to thank her, but none of them would be appropriate to mention now. “Remind me and I’ll give you my thanks later,” he said with a wink.
That lovely pink blush rose to her cheeks, and he savored the sight as he settled his hand on her lower back and guided her through the coffee shop into Gimme Sugar.
Entering the room was like walking into a cocoon of bread- and sweets-scented air. He drew the aroma deep into his lungs, savoring it, and noticed Lily doing the same. Her eyes were closed, a deep hunger on her face. Would she have that look for anything other than desserts? In his bed, maybe? With his tongue on her? His—
He broke off the thought, but not before it hardened his body in a rush. He was only faintly surprised by the reaction at this point. He’d always been in control of his attraction, no matter how ripe the woman was. But his attraction to Lily? She undermined his defenses so quickly, so easily that his control was beginning to get a bit ragged.
“Claire!” Lily called.
Her friend entered from the back of the bakery, tucking stray corkscrew curls back under the wide band holding her hair back. “I’m here; I’m here. Don’t throw a hissy fit.” She lifted her well-used apron over her head, balled it up, and pushed it behind her back, breath a bit heavy. “I’m ready.”
JD chuckled. “Relax. I’m not here to judge you, Claire.”
“Well of course you are,” she said, shaking her head. “You have to be to find the right resources for your resort. Nervousness is just my MO.”
Lily was nodding her head. “It doesn’t matter how fantastic she is or how we rave over her creations; she’s still nervous every single time.”
“Please don’t be on my account. I’m just looking forward to tasting some sweets. My friend Linc has no problem outing me as having a terrible sweet tooth.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Claire said with a bright smile.
Just then DeeDee entered from the coffee shop and moved behind the bakery’s counter. “I’m all set, Claire. You guys go on.”
Claire led them to the back of the bakery, through a kitchen JD could tell she put to good use, and into an office with a battered desk and a high-top table that had seen better days. She directed them to sit in the barstools before taking the one closest to the door. “Tell me a little about what you think you’ll need,” she began.
JD explained the basic concept of the resort, elaborating on the large need for essentials when it came to the lodge. The restaurant, with its more high-end offerings, would come afterward, along with the brewery. “My friend Lincoln is an executive chef in New York at —”
Claire held up a hand. “Wait. You don’t mean Lincoln Young?”
It was an unusual name. “Yes.”
“The Lincoln Young.”
Lily was staring between the two of them, a vee of confusion between her brows, taking in Claire’s near panic and JD’s calm shrug.
“You mean Lincoln Young, winner of the James Beard Rising Star Chef of the Year Award and Best New Restaurant the first year he was in business? The Lincoln Young who is a regular contributor to Gatronomica? That Lincoln Young is coming here, to Black Wolf’s Bluff, to oversee the establishment of your resort and restaurant?”
JD noticed her hand, still hanging in the air, was shaking. “Yes, actually. I take it you know of him.”
“Um”—Claire’s eyes bugged—“yeah! Is there a chef or a baker worth their salt who doesn’t?”
JD lifted his hands and shrugged. “No idea. I just know we practically grew up together. That’s all.”
Lily gripped Claire’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Stop worrying. There is absolutely nothing for you to be worried about.”
Claire shook her head, her laugh strained. “Oh, you have no idea.”
There was a pregnant pause as he—and Lily as well, if he was reading her wide-eyed expression right—waited for Claire to elaborate, but she didn’t. Instead she seemed to gather herself, squaring her shoulders, and stood. “At any rate, I have desserts that need to be eaten, so how about it?”
JD gave her what was hopefully an encouraging look. “I can’t wait.” After Claire left the room, he glanced at Lily. “I apologize for taking her off guard.”
“Don’t,” Lily said. “I have no idea what that was all about, but…” She shrugged. “Claire tends to get on edge when she feels she might be judged. She might love baking, but she’s never had a true insight into how good she is. But I do,” she assured him, “and you’re gonna love this.”
Nine
JD’s cologne was a mix of citrus and what Lily thought for a moment was sweet tobacco, similar to the scent she remembered surrounding her grandfather when she was a young girl and he still smoked a pipe. But JD didn’t remind her of her grandfather, not even in the slightest. He was too sexy, too warm, too firm where he pressed against her on one side of the tiny bistro table in Claire’s office. Lily held still, held her breath, willing herself to ignore the unignorable. All that succeeded in doing was making her more aware of every move he made.
The silence between them pulsed with something she couldn’t quite name, but whatever it was, it had her squeezing her thighs together hard. JD glanced down at the move, and she heard his sharp inhale just as Claire returned from the kitchen.
“We’ll start with the traditional opera torte,” Claire said, carrying a dessert plate that held a small rectangular piece of the dessert. A smear of dark chocolate sauce, a sprig of something green, and a rosette of what looked like whipped cream gave the plate a modern look that made Lily want to Instagram it. “This is a classic almond sponge soaked in coffee syrup, coffee buttercream, chocolate ganache, and a chocolate glaze.”
The smell of coffee and chocolate nearly overtook JD’s scent, and the two together had Lily’s mouth watering. “Lord, Claire, that smells good.”
Her friend’s gaze dropped to the floor. “It’s one of my favorites. I hope you like it, JD.”
He was already picking up the single fork laid out on the plate. “Oh, I have no doubt about that whatsoever.”
He sank the fork into the cake, breaking through layer after layer of fluffy goodness, until the fork was loaded and he brought it to his mouth. The look on his face when the dessert touched his tongue was almost more than Lily could take—pleasure and greed and wonder all mixed into one.
Somehow she just knew he’d look like that during sex too.
And JD confirmed it when a low moan left his lips, as if he felt something he almost couldn’t bear. The image of herself on her knees, in front of him, her fingers drawing down his zipper, shocked Lily to her core, and she realized she wanted that vision to come true more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.
JD went for another bite.
She might not make it through this.
“This is phenomenal, Claire. So light, even with the dark chocolate.”
Claire’s tawny cheeks darkened with delight. “You enjoy it. I’ll be back with the next plate in just a moment.”
JD put the second bite in his mouth, savoring this one almost as much as the first. Only when he swallowed did he seem to realize Lily was missing out.
“You don’t have a plate.”
Lily shook her head. “No. Claire knows I’m always watching myself when it comes to desserts—one bite and I’ll gobble it all up.”
A frown creased JD’s brow. “Do you enjoy sweets?”
“Far, far too much,” she admitted, feeling herself blush as if she were admitting her deepest secret. Or maybe it was the fantasy still lingering in the back of her mind heating her cheeks.
Resolve firmed JD’s expression. “Then share with me and we’ll both half our temptation.”
Lily watched him fork up another bite, but she didn’t think temptation would be cut in half at all. No. The second he lifted the fork to her lips, temptation soared instead.
“Do you mind sharing?” he asked her. The bite waited at her lips, almost touching.
When she’d really like to share so much more than a fork, a dessert? “No,” she croaked. And opened her mouth.
JD slid the fork inside, his eyes electric as they zeroed in on her mouth. She closed her lips around the torte as he eased the fork back. That moan that JD had released was repeated in the back of her throat. And something feral came over his face.
“Good?” he asked, the word hoarse.
She swallowed. “So good.” Her words were no more than a whisper.
His eyes held her captive. “How about another bite?”
Talking was beyond her, so she simply nodded. JD repeated the process, and Lily thought she might go up in flames. Only Claire’s return kept her from begging JD to kiss her.
Claire glanced at the half-eaten torte, then at Lily licking her lips. Her brown eyes went a little wide. “Um, how about something a little different,” she asked, tearing her focus away from Lily and onto the man she was supposed to impress, but not before a tiny smirk touched her lips. Lily took the moment of distraction to compose herself. Or tried to, anyway.
“This is a lemon pound cake with vanilla bean chantilly cream and candied figs.”
“I love lemon,” JD said, reaching for the plate greedily. He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Lily imagined him doing the same thing with his nose buried in her neck. “Beautiful,” he said.
Lily closed her eyes tight. Get yourself together, Lil!
JD combined a piece of fig, the cream, and a bite of pound cake onto the fork, holding it out for her. “Try it.”
Lily shook her head. “The first bite is yours.”
JD grinned, that sexy dimple making an appearance. “I usually prefer it that way.”
As he ate the bite of pound cake, she had the distinct impression that he was not talking about dessert.
“Claire, God.” JD finished his bite and forked up another. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“I went to the Institute of Culinary Education in New York.”
“You were obviously a star pupil.” JD offered the bite to Lily. The taste of lemon and vanilla burst over her tongue, but she forced back the moan this time. Much more of that and she’d combust.
“I’m glad you’re pleased.” The pride infusing Claire’s voice touched Lily’s heart. “Any of these desserts can be produced in bulk for the restaurant to serve. I’m already fulfilling bulk ordering for a couple of restaurants in Gatlinburg, though those are more traditional desserts—cheesecake, pies, basic cakes—and I provide breakfast pastries to a handful of hotels in the area.”
“That could definitely come in handy at the lodge.” JD took another bite.
Claire met Lily’s eyes, her own sparkling with achievement. Lily gave her a discreet thumbs-up.
Claire tapped the table lightly. “I’ll be right back.”
“Here.” JD held up another bite of the pound cake, brushing Lily’s lips. She took the bite, watching in fascination as he raised his other hand, his thumb coming up to glide along the edge of her mouth.
“Cream.” He smirked, then licked the white fluff from his skin.
She needed to get out of here. Professional, remember. You’re a professional. Stop fantasizing about—
God, was she fantasizing, mostly about JD closing and locking the door, laying Lily out on this tiny table, and feasting on something that had nothing to do with food.
JD took one more bite before Claire returned, this time with a cranberry ricotta rosemary tart. “The candied ginger chiffonade is the perfect contrast to the sweetness of the cranberries and the savory rosemary,” Claire explained.
“I admit I’ve never had a dessert with rosemary in it.” JD shrugged. “After your first two desserts, I’m game for anything that comes out of your kitchen.”
Claire laughed, seeming pleased at the compliment, as JD broke off the corner of the tart and gathered the bite to bring to his mouth. Another one of those full-body moans left him. “Really, you have to try this, Lily.”
He raised a bite to her lips. The flaky tart crust held a buttery flavor that mixed with the slightly sweet ricotta cream and the sour berries. Spice hit her tongue—the candied ginger. “Oh my Lord, Claire, where have you been hiding this thing?”
“This one’s definitely different, something I’ve been working on for the holidays.”
