Accidentally Bound: An Accidental Marriage Romance, page 4
“We were not! There was no eye f-…nothing going on. At all.” I glared at Magenta, who just shrugged, completely unconcerned by my discomfort.
“Hey,” she pointed at Vivi. “Still thinking about the ink?”
Vivi nodded. “I loved the drawing, but I need to think on it a while.”
“Take your time. It’s pretty permanent, and deserves a long thought.” That’s what I liked about Magenta. Most of the time she seemed bold and brash, impulsive, but she was thoughtful. She kept a lot to herself, something I understood well.
She perked up and looked at me, and then back to the rest of the table. “Did Trish tell you that she’s been asked to make the wedding cake for Kerry Manes and Crosby?”
Maddie and Vivi responded just as I knew they would, with loud, squealing congratulations. “Oh my god, how did you swing that?”
I gave them a quick replay of the superstar duo stopping into La Belle Bean. “She liked my creations, and had Mason ask me to do the wedding cake, along with cupcake towers for their engagement party.” Even though I played it down, I was very proud of landing this. Not that I had any plans of becoming the next Martha Stewart or Rachael Ray, but this was a nice a gig that I hoped would at least lead to bigger jobs locally.
“In Vegas. She’s going to a party thrown by a rock star. In Vegas. And she’s acting like it’s no big deal.” Magenta gave me a look like she felt sorry for me, placing a placating hand on my shoulder. “So jaded, little one.” she joked.
“Vegas is the perfect place to break your dry spell,” Vivi said. “And give me all the details. Maybe I’ll do a sexy Vegas one night stand story with you as the heroine.”
I groaned and dropped my face to my hands. “Why me?”
“Why you what exactly?” That deep voice was determined to be the death of me. I froze, refusing to look up until all the heat had left my face.
“Oh, would you look at the time.” I moved to stand, trying to slide out of the booth, but Magenta was stronger than she looked. “I should get going.”
“But you haven’t even gotten your food yet,” Vivi added.
“I’ll have them wrap it to go,” I told her through clenched teeth.
“Nonsense,” Maddie insisted. “Zeke’s food is best when warm.”
I snorted. “It’ll stay warm in the two-block walk back to my shop.” Why in the hell were they all ganging up on me? Didn’t they know Mason and I were like oil and water?
“What’s the hurry?”
I sent a narrow-eyed gaze at Magenta’s smiling face. “It’s called work, maybe y’all should try it sometime.” Without warning, my gaze was pulled to Mason’s smiling green eyes, and I felt my nipples tighten at the heat in his gaze. Unable to look away.
“Nice ponytail,” he said in a mocking tone.
My whole body went stiff and my gaze hardened, his words more effective than a bucket of ice water at dousing my arousal. “It’s a good thing nobody asked your opinion.”
“You’re welcome anyway.” Arms crossed with that assessing gaze on his face, I fought the urge to toss my soda at his face.
“Next time I want your opinion, I’ll ask. Until then, keep your thoughts to yourself.”
Mason bent over and got in my face. “That’s not very nice of you, Cupcake.”
“Don’t call me Cupcake!”
“But you’re so sweet, and cute,” he said and tapped the tip of my nose. “Like a cupcake.” I sucked in an outraged breath when he winked at me.
“Well, you’re so full of shit I’m surprised your eyes aren’t brown.”
His green eyes sparkled with amusement, they were damn near laughing. At me, not with me. “Aww, you’ve been paying attention to my eye color?”
I nodded and pushed up so I was half-standing. “Only because I’ve daydreamed many times about stabbing you in the eye balls!”
Mason blinked and stepped back, eyes still laughing, damn him. “Daydreaming about me too? Careful Trish, or I might think you have a crush.” With those parting words he winked, and sidled up to the bar.
A low growl escaped from me and I stared at my so-called friends. “Thanks a lot, ladies.”
Magenta held up her hands in surrender. “He’s my brother, what can I do?”
“Give him hell, like you always do!”
Maddie laughed, fanning her face with her hand. “That was so hot, I might have to stop and see Zeke before I head back to the shop.”
Vivi snorted, but nodded her agreement. “Yep! I’ll try to remember it later when I retire to my writing cave.”
“Spill,” Maddie insisted, gesturing with her hand for me to offer up details I didn’t have.
“Nothing to spill. Mason is a jerk and he goes out of his way to be mean to me.” It was a new experience to have someone not like me. Everyone liked me. Everyone but Mason.
“That’s because he likes you,” Magenta insisted, but I shook my head, refusing to succumb to that logic.
“Nope. That’s a lie.” My phone beeped on the table and I groaned as I stared at my uneaten lunch. “And now I really have to get back to the shop. Enjoy my food,” I groaned and forcefully pushed Magenta with my hips.
“Don’t be mad,” Magenta urged, her tone laced with sympathy.
“I’m not,” I insisted but my angry tone made a liar out of me.
Vivi sighed, and put a hand on mine. “Would it be so bad if Mason liked you?”
“It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t. And I don’t like him either!” I slipped my hand from Vivi’s and walked away, ignoring the sounds of their hushed voices as I left Zeke’s Joint.
I had cake samples to finish, and cupcakes to decorate. Nothing, especially not some sexy tattoo artist, would distract me.
* * *
As exhausted as I was by nonstop baking, and quick conversations with Kerry between takes while she was on set in Canada, I was just as excited about my first ride in a private plane. I’d never even flown first class on the few occasions I traveled outside of Louisiana, and now I had an entire plane to myself.
I unloaded the cupcakes along with my backup tools just in case any last minute retouches were required, smiling at the helpful attendant.
“Crosby requested a special shelving unit, I’ll show you to it.” The young man with deep brown eyes smiled and guided me onto the plane. Once each of the boxes of cupcakes was secured, I took my time to soak up the atmosphere of the jet. The private jet.
“This is great, thank you James.” He smiled again, and disappeared in the way that staff for the rich often did, at least from what I’d seen on television, anyway. The jet was magnificent, exactly what you’d expect of a rock star. There were no muted colors to be found, just black and red upholstery with silver embellishments as far as the eye could see. The headrest on each seat bore the intricately sewn cursive initials for his band, Hard Five.
“Like what you see?”
You have got to be kidding me! I turned slowly, hoping the sound was just a sleep deprived delusion. But it wasn’t. Dressed in his standard uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, gray this time, sat Mason. Looking as good as he was annoying. “What are you doing here?”
Chestnut brows dipped into a frown. “My friend is having an engagement part, where the hell else would I be Trish?”
The truth was I never really thought about it, just assumed Crosby was a client and nothing more.
“Right.” Well I wouldn’t let his presence ruin this experience for me. After double checking that the cupcakes were secure again, I chose a seat as far away from Mason as I could, setting my gaze on the details of the plane as it prepared for takeoff.
“You gonna ignore me the entire flight, Cupcake?”
I hated that damn nickname, but I refused to show it. I ignored him and pulled out my e-reader, getting lost in the fictional world of bad boy Deacon and his lady love Muriel.
“What kind of cupcakes did you bring?” His voice held laughter which only made me more determined to ignore him.
At least Deacon and Muriel generated a ton of steam, because though the story was well-written, it was unbelievable. Bad boys did what they wanted, said what they wanted and didn’t give a damn about anyone else. They didn’t care about the sweet girl next door whose heart they were bound to break with false promises and steamy nights that felt like more.
“Did you bring any extras? Maybe I should sample them, make sure they’re fit for such a famous crowd.”
Asshole. I looked up with a glare to find his smiling face and returned to my book without any response.
Thankfully the jerk managed to keep quiet for a full hour before he started up again. “Why are you being so quiet?” He snorted a laugh at my continued silence. “You look tired.”
“Screw you!” I hated that I let him get to me, but he really got under my skin in a way no one had since high school. Determined to pretend he was invisible, I returned to my book, determined to get lost in the story no matter what else Mason said. No insult or joke at my expense would deter me from my world of fiction. Deacon’s story was the perfect reminder of why I had to ignore my attraction to Mason. He was exactly the same, and no combination of love and understanding would heal whatever made him unable or unwilling to commit. Guys like that didn’t change, and even if they did, I had no desire to be the one to force the change.
Somewhere over Texas I finished my romance, snorting at how quickly the hero turned around for Muriel, while admitting to myself that their happy ending was a sweet one.
“Something funny?”
“Yep. Fiction,” And that was all I was going to disclose, because there was no way in hell I’d tell him what I was reading.
“Care to share?”
“Not even a little bit.” He smirked and I returned to my e-reader, going for something a bit more realistic this time with a tortured billionaire with a heart of gold romance. It was engaging and so steamy, I had to cross my legs in some parts. By the time the plane landed in Vegas, I needed a cold shower, a nap and maybe a few hours poolside.
After Kerry and I spoke about her wedding cake.
Her four layer wedding cake. For the who’s who of the celebrity world.
No pressure.
Mason
Crosby and Kerry’s engagement party, no engagement rager, was off the hook.
It started a few hours ago with an upscale gourmet dinner at one of those restaurants where the plates were more like art than food. But in all fairness, every bite had been delicious. Crosby’s band members were all in attendance, in various states of inebriation, which meant there were groupies galore. A few too many for my taste, and judging by the scowl she wore during the first half of the evening, too many for Kerry’s too.
But once we all poured out of the reserved room in the back of the restaurant, we headed to a nightclub that only someone with Crosby’s star power could reserve for a whole evening. Sin Is In was as hot as the name itself, with two levels of dance floors complete with cages hanging from the ceiling, plus a patio entrance that led to a heated pool with colored lights. Perfect for the underwater shenanigans already taking place, and we’d only been here for an hour.
“Any word from Trish?” Kerry slammed into my side in her effort to sidestep a pair of gyrating groupies who were putting on a show for the Hard Five drummer, Paddy.
“I didn’t realize you invited her.” Based on the frown she sent my way, I guess I should have.
She smacked my arm. “Of course I did, you jerk! She said she would try to make it, I thought for sure she’d show up.” Kerry’s pretty face twisted into a frown as she scanned the party again in search of Trish.
I didn’t bother telling her that I wasn’t surprised at all that Trish didn’t show. She wasn’t much of a partier as far as I could tell, and partying with musicians seemed a bit too wild for her. This was definitely not a party for good girls. Crosby drank and smoked a lot of pot, but his bandmates and their hordes of women indulged in everything from coke to orgies, much of which was already happening, and the night had barely gotten started.
“This might be too much for Trish.”
“Judgmental, much?” Kerry glared at me, then shook her head in disgust before a shocked gasp left her mouth. “Damn!” I felt Kerry’s gaze on me, taking in my reaction to the woman in red. And I couldn’t hide it even if I wanted to.
Trish was hot. No, she was more than hot in a skintight red dress, she was goddamn breathtaking. The dress showed every dip and curve she tried to hide behind those little khaki and denim skirts and shapeless tops she usually wore. The kindergarten teacher clothes were gone, replaced by a sensual woman who knew her worth and dared any man to question it. The dress was low cut offering up more than an eyeful of creamy cleavage, and it stopped a few inches above her knees, making her legs look endless.
My cock stood at attention, thinking about those legs wrapped around my waist. My neck, while I buried my tongue deep inside her wet little pussy. And the little details, the delicate chain around her ankle and the cuff on her arm, made a sexy little package that had my dick pressing uncomfortably against my zipper.
She looked unsure as her gaze took in the party and the scantily clad women who showed off their bodies with ease. Trish found her smile when she spotted Kerry and waved. “What a great party,” she said breathlessly and wrapped Kerry in a hug. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks, Trish. You look…super fuckin’ hot in that dress, girl!”
She blushed prettily and, yep, my cock grew even harder in my pants. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but it looks like I made a good choice,” she said, once again looking around at all the X-rated fun happening poolside.
“Who knew you’d clean up so well?”
Kerry slugged my arm. Hard. “Don’t be such an asshole, Mase!”
“He can’t help it,” Trish told her with a sad smile. “I think I’ll go find a drink.” She barely looked my way before sashaying off, oblivious to all the male eyes taking in those traffic-stopping curves.
“What is your problem?” The anger in Kerry’s tone was real. “Why are you being such a jerk to her?”
“It’s fun.” I shrugged and hid my guilt inside another glass of scotch. Trish looked hot, too hot tonight, and I hadn’t been able to resist. But the hurt in her eyes wasn’t what I wanted.
“You’re an asshole,” she said once again and stormed off in search of her fiancé.
I was an asshole and I owed Trish an apology, which she would get. Later. When I had more booze in me. Until then I found a spot near the bar so I could watch to see how the good girl partied. At first, Trish did exactly what I thought she would, nursed a drink by herself. But soon the sharks smelled blood in the water and they circled, flirting with her and offering her drinks. Making her smile. And worse, making her laugh, but it wasn’t that polite fake laugh she used with her customers and the old biddies in town. No, this was a loud laugh, deep and husky. The laugh of a woman who knew how to have a good time.
Eventually a few bold ones asked her to dance, and I grinned in anticipation of the inevitable rejection. But once again Trish shocked the shit out of me and accepted dance after dance, shaking her fine ass.
I wanted to intervene when Paddy pulled her too close, but she gripped his upper arms and that sexy smile never left her face. She was enjoying it. Enjoying him. With shaggy silver hair and a perma-tan, he wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good looking dude, but Trish was enthralled by him.
Fucking celebrities.
“It’s a fucking party, man. At least pretend like you’re having a good time.” Crosby snuck up on me and smacked my back. “I have a rep to protect.”
I snorted at that, my gaze still trained on Trish. “Your rep was shot the minute you became a one-woman man.”
“Worth it.” His gaze followed mine, and a low laugh escaped. “Maybe you’re not too far off, my friend. You can’t seem to take your eyes off the pretty little baker.”
I snorted. “Just making sure she’s all right.”
“Seems to be having a good time,” he said with amusement ringing in his voice. “Unlike you.”
After her third dance with Paddy, Trish kissed his cheek and gave him a long hug before waving him off and heading back inside. Probably going back to her room to read. “I’m having fun,” I told him, clearly distracted.
“Maybe. But why don’t you go make sure she makes it to her room safely.”
My feet were already moving before Crosby had finished speaking. I kept my distance, curious to see what she would do, where she would be. “Hey, Mase. Where ya been?”
I looked down at the busty redhead I’d shared a few nights of fun with more than a few years back and smiled. “Hey Cindi. I’ve been around, but I have to go right now.” My gaze scanned the dark club interior in search of the red dress, but Trish had disappeared.
“I’m in room 1706,” she whispered in my ear, pressing big fake tits against me, which sadly had no affect since my cock had someone else on the brain.
By the time I made it out of the club, Trish was gone. She could have already been in one of the elevator cars, but several people still lingered and looked like they’d been waiting awhile, so I turned left and caught a flash of red. There she was, perched on a stool inside the hotel bar. Like a cliché.
Slowly, I made my way over. Her legs were crossed with one elbow leaning against the bar, a dirty martini in a chilled glass in front of her. Looking like a wet dream from a long-ago time.
“Hey.” I hated the way she tensed at the sound of my voice. “I’m really sorry, Trish. I can’t seem to stop being an ass around you.”
She took her time responding, to the point I thought she might ignore me the way she’d done on the plane. Finally, she turned, big blue eyes a little glassy from the booze.
“Yeah well, you don’t try all that hard.”
“It’s true,” I admitted. “But it’s only because you look so cute when you’re pissed off.”
“Cute,” she snorted, repeating the word like I’d called her ugly. “Another, please.” She waved the bartender down and motioned to her glass.
