The Sweetest Fix Page 6

  “Enough,” Leo said, shaking a little more feed into the slot and setting the bag down at his feet. “I used to come here after school to wait for my father to finish working so we could go home. Around the time I started hearing eight-counts in my sleep, Minh had pity on me. Brought me up to the roof and introduced me to the crew. I started feeding the pigeons, instead of watching rehearsals.” Leo shot her a wry look. “You hate me a little bit for that, don’t you?”

  She pinched her index finger and thumb together. “Just a smidge.”

  His chest rumbled.

  Unable to shake her smile, Reese leaned back against the perimeter wall of the roof and let out a gusty sigh. “This feels like a scene from Rent. I’m a long way from Cedarburg, Wisconsin.”

  “Should I pretend I didn’t already nail you for Wisconsin with that accent?”

  “How soon could you tell?”

  “Before I walked into the front of the bakery.”

  Her gasp was exaggerated. “And you picked a cherry bomb over the cheese Danish?”

  “Come on, now. That would have been a little on the nose.”

  Reese wasn’t aware of how long they smiled at each other. Not until Minh cleared his throat and broke the spell. “Lock up for me, would you, Leo? We have a concessions shipment arriving and I need to let them in.”

  “Will do,” Leo said, without taking his eyes off Reese.

  A moment later, the elevator doors slapped shut and they were alone on the roof.

  Leo stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered toward her, taking a spot beside her at the edge of the roof. “So. You’re a long way from home. How long have you been in the city?”

  Her smile wavered, the reminder of her lies of omission twisting bolts on the sides of her throat. “Oh, not long.” She turned and propped her arms on the wall, looking out over the city blocks. “I wish my mother could see this.”

  “You said she owns a dancing school. Was she your teacher?”

  “When I was little, yes. Around age ten, she thought I needed something a little more advanced.” She gave him a prim look. “It paid off, too, don’t you know? You might remember me from a certain national Red Rover Yogurt commercial.”

  He turned slightly, squinting an eye at her. “Wait a minute. No way.”

  Reese pushed off the wall and performed the soft shoe routine she’d done thousands of times—mostly as a party trick—since the age of eleven. “No preservatives or chemicals, we’ve got your all-natural meals,” she sang, “Choose Red Rover products and kick up your heels.”

  “Holy shit.” He stared at her, dumbfounded. “The audacity of me to ask out a celebrity.”

  “Please.” She fluffed her hair. “I put my pants on one leg at a time like everyone else.”

  They seemed to gravitate toward each other naturally, as if there was no other option, until their faces were a handful of inches apart. “How about those shorts?” he said gruffly. “You get those on the same way?”

  A hot, fizzy stream of awareness circled and danced in her midsection. This was flirting. But not the kind she was used to. Where she worried about every line out of her mouth, worrying they would come across too desperate. Or if the guy would think she was funny. No, it was easy as breathing to pull back the edge of her coat, drawing his attention downward. “What? These old things?”

  “Yeah.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Those.”

  She leaned in like they were sharing a secret and watched his eyes darken. “I have to wiggle around a little to get these on.”

  They exhaled into each other’s space, not bothering to hide the fact that both of them were breathing faster. “Damn, Reese.”

  There was a wealth of meaning in those two words. Not just, damn, you look good in those shorts. But damn, this attraction between them was not typical. “I know,” she said in a rush, their mouths almost touching. She wasn’t sure what made her pull away before he could close the distance for a kiss. Maybe it was to gather her wits or a tug from her conscience. But she took a long pull of February air to perform maintenance on her short-circuiting brain. “So, um…” She resisted the urge to fan herself. “How long have you owned the bakery?”

  With his own centering breath, Leo slowly settled back in a safe distance away. “Four years,” he said, voice gravelly. “Took me a while after culinary school to build the capital and find the right people. The right place. Didn’t want to rush it.”

  “Capital?” Her question hung in the air for several seconds before she realized what a stupid assumption she’d made. “Forget I said that. I just…I thought with your father being who he is…”

  “That I would have an automatic investor?” He shrugged a shoulder. “Natural to assume that. Don’t worry about it.” There was an assessing glance in her direction, as if he wasn’t sure whether to say more. She held her breath, hoping he would. “I guess it didn’t feel right taking money for something he doesn’t have a real interest in. Baking. I’m not saying he’s unsupportive. We’re just about different things. Felt better doing it on my own.”

  “That’s admirable.” She wanted to tell him how much she could relate. Currently. Trying to grasp something that felt just within reach, refusing any shortcuts. How it could feel scary and unfair one minute, rewarding the next. “And I guess you found the right people. Jackie and Tad.”

  Warmth moved in his expression. “Yeah. Tad was actually an usher downstairs when I met him. We interviewed Jackie together. She’d just dropped out of nursing school because the emotional toll was more than she expected.”

  “So she went for the exact opposite.”

  “Only for a while. I doubt she’ll be at the Cookie Jar forever. But I’ll be glad to have her as long as she puts up with my grumpy ass.”

  “You’re not coming across as grumpy as you did Saturday night.”

  “That’s because I’m trying to charm you into going out with me. Is it working?”

  Her laugh drifted out over the rooftops. “Maybe. How long until the grump returns?”

  “I skipped lunch. So…imminently.”

  God, she couldn’t remember smiling this much when it wasn’t for the sake of a performance. The conversation was light and carefree, but there was a weight in her belly that continue to pull down, down, with every word. Like her body knew they might be skimming along the surface of the getting to know you phase, but it was headed somewhere else. Somewhere deeper. And once again, their bodies seem to magnetize and draw them together until Reese’s hip met the outside of Leo’s thigh.

  When his arm slowly draped across her shoulders and eased her close, tucking her into his side, Reese’s eyelids fluttered. Oh, this. This was the place to be. Warmth wrapped around her bones, the scent of powdered sugar and cinnamon filling her nose. He was like a walking cup of hot chocolate by the fire.

  “That’s nice,” she sighed wistfully into his shoulder.

  His chest rumble was even better up close.

  They stayed that way for a few minutes, content in the silence, watching the repetition of lights and the honking, cranking, windy sounds of the city. Until Leo nodded at something across the street. “Look. There’s a fight happening in that office.”

  Her interested gasp was humiliating, frankly, but she owned it. “Where? Where?” She followed his line of sight and found he was right. In the top right corner of the building across the street, there were two people—a man and a woman—having an obvious shouting match over a desk. The woman waved a sheaf of papers in the air, the man massaged the bridge of his nose. “There are some unknown charges on the company’s expense report,” Reese murmured. “She’s demanding to know what they are. But he can’t tell her.”

  Leo’s voice emerged just above her ear. “Why?”

  “Because those charges are for a surprise birthday party he’s throwing in her honor, of course. He loves her. Always has. They started this company together, from the ground up, and turned it into an unmitigated success. The more time he let p
ass without telling her how he feels, the stronger their business partnership became. And now he can’t risk it. So he performs these little gestures, showing her without words how much he cares.”

  A long pause ensued. “Did you just come up with that whole thing in your head?”

  “I love a good storyline.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Dancers might not have speaking roles, but…in a way, we have to act with our bodies. Sometimes if the story isn’t inspiring—to me, at least—I make up my own. To bolster performance.”

  She could feel his gaze tracing the lines of her face thoughtfully. “Well, you can’t stop now. I’m on the edge of my seat.”

  “Okay…” Having more fun than she could remember having in her whole life, Reese chewed her smiling lip a moment. “So it could take a romantic comedy turn. Or a tragic one. In the rom-com version, he announces at the birthday party that he’s transferring to their London office, because secretly, he can’t stand to be around her anymore and pretend he’s not wildly in love. But she goes home after the party and it hits her, she’s loved him all along. Before he can get on the plane, she kisses him. Roll the credits.”

  “What happens in the tragic version?”

  “He cancels the party, marries her sister and only then does she find out he spent years loving her. But it’s too late.”

  “Jesus. That physically hurt to hear. And I don’t even know these people.”

  “What can I say?” She huffed a breath onto her fingernails, polishing them on the front of her coat. “I’m just that good.”

  “You are.” His thumb brushed up and down her arm. “You know, this is the same skill set that you’re going to employ helping me fulfill the Sweetest Fix orders.”

  A laugh whistled out of her. “Oh no.” She shrugged out from beneath his arm, backing toward the center of the roof. “I never agreed to help.”

  “Okay…” Following her, he drew the word out. “But it might interest you to know that there’s one guy who can’t figure out what his cross-country skier girlfriend who loves classic movies wants in a cake pop.”

  “Coconut, obviously. It’s an old-fashioned flavor. And the little flecks of white will call snowflakes to mind.”

  Leo gave her lopsided smile.

  She couldn’t help returning it, even as she grumbled under her breath.

  “The thing is…” Reese started, knowing she shouldn’t say the rest, but unable to help it. There was a current of acceptance and familiarity—a spark between them that shoved the words right out. “If I spend time with you, Leo…” she said quietly. “I have a feeling that I’m going to want to spend a lot more time with you. Leo.”

  He was only a few inches away when his smile dipped, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Their breathing had already turned shallow by the time their lips locked, muffled sounds breaking from both of their throats. Reese felt the contact all the way down to her heels. The low voltage of it raising bumps on her legs, her arms. He was warm, his breath racing, matching her pulse beat for beat. Her lie of omission hung between them, guilt sneaking into the space between her shoulder blades, but then his mouth opened over hers and it sailed away on a jet stream of enjoyment.

  Just like the other night, Leo’s hands were part of the kiss. They slid inside her coat to mold over her hips, his thumbs brushing her belly. And that hot thrum started between her thighs, the one he’d tickled to life the first time. Little spokes reached out from her core, teasing her nipples into points and making her breath catch.

  Holy hell.

  Were those her fingers sinking so confidently into his hair, pulling him down closer so she could deepen the kiss? A pretty bold move for a girl who wouldn’t agree to a date, but who cared? Because his mouth came when beckoned, his lips pressing hers wider for the invasion of his tongue, his hands drawing her tight to his body, slowly lifting her onto tiptoes. Or maybe she did that herself, there was no way to tell when her thoughts were muddy with pleasure.

  Being this close to him, there was no way to miss the rise of his manhood, the length of it settling against her belly, swelling with every stroke of their tongues. And the pace, the tone of the kiss was changing rapidly, going from exploratory to demanding, his hands beneath her shirt now, smoothing over the base of her spine, her lower body moving of its own accord, twisting subtly against his erection. A line inside of him frayed, she felt it in a brief stiffening of his upper lip, and those huge baker’s hands dropped to her bottom, grinding her closer once, just once, before he broke the kiss with a groan.

  “Goddamn, Reese.”

  “Yeah,” she managed, pulling air into her lungs. “So, okay. M-maybe we can have one brainstorming session about the, um…the Sweetest Fix. I mean, since it was partly my idea and all. That only seems fair.”

  A combination of relief and victory lit his face. “Brainstorming session. Yeah.”

  “We should probably have it somewhere…” She pulled her coat closed to hide her body’s intense response to the kiss. “Public.”

  “If we want to get anything done,” he said slowly, tongue pressed into his cheek. “This isn’t ah…typical for me. I just…want you to know that.”

  “You don’t spontaneously make out with strangers the first two times you meet them?” A laugh left her on an exhale. There was more to it. More than kissing. The kissing seemed to happen almost as a given because of the push and pull between them, the forming connection. “No, it’s not typical for me either.”

  They looked at each other for several beats. “I guess you should give me your number then,” he said finally.

  “I guess I should.” She waited while he took out his phone, reciting his number while she punched it in. “I have some—” She stopped herself before she could say “auditions.” Was this…going to be okay? Seeing this guy after meeting him under false pretenses? Or was she signing up for something seriously problematic?

  Tell him the truth. Now.

  It was right there, poised on the tip of her tongue.

  I don’t have a job yet.

  I’m sleeping on a beanbag chair in a closet.

  I was supposed to audition for your father.

  But she couldn’t pull the trigger.

  Frankly, it was embarrassing to have reached this point. To have been celebrated as a child competition dancer, cast in a huge commercial and hailed as the next big thing. And then kind of just…fizzle out. Go nowhere. To suddenly be twenty-one and have no college credits, no future prospects in this career she’d foreseen. The thought of Leo knowing those things about her made Reese queasy.

  If she made it…no, when she landed a spot on a chorus line, she’d have the confidence to explain. And she would succeed. She’d do everything in her power to get hired. She’d stretch her capabilities to their limit to realize the ambitions she’d had since childhood.

  If Leo was still in the picture when that happened, she’d tell him everything. There was a chance he might not even be around that long. Right? Maybe after some time in each other’s company, this…powerful magic would fade? And while that seemed highly unlikely while standing in his epic chocolate-scented warmth, could one little date hurt? She couldn’t remember any other guy giving her butterflies quite like this.

  “I have late-morning rehearsals. Classes. And shows obviously. Five nights a week,” Reese said, digging herself deeper into the hole, dirt flying up and landing back down on her head. For a moment, she couldn’t look him in the eye, but he tipped her chin up and gave her that lopsided smile again. “Since you work mornings,” she breathed, in danger of swooning, “Maybe late lunch would be best.”

  All he did was nod. Reach down and take her hand, picking her bag up with the other. He brought her back down in the elevator, her head resting on his shoulder. When they reached the bottom, she wasn’t sure what to do. It almost felt odd to simply walk away from him after what they’d shared on the roof.

&
nbsp; “Um…” She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I guess—”

  The sound of her phone ringing cut her off.

  Leo had his own cell pressed to his ear.

  Lip caught between her teeth, Reese fished her phone out of her bag and answered. “Stratton residence.”

  He huffed a laugh. “May I please speak to Reese?”

  She covered the receiver and called, “Reese?” A beat passed, her hand dropping away. “Hello, this is Reese. Who is calling?”

  “Leo.”

  “Leo. So nice of you to call. It’s been an age. How may I help you?”

  “By coming to lunch with me tomorrow.” Lord, his voice. All deep and crackly. “One o’clock?”

  “That sounds good.” Well aware she was blushing, she hung up. “Text me the place.” Again, he just nodded, watching her, obviously in no rush to move. Apparently it would be up to her to break the huddle. “Well. Bye for now.”

  He grunted, but finally started to back up, both of them turning and walking away at the same time. She lost count of how many times she glanced back and caught him doing the same. And it was a wicked combination, the lightness in her step mixed with the foreboding in her stomach.

  Chapter 8

  Early the next morning, Leo stood in the back of the Cookie Jar dipping madeleines in melted chocolate, sprinkling the dipped end with crushed walnuts, putting them on the drying rack, the routine ingrained in his muscle memory. Even though he knew damn well it was only eight o’clock in the morning, his eye continued to stray to the clock, usually finding only a minute had passed since the last time he checked.

  He wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d splashed on some extra aftershave this morning, either, frowning down at the tiny print on the bottle to see how long the stupid woodsy scent was supposed to last.

  “Leo?” Tad blew in from the front of the bakery tangled up in his apron. “I just got a call from my mother. She fell down again in the apartment and she refuses to use the button thing I got her, even though it’s hanging around her neck. She just needs a boost back up onto the couch. Preferably before Live with Kelly and Ryan, she says. It should only take me an hour to get to the Bronx and back.” Clearly flustered, he finally got himself free of the white strings, hanging it on one of the designated hooks just inside the swinging door. “I know you hate working the front, but Jackie is twenty minutes away and if I wait that long, my mom is going to give me the silent treatment for a week.” For a moment, he looked thoughtful. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”