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Authors: Layla Frost

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BOOK: Hyde and Seek
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“Yeah, uh, Z is installing some new speakers.” I congratulated myself again on being able to actually form words while looking him in the eyes.

In an attempt to not blurt out something embarrassing or start drooling at his hotness, I distracted myself by thinking about Z. Since I doubted his real name was Z, I started forming ideas about what it stood for.

Jake finished writing something and looked amused. “Your work need louder speakers?”

“Well, yeah, kinda.” Maybe not my work, but I definitely did.

Leaning down, he placed his forearms to the counter. His head tilted to the side as he looked at me. “How so?”

“I drive a lot, for deliveries.”

“What stuff you deliverin’, since I’m doubtin’ it’s pizza?”

“Desserts. Mostly cakes and cupcakes.”

“Really? Awesome. What bakery you work at?” Kase startled me by asking.

I belatedly noticed him and three other hot guys standing in the doorway.

Apparently name guessing is a good distraction technique.

“No bakery. Not yet, anyway.”

“Hey. Eli,” one of the other hotties said as he stuck his hand out. He was shorter than the rest, around five foot ten or so. With his short brown hair and warm, brown eyes, he looked wholesome, boy next door. He almost seemed out of place at the shop, until you took in his ink. It was good ink. He must have agreed as there was a lot of it.

I took his hand. “Piper.”

“Xavier,” another introduced himself with a nod. This yummilicious man was all dark eyes and overgrown dark hair. It was hot, and worked for him. “Your desserts any good?”

“Well, people order. A lot, actually. So… yeah.” I knew my desserts were good. Based on the swell of my chest, hips, and ass, I knew this fact well. I had to sample stuff though. Quality control and whatnot.

You’re so good at lying to yourself.

The popularity of my desserts was what had brought me to the bank that morning. When I’d started making cakes for friends, I did one or two a month. Those one or two turned into three or four referrals, which then turned into three or four more referrals.

Before I knew it, my side hobby became a business, a Piper’s Cakes was born.

Up until last semester, I attended college but hadn’t picked a major. Since Piper’s Cakes was quickly growing, thereby solving the dilemma of what I wanted to do with my life, I cut back my classes and switched to a business major.

It was a scary decision, but in a good way.

In order to do all I wanted to do, I needed money for better equipment, more space, and maybe even some help. I was turning away a lot of orders because I didn’t have time. I couldn’t make money turning away orders. It was a cycle I was trying to break.

“Key,” a quieter voice said with a nod, the last of the hotties. He was a leaner and lankier hot, more Steven Tyler or Mick Jagger rock ‘n’ roll. He had slightly shaggy, light brown hair with moody looking brown eyes. “You got any dessert on you?”

I shook my head. “Nope, sorry. Maybe if I come back.”

I was rewarded with a half-smile from Mr. Brooding. As I was pretty sure that was as close to happy as he got, I was cool with it.

My answer was welcomed by a bunch of smiling, eager faces and murmurings of desserts to come. Most guys were predictable when it came to food. I’d delivered cakes for children’s birthdays, and it was the men that were hanging around, looking for a chance to swipe some.

“Guys, seriously, work,” a rough, annoyed, and very in control voice bit out. I almost jumped up and started working at his order, it was that firm. I, apparently, was the only one since the guys still stood around talking about desserts they liked. Jake looked up and inhaled deeply before going back to his paper. “Moving on. Why do baked goods need better speakers?”

“No, the baked goods don’t. I do.”

“Yours broke?”

“No.”

“Then why the speakers?”

“I spend a big chunk of time making deliveries. Have you ever tried driving without being able to really crank up your music?”

“What do you listen to?” Kase questioned.

“Almost anything. But mostly rock. Can’t listen to rock at a ten when you can have an eleven.”

“Fuck,” I heard Jake mutter softly to himself.

“Did you just make a Spinal Tap joke?” Xavier asked.

Before I could answer, Kase laughed. “Damn, you’re full of surprises. Hiding a body of tats under that sexy librarian outfit you’re workin’?” he said jokingly. Which, of course, resulted in an immediate blush from me. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry, Piper, I didn’t mean to offend you, or make you feel uncomfortable. I don’t have a filter, so I—”

“Fuck,” Jake said again, loudly. I looked over to see him looking more than a little ticked.

“Damn, Jake, relax, I was apologizing. You know me, I didn’t mean to be a dick—” Kase started. Since Jake didn’t seem to like people finishing sentences, he was cut off again.

“That’s not why she blushed. Is it?” He turned his dark, intense green eyes to me.

“Well, no.” I smiled at Kase. “And I wasn’t offended, so don’t worry about it.”

“Ohhhhhkay.” Kase looked between Jake and I. “Well? What is it, then?” He glanced at Xavier and Eli who both appeared to be just as confused.

“He wasn’t wrong, was he?” Jake asked with a softer voice, though his eyes stayed intense. Scorching.

Get your mind out of your pants! Or, well, in this case, out of
his
pants!

“He was. I’m not a librarian,” I said, playing clueless.

“The tats?”

“Oh. About that. Well… I’m not covered.”

“No shit?” Warm Eyes asked.

“You can’t leave us hanging like that. We gotta see some ink,” Xavier said, his smooth voice accented slightly.

“Most of them can’t really be seen without me taking off… Well, they just can’t be seen right now. I got one I can show.” I rolled up my sleeve. On the inside of my wrist was a hot pink star with the word
ROCK
written inside it in a very badass font.

“That is fuckin’ rock!” Kase said, complete with sticking his index and pinky fingers out to make the horns. “What else ya got?”

“Uhh, a swallow on each shoulder blade, musical notes down my ribs, shooting stars on the sides of my pelvis, and a heart on my lower back. And, uh, yup, that’s it for now.”

“For now?” Eli asked.

I lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, well, I like ink, so who knows?”

“Speaking of
work
,” Jake growled, though no one mentioned it. Slamming his pen down, he turned to Eli, Xavier, and Kase. “You mind steppin’ back into the fuckin’ garage and getting’ some shit done?”

This was met with a “Yeah”, “Fine”, and “Whatever”. But it worked and the guys said their goodbyes before heading back through the door.

I turned my attention to Jake, who was watching me intently. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get in the way.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, shaking his head as he sat on a metal stool.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t sweat it.”

I didn’t know what that meant, and was saved from more tense awkwardness when Z came out.

If Eli didn’t look like he belonged in a garage, Z definitely did not. He looked like he’d be more at home in a board room. Or a GQ spread. Or on a yacht with a supermodel. The fact he wasn’t wearing a custom tailored suit somehow surprised me. Sure, working on cars was dirty work, but still, it just seemed like that would be his casual wear.

Z was what I called ‘Rockabilly Dapper’
.
Around six feet tall, he was lean with compact muscles. I’d guess he was in his mid-thirties, but he didn’t look it. He had some ink, was wearing the heck out of a white tee and ass hugging black jeans, and was rockin’ a fantastic pompadour.

I seriously didn’t know how he could be working in a garage and still have perfectly coiffed hair. I could spend an hour on my hair, and five minutes in the humidity would leave it in total disarray.

I was pretty sure Z owned Hyde, but I’d never had the chance to ask. Our conversations at the few events we’d both attended had always been friendly but short. After a few minutes of small talk, Mommy Dearest would move me along to some boring Ivy League creeper.

I liked Z. And not because he reminded me of a GQ model and called me Doll Face.

Okay, not
just
that.

“I got good news and bad news, Doll Face. The air is working. And I’m pretty sure I froze a ball testing it. But the new speakers didn’t work. I hooked your old ones back up.”

I smiled at him. “That’s okay, the air was the most important part.”

“I can get replacements, but not until tomorrow’s shipment. Can you come back in on Friday, around eleven?”

I had a clear schedule. I knew it for a fact, not because it was only two days away. I could easily lose track of what day it was.

Or what time.

Or what I’d had for breakfast.

No, I knew because my schedule was almost never clear. When it was, it was memorable thing.

“Yeah, that’s no problem. Thanks, Z.”

“It’s my job. Now let’s get you out of here.”

I paid for the work on my air, though I got the distinct impression it was less than I owed. A lot less. I also got the distinct impression you didn’t argue with Z. Especially if it was about him doing something nice.

“Alright, Doll Face, follow me,” Z said as he walked through the door to the garage.

I started following before stopping to look at Jake. “Sorry about being in the way. It was nice to meet you.”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe not nothing. He looked at me. Like,
looked
at me, making my heart pound in my throat. I was sure he could hear it, it was so loud. I wasn’t entirely convinced he couldn’t see it.

I turned quickly, and was almost to the door before I heard him.

“Piper, stop,” he said in that firm, bossy voice.

I stopped.

I don’t get how those guys can ignore that tone.

“Turn around.”

I turned around.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

Why couldn’t
that
be an order?

That thought required another clearing internal head shake, though they didn’t seem to be helping.

“Said it already. Don’t sweat it. Come around Friday, bring some dessert or they’ll never shut up, yeah?”

“Was already planning on it.” I loved to bake and used any chance to. And I had a feeling those boys wouldn’t turn away food of any kind, let alone sugary baked goods.

“Of course you were. See ya Friday, babe.”

“Yup,” I muttered as I took off through the door.

 

*******

 

“So, how is it?” Z asked as I slid out from the back of the van.

“Well, if any of you decide to start smuggling penguins, let me know. I can help with transport.” It was cold. I was glad my bra had a bit of padding to it because there was a definite tightness in my nipples.

Which of course has nothing to do with the badass, hot guy parade. Grand Master of that parade being Jake.

See? Good at lying to yourself.

“Seriously, though, it’s perfect. No more melty cakes. Thank you,” I said to Z.

“It’s my
job
, Doll Face. I’ll see you back here Friday. It might take a while with the speakers, so be prepared.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I hopped up into the seat and spoke through the rolled down window. “See you then.”

As I carefully pulled out, I turned my music up. Singing loudly, and badly, I thought about how I couldn’t wait for my new speakers.

Yup, it’s the speakers I’m looking forward to.

 

*******

 

“Piper!”

I hadn’t even turned off the van when my door was opened by a grinning Kase.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Looking around, I saw all of the guys were in the garage. I wished, not for the first time, that I was about six inches taller, thereby having the ability to get out gracefully. Instead, I stepped down awkwardly.

I slid open the side door of the van, bending and climbing slightly in to get the goodies.

“Hell, babe, hop out,” I heard close behind me.

Standing up, I moved out of the way. “I was just getting the stuff I brought.”

Jake reached in and grabbed the containers. He was muttering something, but I missed it over the noise of a bunch of grown men.

Not just grown, but badass, tough guy, hot men, acting like eight year olds over a treat.

“Shit, you were for real?” Xavier asked.

BOOK: Hyde and Seek
4.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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