Island Heat (4 page)

Kevin had never been more glad he woke up early. He'd been spoiled in his gourmet bakery job and had rarely started work early, but Darren had made him come in at five AM often to start the bread loaves.

Holy fuck, did Kevin hate baking bread. He was never baking
that
in this shop, that was for damn sure. For that matter, he wouldn't have to get up especially early since they were only open from five PM to three AM. With just the two of them and the fact that they both had to be there to fill their respective roles, they didn't want to be pulling many longer hours until there was a demand for desserts and drinks at lunch or breakfast and they could hire staff.

The extra hours this morning paid off, though, because Kevin got into the store before Troy was even back from his hookup the previous night to set up all the kitchen utensils and ingredients he'd brought in his checked baggage. Then, he took his list of alcohols, mixers, and ingredients to the restaurant supply store to get the order filled.

They delivered within the hour, so by seven, Kevin was already elbow-deep in icing. He had to make some of the baked goods fresh before their opening on Friday, but he could prepare some things like icing ahead of time.

He was glad that he and Troy had chosen simple but elegant décor for the place. It meant a lower bill from the rental company for the labor and material expenses of decorating, and it meant the dessert cabinet and bar were already installed, the art was up on the walls, and even the light fixtures were in place. It was like a turnkey business.

“Of course, turnkey businesses come with... people to do things for you,” he muttered to himself as he slid his test cake into the industrial oven and closed the door. He needed to see how the temperature and humidity of the island would affect rising times for baked goods. “I think,” he added as he set the timer. Come to think of it, Kevin wasn't really sure.

It didn't help that construction workers and fellow owners kept ducking in to ask if anything was ready to eat yet. He kept having to turn them away and explain that, like every other Main Street store, he wouldn't be ready until Friday.

His stress levels rose as nine AM came and went and Troy
still
wasn't there. It would look bad if Rube, their mentor and Troy's business crush, came before his business partner even showed up.

When he heard a voice that was much too deep and sexy to be Rube's call out, he sighed with exasperation and shook his head.
They won't frigging stop.
“We're closed,” he told the customer from the kitchen. “No customers welcome yet. Come back on the weekend.”

Then, he let out a breath and tried not to stress. He set aside his oven mitts and ducked out of the kitchen through the doorway to follow up on that statement with something a little more welcoming.

Oh, shit.

Of course it was him.

The gorgeous man who had made him stop and think twice before stepping out of his personal space – the one who clearly liked to tease and infuriate and draw out any bit of chemistry, who would probably be fucking
hot
in bed for all the right reasons if Kevin leaned that way...

Kevin blushed at the thought.

“Someone's crabby this morning. Is now a bad time?”

He's never going to let that go.
Kevin sighed at the gorgeous man, but all he got was a broad grin in return. “God, that's going to follow me around all summer now,” he complained, but his mind didn't linger on the flirtatious teasing for long. “Yeah, I'm... everything's...”

He heard his cake timer go off.
Shit, shit, shit, I can't let that go any longer, my tests are all timed...
Missing it by a minute would mean another test cake.

And that was why customers weren't supposed to be here yet. Kevin scolded him by saying as much, but the hot guy didn't seem very dissuaded.

“I'll come back, Kevin,” his would-be customer promised. When he made eye contact, Kevin couldn't look away. He knew he was supposed to, but there was something about the way those eyes flickered between his own, catching and holding them... practically commanding him to stay in place.

Then, the other man winked.

Oh, fuck, Kevin was too straight for this.
Or am I?
Kevin blushed, trying to ask for the man's name, but he was already gone.

He hurried straight to the oven to pull out the cake, swearing under his breath as his heart raced and trying not to burn himself on the oven door or the pan.

There was no way that had just happened.

He'd never had that kind of reaction to a man – or anyone – and now it had happened with this guy twice in a row. Once on the dock, when his soft, large hands had wrapped around Kevin's and the warmth of skin on skin had made him catch his breath, and now his eyes alone had had that same effect.

His hands trembled as he pushed a toothpick into the cake and pulled it out.

Perfect. Moist. Supple...

Like the stranger's lips.

Oh, shit.
Kevin threw away the toothpick. He leaned over the counter and folded his arms, letting his head thump down onto them. He didn't have time for this. He didn't
want
to want to explore this.

None of that mattered. His desire was still there, wanted or not, and it was strong.

For the first time, perhaps, he could understand why Troy was constantly seeking out strangers. If Troy felt that inescapable magnetic pull towards every guy he went home with... well, in his shoes, Kevin would probably wind up taking them all home.

The thought of taking
this
man home was a little terrifying. What if it was just a lingering feeling, a moment that would pass as soon as clothes came off? He hadn't
thought
he was into dick, but neither had he thought a lot about what women had going on downstairs, either.

Did this mean he was just a late bloomer? He was twenty-three, which seemed much too late to be discovering any kind of sexuality, but... it was undeniable that there was
something
about this unknown stranger.

As he kept baking, throwing away test foods and planning according to his results exactly when he'd make which ingredients and which finished desserts for their launch, he tried to get his mind off the undoubtedly rich and interested man he kept bumping into.

There was no way in
hell
he was telling Troy about him yet.

A long day spent in the sun left Eli sleepy and mellow more than anything else – except maybe great sex, but he wasn't expecting that anytime soon. He had definitely darkened a shade over the course of the day, and he was lucky he hadn't burned since he'd only worn light sunscreen on his face and neck.

Dean wouldn't let him stay at home for the second evening in a row, though. When Eli tried to insist he'd go to bed early and rest before the parties began in earnest, Dean didn't even let him finish the sentence.

“You're going to get dressed and march on over to those parties and look
great
doing it,” Dean told him firmly.

“Ugh,” Eli answered, putting his dishes in the dishwasher before washing his hands in the kitchen sink.

“I know you don't want to.” Dean added his dishes to the machine before closing it up and offering Eli a hand towel. He leaned on the counter, looking serious now. “But Tom's rep hasn't announced anything yet.”

“Fuckin' Tom,” Eli muttered. “I don't care.”

“You do when it comes to the legal side of things. Keep it 'amicable',” Dean air-quoted, “even if you want to punch him. It'll make everything easier in the long run.”

“I hate it when you have moments of clarity,” Eli told him. “But, you know, that means I can't hit on anyone else. And my ring – people will notice...”

“You'd be surprised how few people will notice.” Dean hung up the hand towel again and clapped Eli on the shoulder. “The only people looking will be the ones who don't already know it's there. Our buddies won't even think twice about it. Besides, nothing will get out from here. What happens on Ember Isle...”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Come on, you're making excuses. Go on, get something hot on and let's go,” Dean told Eli.

The two headed out to the downtown mixer held at one of the Main Street bars for early arrivals. It was good to see and be seen there anyway, and since Dean and Eli knew most of the other wealthy men who would be there, it was more like catching up with friends.

Eli spent the first half hour dodging questions from guys he knew about Tom and Tom's latest projects that kept him off the island that summer, redirecting everyone to talk about themselves. Luckily, everyone there loved to do that.

When he saw Rube, whom he'd worked with two years ago on an investment that had paid off, Eli smiled. Rube was easygoing and he wouldn't pry. “Hey, I didn't know you were coming here.”

Rube smiled and leaned in to hug Eli quickly, then reached out to shake hands. “Great to see you again, sweetie.” The way he was talking to him was gentle, but not too over-the-top, almost like...

He knew.

Eli swallowed hard and glanced around, then slipped his left hand into his pocket. “What are you doing here, anyway? Relaxing?”

“All work and no play, I'm afraid. Well... more like fifty-fifty,” Rube grinned, leaning on the bar and flagging down a bartender. “Get this gentleman whatever he wants on me.”

“Rube, man, no. After New York, I owe
you
drinks!” Eli insisted, but Rube wouldn't let him have a word of protest. When Eli gave in and ordered a cocktail, Rube gestured for him to sit next to him at the bar.

“I'm mentoring the owners of the bars, pubs, and clubs here. All the nightlife.”

“All of it? Jesus, you're going to have your hands full.”

“I know. It's rewarding, though. There's a bunch of young guys – young and naïve, they don't yet know what they don't know,” Rube laughed. “Some of them will make it, some won't. We've screened them pretty carefully to make sure they
should
all make it, but...”

“Yeah,” Eli agreed. “You never know.”

“Exactly. Bill gave me a little leeway this time in who I picked, so I took a few chances.”

Eli tried not to be too obvious as he accepted his cocktail with a nod and a smile, then leaned on the counter and questioned, “The dessert bar? Sweet Nothings?”

“Yeah, that was one of those chances. Great couple of young guys who run it, I had a good long meeting with them today. One of them's a bartender and one of them's a baker, and they're collaborating...”

“Ooh, that could be risky, though,” Eli raised his eyebrows. “Not enough cross-skills there.”

“I think they'll make it. They're a tough pair. No staff yet, though. They didn't have much saved so they're running it all themselves for now.”

“Are they together?” That was a
little
too quick, Eli realized as Rube gave him a perceptive look for a moment. Thankfully, Rube didn't follow up on that.

“No. The baker, Kevin, he's actually straight.”

“You hired a straight man to come here? And he actually came?” Eli laughed.
Bullshit. He's not straight. The look on his face in the shop earlier...

Rube just said, “I had a feeling it would work out. They arrived just yesterday and they're almost set up. Mostly Kevin – he was working from five AM to when I checked in a few minutes before coming here, all day long. Troy was there for most of the day, too, but he's going to have more of the workload at nights and Kevin more work during the day. It'll be an interesting setup. That's why I wanted to try it.”

Eli licked his lips and nodded, his mind already wandering.
So they're definitely not together, which explains Troy hooking up with Dean last night, but... I can't fall for a straight guy.

He changed the subject as Dean came around, and the three of them chatted about a few of the projects Rube had just finished up in London and Tokyo.

Even as they talked, he couldn't keep his mind off Kevin. Gorgeous, ambitious, and a hard worker: exactly Eli's type.

But Eli wasn't officially single yet, and Kevin was supposedly straight.

He'd stop by the bakery the next morning just to apologize for intruding and... maybe chat with him a little more. Maybe he could even stop by that night and see if the poor guy was still trying to work his ass off to get ready for Friday, give him a little encouragement. They could be friends, even if they couldn't date.

Eli ignored the part of his mind that told him that friends didn't look at each other like the counter was the only thing stopping them from kissing until they hit the floor. Friends didn't have chemistry that sparked to life at the lightest touch of their hands. Friends didn't find themselves unable to take their eyes off each other by the second meeting.

And he wanted to explore that already. He barely knew the man, but he wanted to find out why he was both stern and shy, why he had that sharp edge to his voice, and why he seemed to lose that defensiveness whenever Eli looked at him for longer than a second.

He wanted to know if that exciting, electrifying tingle he'd felt when their hands brushed on the dock was a one-time thing or not.

Fuck. He was supposed to be getting his mind off Tom and flirting with other men, relearning how to date, but this wasn't the way Eli had envisioned it going.