Takes the Cake (2 page)

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Authors: Lynn Chantale

Tags: #Contemporary; Multicultural

BOOK: Takes the Cake
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“She’s a lot of fun when you get to know her.”

“I don’t have that type of time.” Or enough fingers. Although, a little fun with a certain caterer would be welcomed.

A loud crash emanated from the kitchen, the doors opened, and muffled swearing followed a harried and blushing Martha. She saw them and nodded. “The…um…caterer will make the changes.”

Keegan smothered a chuckle. Apparently, Martha hadn’t had much luck with the caterer’s temper either, and he wondered if Liz was still just as feisty outside the kitchen.

“I can just imagine how upset that dear woman is. She’s spent so much time helping me pick out the right dishes, and this change is last minute. I better go see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

He grabbed her arm as she headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll go check. You go mingle with your guests. This is your weekend. Your moment.”

She nodded. “You’re right.” A man of medium build wearing tennis whites and twirling a racket strolled by. “Hey, Christian. Wait up. I’ll walk to the courts with you.”

Keegan narrowed his gaze as he watched the two walk out arm in arm. His sister was awfully close to the best man. Another crash from the kitchen captured his attention. A faint smile creased his lips while his pulse pounded a hasty rhythm of anticipation. Time to see the caterer again.

* * * *

Liz hurried through the pantry. Her apron strings snagged the handle of one of several stacked pots, and they toppled to the floor before she had a chance to grab them.

“Great. Just great,” she muttered, stooping to retrieve the items. Like she didn’t have enough challenges already. If she’d been at the building that housed the catering company, she’d have had everything she needed, including Darling, the chef and owner who was an absolute whiz at preparing last-minute dishes. As it stood, Liz was on location, and all the meals had been carefully planned right down to the deli trays for the stag and bachelorette parties the following night. And now with less than three hours to spare she had to find another protein to serve to the shellfish-allergic guests?

“What about some sort of shrimp dish?” a disembodied voice called out.

Liz rolled her eyes. “George, for the last time, shrimp have a shell. Do I need to sit you in front of a bucket peeling and deveining those crustaceans until you realize they have a shell? Think turf. Beef, chicken, pork, lamb.” She spied a can of water chestnuts. There were plenty of livers left over. She could make a rumaki as a substitute for the shrimp toast. She made a mental note to tell the servers not to mix the appetizers. The last thing she needed was to send anyone into anaphylactic shock. Thankfully, they had a bunch of boards and knives still in the van that hadn’t seen any shellfish action.

She rose onto her tiptoes and still couldn’t reach the can on the top shelf. A hand appeared next to hers on the silver rack while a hard body heated her back. A familiar cologne—woodsy musk—wrapped around her and made her nipples tighten. She closed her eyes and tried not to inhale. Why in the world didn’t this man leave her alone? His sister was a delight to work with. No fuss. No micromanaging. It was like Caroline was planning a garden party for her friends instead of the most important day of her life. Heck, even the groom was docile. A bit of a doormat in Liz’s opinion, but she wasn’t the one saying “I do.” Keegan acted like this was his wedding and he was the one paying the bill instead of his parents.

Liz shook her head. They’d come so close to having a happily ever after, danced around the issue of some form of commitment, and she finally got tired of waiting for that all-important question. Even now, almost a year later, she yearned to hear that question from him. She drew a stuttered breath. Maybe they just weren’t meant to be, but here they were thrust together again.

She couldn’t live her life in a continuous limbo of parties, training, and soccer games, especially when her career was going so well. Truthfully, she didn’t mind attending some of the parties. It allowed her to network for the catering company, and watching Keegan run around the field in shorts was never a hardship. The real conflict came when he wanted her with him all the time. He never really seemed to understand how much she loved her career and the stability it afforded.

She needed—no, wanted to put down roots and start a family. At the time, Keegan seemed to be focused on everything but her feelings and goals. Yet whenever he was in the room, she went all sappy, like now.

It also didn’t help that he conjured images of new uses for a chocolate fountain or even a quickie in the pantry. A ripple of awareness washed through her. This man made her think of what they could’ve had and of the wedding that could’ve been, but first, she had a job to do before she thought of herself and Keegan in any context.

He placed a hand at her waist. The gesture seemed intimate and a tad possessive. Maybe forget the wedding and go straight for the honeymoon. They’d never had a problem with intimacy. Their sex life had always been sizzling. Since she left Keegan, Liz couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any sexual gratification that didn’t involve her fingers or batteries.

“Does this help?” He set the can on a lower shelf. “There seems to have been quite a bit of noise coming from the kitchen, and Martha looked positively frazzled when she left.”

Liz furrowed her brow. Martha was upset? That was news to her. Liz had simply thanked the event planner for the update, nothing more. Well, Liz did express her frustration at the last-minute change, but Martha agreed and even offered to bring additional help if needed. Maybe one of the other cooks had said something to her.

“I can’t imagine why. She was apologetic about the changes.” She stepped back and into Keegan’s masculine form.

He was so close that his warmth seeped into her clothes. A rigid swell met the curve of her behind and sent awareness trickling through her veins. Desire dampened her panties while she sucked in a breath. This man could not be aroused by her, could he? Not after all this time. She didn’t think she was ugly, far from it, but with her unruly curls tucked beneath a bandanna, her face devoid of any cosmetics, and her hands covered in dye, she wouldn’t win any beauty contests.

Keegan was deceptively thin. Tall and muscular. She glanced at the well-tanned arms on either side of her. Toned forearms and chiseled biceps trapped her between his body and the shelving unit. She faced him and wished she hadn’t. He had the clearest hazel eyes she’d seen in a very long time, and right now they were more green than brown or gray. A lock of auburn hair curled over his forehead, and she had the uncontrollable urge to push it back into place.
Well, forget pushing it back into place.
She wanted to run her fingers through the reddish-brown waves, which were free of any gel or hairspray. Loose and carefree. Even his clothing reflected an easygoing manner with the untucked polo barely covering the telltale bulge in his baggy, blue cotton shorts. She swallowed and tried to look away, but she was drawn to his arousal. She longed to stroke him through the fabric of his shorts. Where had that thought come from? She twisted her fingers in her apron to keep from acting on impulse.

“So you didn’t harass dear Martha?”

His question snapped her from her reverie and she focused on his lips. Not too thin, not too thick. Just right for kissing. He pressed closer. His chest brushed her breasts, and this time, there was no mistaking the erection wedged against her hip. An answering trickle of desire warmed her pussy. What would it be like to lean into him and feel each breath he took? She lifted her hands and flattened her palms to his chest. Nothing but a solid wall of muscle.

“Right now you’re the only one doing the harassing.”

He winged a brow. “Really? You’re the one stroking my chest.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She
was
caressing the taut pecs beneath his designer polo. Startled, she dropped her hands. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling up a client? “I’m so—”

The moment his lips touched hers, all rational thought fled. Cool and commanding, firm and full of purpose, his mouth moved on hers, tempting her with the promise of long, slow lovemaking and unbridled passion.

At first she’d been too surprised to shove him away, but he coaxed a response with each kiss he fluttered over her lips. She drew him closer, savoring the tingles zipping along her spine. She plunged her fingers in the thickness of his hair, her lips parting on a sigh. He pressed the advantage, darting his tongue inside her mouth to duel with hers. She hummed in pleasure as he seemed to drink in her very essence and become the air she breathed. She clung to him, giving, taking, and demanding more.

The months melted away when he curved an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, lifting her until her feet no longer touched the floor. She wrapped her legs around his hips as his other hand grabbed her behind. His erection settled at the vee of her thighs, pressing into her heat even as dampness moved through her panties. He thrust upward, and her clit throbbed for relief.

Muffled swearing and a loud clatter snapped her back to reality, and she broke the kiss. “What are you doing?” She shoved at his shoulders and dropped her legs from his waist. How could she have lost her head and wrapped her body around his like they’d been together forever? Heat infused her cheeks. What would he think of her? “Oh, my goodness. Put me down.” She squirmed, but he didn’t release her. “Mr. Murphy—”

“It’s Keegan, especially after a kiss like that.”

“Fine. Keegan. Let me down. This is highly improper.” She didn’t know what else to say. She was supposed to be cooking, and here she was making out with the bride’s brother.

He smiled, a flash of dazzling white teeth that made her knees weak. “If you say so, but you’re the one who started it.”

She shook her head. This went against all the rules. At least it wasn’t the groom, but she shouldn’t be kissing anyone in the bridal party. Her boss, Darling, would kill her if she found out what had transpired. This wouldn’t have happened at all if Darling were here, but she was off celebrating her own happily ever after.

“Look, Mr. Mur—Keegan, we can pretend it didn’t happen and get on with our work.” Liz glanced around. “Please put me down. I really need to get the remainder of the hors d’oeuvres for tonight finished.”

He studied her a moment, the slow perusal heating the dying embers of her desire, and then slowly lowered her down his body. His arousal was evident when it grazed her hip and then abdomen as her feet touched the floor. She swallowed hard. This man made her want to forget her surroundings and follow him to a secluded room where they could explore the passion arcing between them.

That wasn’t possible. They weren’t together. She had a job to do.

“Thank you.”

He inclined his head. “So you only reserve your rudeness for me?”

“Or anyone else who annoys me.”

A smile flirted at his delectable mouth. “So you’ll think about changing the cake?”

“This isn’t even your wedding. Why are you so adamant she have this fab cake when she doesn’t even want it?” She searched his face. A flicker of surprise shone in his irises. “This isn’t my first wedding, and it won’t be my last. I’m damn good at what I do, which is giving people their vision. Caroline wanted simple and elegant. When you find the right woman and pop that all-important question, assuming she says yes, then you can dictate to the caterer how you want your cake.”

“You mean Caro wanted simple and elegant?”

She snatched the can of water chestnuts from the shelf. “Yes. Now if you don’t mind, there’s been a menu change, and I need to send one of my staff to get more supplies.”

“So you don’t believe your cakes predict the outcome of marriages?”

“I’m not a psychic. People choose whether or not to make their relationships work, a piece of cake doesn’t.” She hugged the can to her chest and hurried from the room, hoping the distance she put between them would dispel this excess tension. Maybe staying away from him for the rest of the wedding would diminish the attraction still simmering in her veins. Because right now, the scent of his cologne and the memory of his lips caressing hers left her a bit frazzled.

He followed. “I just want what’s best for my sister.”

“Admirable.” She thumped the can down near the can opener. Her mind was already on what she needed, and it wasn’t Keegan Murphy’s lips or hands.

He grabbed her elbow and jerked her to a halt. Her breath caught in her throat as his touch sent want scurrying through her. She shook off his hand. When he reached for her again, she shot him a glare.

“You’re not even listening to me.” Exasperation filled Keegan’s voice.

“I’m working.” Who was she kidding? She couldn’t concentrate as long as he was in the room, and she really needed to get back to work. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a psychologist on the premises. Maybe you should pour your heart out to that person.”

He shook his head, a scowl on his handsome face. “You can be replaced.”

Her temper flared, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She breathed deeply, struggling to maintain her composure. “At this late date? Good luck getting another caterer during one of the busiest wedding months of the summer.” She reached behind her and untied her apron strings. “Actually, that’s fine by me. That would solve your cake problems and this evening’s meal issues. I’ll just inform Miss Murphy that my services are no longer required.”

She spun on her heel and stalked from the kitchen. Aware of the man dogging her every step, she pushed through the double doors. If he thought he could get her to cooperate with the threat of losing this contract, he was sadly mistaken. The only reason the company had survived so long was because of the owner’s refusal to be intimidated by rich boys like Keegan Murphy. If they constantly made last-minute demands, the costs would never be justified.

Liz rounded the corner. The sight of a couple in a rather heated embrace slowed her footsteps. A flash of platinum blonde and a deeply tanned forearm greeted her. She stifled a gasp and cleared her throat. The couple fell apart. The man moved into the shadows while Caroline patted her hair and turned with a serene smile on her face.

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