Mocha pleasures, p.5
Mocha Pleasures, page 5
Radiating positive energy, his expression warm and welcoming, he spoke in an animated tone. “Of course not. I do this for all my customers, especially the ones who insult me!”
Jackson chuckled and the sound of his hearty laugh ticked her off. Grace couldn’t think of a witty comeback and decided this would be her first and last visit to the bakery after dark. In a moment of weakness, she’d let her dad pressure her to return to Lillian’s, but clearly, accepting Jackson’s offer had been a mistake. Why did I come here? What was I thinking?
You weren’t thinking. You were lusting! quipped her inner voice.
“I’m glad you’re here.” His husky voice broke into her thoughts, instantly seized her attention. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up.”
“You didn’t give me much choice,” she teased, flashing a cheeky, good-girl smile. “I was afraid if I didn’t come you’d hijack my Facebook page!”
Jackson stared at her, and Grace feared she had something on her face. Her heart raced, thumped so loudly she could barely hear the Luther Vandross classic now playing.
“I love when you do that.”
His words confused her, caused a frown to crimp her dry lips. “Do what?”
“Smile,” he said in a seductive whisper. “It dazzles me every time.”
Grace tore her eyes away from his mouth. Determined not to cross the proverbial line, the one that could destroy her mother’s legacy and dash her father’s hopes and dreams, she inched back, out of reach. Jackson moved closer, boldly pursuing her. Her worries grew, intensifying like the storm raging outside. Aggressive, take-charge men were her weakness, and Grace feared if Jackson kissed her she’d fall into his arms and succumb to the needs of her flesh. Isn’t that what she wanted? What she desired more than anything? To be ravished by this suave, debonair man who smelled of herbs and spices?
“I hope you’re hungry, because I made all of your favorites.”
“How do you know what I like? We’ve never gone out to eat.”
His grin was sly. “Twitter, baby!”
“Of course. I should’ve known. Up to your old stalking ways, I see.”
“A quick scroll through your posts revealed you love seafood almost as much as I do, so I made crab cakes, smoked salmon pinwheels, ginger-baked shrimp in pear sauce and some delicious desserts, as well. You’re going to love it.”
Grace felt her mouth drop open. Slamming it shut, she wondered if this was all a wonderful, amazing dream. Was this guy for real? Her ex had never cooked for her, but expected elaborate meals every weekend. Worse still, he was a homebody who’d rather watch CNN than wine and dine her. Jackson, with his outgoing, down-to-earth personality, appealed to her, especially after the likes of Phillip “Bore Me to Death” Davies. Grace craved excitement, spontaneity, and her ex didn’t cut it. She wanted to be with someone who spoiled her, who treated her as if she mattered more than anything in the world—a Renaissance man who cherished and adored her. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, because after countless blind dates she’d yet to find the man of her dreams.
“I’m glad you’re here, Grace.”
Jackson squeezed her hand, stroked her wrist with his fingertips, turned her on with each tender caress. Why did the gesture make her feel special? Desirable? Relationship advice her mother had given her years earlier echoed in her thoughts. Do what feels right and you’ll never go wrong. Consumed with emotions—lust, hunger, desire and need—Grace decided to do just that, what she’d been fantasizing about doing to Jackson all week. Before she could stop herself she kissed him hard on the mouth. Crushed her body to his. Draped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Licked his lips as if they were covered in chocolate. Touching his face, she inclined her head to the right and deepened the kiss. Encouraged by his groans, Grace slid her tongue into his mouth, boldly mated with his. And what a sweet, decadent treat it was.
Jackson pinned her to the wall, moving his hands down her shoulders, over her breasts, along her hips and thighs. It was too much. Had to be a dream. Couldn’t be happening. Five minutes after arriving at the bakery they were French-kissing. How was that possible? Between kisses, Jackson told her she was sexy, how much he desired her, that he’d been thinking about her all day. His confession fueled her passion, made her want him, need him, even more. The magic and euphoria of his kiss was her undoing, causing her senses to spin and her body to tremble. His urgent caress made her nipples erect, her clit tingle and her panties wet.
An acrid odor polluted the air. Breaking off the kiss, her eyes flew open and her nose twitched. “Do you smell that?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.
Panic flickered across his face. “Shit! The appetizers!”
Whipping around, Jackson tore out of the room.
Grace followed him through the bakery, hoping and praying the kitchen wasn’t on fire. Mad at herself for losing control, she inwardly berated herself for making the first move. This is all my fault. I should have kept my hands to myself, and off of Jackson!
Sprinting into the kitchen, Jackson swiped cooking mitts off the counter and slid them on without breaking his stride. In his haste to reach the stove, he knocked over the orange bottle beside the blender and it crashed to the floor. Glass flew in every direction, and the dark liquid pooled under the workstation. A strong, piquant scent that made Grace think of cherries and warm caramel filled the air, and she knew it was bourbon. Springing to action, she grabbed the mouth of the bottle, tossed it in the garbage can and searched the closet for a mop and a broom.
Clouds of smoke billowed out of the oven. Waving a hand in front of her face, Grace felt her eyes tear, but she focused on the task at hand, on doing what she could to help Jackson. Within seconds, the floor was swept, mopped and gleaming.
One by one, Jackson retrieved the blackened baking trays and dropped them on the counter. The appetizers were so badly burned Grace couldn’t decipher what they were. A gray haze, thicker than LA smog, engulfed the kitchen.
“Sorry about this. I feel like such an ass.”
“No worries,” she said with a small smile. “It can happen to anyone.”
“You must think I’m a total screwup.”
His words—and his harsh tone—surprised her. In that moment, Grace realized she’d pegged him all wrong. Jackson was arrogant, sure, but he was also kind, terribly sweet and sincere. Feeling guilty for causing the fire, and hoping to make amends, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “No way. Not at all. You’re a perfect gentleman.”
His eyes smiled. “Why, thank you, Ms. Nicholas.”
“It’s the thought that counts, and you get an A for effort.”
And for that amazing first kiss!
“Really? An A for effort and another kiss?” Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows and glanced frantically around the kitchen. “It’s like that? Hold on. Let me burn something else!”
Grace burst out laughing. She couldn’t believe Jackson was making light of the situation. Her ex would have thrown a fit, blamed her for ruining his dinner and sulked for the rest of the evening. Giving it more thought, Grace realized the fire never would’ve happened because kissing wasn’t Phillip’s thing—spending her money on frivolous crap was, but after she’d discovered the truth about him she’d dumped him and cut him out of her life. It hurt that he didn’t love her, but Grace chose to focus on the present instead of the demise of their relationship.
“That was some kiss,” he said. “Next time I’ll make sure I turn off the oven before you arrive—”
“There won’t be a next time.” She fervently nodded her head. “It was a crazy, spur-of-the-moment thing that caught me off guard, but it won’t happen again. It can’t.”
His face fell, but Grace didn’t let his wounded expression stop her from speaking her mind. The kiss was a mistake and she wanted Jackson to know exactly where she stood, so there were no hard feelings later. “I’ll admit it. I’m attracted to you,” she confessed. His gaze was distracting, but Grace spoke with confidence, refusing to be sidetracked by his dreamy eyes. “We can’t be friends, and we’ll never be lovers—”
“Never say never. I’ve been told I can be quite persuasive.” His grin was back in full force, weakening her resolve. “Let’s start with dessert,” he proposed, gesturing to the glass case at the rear of the room. “I made mint truffles, bourbon bread pudding and chocolate stracciatella cupcakes.”
Her mouth watered and her stomach groaned. Grace didn’t know what stracciatella was, but she liked the way the word rolled off his tongue and wondered what else his tongue could do. Washing the thought from her mind, she fingered the hair at the nape of her neck, weighing the pros and cons of breaking bread with a man she found irresistible.
“Care to join me?”
Without hesitation, Grace said, “I’d love to.” And she meant it. Hanging out with Jackson beat going home to an empty house, and she wanted to learn more about him and his successful family business. After all, that was the reason why she was here. To dig up dirt on the Draysons. To unearth their secrets. Back on her game, she fixed him with a seductive gaze and flashed her brightest smile. “Lead the way, Jackson. I’m right behind you.”
Chapter 5
“Why aren’t you married?”
Surprised by the question as they sat at the table eating their dessert/dinner, Grace picked up her glass and drank her tangerine cocktail to buy herself time. The drink was ice-cold, sweet and delicious, and she finished it within seconds. “Wow, talk about wasting no time getting into my business,” she quipped, pointing her spoon at him. “If I wasn’t starving and this bourbon bread pudding didn’t taste like heaven, I’d be out of here.”
“You can’t blame me. Beautiful women usually have several boyfriends, and I don’t want some muscle-bound jock busting in here, ready to beat me to a pulp for romancing his bae.”
A giggle tickled her throat. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m single?”
Jackson picked up the pitcher, filled her glass to the brim and Grace nodded her thanks.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No one’s ever asked.”
“Bullshit!” he argued. “You have ‘wifey’ written all over you and I find it hard to believe men aren’t beating down your door to get to you.”
“My focus is on the bakery, not finding Mr. Right. Not that I believe he exists. I don’t.”
He looked doubtful, as if he didn’t believe her, and slowly stroked his jaw.
“This is crazy. We’ve only just met and here I am spilling my guts to you.”
“No worries, bae. I’ll send you my bill.”
This time Grace couldn’t stop it and a laugh fell from her lips.
“Most women your age are champing at the bit for an engagement ring.”
“Not me,” she quipped, dead serious. “Relationships are a pain in the ass.”
“Care to elaborate?”
Tasting her cupcake, she decided it was divine and savored every delicious morsel. “Men are weird, complicated creatures and I don’t have the time or the energy to figure them out. There are only so many hours in the day, and I’m a busy girl with a million things to do.”
“It sounds like you’ve been dating the wrong men.”
“Honestly, I don’t get you guys,” she complained, voicing her frustrations about the opposite sex, namely her ex-boyfriend. “You act like committed relationships are a death sentence, but you want all the perks and benefits of being my man. What’s up with that?”
“You’re overthinking things.”
“Care to elaborate?” she said, posing the question he’d asked her seconds earlier.
“Men are simple. We only need three things to make us happy. That’s it. Give us what we need and you’ll have our heart forever.”
“Is that so?” Skeptical but intrigued, she leaned forward in her chair, desperate to get the inside scoop on the opposite sex. This is better than reading Maxim and GQ, Grace decided, unable to control her excitement. She didn’t have any guy friends, and since she didn’t feel comfortable talking to her dad about her dating life she kept her questions to herself. Hearing Jackson’s take on relationships was a treat. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What are they?”
“ESPN, steak and mind-blowing sex.”
Cracking up, Grace picked up her napkin and threw it at his face. “Now I see why you’re still single. You’re a handful and too slick for your own good!”
Thunder roared and lightning lit up the sky, but Grace was having such a good time with Jackson she didn’t care about the havoc Mother Nature was unleashing on the city. Grace hoped her dad was home from dinner, and planned to text him before she headed home. Although she wasn’t ready to leave the bakery just yet. Ready to talk for hours more she asked Jackson about his professional background. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like a baker.”
“I get that all the time, but there’s more to me than meets the eye.”
“What were you doing before you opened Lillian’s with your siblings?”
His deep, hearty chuckle filled the candlelit room. “What haven’t I done? I’ve been a bank manager, a business consultant, worked in real estate—buying and flipping commercial and residential properties—and I was even a professional poker player.”
“Were you any good?”
“Google me.”
Jackson winked and for the second time in minutes Grace laughed out loud. They’d been talking nonstop since they sat down at the table an hour earlier, and the more she learned about Jackson, the more she liked him. He was a character—loads of fun and sexy as hell, too.
“My winnings were enough to buy my dream car and a gorgeous home in Beacon Hill.”
“Then why quit? Surely it was more glamorous than whipping up scones and éclairs.”
Jackson parted his lips but didn’t speak, then swallowed hard. He popped a truffle into his mouth, then washed it down with tangerine juice. “I got tired of the fast-and-furious lifestyle,” he explained. “Every day was one big party, and soon I was spiraling out of control.”
“When did you know it was time to walk away?”
“Last winter when I woke up in Amsterdam, hungover, disorientated and sick as a dog. Thanks to my family I got out of the game before it destroyed me.”
Riveted, her ears perked up. Grace straightened in her chair, eager to hear more.
“Initially when Chase approached me about opening a bakery I laughed in his face, but once I spoke to my great-aunt Lillian and realized she had faith in us, I had a change of heart. I liked the idea of working with my siblings, and after Chase crunched the numbers and showed them to me, I jumped on board.”
“Any regrets?”
“None whatsoever. I love this community, the shop and our customers, and most days I can’t wait to get here and experiment in the kitchen.” Jackson sighed, a wistful expression on his face as he glanced around the shop. “Life is a trip sometimes. After I quit poker and my engagement ended, I’d planned to go backpacking through Europe, but look at me now. I’m running a successful business with my siblings and, most shocking of all, I can actually bake.”
Engagement? Speechless, the word rattled around in her brain. Grace wanted to know details, but Jackson changed the subject. Making a mental note to ask him about his former fiancée later, she answered his question about her favorite hobbies and interests. Nothing was off-limits—past relationships, stresses at work and sex—and his jokes put her in a playful state of mind. Jackson’s eyes lit up when the conversation turned to travel. He spoke about the trip he’d taken to Barcelona with his father and brother last summer, vividly recounting the highlights of their two-week excursion.
“Do you have any vacation plans this year?” he asked.
Grace made her eyes wide, faking a bewildered look. “Vacation? What’s that? It’s been so long since I had one I can’t remember what that is!”
“That’s a shame. We’ll have to remedy that, and the sooner the better.”
His words, though spoken in jest, made her feel warm and giddy inside.
“Have you ever been to Fiji?”
“No, why?” she asked. “Trying to sell me your time-share?”
Jackson chuckled and the sound of his hearty laugh brought a smile to her lips.
“I’m going there in October for a few days. You should come and keep me company.”
“Do you invite everyone you meet at Lillian’s on vacation?”
“No, just smart, captivating beauties named Grace.”
“You’d make a great politician,” she joked, wagging an index finger at him. “You always know just what to say, and you’re not only charming, but persuasive, as well.”
“Does that mean you’ll come?”
“No, it means I’ll think about it. A lot can happen in four months.”
Jackson nodded, then spoke in such a smooth voice her heart swooned. “You’re right. We could end up eloping to Las Vegas and celebrating there.”
“Or,” she said with a laugh, “I’ll go with my dad to London to check out an NBA pre-season game as planned. No offense, Jackson, but no one gets in the way of me and my favorite sport.”
Happiness covered his face. “You like basketball? No way! Who’s your team?”
“New York. They’re going all the way this season.”
“You wish. Me and four of my friends have a better chance of winning the NBA championship than your sorry, punk-ass team.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Name your terms, Ms. Nicholas.”
Grace wore a triumphant smirk. She knew Jackson would never agree to the wager, but she enjoyed teasing him. Hearing her cell phone buzz, she glanced down at the table. She had three new text messages from Bronwyn, but she decided to read them later. “A thousand-dollar donation to the winner’s favorite charity.”
