shower
turned on, I had to resist the urge to join him. It wouldn’t look too good if
Debbie and Brian showed up to find us both soaking wet—but satisfied—with no
food to eat. I sighed as I stirred the sauce again. The scent of garlic floated
out of the oven, alerting me that the bread was done.
I had just finished setting the table when
I heard a knock on the door. “Come in, it’s open.”
Nick came out of
the bedroom looking fresh and sexy, his damp hair curling around his collar,
smelling of soap and cologne.
Debbie breezed
in with something in her hand. From where I stood in the kitchen I couldn’t see
what it was. “Hi, what’s that smell? Don’t tell me you cooked.” She headed
straight for the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Brian
followed her holding a case of beer.
“As a matter of
fact, Idid,” I said. Now that she was closer to me, I saw that she was
holding a square cardboard box in her hand. “You didn’t?” I pointed to the box.
She grinned.
“Oh, yes, I did.”
“When did you
do it? Nick said they just decided after work, that’s not enough time.”
“I made it last
night and I was going to have it for dessert tonight. When Brian told me their
plan, I decided that you needed a fix.”
Pure joy filled
my entire body. “Thank you, it’s been so long since you cut me off.”
Nick, who had
been following the conversation with his head bobbing from Debbie to me like he
was watching a tennis match, raised his hands. “Wait, what the hell are you two
talking about?”
Debbie and I
shared a co-conspiratorial laugh, and then she set the box on the counter and
opened the lid, exposing the most delicious-looking cake ever. “Don’t tell me.”
I lifted my hand to Debbie, who was about to speak. “Three-layered Dutch
chocolate cake with mint chocolate icing. Oh God, I’m in heaven.”
She laughed,
running her fingers along her oversized beaded chain that hung around her neck.
She was wearing a burgundy sweater with a swooping neckline. “I know your
weakness.”
Nick gaped at
me, his brows creased in confusion. “Cake? That’s what you’re going on about?
Cake?”
How could I
explain how good her cakes were? “It’s not just cake. It’s ecstasy on a fork.”
“It’s just
cake,” Nick replied dryly, stepping out of the kitchen and taking a seat at the
table. Brian followed, falling into the chair next to him.
“You won’t say
that once you’ve tried one of Debbie Frankford’s creations,” I explained as I
sat on the other side of him. The plate in front of me was already full. I had
dished them out when I set the table. Once everyone started to eat, I
continued. “When I was Debbie’s roommate in college she used to make these
amazing cakes at home on weekends, and then bring them back for me to try. She
got me hooked, and by the end of our first year, I had put on fifteen pounds.
She had to cut me off. I haven’t had one of her cakes in months.”
Nick glanced at
Debbie. “You like to bake?”
She sighed
heavily. “I love it. It was the hardest decision going into publishing. I had a
dream of opening my own bakery, but I loved books just as much. I decided right
before college which one I wanted.”
“You picked the
right career, because if you had gone to culinary school we never would have
met.” I twirled noodles onto my spoon with my fork.
“Very true, and
I wouldn’t get to read the brilliant novel you brought in today. Seriously,
Cheryl was so excited she couldn’t wait to show Mr. Grayson.”
The music had
changed somehow to Bon Jovi, one of Nick’s favorites. The song was on low which
made conversation doable. Debbie and I discussed our day at the office while
Nick and Brian talked about a case they were working on.
“That was
really good, sweetie,” Nick said, leaning over to touch his lips to mine. He
stood up, carrying his plate into the kitchen. “Oh shit. The game’s about to
start. Brian, hurry up.”
turned on, I had to resist the urge to join him. It wouldn’t look too good if
Debbie and Brian showed up to find us both soaking wet—but satisfied—with no
food to eat. I sighed as I stirred the sauce again. The scent of garlic floated
out of the oven, alerting me that the bread was done.
I had just finished setting the table when
I heard a knock on the door. “Come in, it’s open.”
Nick came out of
the bedroom looking fresh and sexy, his damp hair curling around his collar,
smelling of soap and cologne.
Debbie breezed
in with something in her hand. From where I stood in the kitchen I couldn’t see
what it was. “Hi, what’s that smell? Don’t tell me you cooked.” She headed
straight for the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Brian
followed her holding a case of beer.
“As a matter of
fact, Idid,” I said. Now that she was closer to me, I saw that she was
holding a square cardboard box in her hand. “You didn’t?” I pointed to the box.
She grinned.
“Oh, yes, I did.”
“When did you
do it? Nick said they just decided after work, that’s not enough time.”
“I made it last
night and I was going to have it for dessert tonight. When Brian told me their
plan, I decided that you needed a fix.”
Pure joy filled
my entire body. “Thank you, it’s been so long since you cut me off.”
Nick, who had
been following the conversation with his head bobbing from Debbie to me like he
was watching a tennis match, raised his hands. “Wait, what the hell are you two
talking about?”
Debbie and I
shared a co-conspiratorial laugh, and then she set the box on the counter and
opened the lid, exposing the most delicious-looking cake ever. “Don’t tell me.”
I lifted my hand to Debbie, who was about to speak. “Three-layered Dutch
chocolate cake with mint chocolate icing. Oh God, I’m in heaven.”
She laughed,
running her fingers along her oversized beaded chain that hung around her neck.
She was wearing a burgundy sweater with a swooping neckline. “I know your
weakness.”
Nick gaped at
me, his brows creased in confusion. “Cake? That’s what you’re going on about?
Cake?”
How could I
explain how good her cakes were? “It’s not just cake. It’s ecstasy on a fork.”
“It’s just
cake,” Nick replied dryly, stepping out of the kitchen and taking a seat at the
table. Brian followed, falling into the chair next to him.
“You won’t say
that once you’ve tried one of Debbie Frankford’s creations,” I explained as I
sat on the other side of him. The plate in front of me was already full. I had
dished them out when I set the table. Once everyone started to eat, I
continued. “When I was Debbie’s roommate in college she used to make these
amazing cakes at home on weekends, and then bring them back for me to try. She
got me hooked, and by the end of our first year, I had put on fifteen pounds.
She had to cut me off. I haven’t had one of her cakes in months.”
Nick glanced at
Debbie. “You like to bake?”
She sighed
heavily. “I love it. It was the hardest decision going into publishing. I had a
dream of opening my own bakery, but I loved books just as much. I decided right
before college which one I wanted.”
“You picked the
right career, because if you had gone to culinary school we never would have
met.” I twirled noodles onto my spoon with my fork.
“Very true, and
I wouldn’t get to read the brilliant novel you brought in today. Seriously,
Cheryl was so excited she couldn’t wait to show Mr. Grayson.”
The music had
changed somehow to Bon Jovi, one of Nick’s favorites. The song was on low which
made conversation doable. Debbie and I discussed our day at the office while
Nick and Brian talked about a case they were working on.
“That was
really good, sweetie,” Nick said, leaning over to touch his lips to mine. He
stood up, carrying his plate into the kitchen. “Oh shit. The game’s about to
start. Brian, hurry up.”
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