“Yeah, and you’ve only be here a week. I can only see good things for the future.” He deadpans, “Yippee.”
I laugh in relief more than anything. “Oh God, you’re an ass.”
We laugh together and I feel peace ease into my bones. I stand to leave when he says, “You know, we can still hang out and do things. I’ll be at The White Rabbit this Saturday again, so if you’re there, we can have drinks. I don’t want things to turn awkward.”
He didn’t have to say that, but he did. Not out of obligation, just ‘cause he wanted to. I smile. “I’d like that.”
Decision made, I will definitely be at The White Rabbit this Saturday.
Chapter Eighteen
Helena
My lunch break is an hour long. If I quicken my pace, I’ll be back in forty-five. Thank God for sneakers. I breathe deeply, exhale slowly, and speed-walk down the sidewalk in the sunshine. The city doesn’t smell too good, but I smile regardless, knowing I’ll be there soon. Panting a little, I slow when I reach the entrance. It’s busy, but I think I’ll make it back in time.
Five minutes pass, and finally, I reach the front of the line.
Verna smiles. “Welcome to Icing on the Cake. What can I get you?”
All but beaming, I place my order. “I’ll take a cupcake sampler box, please.” Just as she moves to get me one, I ask, “Can I freeze them?”
Verna nods. “Sure are, hon.”
I mentally squeal, jump, and clap, then adjust my order. “Make it two boxes, please.”
She places the boxes on the counter. “That comes to forty-six even.”
Yeesh! This habit is going to burn a hole in my pocket.
I mentally shrug. Meh. I’m so totally okay with that.
I hand over the money with a smile and reach for the boxes, when the other mature worker lady runs out of the kitchen and whispers something into Verna’s ear. As I reach for the boxes, Verna pulls them away. Her eyes apologetic, she asks, “Are you Helena Kovac?”
My eyes widen. I respond a slow and drawn out, “Yes.”
The other worker whispers loud enough for me to hear, “I told you so!”
Verna snaps at her. “How was I meant to know, Tammy? She looks different in the picture!”
Tammy argues quietly, “You old bat, wear your damn glasses.”
Verna squabbles some more. “You’re older than me! You’re the dinosaur!”
But I just want my cupcakes. “Excuse me,” I cut in. “Can I have my cupcakes now? I have to get back to work.”
Verna shakes her head, handing me back my money. “I’m sorry, dear. I can’t serve you.”
My heart speeds up and is soon racing. I’m confused. “What? Why?”
Tammy leans forward over the counter, and whispers loudly, “You’re banned!”
My mouth gapes. I sputter, “B-but why? What did I do?”
Verna’s shoulder jerks. “Not sure. But Max said we weren’t to serve you until he says so, and we look after our stockholders. If it weren’t for them, we’d never have opened this place.”
Tammy adds on a nod, “We owe them so much.”
My eyes narrow. “Who?”
Tammy and Verna look at each other a long moment before turning back to me. They say in unison, “The Leokovs.”
Sweet baby Jesus.
I’ll kill him.
I run back to the office, and panting, I sit at my desk and reach into my top drawer for my cell. The message is written so fast that I can’t help but be proud of my nimble fingers.
Me: Oh my God. You are dead. DEAD! Not just dead…dead meat! Don’t talk to me ever again. EVER!
I slam the phone down on my desk, fuming, and log back in to my computer. A few seconds pass before my cell chimes.
Max: Cupcake, don’t say things you can’t take back. I mean, ouch. You’re killing me with your words, babe.
Then,
Max: I’m guessing this has something to do with you being blacklisted at a certain bakery.
My eyes narrow at the screen. How dare he be cute? How dare he? I stomp my feet and whimper. Asshole!
Me: What do you want?
He must have been waiting by his phone, because only seconds later, my phone vibrates in my hand.
Max: For you to train with Ceecee.
I shake my head enthusiastically as I write.
Me: We’ve talked about this! I can’t! It would be a conflict of interest. Please understand, Max.
Max: You’re perfect.
I roll my eyes and growl, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach from that statement, then resume texting.
Me: I could get into a lot of trouble for training her. I could lose my job.
Max: No, you won’t. Besides, I can keep a secret. I won’t tell if you don’t.
I’m beginning to feel bad. The guy clearly wants to help his daughter. My gut coils in regret.
Me: Max, honey…I can’t do it.
Max: Name your price. I’ll pay anything. I’ll do anything, Lena. Name it and you got it.
He just won’t take no for an answer. I place my phone back in the top drawer and get ready to sit in on another session. It’s my last session of the day, as well as my last session assisting. Tomorrow, I’m on my own. I’m anxious, but eager.
From behind me, someone leans down to my ear and whispers, “I’ll do anything. Please.” My entire body jumps in fright. My hand flies up to my heaving chest and I turn to face a restless looking Max. “Please.”
Jesus C, he’s breaking my heart. I step closer to him and whisper, “I gave you my answer, Max. Give up.”
His eyes close. He shakes his head. “Never. I mean it. I won’t give up. I’ll wear you down. I won’t stop.”
My shoulders slump. “Max—”
My entire body stiffens when he pulls something from behind his back.
I hope that’s not what I think it is.
***
Max
Her eyes narrow down at the little white box. She places a hand on her hip and points at it with the other. Feigning boredom, she asks, “What’s that?”
I grin. “A cupcake.”
Her eyes flash. She quickly masks her excitement and shrugs dismissively. “And?”
I hold it in one hand and tap my fingers on the top of the box that holds the delicious treat. I tilt my head. “Well, if you don’t want it…” I open the box to reveal the most decadent looking double fudge brownie cupcake in the history of man.
Helena gasps.
I lift the cupcake out of the box. Hey eyes narrow and her jaw sets. Slowly, I bring it to my opening mouth. She fists her hands so tightly that her knuckles turn white. Just as the baked sweet touches my lips, she launches forward, snatches it out of my hand, and shoves the entire thing into her mouth.
Chewing animatedly, her eyes close in bliss. She moans long and low. And my dick hardens. Hey eyes flutter open. She glares at me and utters a garbled, “Do that again and I will cut you. Hard.” She turns and walks away.
I call out after her, “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
Her response comes in the form of her middle finger saluting me high up over her head, her round ass swaying seductively with every heated step.
Fuck me.
I’m in love.
“Max. What are you doing here, man? I didn’t think we had an appointment today,” states James from somewhere behind me.
I watch Helena walk away until she disappears down the hall. I turn to James. “We didn’t, but I figured if you had a second free that we could talk about something that’s bothering me.”
James checks his watch then smiles. “I’ve got time.”
I fight my grin.
She’s going to kill me.
***
Helena
There’s still time before the next appointment. I decide to get some time in doing some research about the client and his injury. Engrossed in my reading, I don’t look up when James calls out, “Helena, you got a sec?”
I call back, “Sure do.”
I make my way to his office, but when I reach the door, I screech to a halt.
What the fuck?
James smiles up at me. “You should have told me.”
Wide-eyed, I look over at James before turning my sights on a smirking Max. I croak, “What?”
James motions for me to sit. I do, next to Max. He looks to Max. “Max was just telling me about how you want to do some private sessions with Ceecee.”
I glare at Max and mutter through gritted teeth. “He did, did he?”
Max shrugs, smiling. “I did.”
James starts again, “You’re sweet, Helena. Really. But you shouldn’t have worried.”
My brow creases. “What?”
Max explains, “I told him about how you said you wanted to do the sessions, but didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Especially James’, being that he’s Ceecee’s PT and all.” Max reaches over to squeeze my thigh. “I was going to let this go. Really, I was.” The lying sack of shit! “But I know how much you wanted to do this and how you thought it would help Ceecee so,” he looks over at me with fake regret, “I had to tell him, Lena.”
I’m stunned. I lift my panicked gaze to James and ask a shrill, “And you’re for it?”
James beams. “Of course I am. I’d do anything to help Ceecee, and I’m glad you would too. As far as I’m concerned, we’re a team, Helena. You’re not stepping on my toes. I love the idea of the two of us working with Ceecee.”
I slump in my seat and utter a quietly hoarse, “Okay.” I quickly remember to ask, “You don’t think this is a conflict of interest, do you?”
James’ face falls. I side-eye Max to see his smile fall along with James’. James scratches at his chin. “Hmmm. I’m not sure, really. I mean, I know your families are twisted in together. That could be a problem.” I turn to Max and silently gloat. I hate myself almost immediately when I see the dejected look on his face.
James asks Max, “You didn’t really know Helena before now, did you?”
Max responds through a sigh, “No, sir.”
James looks over at me. “And you said yourself that you don’t know Max all that well, right?”
I said that? When the heck did I say that?! Stupid mouth with the saying things and such! I think about lying, but instead mumble sorely, “Yeah.”
James smiles once again. “Then I don’t see a problem here.”
Max stands, raises his arms in the air high above his head, and hisses out, “Yes!”
I’m suddenly yanked into a tight hug. Max lifts me so my tiptoes barely touch the ground, his cheek pressed firmly against mine. The light scent of his cologne wafts up gently, just enough to silently tempt me. He sways me excitedly from side to side, the tips of my sneakers making squeezing noises as they’re dragged along the ground, then he utters into my hair, “See? I told you he wouldn’t mind. I knew it would work out.”
My arms limp by my sides, I whisper hiss into Max’s ear, “I am going to cut off your balls then feed them to you, one testicle at a time.”
Max sighs happily, pulls back, and rubs my arms, beaming, “I know. I’m happy too!”
Forcing a smile, I puff out, “Hooray.”
James smiles up at the two of us. “I’m so glad it worked out.”
Max wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “We are too.”
As my head touches his shoulder, I again breathe in the woodsy scent of him and wonder if he’s worth five-to-ten in a maximum-security prison.
***
Max
The look on her face. I chuckle to myself as I walk through my house. I know I shouldn’t laugh, but, shit, it was funny. My mama taught me better than to poke a bear, but here I am, poking away.
Me: Come have dinner with us tonight at home. We have to work out a schedule.
Nik asked if I was coming back to work this afternoon. I wasn’t sure what time my impromptu meeting would end, so I told him I wasn’t. Now, at home alone, I think of what to cook. What would Helena eat? My phone pings.
Helena: Eat shit, asshole.
I tilt my head back and burst into laughter. I really like this girl.
Me: Pan-fried shit with roasted potatoes and salad. We’re all set. Luckily, I have all those things at home :)
Shaking my head, I reach into the fridge and pull out the steaks I had marinating from the night before. She looks like a woman who would eat a steak. Her ass looks like she’s a woman who likes steak.
That ass.
Fuck me, that ass.
My forehead hits the fridge with a thump. My hand slides down to cup my semi-hard dick and squeezes it tight. I can’t stop thinking about her. Her damn body looks like it was made to fit mine. It’s teasing me, taunting me every time I see her. Toned and firm, thick in the places it should be, a smart, kissable mouth, those sexy pouting lips, tits that would fit nicely in my palms, long, wavy, dark hair, green cats eyes, and long lashes.
All I want to do is bend her over and let my hands roam. I want to feel her body, hold her hips tight, her ass pressing back against me as I grind into her, her looking back at me through hooded lids, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted, breathing erratic.
I bite my lip. My eyes shut in a mixture of pleasure and pain. I can’t deny it. I want her in my bed. But she’s a lady, not the type to fuck around. I won’t lie. That just makes me want her more. Broads are broads. I’ve never wanted a broad for anything more than to warm my bed. Helena’s a lady. That’s a whole different story. My mind wanders. Is she quiet in bed, or does she moan loudly? I bet she’s a quiet one. I’d also bet I could make her scream.
Stop it, moron. My hand squeezes my cock harder. I groan, then whimper.
Shit.
I need to get laid.
***
Helena
Why must he taunt me? As if it’s not bad enough that he’s gorgeous and his body is something out of Men’s Health magazine, he’s funny when I don’t want him to be. And that sucks! It’s true I didn’t want this private training position, but I have to admit I spent the afternoon researching things I can do with Ceecee, and I’ve got to say I’m excited about it. If she knocks back the things I’ve found, I’ll just search and search ‘til I find something that suits her.
It won’t be easy, but I have to try. I hate to see her so miserable, and I don’t like seeing normally happy Max so sad. He annoys me, but I don’t want him unhappy. Being happy is in his nature. To take away something from a person that is a natural reaction is cruel. As much as I want Ceecee healthy, I want Max content.
I slip out of my work clothes and make my way to the bathroom, and just as I switch on the bathroom light, I lean down and hiss at Tedwood a split second before he gets to me. He scrambles in the opposite direction and I chuckle quietly. He’s not such a bad cat once you get to know him. A little broody, sure, but a complete coward.
Just as I place one foot into the warm spray of the shower, claws and teeth attach themselves to my leg. “Motherfucker!” I shake my leg in the air, Tedwood firmly attached, and yell, “Stop being an asshole, asshole!”
Why won’t this day end already?
Chapter Nineteen
Helena
How great are showers? Not only are they a pretty decent way to wash off stank, they’re also relaxing as heck. I spend a good half-hour letting the borderline boiling water wash away the day’s frustration. For some time, I simply stand under the spray and bask in the feeling of being submersed in my own little bubble of tranquility.
Today not being a hair-washing day, I turn off the shower and step out. With the bathroom door wide open, I towel myself off before slipping on a white t-shirt bra and light blue boy-leg panties. Just as I’m about to step out of the door, a loud crash sounds in the kitchen.
I jump as the crash reverberates through my ears, but quickly sigh, “Teddy. Goddamn it, cat!” My feet are dragged from the bathroom to the hall. I squeak, then squawk, “What the hell
are you doing here?”
Max doesn’t look up. Instead, he finishes plating up steak, potatoes, and salad onto plates. “Don’t you use that tone with me, cupcake. Here I am slaving away over a hot stove all afternoon so we can eat together, and you stiff me. So I bring you dinner after a long day’s work, and you use that tone?” He straightens, then tuts, “Working girls.”
His eyes move to mine, widen, and then slide over my body. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think he drools a little. When his stunned expression is replaced by a leisurely grin, dimple flashing, he drawls, “I wasn’t expecting dinner and a show.”
That’s when I’m reminded I’m standing in the hall in my underwear. Not even my good underwear, but my Helena’s-sleeping-alone-again underwear. My mouth wants to gape, but I stop myself. Instead, I decide to play it cool. Heart racing, I fake poise and murmur, “I’m going to change.”
Max grins harder, placing a hand to his chest. “Please, don’t dress on my behalf.” I walk to my room, acting as normal as possible, but cringe when he calls out from behind me, “I like your undies. They’re not the usual type I see women wear. They say, ‘I’m cool and I don’t care what you think’. That’s cool. I mean—”
I can’t take his incessant rambling right now. “Max, shut up!” I shriek.
His booming laughter fills my kitchen, and although I could die from embarrassment, I like the sound of his unrestrained hilarity. My lips twitch when I realize he baited me…and I fell for it. I mutter under my breath, “Ass.”
I quickly change into black yoga pants and a large, loose yellow tee and join him in the kitchen. He’s already placed the plates and cutlery down on opposite sides of my small dining table. It smells amazing, but we’ll be sitting so close together our knees will touch. It seems far too intimate.
My favorite yellow vase lies in the sink in pieces, and I’m reminded of the crash I heard. I narrow my gaze at Max. His eyes dart from side to side, clearly panicked. He suddenly blurts out, “Someone broke that.”