Читать книгу Wild Holiday Nights - Samantha Hunter - Страница 13

4

GIDEON HAD TRAVELED a bit, usually in connection with his job, but he’d never fallen for a city like he did for New York. Or maybe it was the woman who lived here, but suddenly the bleakness of the past few months faded, making everything magical again.

He sat in the corner of the bakery studio reading as Calla worked on building and decorating the bell cake for the gathering of people outside. She’d built a clever trellis to arrange the bells on, her ingenuity captivating him. She was clever in and out of bed, he thought with a smile.

And just as thorough.

Everyone knew that the decorated windows were a huge draw in the city this time of year, but he found it hard to believe that anything could match watching Calla work.

Well, except for watching Calla stretch sensuously beneath him, her hair scattered over a pillow as he planted himself deep inside her body, but that wasn’t for public consumption.

Looking past her, he realized that nothing here was decorated. Nothing in her apartment had been, either. Not even a wreath on the door or lights in the window.

Calla was having a difficult time drawing attention to her business. The shop was surviving, but barely, she’d confided. She was even considering moving out of her apartment to save money for the bakery, living here in her office until things picked up.

Gideon admired her determination, but he hoped things wouldn’t go to that extreme. Her shop space was nice, but not livable. He thought of all the nights he’d stayed overnight at the station, sleeping on the couch in his small office or even at his desk, but that was different. Some cases took a long time to settle. Calla was thinking about giving up her living space just to save her business. There had to be another way.

He walked back into Calla’s office to make a phone call to his sister. After explaining the situation, he hoped he could get some ideas of how to help Calla, and he did. Now the trick would be to convince her to go along with it.

Calla had gone outside, handing out samples, and he was glad to see her chatting a bit with the group. And giving them her business cards. She’d listened to him about connecting with her audience.

But what made them come back every day? What made them want more?

Gideon had an idea, but he wasn’t sure Calla would like it. She was so hardworking, but that dedication to her work, along with the worry about her business, created so much stress that she was missing out on the fun. People saw her work hard, but that’s all they saw. Maybe he could help show them something more—what he saw in her.

When she came back in, her cheeks rosy from the cold, he took a dollop of icing on his finger and dabbed it to her nose before she could sit back down.

“Gideon! What—”

He grabbed a towel from the counter as he pulled her toward him with the other hand. But instead of wiping the frosting from her nose, he caught it with his tongue and then pressed his mouth to hers in a gentle, sweet kiss—literally sweet as they shared the frosting.

For a moment, heat leaped between them as Calla melted against him before remembering where they were. She pulled away, looking scandalized.

“Gideon!”

She had no need to worry. The crowd, as they often said, went wild. Applause and cheers met them from the half dozen or so people who had witnessed the kiss.

“The wedding cake lady has a boyfriend!” someone said.

“And he’s hot!” another voice chimed in.

Gideon grinned and Calla looked struck dumb.

The look she gave him wasn’t a friendly one.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed under her breath.

“Just go with it,” he said in her ear.

Calla slid Gideon a look as she promptly closed the shades.

“Gideon—”

“Calla,” he said at the same time, and they both stopped.

He smiled; she sighed.

Gideon crossed over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Hear me out. When you were working, I had an idea. I called my sister to ask her about how you could do some marketing, and I told her how you work in the window.”

“Yeah?”

Gideon nodded, encouraged at the flicker of interest in her expression. And the satisfied flush in her cheeks from his kiss.

“Yes. She said the performance baking is good, but people can’t necessarily connect with it.”

“I don’t understand—who can’t connect with cake? And weddings?”

“That’s true, but what you do is really about romance. Happily ever afters, right? And yet your storefront isn’t making that connection. Giving them something to relate to, and something to root for.”

“Or looking like someone who seems completely unprofessional.”

“I doubt that, not when they see how hard you work. Diedre said that you need to do something that could really draw attention. You have to admit, that kiss drew some attention.”

“I still don’t get it, and I can’t see how this will make people buy more cakes.”

“Because it will get them talking—to others at work, or at home—and it will bring them back. My mother was telling me about coffee commercials they ran back in the eighties, I think, where each commercial was like a story over coffee. People wanted to watch the commercials to see what happened—and then they bought the coffee because they liked the story. If people watch you and make the connection between what you do and romance, that’s stronger than just seeing how hard you work.”

Gideon could feel her tension, and turned her around and massaged her tight shoulders as he leaned in closer and kissed her neck.

“Gideon,” she moaned in half pleasure, half protest, but she didn’t move away. “I have to finish the cake.”

“You need to learn to relax a little, Calla.”

“There’s no time. And we relaxed a lot, all last night.”

He laughed against the back of her neck.

“Listen, why don’t you leave this to me? Let me try a few things, and let’s see what works?”

“Oh, I don’t know...”

Gideon nibbled on her ear, loving her taste. Sweet like the sugar she used on the cakes.

“Trust me, Calla. What can it hurt?”

She groaned as he sucked the tender skin under her ear, and Gideon was starting to lose focus, as well.

“I have to get to work,” she protested lamely, but didn’t pull away.

“In a minute.”

Gideon had a taste of her and he wanted more before he had to let her go back into her world. He left her only to lock the door before returning, wrapping his arms around her from behind, undoing the buttons of her chef’s coat, sliding his hands underneath.

Good thing she’d pulled the shades.

She arched back against him, catching her breath as his hands closed over her breasts, teasing.

“Sex produces endorphins, you know...it will help with your energy levels,” he whispered in her ear before biting the lobe lightly.

“I can’t have sex in here. It’s against health codes.”

“Right, we’ll be careful about that,” he said gruffly as he worked his hands up under her blouse, loving the warm silk of her skin.

She chuckled softly against his mouth as he kissed her again. Gideon walked her back to the small office. Inside, he eyed the desk.

“No health-code violations in here, right?”

“That’s true,” she admitted, letting him draw her inside.

Gideon couldn’t wait another second to kiss her—to really kiss her—and he loved how she deftly undid his belt, running her fingers over his stomach.

When her hands slipped inside his jeans to touch him, he caught his breath, his head falling forward to her shoulder. He was hard as a rock already, and she murmured her approval in his ear as she nipped his earlobe and stroked him gently.

Gideon was sure he’d never felt so much with anyone before in his life. Calla’s touch turned him inside out.

He darted his tongue out to taste the smooth skin of her shoulder and raised a hand to cover her breast, stroking her there in the same rhythm she did for him. She trembled as her nipple hardened under his fingers, and she sought a kiss that he was more than willing to give.

Gideon thought about taking her on the desk, which was still a possibility, but he didn’t want to break the intimacy of the kiss or the touches they were sharing, even though he was increasingly close to embarrassing himself.

Calla seemed to know, backing away from the kiss, breathless, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

“Touch me, too,” she said, before fusing her mouth to his again.

Her wish was his command. Bringing her a little closer, he slid his hand up the firm muscle of her thigh under her skirt. She’d worn tights in the winter cold, but he got them out of the way and eased his fingers inside the scrap of lace she wore under them.

“Oh, yes.” She sighed as his fingers stroked her sex, her slick skin telling him how ready she was.

It had been a lot of years since he’d done anything like this, kissing and getting off with a woman just by touching. It was wildly hot.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against her cheek as he felt his body tighten, close to release. He wanted to last, but she was a devil with those hands, not letting him escape the rising tide.

He captured the hard tip of her breast with his lips through her blouse as he moved one finger inside her, then two, thrusting into her heat and drawing a long moan from her.

“Oh, Gideon, yes...”

The way she said his name and surged against him was all he could take. Pleasure rushed from him, the orgasm stealing his breath as his body moved against her of its own volition. He gladly let it steal his sanity for the next few moments.

She cried out, too, seconds later, her head dropping back, her face a study in sheer pleasure as she rode out her release. Gideon kissed her throat, tried to catch his breath as he brought her closer, holding her against him for several long minutes.

Calla snuggled into him, warm and relaxed as she sighed in contentment against his shoulder. Gideon was a bit shaken, for reasons he couldn’t understand. He’d intended on having some fun, doing something spontaneous. What had just passed between them was, instead, unbearably intimate—more so than he would have expected for a quick office interlude.

Maybe it was the residual afterglow, but he felt closer to Calla than he had to anyone he could remember in recent memory. The fact was that he was feeling things he’d never expected to feel—or maybe he’d known all along. Maybe he’d known when he first kissed her back at the barn, and that was why he’d walked away.

Because Calla could never be casual. She was so much more than that.

He wasn’t so sure that she felt the same way about him.

“I—I should wash up and get back to work,” she said, almost apologetically, straightening her clothing.

“You do that. I’m going to go do a few things. It won’t take long. Call me if you need me,” he said, leaning in for a long, soft kiss.

“As if there’s any question.”

Surprise flickered in his brain at her response, and he wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. With a smile, he left the office, checking to make sure everything was secure before he left.

Now he had to set a plan in motion, to romance Calla in her bakery window and hope that it not only saved her shop, but convinced her that maybe they were more than a holiday fling, as well.

* * *

IT STARTED WITH the Christmas lights.

Gideon had returned to the shop with his arms chock-full of Christmas lights. He’d insisted that she needed to decorate her shop and her window and door.

Calla found it impossible to work with him crawling all over the place hanging lights and decorations, so she’d done the inevitable—she’d given in and helped.

Surprisingly, many of the people walking home from work or out strolling with their dogs had stopped to watch, applauding with oohs and ahhs when Gideon turned the lights on.

Then he pulled a piece of mistletoe out of his pocket and held it over her head for a kiss.

This one she granted him happily. The shop did look more in the holiday spirit, and it made Calla feel so, as well.

“Thank you, Gideon. This is lovely. I didn’t have time to decorate, but so many people are stopping to look at the lights.”

He nodded, clearly excited. He was so sweet, she thought, her heart warm.

“And did you notice what I put over in this window? They’re noticing that right along with it.”

She’d been working on the other side of the shop, and hadn’t seen what he’d been up to. Letting him lead her outside, eyes closed, she opened them when he said and was struck by what she found.

Twelve color pictures from her website of some of the most elaborate cakes she’d made that year hung in the window, all framed with lights.

“Gideon...this is...awesome.”

“I thought so, too. How could someone not want one of your cakes? The website address is listed at the bottom of each one, too.”

Calla shook her head, barely feeling the cold as she stared at her bright, lively windows. The pictures were definitely eye-catching from the sidewalk, and even from the street.

“You’re brilliant. How could I have missed putting pictures of cakes in the window? I have the catalog in here on the counter, but I never considered this.”

“Well, it was one of Diedre’s ideas, and she is brilliant. You can’t think of everything, Calla. You have a lot to deal with here, making these cakes.”

“Remind me to send your sister a thank-you. This is very sweet, Gideon,” she said again, feeling a little choked up.

Calla had felt alone in her career since she’d started out. While she had friends, they were also often her competitors. Her family was far away, and supported her in a general sense, but not like this. No one had ever done anything like this for her. Even as she stood there, people stopped to check out the window and pointed to which cakes they liked best.

They went back inside, and Calla turned to Gideon, giving him a spontaneous hug. It didn’t matter to her if anyone was watching.

“I did have fun today. I’ll have to get here a little earlier tomorrow to finish, but this really was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” he said, loosening the bun she’d pulled her hair back into and running his fingers through it in a way that lit up her nerve endings as brightly as the shop.

“Maybe we could get some dinner and head back to my place?”

“Sounds great. I’m starving,” he said with a chuckle, backing away.

Calla missed his touch when he let go. Oh, no. That wasn’t good. She had to be tired—she was feeling far more warm and fuzzy than she should. This was only a fling, only sex. And Gideon was just being nice, helping her with the shop.

“Me, too, really,” she said with a smile, closing up and grabbing her coat. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”

As they walked out onto the street, Gideon didn’t let go of her hand.

“So, you know the city and the food better than I do. Any preference?”

“It’s too late for a lot of restaurants if we don’t have reservations, especially this time of year, but I have a friend who runs a small place in Spanish Harlem where you can get the best burrito in the city.”

“Better than that place on Rudd St. in Houston?”

“Oh, man, way better,” she said, rolling her eyes. “No comparison.”

She knew the spot he meant; it was one of the places cops ate regularly because it was open all night. It had a decent menu for a take-out place, but nothing like Diego’s.

“Let’s go, then,” he said jovially.

“We should take a cab—it’s in East Harlem, and probably not a place you want to leave your rental car,” she said, letting go of his hand as she stepped to the curb and hailed a taxi with an earsplitting whistle.

The yellow cab appeared at the curb, screeching to a halt.

“Wow,” Gideon said, holding the door for her as they got in. “That was impressive. I tried to grab one a few times today, and it took me three tries.”

“It depends on the time of day, the weather, and if they are on duty or not. And a good strong whistle doesn’t hurt. One of the useful things my brothers taught me to do.”

Gideon was sure a nice pair of legs helped, too.

The ride was fast and furious, and Calla let Gideon keep her close in the back of the cab. Far too soon, the cabbie pulled up to the curb again.

“Are you sure this is it?” Gideon asked, looking around as they paid and got out of the cab.

Calla laughed and took his arm. “Yes, quite sure.”

A short ways down the street, she turned him into an alley and opened a door on the side, where the spicy scents of peppers and cumin met them and made her mouth water.

“Awesome, there’s a table open,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward a corner in the back.

The small cantina was crowded and alive with chatter as they claimed what seemed to be the last table in the place. Calla slid up onto the raised seat, victorious.

“I wouldn’t have expected this from the outside,” Gideon said, looking around in appreciation at the warm brick walls decorated with authentic Mexican textiles and other art. “It smells like heaven in here.”

“There are a lot of places like this in the city. Real estate is expensive and hard to come by, so small hidden gems like this are everywhere.”

“And you know the owner?”

“Yes. Diego is the head chef, as well. He grew up in this neighborhood.”

As soon as she said it, her friend appeared at the edge of the kitchen and spotted her. He smiled, heading directly toward her. Calla met him halfway with a hearty hug.

“Calla, what a wonderful surprise.”

“I have a friend visiting from Texas. I couldn’t let him leave the city without tasting your amazing burritos.”

Calla lead Diego back to the table and she saw Gideon watching them, his eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tight.

“Gideon, this is Diego Jones, the owner and the chef. And the guy who saved my butt in sauces back in school.”

“Nice to meet you, Gideon,” Diego said heartily, shaking Gideon’s hand. “Dinner is on the house tonight. I got my hands on some fresh stone crab today, and I’m using it for late-night special burritos. Do you like seafood?”

Calla smiled. Diego was one of the warmest and most generous people she knew, and it came out in his personality and his cooking.

“A crab burrito?” Gideon said, somewhat skeptically.

Calla squeezed Diego’s arm as she levered herself back up into her chair. “Trust me, you won’t want to miss it.”

“Bring it on, then,” Gideon said with another slight smile.

“I hope you’ll enjoy it. Calla, you need to not be such a stranger.”

Diego kissed her cheek before being called by another table; he backed away with a smile.

“Believe me, you won’t ever find any food like what you are about to have here. His combinations of flavors and textures are mind-blowing.”

Gideon nodded. “You two seem...close.”

“We are. I’ve always been more of a baker than a cook, and I met Diego in a course on sauces. I was botching it entirely. He saved my bacon...or my sauce, I suppose. He spent a lot of time out of class helping me perfect my technique.”

“For sauce?”

“Well, yeah, what else?”

“It certainly is a popular place,” Gideon commented as a server delivered two huge, colorful margaritas to their table.

Calla watched him touch the glass, picking up a strange vibe. He was tense, suddenly quiet, and even a bit surly.

Was Gideon jealous?

And why did that idea make her have to fight a female sense of satisfaction? She and Gideon weren’t an item. They weren’t even in a relationship. In a few days he’d be gone.

She was probably imagining his reaction. He was very likely just tired.

“Calla? Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. I was just thinking about this place. He doesn’t even advertise, which is amazing,” Calla said wistfully. “He has a terrific product, good food and word spreads about things like that.”

“You have a terrific product, too. But he seems to cater to a local area, like you said. He grew up here. He can feed fifty people at a time, every night. You can only make one cake at a time. It’s completely different.”

“You’re right. I lose perspective sometimes.”

Like right now? It felt so good to confide in Gideon. To share her burdens and have someone’s support. She could easily lose perspective if she didn’t take care.

“It will work out. You’re too talented for it not to,” he added, pulling her hand up to his lips.

Calla shivered at the touch of his mouth on her skin, and relented.

“Probably a hundred talented chefs fail here every day,” she said realistically.

“You won’t be one of them,” he said, holding her gaze and flicking his tongue out to taste the back of her pinky finger. That scrambled her thoughts immediately.

Their food was delivered just in time to divert their attention and reset the magic of the evening. Calla was relieved, as she really didn’t want this to end.

Not yet.