Authors: D.S. Roi
“Woman, you just keep jerkin’ my chain.” Asher’s hands went to his hips. He bent a little lower to his mother and squinted.
“Sophia is a good girl.” Sally’s retort came with fire in it. “Pretty and more on your level. You
will
be her date for this event. You will behave and remain in good manners. You
will
be photographed together and make a lovely couple.”
“Oh, I love it.” He chuckled. “Arranged fake dating. What the hell is this about?”
“She has an attraction for you, Asher. I thought you would be thrilled to have a woman of class and beauty at your side during such a prestigious event.” Sally shrugged before crossing her arms.
“Really? You marry me off to one of your crones; you get a percentage of the funds Gerald left behind. Is that it?”
“Stop it,” she said, dropping both arms down to her side.
“You get to prove to your stuffed-shirt, retired, millionaire judge maybe your kids aren’t such screw-up’s. Then you might be worth a slice of his pie.”
“Asher Wilmington, I said stop.” Her brow was furrowing into angry lines.
“Well, he’s too old to cut the mustard, but maybe he’ll marry you and pamper you the rest of his ten years of livin’. Even if you sign a prenuptial, you’ll be mighty comfortable for a while. How much dough does it take for Sally to step on Cyana’s toes? To treat a decent human being like trash?”
“She is trash,” Sally hissed. “Make certain you throw her away before the wedding.”
Asher’s hands tightened into fists. He growled, pivoted away from his mother and froze. “Cyana?”
She stood at the doorway wide-eyed. Her voice traveled out small. “I left my purse on the table.”
“Handle it.” Sally spit the words out to Asher. “I’m stepping outside for a smoke.” She twirled on her five inch heels and sashayed towards the glass doors.
He turned to fetch Cyana’s belongings. She hadn’t moved from the spot when he returned. Her face was drawn; sights teamed with hurt. She trembled, reaching out for the handbag and nearly snatched it to run.
He caught her wrist. “Hold on, Philly.” He tugged her back to him, glimpsing the flash of her gaze before she lowered her face toward the floor. It was too late. He witnessed the tear spill before she could hide it. Pain racked his chest. “Dammit, Cyana, this changes nothing.”
She shook her head. “Don’t, Asher. We both know this won’t work. Not in the way you need it. I have to go.” She clutched her purse to her chest before wiping at the tear and looking up to him. “Thank you for your help.” She set a kiss on his cheek before scurrying off.
T
he first sob ripped from her as she cleared the Milway gates. Cyana slapped her hand to her mouth to hold back. Loss tore through her, twisted her gut into a knot. The tears stung before they streamed her cheeks.
We’re just too different.
She was far too emotional to drive and maneuvered the small vehicle off the road. Cyana buried her face in her hands as waves of grief racked her body.
She parked the Gremlin in the Huffing home driveway and sucked in a few breaths. A deep ache settled in her chest before she opened the car door and climbed the stairs. The aroma of spareribs and vegetables invaded Cyana’s nose, instantly wetting her mouth. Through the walkway from the side door, she could see Iona standing at the counter and plating.
“Just in time,” Iona said without looking up. “I hope you’re hungry because it’s taste test time for course number four.”
“I’m starved,” Cyana said. She set her purse on the counter and took a seat at one of the stools next to Mama. Iona filled four bowls with a brown sauce and dropped four fat ravioli into it at a straight line before finishing it off with cheese and green onion garnish. She heaped a dollop of light green cream on the side of each plate.
“Ms. Sally Wilmington finally got us a guest list,” Mama said from the laptop.
The mention of Sally knotted Cyana’s middle.
“Um-hum. It’s got lots of VIPs on it, girl.” Iona glanced up to make eye contact. By the knit in her brow, Cyana knew the question was coming. “What’s wrong?”
Cyana groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Iona slid the plates over to the bar area of the kitchen counter and wiped her hands clean before grabbing spoons.
“Did things not go well over at the Milway?” Mama asked.
“The cakes are fine. Mama, they look great.” Cyana smiled.
Iona rounded the large counter separating the cooking area from the dining room and handed out the flatware. “Then why the long face?” she asked.
“I met Sally.” Cyana grabbed her spoon.
“So, how did it go?” Iona posed the question while fetching Josiah from the playpen to set him in the high chair with a bowl of ravioli.
“Fine,” Cyana said.
“It doesn’t look like things went fine,” Iona spoke, chopping the meat-filled noodles into toddler pieces.
“Well, I’m not able to drive my car up to the house anymore. I have to park it at the end of the driveway and walk to the mansion.
“What?” Mama asked.
“That’s crazy.” Iona declared over Josiah’s cry to “Eat mama.” She handed the boy his spoon. He dug into his food with gusto.
Cyana smiled at his eagerness to get a hold of his mother’s cooking.
“Apparently the Milway, or the Wilmingtons, must uphold some kind of standard appearance.”
“Appearance?” Iona sat at the counter with a look of confusion.
“Mm,” Mama said, “the appearance of wealth. I’ve seen her kind before.”
“The woman is a complete snob. Can you believe she called me trash? Right in front of Asher like it was normal for her to talk about people like that.”
Mama reached over and rubbed her back. The gesture sent a shot of soothing love into the hole created in Cyana’s chest.
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I know she’s a client and Huffing Kitchen is really banking on this wedding, but the woman’s the devil.” Cyana shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking or what I hoped Asher and I could become. I can’t deal with people like her. She completely hurt my feelings and brought out some very angry energy in Asher. Scary energy.”
“How much do you like this man, Cyana?” Mama asked.
She stared at the beautiful plate in front of her for a moment. “I don’t know. I think…I started falling for him.” The confession brought on a new round of tears. Cyana covered her mouth to hide her face while she dropped her sight to her lap.
“Oh, baby. Don't be upset,” Mama soothed and rubbed her back.
“I can't help it.” The words barely whispered out between her fingers. She gulped for air. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again, but I gave my heart to him before I knew who he was.” She shook her head. “I can’t be in love with him. Mama, I can’t follow my heart. I don’t trust it to keep me safe.”
C
yana couldn’t remember the last time she loathed a day as much as she dreaded this one. Monday was always rough at the paper, mostly because she didn’t care for the job much. For now, it provided the income to support Eric and grow her startup capital. She worried her bottom lip and stared at the light against the ceiling.
The edge of the bed shifted under the small weight. “Auntie.U
p.
”
She smiled at Josiah before tugging him to lie next to her. He cuddled into her and shoved a thumb in his mouth. He flashed his grey-eyed stare, but after a few blinks, he gave in to tiredness. She ran her fingers through his light colored curls and sighed, tucking his fluffy duck under his arm.
The morning’s not all bad.
She waited until the scent of bacon hit her nose to scoop up the sleeping toddler. She cleaned him, admiring how heavily he slept through the entire process. Tugging him to her shoulder, she went downstairs to the kitchen. Iona smiled at her from the stove.
“Good morning.”Cyana smiled at Ion
a
.
“Girl, mothering looks so good on you,” Iona said, while she tugged Cyana’s premade cinnamon roll dough from the fridge to arrange on a baking sheet.
Cyana rubbed Josiah’s bac
k.
The thought of her undisciplined behavior with Asher warmed her cheeks. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Protection from STDs and pregnancy hadn’t been a part of her everyday life, but she threw caution to the wind with Asher. She should have been more careful. Her past was enough to make her aware of how strong her passionate desires could be. A quiver of regret ran through her belly. Her attraction to Asher took her strength. Or had twenty years just been too long? Had she made a mistake by vowing to keep her heart closed? Perhaps, if she’d practiced walking away, she could have mastered the art of goodbyes.
A strong sense of wrong shunted through her system as she puffed a breath and headed deeper into the kitchen. No. That just wasn’t her. She was the responsible one, as Iona had said, focused on her son and her dream. Asher distracted her. She sat on the glider in the far corner of the dining area and rocke
d.
She would be able to walk away if Asher hadn’t been such a good person, if he hadn’t felt right. Damn, even now she missed him.
I can’t trust these emotions.
“What time is the tasting today?” Iona asked, ripping her from regrets.
A piercing jolt of anticipation seared through the butterflies in her belly at the thought of seeing Asher. Cyana took a long breath to gather her wit. “Thankfully, Rebecca will be at the mansion around one o’clock. That should be enough time to, I don’t know,” she shrugged her free shoulder, “get myself together.”
“Do you want me to go with you? Just in case the bully is there. I can leave Josiah with Mama.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Despite the early morning, one o’clock came faster than Cyana wanted. It was a good idea to ride with Iona. She needed the laugh and barely noticed when they entered the gate of the Milway.
“Don’t even worry about Sally. Once Rebecca takes one bite of your cakes, the contract’s yours,” Iona assured.
“I appreciate you coming along.”
“No problem, Ce Ce. Just remember, the bride is the target. Not Sally.”
The door to the Milway opened almost as soon as Iona parked the Civic out front. Asher sauntered to the top of the stairs accompanied by a slender auburn-haired beauty. Cyana’s heart thundered with such intensity she averted her gaze, staring at the couple’s feet before peeling herself from the passenger side seat.
Her sister gave a large warm smile as she rounded the car. Iona approached the stairs with so much pep in her step Cyana struggled to keep up. “Good afternoo
n,
Mr. Wilmington.”
“Good afternoon,” he said. Iona shook hands with Asher. “Iona, I would like for you to meet the bride, Rebecca. Rebecca, this is your caterer, Iona Huffing, Executive Chef of Huffing Kitchen. It’s also my pleasure to introduce her sister, Cyana, whose lovely cakes you’ll taste today.”
Cyana shook hands with the bride after Iona and forced herself not to peer at Asher until she could be certain her heart wouldn’t leap from her chest.
“Pleasure to meet you both.” Rebecca held a mild southern accent, sounding like a native Floridian. “Asher has had a time keeping me away from the fridge when he told me the cake samples were here.”
He laughed. Warmth flooded Cyana with the rich sound. “Rebecca’s had something of a sweet tooth today.” Cyana caught his movement out of the corner of her eye and reminded herself not to look directly at him until she was sure her heartbeat was under control.
Oh crap. This is so ridiculous.
He reached around Rebecca’s shoulder. “Why don’t you lead the way, Darlin’?”
Rebecca laughed and twirled to enter the house. Iona followed. Cyana tried to take a step but Asher gripped her wrist. A sharp inhale stole her surprised cry before his heat warmed her body. Her attention settled on his boots. He leaned down to whisper to her.
“Why won’t you talk to me? I called your sister damn near all night yesterday.”
She moved her rogue curl and shifted to hi
m,
ready to dismiss his attempts to contact her. The words hung in her throat.
Holy mam
a.
He’d gotten a haircut and was clean shaven. The man polished up really nice and left her with her mouth hanging open.
“Look, I was worried about you. I’m not gonna do this now. I know it’s your big day, but we are talking after this. Understood?”
Of course, a man like him would be used to getting his way. He would make demands of her. She’d be damned if he would tell her what she’d be doing after the cake presentation. Without a wor
d,
she pivoted out of his grasp and followed her sister inside.
Rebecca and Iona were busy discussing the house and the wedding as they led the way. Rebecca seemed genuinely excited as she squealed about whatever the two found interesting. Cyana was keenly aware of the presence following her into the kitchen.
“Ladies, if you will have a seat, Cyana and I will reveal the main attraction.” Asher’s hand settled on her lower back, forcing her stance to straighten.
Iona and Rebecca both took a seat at the kitchen island. Asher coaxed her into the fridge. He propped it opened with a brick, but let the door close onto it. He captured her arm from behind and twirled her. She slammed into his bulk with a gasp before his lips crashed onto hers.
His kiss blasted away the chill of the fridge, heating her to the core. She melted into him and stifled a moan. Her nipples hardened and pussy flexed, eager and willing to take the attention he’d lavished on her with expertise. Her spine arched, sending the tips of her breasts to rub against his firm chest.
A shiver roamed through her, but it didn’t generate from her. Asher’s body had shaken with such yearning the reaction transferred. He gripped her ass, nearly smashed her into his hardness. She gasped. He enticed her tongue into his mouth, suckled it with gentle demand until a mew left her throat. Her only comfort was the burst of laughter from Rebecca and Iona in the kitchen signaled they hadn’t heard.
Asher ripped away from her mouth, settling his forehead against hers. He shifted his hands. The strength of his fingers dug into her hips, massaging roughly, as if he couldn’t decide whether to free her or not.
A wave of relief warmed her. She hadn’t been the only one fighting to remain sane after not seeing or hearing from him. He lifted his head with heavy breaths, grinding his thickening cock into her belly. Tendrils of lust grabbed at her rationale.
We can’t do this here.
She needed to be strong, to resist him. His two-toned eyes caught her confused and hungry gaze while he hauled his body away.
“I’m sorry. Talk. Yeah.” He rubbed her arms while he whispered and shifted her closer. “Damn. The chef’s uniform looks good on you,” he complimented her jacket and pants. She could only stare at him, not understanding what he could have seen so attractive about it. “Cyana we need to talk first, but, ah hell…” He was on her before she could get a word out. She dove into his kiss regardless of her self-coaching. Asher seemed to tear himself away. He adjusted the bulk below his buckle.
Oh crap.
She licked her bruised lips.
I kissed him back. Why did I kiss him back?
“Dammit.” Asher shifted onto his heels and blew out a breath as if resetting his focus. “I missed you.” She watched him as his brow knit. He shook his head, as if he could kick himself for what he’d said. “Okay.” He sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed. “We're gonna talk.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “You good? You okay?”
Cyana couldn't make a peep. The tremor in her belly had spread to her hands. She clasped them in front of her while lowering her sight. The act brought her attention to the hunk of flesh below his buckle. She nodded timidly, but couldn't divert her stare.
“Okay,” Asher whispered. “Let’s get this done. You come out first. And for God’s sake, stay on the side of the cart closest to Rebecca.” He walked to the other side of the cart.
Cyana took another glance at his obvious problem. With a long breath, she pressed her tingling lips together. She unveiled the cakes and grabbed her end. They exited the refrigerator. The scent of sugar brought a soothing calm to her shoulders.
Rebecca’s hands framed her face with excitement. “They’re so gorgeous.” She squealed. “You made all of these?”
“Only for you, Ms. Gard,” Cyana said.
Rebecca came to her feet while Iona wore a big smile and gave a wink of approval. The bride scurried over to the cakes. “They are just lovely. You do amazing work.”
“Thank you, Ms. Gard.”
“Trust me, the real magic is under the icing,” Asher said.
“You got to taste my cake, Asher?” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “No fair.”
He laughed. “I better get you a fork before I end up in the dog house.”
The tensions in the kitchen soon faded as Rebecca revealed her fun-loving wonderful personality. They were enjoying bits of the five cakes with a serving of premium coffee.
“There is a lot of cake left,” Rebecca said. “All of them are really wonderful. I think my favorite is the red velvet.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them. I understand the bridal party will be arriving this week?”
“Tomorrow,” Rebecca said with a groan. “This entire week seems to be planned for me. I’m glad I got here a day ahead of my Matron of Honor. She’s my best friend. I love her, but she can drive me crazy at times with her plan-a-holic lifestyle. She’s almost as bad as—”
“Helloooo?” The high-pitched voice sounding from the foyer made all but Iona cringe.
“Speak of the devil,” Rebecca grumbled.
“Did you invite her?” Asher asked.
Rebecca shook her head profusely. Sally entered the doorway with a smile. She was dressed in a fitted pink suit with her hair in a bun. “The photos came out marvelous, darling.” She strolled into the room, sight fixed on Asher as if he were the only one who existed. “It was the perfect time of day. The perfect sun. Of course, I looked stunning in the gown.”
“Why are you here, Mother?” Asher asked. He didn’t share his mother’s enthusiasm. His pinched expression made Cyana shift off her stool and to her feet.
“To see Becky, of course.” Sally then regarded Rebecca. “Hello, darling, how are you?”
Rebecca seemed to plaster on a smile less genuine than what Cyana had noticed earlier. “I’m more than fine, Ms. Wilmington.”
Sally sucked her teeth, waving her hand. “With all the formalities. We’re practically family, dear.” She reached across the island to stroke Rebecca’s hand. “I can’t wait to show you the markups of ideas. I love the colors you’ve picked for your wedding, darling.”Just as she spok
e,
Miguel entered the doorway with a large box in his hand.
“Señora Wilmington, where would you like these?”
“Right there.” Sally pointed to the space at the end of the island in front of Iona. “In fact, the photo shoot went so well I decided to celebrate.” Sally took both of Rebecca’s hands and commanded the young bride’s gaze. “You won’t believe what I found. There’s a fabulous bakery downtown. I just loved the look of it. I thought since the wedding cake wasn’t set in stone, it might not be a bad idea to give you a few options.”
A shot of disgust coiled in Cyana’s belly. She pushed away from the counter. Asher settled a hand on her elbow to still her.
“Mother, you are not in charge of the food. We’re going with Huffing Kitchen.”
Sally released a light laugh. “I’ve never coordinated a wedding where there have been no last minute changes, my dear boy. Besides, you haven’t offered Becky any choices to compare. A bride can’t make such pivotal decisions based off one choice. It’s not fair, Asher.”
“On the contrary, Huffing Kitchen is the South’s newest up and coming restaurant,” Asher said.
“You still haven’t given a reason why not to present a more traditional cuisine.” Sally turned up her nose.
“Because it’s not your choice to make.” The statement came out flat, causing a silence in the room. His words seemed to have lit a fire in Sally as the anger glinted behind her gaze. She shifted away from the bride.