Valhalla Cupcakes (6 page)

Her miserable circumstances came rushing back at her as she dragged herself toward the bathroom, and she pushed it all aside, trying to remain positive about her very first day in business for herself.

This was her lifelong dream after all, and even without Maria to help her, even with the looming threat of another visit from the mobsters, she was determined to make the best of it. After a quick, energizing shower, she felt able to face the person who’d featured heavily in her dreams. She couldn’t decide if he was a silver lining or part of the cloud just yet. It was definitely going to be useful to have another body around for the (hopefully) huge crowds of customers that came in today, and what a body he had.

Standing outside his bedroom door, a million reasons to let him sleep raced through her mind. He wouldn’t be wearing any clothes and she’d fall into a coma of lust. He’d be completely untrainable on the modern cash register, measure ingredients wrong, and scare the (hopefully) huge crowds of people away when he lost his temper from the aforementioned. He would distract her with his face, causing her to mess up the recipes, causing everyone to spit out the cupcakes in disgust, never to return again. If he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and she didn’t happen to fall into a coma of lust, she might fall into the tiny bed with him, spending the whole morning …

God, Audrey, get it together, she told herself. She had to institute a blanket ‘no touching’ rule to keep him from doing all the little, sexy things he’d so smugly got away with the day before. She really should have done it then, but he was so irresistible the words wouldn’t come out. She’d liked that he’d wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She couldn’t be distracted today, though, it was too important of a day. And she couldn’t let him sleep, she needed his help. The reason his curse had been broken in the first place was because she needed him, so she had to take advantage of the fact that she had a hale and hearty Viking at her beck and call. She tapped on his door, but got no response, so carefully opened it a crack and peeked into the room.

“Erik,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “Um, Mr. Agnarsson? I need you to wake up.”

She thought she saw him stir and pushed the door open wider, grabbing onto the doorframe at the sight of him sprawled across the mattress, only covered by a thin sheet. His arms and chest were uncovered, and one leg poked out from under it, hanging off the too small bed. It appeared he did sleep naked, and she told herself she should throw something at his head and then run, but instead she took a step into the room, marveling at how smooth and golden his skin looked.

His chest rose and fell evenly as he peacefully slept, his dark blond locks strewn across his pillow in a tangle she longed to run her fingers through. His lips were slightly parted and she felt a lazy warmth steal over her as she recalled his stolen kisses. She wanted those lips on her again, and leaned over, gently brushing his hair away from his face.

“Wake up,” she said, poking him in the shoulder. It took all her willpower not to trace her fingers along his collarbone.

His eyes remained closed, but she saw his mouth quirk in a smile. Technically, he was awake, so he wasn’t defying her order, but he was going to make things difficult for her, as usual. He rolled over and ran his fingertips down the length of her arm.

“I like a little exercise in the mornings,” he said. “Care to help me out with that?”

She watched dumbly as his fingers made their way back up her arm, and blinked dizzily at his inviting smile. She had never become so stupid over a handsome man before, but it was as if he had some kind of aura about him that caused her brain cells to roll over and play dead.

All she wanted to do was peel off her clothes and fling off his sheet and crawl on top of him. She swore if she could just look at his eyes every day, she’d never have to go outside again. They were the exact same blue as the prettiest summer sky, as he gazed up at her with pure lust. She was so ready for whatever he had to offer, she thought they could still get downstairs in time to make the cupcakes before the shop opened, and had her leg half on the bed when she came to her senses.

What was she thinking? She was thinking about all the different things she wanted this man to do to her body, not about what needed to be done. And on top of that, she couldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how he got to her. She had to fight to keep from stamping her foot in disappointed frustration, wondering if the satisfaction she might get from giving in would be worth it.

“How about it?” he asked, licking his lips enticingly. “A little workout?”

She flicked his goosebump-inducing fingers off her arm. “New rule. No stroking.” She thought guiltily she should have instituted the blanket ‘no touching’ rule, but once again, the words wouldn’t come out. Damn it, but she liked how he mischievously found new ways to touch her, and at least she wasn’t in a coma. That was something. “If you want a workout, I have some yoga videos you can do. Alone. But not until after you get dressed and come downstairs and help me bake cupcakes.”

She smiled triumphantly at his astonished expression, quickly retreating when it threatened to get stormy. She’d given her orders at last, he’d have to follow them. If she could manage to stay far enough away from him, not look directly at him, and tune out his deep, melodic voice, she might actually get to have a grand opening today.

By the time he came downstairs, dressed in the jeans and t-shirt she bought him, both items of clothing clinging to every muscle and bulge, she was so engrossed in whipping up a batch of cocoa mocha batter that she only froze completely for a few seconds to take him in. Diligently keeping her eyes trained slightly to the left of his shoulder, she showed him how to slice strawberries and shave chocolate.

“Do you think you can measure?” she wondered aloud in his direction.

She worked at a breakneck pace, but only had three batches of cupcakes in the industrial oven and needed another pair of hands mixing batter. His shirt was splattered with pink strawberry juice and she held back a yelp at the mangled mess he’d made of the fruit. She’d meant those to be garnishes, but now she’d have to use them for frosting instead. Sighing, she handed him Maria’s abandoned apron and sighing harder when he just looked at it, she snapped it away and reached up to put it over his head for him.

“It’s to keep you from making a worse mess of yourself,” she said irritably, reaching around his back to tie it for him.

He picked her up under her armpits and sat her down on the counter, nudging himself between her knees.

Little sparks of light exploded in her vision at his proximity. Oh sweet Jesus, what now? She knew she could have him back to work with a few words, but her brain was overridden by her body, waiting excitedly to see what he did next.

He merely looked down at her, a serious expression on his face. He shook the hair out of his eyes so he could better mesmerize her, and she thought with dismay she should have had him wear a hairnet or at least a ponytail while he was in the kitchen.

Her hands, completely against her will, rose and pushed the rest of his hair behind his shoulders, gathering it in one hand. It was so soft and pretty, yet somehow so completely manly, she felt weak under its power. Thinking she could Samson him, she dug in her apron pocket, finding a band and deftly wrapping it around his thick locks until it was all pulled neatly away from his face.

Defeated, she leaned back on the counter, his big body still wedged between her legs. He looked even more handsome with his hair all tied back to show off his face. She just couldn’t win.

He smiled at her and scooted her closer to him, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist or have them sticking straight out in an uncomfortable splits position.

“I can’t kiss you,” he said. “You took licking away, which was really cruel, in my opinion. And no more stroking? That’s just unfair. So, I wonder what I’m left with.”

She closed her eyes, both praying he’d figure something out, and considering giving him back kissing. He’d been so good at it. His mouth on hers had been better than wine, chocolate, and Xanax combined, to soothe away her troubles while simultaneously making her entire body come alive. She could tell him he could kiss her for five minutes then the rule automatically reinstated. That would be a perfect way to get what she wanted so desperately but not lose her authority.

“You can …”

The ding of the oven timer woke her up from her feverish fantasy and she smacked at his chest to let her down.

“This is a science,” she explained, scrambling to the oven and taking out the pans. “I’ve perfected these recipes over the last ten years. Even a minute over and they aren’t as good.”

He looked at her for the first time without either lust or pity in his eyes. It almost looked like respect, and that one little glance restored her drive to get the shop open on time.

“Come with me,” she said, leading him to the counter area and showing him the register.

There were only a few prices. Regular cupcakes, mini cupcakes, coffee or juice, and a break for people who bought by the dozen. The cash register wasn’t tricky for someone who’d actively lived in this time and was used to computers, but Erik looked at it like it was a venomous snake when she showed him how to ring up a sale.

“You’re not going to break it,” she assured him. “Just practice ringing up imaginary sales. Pretend a whole bunch of scenarios. If you put in the amount they give you, the machine tells you how much to give back, see? You don’t even need to think.”

He poked the buttons and told her she owed him seven dollars.

“Oh, that’s good,” she squealed. “Okay, here’s ten.” She mimed giving him a bill. He rolled his eyes but punched it in, smiling when he saw how easy it really was. The drawer popped open and she showed him the numbers on the bills. “I need to get back in the kitchen, but you keep practicing with this. Later on I’ll show you how to do credit cards, but that’s even easier so don’t worry about it.”

She hurried back and made the rest of the cupcakes in such a whirlwind, she didn’t remember any of it by the time they were placed carefully in the display. It was just shy of nine, when she planned to open, and she bounced excitedly, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

“Are you all right, Audrey?” Erik asked, shutting the register and coming around the counter.

“I’ve wanted this so long,” she said, waving her arm around the dining area. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it gets taken away.”

“It won’t,” he said stormily. “Just make your pastries and leave the rest to me.”

“Thank you,” she said. “If we have a good day, you can have kissing back. At least for a little while.”

He grinned and raised his eyebrows, sending a thrill of anticipation through her. She unlocked the front door and turned on the open sign, throwing her arms around his neck in her happiness.

“Oh, gosh, I almost forgot.” She found the little hats Seda made and put one on her head, reaching up on her tiptoes to place the other one atop his.

“What is this?” he asked, pulling it off and staring aghast at it. He crumpled the pink felt in his hand and held it out as if it had an unpleasant odor.

“It’s a Viking helmet,” she said, gently extricating it from his grasp and putting it back on his head.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, about to take it off again, looking like he might destroy it this time.

“You have to wear it,” she said with a sigh, hating that he made things so difficult.

With wide eyes and clenched jaw, he mashed it back on his head, looking so miserable she coughed to hide her laughter.

“It looks adorable on you.”

“It’s not even accurate. What’s with the horns?”

“Didn’t Viking helmets have horns?” she asked.

“They did not. Nor were they pink. Or glittery. Seriously, Audrey, I beg of you to let me take it off.”

“But it’s kind of a uniform. You don’t have a pink shirt like mine—”

“Thank the gods,” he interrupted.

“Since you don’t have a shirt, you should at least wear the hat. It makes you look like you work here. And it’s freaking cute.”

“Audrey, I cannot be cute.”

She giggled and poked him playfully in the side. “Too late, because you are.”

He growled and reached for her, but she darted around one of the tables, unable to hold back her laughter. He looked so fierce, even with the tiny pink helmet on.

“You can’t grab me, remember?” she taunted through her laughter.

He quickly caught up with her, imprisoning her against the stairway with his hands against the wall on either side of her, not even touching her. When she tried to slip under his arms, he shot out his foot, pinning her with no hope of escape. She stopped laughing, her breath catching at his nearness and raw power, until her eyes made their way back up to his hat and she snorted again.

“Let me take it off,” he begged. She shook her head, struggling to stop laughing, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought of something I can do to you,” he said.

“What?” she squeaked nervously, his diabolical smile curling her toes.

With lightning speed, he tickled her ribs until she dropped to the floor gasping for breath. He followed her down, his fingers traveling from her ribs to her armpits to her thighs, succeeding in finding the most sensitive spots.