“A lot of what? Dick? Dylan, this is not a good idea.”
I limply shrug. I’m not at all surprised he’s reacting this way; in fact, I predicted it. But, unlike Joey, I’m willing to give Brooke the benefit of the doubt. And as long as she doesn’t try to molest him like the day before Juls’ wedding, things shouldn’t get too hostile. I gotta give the girl a chance. “She needs a job or she’ll lose her apartment.”
He throws his hands into the air. “Oh, I’m sorry. How is that our problem?”
“Joey,” Juls scolds. “Don’t be so rude.”
“She’s on a probationary period. If she messes up, I’ll fire her without thinking twice about it. Right, Juls?”
She nods in my direction before turning back toward my heated assistant. “Right. So, calm the fuck down, JoJo.” She makes a face at him and he issues her his smile, softening her expression. “And a lot of dick? Like you’re one to talk.”
The three of us start laughing, letting go of the stress of knowing Brooke Wicks will soon be gracing us with her presence. This could actually be a good thing. We are extremely busy, and having another employee means being able to spend more time in my kitchen instead of ringing up customers. So, I’m not going to let this worry me; I have enough stress with my upcoming wedding to last me a lifetime.
Juls gives us both hugs before she exits the shop to go tackle a bride. Just as a customer slips inside and makes her way up to the counter, my phone beeps in my pocket. Joey gives me a smile, indicating he’s got things handled and allows me to slip into the back.
Reese: What are you wearing?
I giggle as I hop onto a stool.
Me: Are you spanking it right now, handsome?
Reese: That depends on your answer.
I’m definitely not wearing anything worthy of a wank session. My ripped skinny jeans and flour-covered apron have seen better days, so I let my imagination take over.
Me: A skin-tight, pale-pink dress that stops just below my panty line. Or, it would, if I was wearing panties.
Reese: You are such a tease. Do you have any idea how hard my dick is for you right now? I could probably fuck you through a wall.
Jesus.
Me: It’s a shame you’ll have to handle that situation on your own. I’m locked in consultations the rest of the day. Otherwise, I’d give you a hand. Or a mouth.
Reese: You can handle my situation as soon as you get home. I want that pussy wet and ready for me.
I smile, loving that dominant edge in every word he types.
Me: Always is.
No imagination needed there.
After listening to Joey rant about all the possible ways Brooke could screw my business over, six o’clock finally came and I was able to wave goodbye to him and his negativity. Reese and I split our time between my place and his, usually only staying at mine if I have to wake up early to get started on some baking. Reese has affirmed his desire to move me into his condo permanently after the wedding, but I’ve been dragging my feet on preparing for that. I like having my loft above the bakery. It was the first place I ever owned all by myself, containing many Joey and Juls memories I don’t want to let go of. But I understand his reasoning; it wouldn’t make sense to make payments on both places. So, even though it saddens me, I’ll be saying goodbye to my loft in ten days.
I park Sam, my delivery van, in my usual spot next to Reese’s vehicle in his parking garage. The contrast between my cupcake-covered van and his pristine Range Rover still makes me giggle, especially when Reese expresses his concern over my choice of transportation. But I let all that Sam-hate roll off my back; he’s reliable and very hip, in my opinion.
I step off the elevators onto the tenth floor and stop at Reese’s door, fumbling with my keys. Once I’m inside, I lock the door behind me and toss my purse and keys onto the table. I glance around at the immaculate space, noting my fiancé has been very busy cleaning today. Everything is in order and the entire place smells like something Italian. I’m starving, but not just for food, and the meal waiting for me on the stovetop will have to wait.
“Reese?”
I walk down the hallway, stopping at the bathroom door when I hear the shower running. Swinging the door open, I’m hit in the face with a cloud of citrus and have to grip the doorframe to steady myself. Good Lord, he’s delicious. His smell alone riles me up like nothing else. The curtain is pulled back and our eyes lock, his mouth curling up in the corner as he breaks our contact and slowly rakes over my body. His lip twitches into a smile.
“Liar. I was expecting a dress with no panties.”