Cupcakes & Chardonnay (10 page)

As if reading her mind, Daryle rose up and looked into her eyes. Suzanne knew she didn't have to say a word. Everything she was feeling was written across her face.
Kiss me. Touch me. Fill me.
Daryle pushed his boxer shorts down over his hips, then wriggled out of them. Suzanne ran her hand down the hard length of him. Daryle sucked his breath in through his teeth, as she pulled him toward her.

He leaned over and covered her mouth with his as he pushed inside her, filling her up, fitting her perfectly. Suzanne gasped as he moved back and forth above her. She wrapped her thighs around his hips, pulling him in, eliminating every millimeter of space between them.

"Suzanne, I want to do this for hours," he whispered. "For slow, delicious hours. But I've waited so long to do this again, I don't think I can wait any longer." He began to thrust harder and faster. Suzanne matched his rhythm, feeling her body rising higher and higher until her pleasure cracked open, wave after wave of desire cresting over her body. She cried out his name and Daryle followed her, his last remaining shreds of self-control giving way to his own unbridled passion. He buried his face in Suzanne's shoulder as his body collapsed onto hers. "What you do to me," he murmured, "what you've always done to me ..."

Chapter 6

It was turning out to be, as Brent had promised, one glorious Sunday. Not a pillow of fog in sight. Suzanne whistled as she drove her car across the Golden Gate Bridge. She knew she had the most ridiculous grin on her face, and who wouldn't? Yes, that little nag was still tapping on the inside of her skull, warning that what she and Daryle had done that morning was not smart. Not smart, at all. But the sun was shining. She was on her way to a picnic with her best friend. She wanted to be happy today. Just happy.

And while her marriage to Daryle had more strings attached to it than a Punch and Judy show, sex with Daryle did not. There were no strings at all, no wondering where the relationship would go from here, or worries about whether they had gotten intimate too soon or not soon enough, or whether she'd ever hear from the guy again. Daryle couldn't leave her just yet—and yet, Suzanne knew exactly when the relationship was going to end. It was all so simple!

The Marin Headlands rose up in front of her. Before she had moved to California, she'd never seen a park with such varied terrain—from beaches where hardy surfers braved the icy waves to stands of majestic Douglas firs on the hilltop peaks. The first time she visited the Headlands and Mt. Tamalpais had been on the back of Brent's BMW motorcycle. Even though he'd been her boss, the two of them had been fast friends. They shared a sense of humor and a passion for their work.

After her breakup with Daryle, she would come up here to hike and get away from the places in the city that held too many fresh memories. Lately, she hadn't had much time to hike or stroll along the beaches; she spent most of her time at The Cupcakery.

She saw Brent and Seth as soon as she got out of her car, the two of them sitting on a classic red and white checkered picnic blanket, taking plates and containers out of a huge wicker basket. Behind them lay the bay and a panoramic postcard-perfect view of San Francisco, its streets and buildings splayed out on the peninsula.

She sat down on the blanket, gave Seth a friendly hug and leaned over to kiss Brent on the cheek. After the peck, he held her away from him and eyed her suspiciously. "Oh Suzie-Q, what are we going to do with you?"

"What?" Suzanne tried to feign innocence by looking down at her outfit. She was wearing a crisp white button-down shirt, capri jeans and a linen sweater tossed over her shoulders.

Brent shook his head ruefully. "I can tell by the glow in your cheeks just how last night ended. Or maybe it was this morning, hmm? And don't try and tell me it's just that orgasm blusher." He shook his head again and twisted the cap off a bottle of sparkling water.

Suzanne sighed. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"No, dear, you can't." He poured water into plastic cups and handed one to Seth. "But seriously, what
are
you doing? I thought this was one of those marriages of convenience."

"It is
—" she started to explain what had happened. But what had happened? How had it happened? She wasn't sure herself. She had gone to bed by herself, but woke up with Daryle under the covers next to her. And it had seemed so much like old times ...

"He's a husband with benefits?" Seth asked.

Suzanne laughed and accepted a cup of water from Brent.

"This isn't going to turn out well, mark my words," said Brent. "I worry about you, Suzie-Q. I know you used to love the guy and the two of you always jonesed for each other's bones like there was no tomorrow. But I don't see how this is going to end well. People don't change that
much. They just don't."

You got that right, she thought. Daryle was still as good in bed as he'd ever been.

Brent began pulling out plates and napkins from his basket. He unwrapped a veggie sandwich and scooped a big serving of pasta salad onto a plate, which he handed to Suzanne. "I'm just worried for you," he said. "You were a wreck the last time. You could hardly work. You deserve better."

"And when you're done with him, give him to me," Seth joked. Brent playfully mock-punched Seth in the arm. "Hey!" Seth said. "He's hot, just saying."

Suzanne sat back and admired the breathtaking view of the bay and the late morning sun washing over the orange trusses of the Golden Gate Bridge while she ate. Then she remembered the Napa shop.

"You'll never guess," she said, handing her plate to Brent for a refill on pasta salad. "I'm opening a shop in Napa. It's the cutest building. It looks like a train station that someone shrunk."

Brent coolly lifted one eyebrow as he handed her plate back. "Napa? How did that come about?"

"
It was my wedding present. Daryle leased the building."

"Well, that explains your—uh—wedding present to him."

"Brent, cut her some slack already." Seth turned to Suzanne. "You're married to the guy. Might as well get some sex out of it."

"And it's not like I've had tons of sex since I broke up with Daryle," Suzanne pointed out. "Haven't had any at all, actually."

"Hey, I don't have a problem with sex," Brent said. "But I know you, Suzanne. You're not the type to sleep with a man without falling for him. Explains why you haven't had sex lately."

She was a little annoyed with Brent, even though she knew he was right. Sleeping with Daryle had been a mistake, an enjoyable mistake, but a tactical error nonetheless. Still, couldn't he have let her hang onto that warm, loved-up feeling just a few more hours? You couldn't put anything past Brent. It was like he had x-ray vision straight into everyone's soul. Most of the time, it made him an amazing friend. He knew what you needed before you did. But today, Suzanne didn't want what she knew she needed. She had wanted a break from her solitary, loveless life and for an hour, Daryle had given her that. Brent had yanked her abruptly back into reality, a reality in which she was married to a man she didn't love and who didn't love her. A man who, at some point in the near future, would hand over a large sum of money, divorce her and then walk away.

Yes, she had definitely needed a short respite from reality.

"Just be careful," Brent said. "For me?"

Three hours later, Suzanne walked into The Cupcakery. The shop was busy for a Sunday afternoon. Lots of people were out enjoying the sunshine and picking up cupcakes before strolling down to the bay.

"Hey," Karen said. "What are you doing in today?"

"Oh, I had an idea I want to play around with."

"An idea? Care to share?"

Suzanne shook her head. "I'm not sure it's going to work out. If it doesn't, just pretend this conversation never happened."

"I thought you'd be exhausted after last night. How did the reception go?"

Suzanne
was
exhausted, but not from the reception. She held in her smile. "The reception went perfectly. Big crowd and the cupcakes flew off the table."

"That's what we want to hear, isn't it?"

Suzanne carried her shopping bag back into the kitchen and set up in the corner, far enough away to stay out of the girls' paths. She'd been driving back over the bridge, thinking about the new Napa shop and everything that had to be done to get it ready for opening, when a possibly great idea occurred to her. She detoured into her favorite wine shop and picked up a couple of bottles of Iris Vineyards chardonnay.

Now she gathered her ingredients around her—flour, eggs, vanilla, sugar, butter. She knew by heart how to whip up a batch of scrumptious cupcakes. This was the part of her life that made sense, that had always made sense. Suzanne was happiest when she was up to her elbows in flour and icing. Baking, she had always been able to do that, even when she was a little girl, "helping" her mother in the kitchen. The kitchen here was always hot and noisy, but at the same time it was peaceful, too. Here, Suzanne knew who she was and what she was supposed to do.

She measured and mixed, and added the secret ingredient—the chardonnay. She made three batches of a dozen each, altering the amount of chardonnay each time until she found the perfect proportion. It was therapeutic to just leisurely bake for a few hours. She didn't have as much time for that anymore, to just experiment in the kitchen and try out new ideas to see which ones worked. She watched the girls slide tray after tray of cupcakes in and out of the big ovens. They worked smoothly together, a well-oiled team. Suzanne was grateful for their hard work because, let's face it, The Cupcakery would not be the success it was without them. And Karen, she had been with Suzanne from the very beginning.

I am blessed, she thought, as she watched the shop's activity from her corner of the kitchen. Customers happily selected their favorite flavors—or took a suggestion from the counter girls to try something new. Everyone left with a smile on their face. Even when the shop was crazy-busy and everyone was scrambling to keep up, it was hard to pull from the oven a tray of freshly baked cupcakes and not smile. We sell happiness, Karen had said once. And it was true.

When her final batch of cupcakes was cool, she slathered them with a rich, dark chocolate buttercream icing—one of the shop's specialties—arranged them on a large platter, and took them out to the front.

"Well, the mad scientist emerges," Karen teased her. "What do you have there?"

"Chardonnay cupcakes."

There was a reverent silence. Then Kyleigh squealed, "Wine and cupcakes? That's brilliant!"

"I need some guinea pigs for a taste test," Suzanne warned. "Do I have any brave takers?"

"Are you kidding
?" Karen replied. "I want to be first in line."

Suzanne passed out the cupcakes to her entire staff and even to a few lucky customers who came in at just the right moment.

"These are divine," a well-dressed fortyish woman said. "When will they be for sale?"

"They'll debut at our new Napa location, and then we
'll add them to the menu here."

Chapter 7

"I like it, Suzie-Q," Brent said as Suzanne pulled her car up to the curb in front of the soon to be Napa Cupcakery. Suzanne had roped Brent and Seth into spending a lovely Saturday morning and afternoon helping her paint the new shop. "The building has a lot of character. But it looks like someone is already here."

T
he front door to the shop was already wide open and Suzanne could see men inside, some on ladders.

"Hmm ..." Suzanne said as she got out of the car and walked briskly into the building.

Inside, half a dozen strapping men were busy painting the walls and ceiling. Somehow, the walls had been already sanded, prepped and primed. Suzanne looked at the men in confusion and their faces reflected her confusion right back.

"What are you doing?"

One man, dressed in paint-spattered overalls, looked toward the kitchen.

"This is my store!" Brent and Seth came in behind her. Brent spoke to the man in overalls in Spanish. The man pointed back to the kitchen again. Suzanne headed off to see who was back there and nearly ran smack into Daryle. He reached out and gripped her shoulders.

"Whoa! You look ready to kill someone," he said.

"What ... what are you doing here? I came up here with Brent and Seth to start painting and ..." Suzanne looked back toward the front entrance.

"Well, I beat you to it apparently," Daryle replied. "I stopped in the other day to make sure the power had been turned on and I noticed all the brand new cans of paint and painting supplies. So I brought some guys over from the winery to do the painting."

Suzanne was speechless. It was a nice gesture, and the winery's employees would probably do a better job than she would. Still, it would have been nice if Daryle had given her a call or texted her. It would have saved her, Brent and Seth a trip up.

"Hope you don't mind," Daryle said, looking at her uncertainly. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, a friendly hello sort of kiss. The clean lavender scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. He wanted to give her more than just a friendly kiss, but he was a little puzzled by her response. He'd thought she would be happy not to have to deal with the painting—who likes to paint walls?—but now he wasn't sure. He tilted her face upward, trying to read what was going on in that pretty mind of hers. Whatever it was, she wasn't revealing it. He kissed her gently, warily, on the lips. Hadn't it been just a week ago that she had let him make love to her? He'd been replaying that scene all week, so many times in fact that it had begun to interfere with his work productivity. Even now, he could feel the faint beginnings of a stirring in his groin.