He held her tight to his body. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the sensation of his hand holding her and his sweet scent of spice. He released her waist and she followed suit, gliding into the spin as he held her hand in his and gently guided her back.
She liked the airy way she sank into him, causing a plethora of mixed emotions.
How can I hate someone so much yet want him so fiercely?
She liked the feeling of protection that accompanied his smile. Unfortunately, she needed protection from him at the moment…both professionally and personally.
The end of the song played. They stopped swaying but his grip did not loosen and she didn’t attempt to leave. Even if she wanted to move, she couldn’t have…her legs puttied.
The next song started to play. Apparently the DJ, or the wedding party, really liked Jarrod Niemann because the next song was “What Do You Want From Me.”
He closed the short distance between them and kissed her.
Sarah viewed the pair as if in a movie theater watching herself being kissed, slow motion, with every sense heightened. His lips took ownership of hers, freeing her body to crave him. He moved her hand to his shoulder and grasped her face with his free hand. The steady stream of kisses intensified with every movement.
She blanked. Not hearing or sensing anything else but Gavin, she held him close. Her hands smoothly glided over Gavin’s back…enjoying every one of his muscles through his shirt. Craving more, she found the bottom of his shirt and slipped her hands under, touching his warm skin.
He moaned, and their kiss deepened. His hands roamed down and lifted her off her feet. She put her arms around his neck and cradled his face with her hand. There was no mistaking the energy passing between them.
She started to regain her senses and heard the words of the song, asking what someone wanted, repeating over and over.
How fitting.
That was the question of the hour.
What does he want? Why is he here? And why on earth does he kiss this well?
“Excuse me?” She heard a male shout behind her.
She stopped, only pulling away her face far enough to talk. “Hello?”
Gavin’s puzzled gaze stared back.
He forgot where we are, too.
She kept her focus on him as he looked over her shoulder in the direction of the voice and his eyes widened.
Sarah slid from her position to stand on her own two feet again.
This is embarrassing. I’m in public. Get control.
“Sorry, man.” Gavin sent a palms-up hand to the disc jockey and an almost apologetic look.
“This is embarrassing,” she whispered into his shirt and took in a healthy breath of his scent.
“Nah, it’s nothing. Could’ve been worse.” He lifted her chin to kiss her again.
Sarah pulled away from his grasp before she turned completely red from want and mortification. “Set up. Yes, we were setting up.”
And I’m trying to get your cell phone, Gavin.
“Setting up.” Gavin nodded.
“Right.” She cleared her throat.
Get a hold of yourself.
In an attempt to collect herself, she pushed at her hair. She walked back over to survey the table of half-organized desserts.
“Where were we? Oh yes…you asked about cooking?”
“I did.”
He nodded again. Amusement filling the crinkles on the sides of his eyes.
Sarah sighed in grateful relief they were getting back to the task at hand.
“I don’t usually have time to cook meals.” He stood behind her as she resumed arranging the dessert tables. “I keep a bag of bars, energy snacks, energy drinks, and water with me. Always have to make sure to keep plenty of bottled water around.”
“What kind of a teacher’s schedule do you have?” Sarah looked back.
He stared for a moment and blinked. “Oh…yeah, I teach tactical classes. We’re in the field a lot.”
“I see.”
I think I just caught you in a lie.
He handed her a plate of cake pops.
With quick moves, she arranged them in the blue-painted, half-sphere displays she’d made for the reception’s display. “So, why the need for a sabbatical? I can tell by the way you talk about your work and people you’re happy.”
“Yeah, but work isn’t all there is to life. Maybe sabbatical is just a fancy way to say vacation.” He laughed and slid his hands into his jean pockets. “I needed a vacation.”
“Hmm. Yeah, well, we all need a break sometimes.” She looked over the completed display. “I’ll need one when Fiona comes back.” Her frisky side kicked in. Getting answers to all her burning questions involved flirting—a skill she’d easily perfected over the years. She flashed a coy smile. “In your professional opinion…are there any security issues in my life I should be worried about?”
“You need a better lock on the back door for starters. Probably should mount a bell, as well.”
“Really?” She fought to keep her voice light.
Is that because I came through it without you hearing me, and now I know you’re deceitful?
“That’s the main one I’ve noticed. You should also have pepper spray or something in the front, kitchen, and in your office. Just in case.”
So, I can pepper spray your face? She unclenched her jaw.
“Anything else?” She marveled at how he took her questions seriously. He’d clearly given the bakery security issues thought. “You don’t think I can handle myself?”
“I’m sure you could.” He crossed his arms and moved to stand beside her.
“I hope you never have to find out.”
Run while you can. You’re making a big mistake, buddy.
“Is that right?” A sly smile formed. “What if I attacked you from behind?”
A shiver crept up her spine, thinking of the possibilities of his hands around her. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
He laughed. “Fair enough.”
“I’ve done my fair share of traveling.” She jutted her chin. “I’ve taken some lessons on self-protection.”
“Good. More people should be prepared.”
“What would
you
do if
you
were attacked head on?”
He gave her the universal two finger “come here” gesture.
She struck high with her right hand and snuck in low with her left. He expertly diverted her right hand attempt and grabbed for her left hand and spun her around.
Damn. I really wanted to hit him.
Holding both of her wrists, crossed in front of her body, he pulled her close.
She could feel his hard chest pressed against her back, his breathes were deep and sent a sharp chill up her spine. His thighs rubbed the back of her legs and she, momentarily, had visions of him whipping her around and pushing her high against a wall with his strong thighs. She surveyed the room.
The pesky DJ is gone. Good.
Then he lowered his mouth to her right ear and spoke in a husky whisper, “I would detain them.”
Her body froze. “Detain.” All Sarah could do was repeat one of the now sexiest words a man had ever said.
Gavin kissed her ear, trailing his lips slowly down her neck. He released her and let his hands cling to her curves.
She turned to face him, melting as he wrapped his arms tight around her waist. She instinctively draped her arms around his neck and softly put her lips to his.
I could stay in this moment forever.
He slipped his hands under her shirt, taking control. The need for him pulsed quickly. She didn’t flinch when his fingers tickled her bare stomach. Her heart thumped and her head dizzied, breaking their kiss.
She ran her hand over his firm hips, pulling him closer, and felt a hard rectangle in his back pocket.
His cell phone. I need that.
She reached in, trying not to make her goal obvious and slid out his phone, cupping it with her hand. She teased him with her tongue, hoping to keep his attention on her and not his back pocket.
Now, where can I hide this?
She pulled back and looked into his bold green eyes, keeping her hand holding the phone behind him. His gaze beckoned her…called out to every fiber of her body. Her master plan was coming together—all she had to do was maintain control. With a sexy wink, she turned to walk back to the table and pocketed his phone, ever so smoothly, in her front apron pocket.
Success. I am one bad mother trucker.
Chapter Four: Fool Me Once
Sarah grabbed her laptop.
Now, let’s see what we have.
She sat on her bed to pull up the email Marley sent with the names of the contestants. She pulled out Gavin’s cell phone and woke it up.
Password, huh? What would Gavin use?
She typed in one, two, three, four.
Nope.
She typed in four zeros.
Nope. Dammit. Has he used any numbers?
Sarah thought about the day in the bakery when Gavin had a heated discussion with Mrs. Cline about how good and bad things always came in threes.
Three.
Sarah punched in four threes and held her breath.
I’m in! Whew. What crazy luck.
The background lit up with a picture of Sarah’s dessert arrangement from the wedding reception. As her mouth fell open, she quickly moved the phone close to her face.
What the hell?
Her mind betrayed her and she could see him in her arms, drunk with the passion they’d shared last night.
Why does he have to be so good looking?
Sarah found the list of his recent calls. She scrolled to the day she’d overheard his horrifying conversation and the approximate time.
Lexington.
The only call he’d made that afternoon.
Okay, Lexington, let’s see who you are.
She looked at the twenty-five names on the list.
Gotcha.
Lexington appeared under the bakery, Pies, Oh My!
How do I know that name?
Sarah opened a Google search to check the dirty, no-good, cheating, lying jerk involved with Gavin. She clicked on the first story at the top of the page.
Oh, this is starting to make sense.
The story told about the Trio Trifecta and how Pies, Oh My! placed second last year, even though they’d dominated other baking competitions and awards during the same period. The Seattle-based bakery operated by Margaret Ann, none other than the wife of gazillionaire Howard Lexington III. Margaret Ann had become accustomed to winning. She held numerous recognitions and awards, but had yet to add the Trio Trifecta to her record. Last year was the closest she’d been. The article briefly mentioned Sarah and Crazy for Cake as the first place winner.
So, you wanna bump me off, huh? We’ll just see about that. What are you planning, Gavin? Stopping me from going?
She huffed.
Fat chance. Steal my recipes and make them for yourself? Even fatter chance.
Sarah returned her attention to Gavin’s phone lying on her red comforter. She wasn’t normally a snoopy person, especially over the guys she dated—their business was theirs and hers was hers.
You’re not dating him. You don’t even like him. You were only using him last night to find out what he’s up to…that’s all.
She shut her laptop.
Whatever. I’m an adult. And, I have a business and reputation to protect. I’m winning the Trio Trifecta and no one is standing in my way.
Why couldn’t she just admit he stirred feelings in her? Why did she have to justify her actions? Couldn’t she bake her cake and eat it, too?
Joke’s on him.
Fool me once, Gavin Arnold, it is on you…you will not, however, fool me twice.
Sarah had no questions in the business world…but her feelings and emotions were a little cloudy. So what if she liked the man spying on her? Who cares if she wanted to have some fun while she thwarted his plans? She played games all the time when dating.
This is just another game…a sexy, stakes-are-higher-than-ever-before game.
She chuckled.
I’m like a spy.
Sarah always loved a good story with a commanding heroine who could con men into doing whatever she wanted—sometimes she’d infiltrated the bad guy’s circle of trust by dating him and gain access to all of his secrets.
I’m living my own honey pot operation.
Her body froze and
She opened her eyes wide.
Wait a minute. Is that what he’s doing to me? Is he the honey pot trying to seduce me for
my
secrets?
She blew out a sigh and lay back on her bed.
It’s a wicked game I’m playing. What are you doing?
She stared at the stark white ceiling, thinking of any way to get out of the mess before her and make sure Gavin didn’t get or do whatever he sought. He couldn’t win.
What I don’t need is to keep Gavin’s cell phone.
Sarah wished she was a master spy…then she could clone his cell phone and figure out an adept way to deal with his deception, Lexington, win the competition, and prize to save Crazy for Cake.
She did know how to return a cell phone to its rightful owner. Sarah picked herself up off her bed, cursing herself for being excited to see him. She slipped on her black boots and dark purple vest before she headed toward Jabb’s Bed and Breakfast.
****