Raspberry Crush (5 page)

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Georgette ducked out from the kitchen to set a plate of apple fritters on the table Billy was using. "Help yourself, hon."

"Thanks, those smell awesome," Billy said, breathing in the sweet apple aroma and trying not to give in to the daily temptation of working in the back, which was more of a median between the front of the store and the kitchen. A clean, cozy space, with white walls, a pink tile floor, and stainless-steel shelves neatly stockpiled with cake boxes, rolls of wax paper, and stacks of paper cups, it was where Billy decorated the cakes. It was also the place where Georgette deposited remainders for the staff to eat—baked goods that didn't look right, but still smelled and tasted delicious, and still had roughly a zillion calories.

Pausing at the kitchen door, Georgette asked, "By the way, what the hell's a soy nut?"

If Billy recalled, it was pretty self-explanatory. "It's just a roasted soybean, I think." (Well, it might sound self-explanatory; she never said it sounded
good.)

"Oh, for chris
sake,"
Georgette scoffed irritably, plowing her hand into her fluffy white rooster 'do.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Melissa says I gotta start offerin' 'soy-nut alternatives' for vegans, or some bull crap like that." Behind her clunky pink glasses, she squinted her eyes angrily. "And we all know, whatever the princess
wants—"

She stopped short of saying "she gets," as the alleged princess walked through the door. Georgette turned on her heel to retreat back to the kitchen, when Melissa stopped her. "Wait a sec, Georgette! I have something for you."

"What is it now?" she barked, and snatched the yellow piece of paper out of Melissa's hand.

"Two new recipe ideas from the suggestion box," Melissa replied.

"But—"

"Donna already approved them."

With that, Georgette scowled and slapped hard on the kitchen door. Once she was gone, Melissa simply shrugged off her tantrum and filled a paper cup with coffee from the old-fashioned pot in the corner. She leaned against the table and blew on her cup. "Oh, is that for the jubilee?" she asked, eyeing the sheet cake Billy was working on.

"Yeah, what do you think?" Billy asked, stepping back.

"It looks fantastic so far."

Georgette slammed pans around in the kitchen while Melissa rolled her eyes, and Billy couldn't help but giggle.

"By the way, do Katie and Des need my help out front?" Billy asked, just realizing she'd been working in the back for over an hour.

"No, don't worry; the lunch crowd already cleared out. Of course, Des's sleep-inducing diatribe on 'constructional imperialism' doesn't exactly entice one to linger." Billy laughed, recognizing that as Des's platform on the Big Dig, only about a decade too late. "By the way, how's Mark?"

"He's fine," Billy replied with a smile.

"So, are you guys still hot and heavy or what?" Melissa asked.

"I guess," Billy said, though "hot and heavy" wasn't quite it.
Mark
was hot, Billy's
fantasies
were hot, but when the two worlds met... her expectations fizzled.

Somehow the idea of kissing Mark was always more exciting than the reality. Billy honestly didn't know why—she was physically attracted to him, and she
wanted
to love kissing him. She wanted to melt inside, to sweat all over, to throw him down on the hood of his car and tear his shirt open with her teeth. Instead, while she enjoyed being near him, kissing him was merely pleasant. There was just something about Mark's lukewarm, very moist lips pressed on hers that didn't stir immediate and electrifying passion.

Still, she wasn't ready to conclude that the chemistry was simply wrong. What seemed more realistic was that the passion between them would intensify as their relationship developed. Especially when they became more emotionally involved; so far they weren't even close to making love.

"Is he still working for that supply distribution company?" Melissa asked. "He's never here anymore."

"Oh, I know. With his promotion, he's been assigned to a different set of stores." If that sounded vague, she supposed it was, but Mark never went into a lot of detail about his job. "And he has longer hours now," Billy added, "which is why I don't get to see him as much as I'd like."

"Really?" Melissa said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," she said, wondering why Melissa looked skeptical. Was she doubting that Mark had long hours? Or that it was the reason Billy didn't see him enough?

Shaking her head, Melissa remarked, "I still can't get a feel for what Mark's type is."

"What do you mean?" Billy asked, leaning against the table and accidentally smudging the side edge of the sheet cake. "Oh, shoot," she said, turning back and bending to fix it with her frosting spatula.

"Hey, Billy," Katie called, ducking her head in, "there's someone here to see you."

"Huh?"

"About the jubilee."

"Oh! I totally forgot." Damn, she really wanted to finish this cake first. Gingerly Billy worked her hands under the cardboard tray, shimmied the cake off the table to balance in her hands, and carried it to the freezer. Melissa opened the door for her.

Then Billy wiped her hands on her apron, brushed back some loose strands of hair that had fallen away from her ponytail, and headed to the front.

Suddenly she stopped short. And in less than a second, the dull but comforting predictability of life abruptly turned on its axis.

"Billy?"

"Oh, my God," she said, coming closer, barely having enough time to process the handsome, achingly familiar man standing on the other side of the counter. No... it
couldn't
be!

Seth Lannigan? After all this time?

"I can't believe this," he said, smiling warmly, with a touch of wonder crossing his face.

"Um, what are you doing here?" Billy asked, feeling choked by shock, as her heart fluttered frantically in her chest.

"I'm here representing Churchill and the Jubilee Planning Committee. What, you work here?" Grinning self-deprecatingly, he plowed his hand into his hair and said, "Okay, obviously you do."

"Yeah," Billy said with a laugh that was mostly nerves. "My friend got me the job a couple months ago," she added, motioning toward Melissa on the other side of the counter. That was when she noticed Melissa, Katie, and Des all watching like they'd paid for seats. Abruptly, they averted their eyes and pretended to straighten things behind the counter.

Seth must've noticed, because his eyes dropped to the floor as his mouth curved into another grin. Then he looked back up at Billy. And she really took him in—the darkly golden hair, the navy sweater that covered his broad shoulders and strong chest, the fresh-looking softness of his skin—
Wait.
Seth was clean shaven now. Back in the day he'd exuded a scruffy kind of sexiness; his favorite outfit had been jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Now he looked more clean-cut. Older, more filled out. The same, only better.

Swallowing hard, Billy tried to steady her nerves, which were still reeling. For the most part shock had worn off, and the reality of seeing Seth again had begun to sink in.

Automatically, her body and mind responded to his presence—especially the vivid deja vu rushing through her mind, reminding her of Seth's magnetism. His sexy grin, his hypnotic gaze, the rich sound of his laugh—it all just rattled her senses.

Wiping her palms on her apron, she stopped fiddling and snapped into focus. "I was working at Net Circle up till about six months ago. I've been working here until I find something else. What about you? Are you just home visiting?"

Seth explained about his mother's move to Dublin, and selling her house. Though it wasn't logical, the notion of Seth selling his family's beach house stung Billy a little. She supposed, in the corners of her mind, she was still touched by memories of holding Seth on the beach... of Seth kissing her softly, deeply, under Fourth of July tiki torches and moonlight.

"...so when Sally asked me to fill in for her today and meet with the caterer, I figured it was the least I could do."

Smiling, Billy continued to nod, feeling vaguely like a PEZ head.

Seth asked, "Should we sit, or...?"

"Oh, right, good idea," Billy said, moving past him, feeling some heat emanating off Seth's body as she passed. This reunion probably called for a hug, but the counter had been between them before, and now it felt like the moment was lost. She stopped short at a free table and turned quickly, accidentally brushing her shoulder against Seth's elbow, which sent a shiver rippling up her arm. She swallowed away the tightness in the back of her throat. "Okay, let's sit right here—except I forgot my—Oh!" She almost bumped into Seth as she whipped around. Now his eyes looked deeply into hers, and a rush of heat flooded Billy's chest. "I forgot the order book," she explained, smiling almost shyly. "I'll be right back."

When she walked behind the counter, she caught Melissa, Katie, and Des all huddled by the register, staring again. Rolling her eyes, she almost laughed. "Could you guys be more obvious?" she whispered as she passed by them and pushed on the door to the back.

Immediately Melissa and Katie followed. "Omigod, when he came in, I didn't realize he was
Seth,"
Katie said approvingly.

"So
that's
Seth? The 'one that got away'?" Melissa asked, then whistled. "I swear, I don't know how you snag these guys."

"What do you mean?" Billy said, a little surprised by that comment.

"No, no, I just mean... he's a hottie."

Somehow that wasn't clarifying much, but right now Billy was too flustered to pursue it. Seth was out there, and there was catering business to be dealt with.

Oh, yeah, and she also had to remember how to breathe.

"What do you think—should I lose the apron?" she asked. On the one hand, Billy was tempted to keep it on to cover her recent weight gain, but on the other, her red sweater and blue jeans said "cazh," while the apron said "serving wench."

"I'd lose it," Katie said.

Melissa held out her hand for Billy to relinquish the apron.

Just then Des ducked his head in. "Hey, what's going on in here?" he asked. His shaggy locks were dipped over one eye, and his mouth was curved into a small frown.

"Des, you have to go back to the front," Melissa said. "You can't leave the register unattended." She refrained from adding,
Duh,
but it was loudly implied.

With a heavy sigh, he retreated.

"Well, go on," Melissa said to Billy. "You really don't want to leave Des out there with Seth. He'll start pontificating on the meaning of life, pretending, of course, that he has one."

A strangled laugh escaped Billy's throat—part nerves and part giddiness at the bright, unexpected turn her day had taken.

Sucking in a breath, she clutched the order book to her chest and headed to the front, her mind going blank of everything but the nervous excitement buzzing through her. She wasn't thinking clearly—or maybe at all—in fact, it was times like these she envied Des Aggerdeen's flair for conversation.

Chapter 4

God, to see Billy again!
Seth thought, his surprise barely settling as he rapped his fingers anxiously on the tabletop. She looked the same as she had four years ago, except her hair was a dark red color now, and pulled back from her face, which was prettier than he'd remembered—prettier than that photograph depicted.

Rap, rap, rap.

He felt keyed up; seeing her again was the last thing he'd been expecting, and now all his senses were on alert; his pulse was pounding. In the months following his move to Seattle, Seth had been so busy with work that he'd put all speculation about her out of his mind. But now, his first day back, she appeared before him. Billy was right there—right
here.

Damn, he still couldn't believe it.

"Okay," she said, returning to the table, balancing two cups of coffee and a thick binder. Immediately he stood to help her, but she shook her head. "I've got it," she said, leaning over to set everything down on the table, then pulling out the chair across from him. Her apron was gone, and abruptly he noticed her body. Back when they'd dated, she had been shapely—a hot little rocket—and Seth could see that nothing had changed except she was more voluptuous. Her curves seemed fuller, giving her a blatant kind of sex appeal. He noticed the arousing way her jeans hugged her body, and the mouthwatering arc of her breasts against her sweater.

A jolt of lust shot to his groin as an image reached his mind. He was thinking about her body without clothes. Her luscious ass, her soft, succulent breasts—

"You still take your coffee black, right?" she asked, breaking his lusty trance.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Flipping open the order book, she ran through the specifics for the jubilee. "Everything's on schedule. All the pastries will be made fresh that day. Our baker, Georgette, will be on hand to replenish items, as needed. And I'm almost finished decorating the sheet cakes for the night's finale."

"You changed your hair."

She seemed caught off guard by the nonsequitur, and ran her hand over her ponytail.

"It looks good," Seth added. He stopped himself from saying more—like how her dark red hair next to her pale blue eyes was like a sultry burst of color. Christ, how did she look so innocently pretty—with the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose—but at the same time, so erotically hot?

She blushed, and Seth wondered how red she'd turn if she knew the graphic ideas running through his mind right now.

He passed her the last-minute notes from Sally and the planning committee, and couldn't help zeroing in on the fringe of Billy's long, dark lashes as she scanned the list. When she glanced up, she caught him staring again. Quickly Seth softened his gaze, trying to tamp down his intense resurgence of sexual attraction before Billy read it all over his face.

After jubilee business was out of the way, Billy handed Seth the final invoice. He took it and slipped it into his back pocket, but made no move to go. "So how's your family?" he asked, resting his arms on the table. "Your parents? Corryn and Kane?" After she told him about her parents' recent cruise and her sister's success in real estate, she mentioned Corryn's divorce. "Oh, I'm sorry," Seth said.