A Sweet Mess Read online

  His nose led him to Comfort Zone, a bakery hidden between a barbershop and a pet store. The warmth and ease of the place ensconced him as soon as he stepped inside. It was lively without being loud and full of people without feeling crowded. Whether they were engrossed in a book or guffawing at someone’s joke, the customers looked completely at ease, like they were hanging out at their best friend’s house. Immersed in the atmosphere, he’d experienced a rare moment of peace, which was interrupted before he could properly savor it.

  Landon was enjoying a cup of rich, dark coffee and a whole chocolate Bundt cake, the bakery’s special of the day—soaking in the sun from the bright outdoor seating—when he’d choked on a gummy worm hidden within the thick, clingy peanut butter filling. His eyes and nose running from his coughing fit, he dumped the cake in the trash bin and walked away. He’d escaped asphyxiation, but he was angry as hell.

  There were plenty of inedible cakes in the world, but the bakery and the Bundt cake had brimmed with potential. The chocolate cake itself had been beautiful—light, moist, and perfectly bittersweet. The cream cheese and peanut butter filling had tasted improbably delicious.

  The baker had talent, but throwing in the gummy worms exhibited arrogance and callousness. And showcasing the Bundt cake as the daily special without alerting the customers to the unusual filling? That was wrong. A rebellion without a cause. It was an unfortunate pitfall for some talented chefs. Was it frustration? Boredom? Whatever prompted the addition of the gummy worms, the cake shouldn’t have been served to a customer. Experiments should stay in the kitchen until they were perfected. Comfort Zone had used its customers, including him, as test subjects.

  Landon had been on his way to review a three-starred Michelin restaurant in Mammoth, but his overnight stay in Weldon meant that well-laid plan wasn’t happening. He had to fly out the next afternoon for his monthlong assignment in East Asia, which meant he had to drive back to Santa Monica at the crack of dawn. He was counting on the auto shop/gas station/mini-mart to open at 6:00 A.M. as the sign promised.

  It was unplanned and a bit impulsive, but Weldon’s very own Comfort Zone was going to be critiqued in California Coast Monthly. As aggravating as the experience had been, excitement stirred at the prospect of writing a review he was emotionally invested in.

  “So what brings you to Weldon?” Aubrey said, licking off the foam mustache her blond ale left behind.

  The flash of pink jerked Landon out of his thoughts, and he zeroed in on the alluring woman in front of him. “Bad luck.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  When she smiled, her almond-shaped brown eyes tilted up in the corners, adding to her ethereal beauty. Her cropped black hair capped her delicate head, and her petite body dipped and flared in all the right places. He could imagine her as a mischievous woodland faerie, clothed in gossamer wings.

  “Nothing that exciting. My car blew a tire, but the auto shop is closed till tomorrow morning, so here I am.”

  “You’re right. Not exciting at all.” Aubrey munched on a pretzel, amusement curving her lips. “Next time, try throwing in a helicopter, some churning water, or an active volcano somewhere in your story.”

  “Maybe I’ll add a femme fatale.”

  The bridge of her nose crinkled as she laughed, and her cupid’s bow mouth curved in an impish smile. Regrettably, her tinkling laughter caught her friend’s attention, and Landon nearly cringed. The brewery had a large enough crowd to keep a single server more than busy, and Tara was bustling about like a woman possessed by a tornado. Every time she stopped by the bar, she threw a subtle glare his way, telegraphing a simple but effective message.

  One false move and I drown you in a beer barrel.

  She was one fierce cockblocker. Her loyalty to Aubrey was inexplicably endearing to him, but her concern was misplaced. Landon was all about consensual fun. He put on his best Boy Scout face to put her at ease, but the brewer’s eyes widened in alarm. He’d actually never been a Boy Scout. Perhaps he should’ve gone for a laid-back expression instead. Fuck it. Landon smiled and nodded politely to her, and then stood from his seat.

  “Why don’t we find ourselves a table?” Well meaning or not, he wanted Aubrey to himself.

  “I’d like that.” She smiled at her friend and tilted her head toward the dining area. “Tara, we’re gonna grab a table.”

  “How’s this?” He’d chosen a small table at the back corner. When Aubrey nodded, he pulled out her chair and took a seat across from her.

  Their proximity and relative privacy made the air between them hum with electricity. Their knees brushed every time either of them shifted in their seat, sending bolts of desire through him. A sharp intake of breath and a parting of her lips revealed Aubrey wasn’t immune to their magnetic attraction.

  Landon had dated his fair share of beautiful women. There was no reason to act like a gawky teenager, but his roaring heart and churning stomach said otherwise. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt nervous around a woman. Her hand was resting less than four inches away from his, but he broke out in a cold sweat working up the nerve to brush his knuckles against it.

  He started when Aubrey traced her fingers across the back of his hand with a shy smile. “So, Landon from out of town, what’s your dream?”

  His blood had gone south at her touch, leaving nothing for his brain, but he was even more dumbstruck by her question. The woman threw him off balance on all fronts.

  “Not big on making small talk, are you?” He managed to keep his voice steady despite his spinning head and hardening body.

  “If I’m going to have a chat with a complete stranger, I might as well have an interesting one.” A deep blush stained her cheeks, and her lashes fluttered to hide her eyes. “Besides, you’re leaving tomorrow. I was hoping we could pack a lot into tonight.”

  Landon sucked in a sharp breath. Her shy and earnest declaration moved him, and he fought the urge to pull her across the table to kiss her senseless. Instead, he lifted Aubrey’s hand and brushed a kiss on her pale inner wrist. A wolfish grin spread across his face when she gasped at his touch.

  “My dream was to open my own restaurant.” To his shock, the truth stumbled out of him. A truth he’d refused to face for the past decade. Maybe he was desperate to give her an interesting conversation. A memorable one. “Someplace spacious and comfortable where people can enjoy a delicious meal without pretense or a six-figure salary.”

  “That sounds amazing. What kind of food are we talking about?”

  “Whatever inspiration strikes me. If I had to label it, New American–slash–Korean fusion will have to do.”

  “I love Korean food. I would totally eat there.” Aubrey sat forward, her eyes round and sparkling. “So you’re Korean? I am, too.”

  “Yes, I’m Korean, and you would be more than welcome to eat at my restaurant.”

  “Are you a chef?”

  “No, but I trained to be one. Have you heard of the CIA?”

  “The Central Intelligence Agency? You learned to cook for undercover agents while dodging bullets and jumping out of airplanes?” She cocked her head to the side and gazed at him with solemn interest.

  “I … um.” Landon was fairly certain she was messing with him, but insulting her wouldn’t be the best way to seduce her. “It’s…”

  Aubrey’s pale skin turned from pink to crimson before she erupted into laughter, her frame trembling like a 6.8 earthquake. She held up a finger, gripping her side, pantomiming she needed a minute. He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled her with a steely glare, which wasn’t an easy feat considering her infectious mirth.

  “I’m s-sorry, but you had to see your face. You couldn’t decide whether a small-town girl like me knew about the Culinary Institute of America or whether I was pulling your leg.”

  Mischievous little fox. He needed to get her back for that.

  “Actually, that’s incorrect.” He drew closer to her, his lips close to her ear, and lowere
d his voice to a deep, gritty whisper. “I was debating whether or not I should tell you the truth, because if I did, I’d have to terminate you.”

  Aubrey stared at him in silence for a second, and then a delighted grin spread across her face. “This is fun.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Landon was surprised to find he meant it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun. He certainly had pleasant and interesting times, but fun times? No, this felt alien.

  His earlier hesitation forgotten, he ran his knuckles down the side of her face, relishing the feel of her warm, silky skin. Aubrey leaned lightly into his hand, and her eyes slid shut. She was so responsive to his touch. Landon’s mouth went dry, and all he could think was more. He wanted to make her laugh again. He ached to make her fall apart in his arms with her swollen lips calling out his name.

  “You’re beautiful,” Landon murmured, unable to look away from her.

  “So are you.” Aubrey’s lips curved into a barely there smile that squeezed his heart.

  He’d gone to the brewery for a pint to wash away the bitter taste of his sorry day, but he’d discovered something far more intoxicating—something potent enough to tip him off-balance. Aubrey made his blood sing and his rational thoughts melt away. The floor seemed to grow solid and strong, and his body settled heavily into his seat like he’d dropped anchor across from her—as though she had a gravitational pull all her own and he was helpless against it.

  He’d led a nomadic life for a decade. He didn’t know how to stay still for long. The smart thing to do would be to run the hell away from this woman, whose mere proximity made it unimaginable to even leave the table.

  But smart wasn’t part of his vocabulary at the moment. Greedy, feral, and desperate passion overwhelmed all else. He stood abruptly from his seat, and Aubrey’s mouth parted in surprise. Then he grasped her hand and raised her to her feet.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” His eyes bored into hers, his desire and urgency displayed for her to see.

  “Yes.”

  2

  Aubrey woke with a start.

  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Landon had been sexy, demanding, and irresistible, and they’d thoroughly worn each other out. But even now, his parted lips beckoned her to taste him, and her center ached with renewed desire.

  They’d walked to his room in silence with their hands entwined—awareness and anticipation sizzling between them. As soon as the door closed behind them, they had torn off their clothes and made love with raging-hot hunger, too far gone to savor and taste each other. Landon reached for her again just as the sweat on her skin began to cool. With the edge of their desire placated, he traced and kissed every dip and curve of her body with curiosity and fascination, and held himself in check while she explored him with greedy fingers. Gasps of surprise and moans of pleasure had filled his room until exhaustion led them off to sleep.

  Fortunately, Aubrey woke up before Landon. When it came to relationships, short, lighthearted flings were her modus operandi, but one-night stands were rare. She usually needed a few dates to trust and respect someone enough to share her body with him. But with Landon, she’d somehow known he would be a considerate lover and would treat her body with respect. More than that, she knew he would make her feel good.

  And her instincts had proven spot-on.

  All work and no fun had made Aubrey cranky and exhausted. She hadn’t taken a vacation since Comfort Zone opened its doors. Running a bakery was a full-time job and then some, and all the money she’d earned in the first couple years went straight back into the business. She chose to open her bakery in Weldon for its affordability but also for its awe-inspiring surroundings. Unfortunately, the majestic mountains were a mere backdrop to her life, beautiful but untouchable.

  The day before had been a wake-up call that she was hanging on by a thread. It was a tough day, no doubt, but she had been way too close to losing her shit. That wasn’t like her. She’d built Comfort Zone and gained her independence with her focus, determination, and cool-under-pressure disposition. She’d needed a release. Badly.

  Hopefully, last night had done the job. Landon was not only a considerate lover but a skilled and creative one. She would be sore and achy in some places later, but if he wanted to go for a fourth round, she’d jump him. Which was precisely why Aubrey had to get out of there.

  What if he was annoyed to find her in bed the next morning? What if he sneaked out on her? The best-case scenario would be a nice-meeting-you and an awkward handshake-or-hug dance. She could imagine herself closing in for a hug and being impaled by his outstretched hand. Death by mortification.

  Aubrey prayed for strength and tore her gaze from his mouth only to be ensnared by his lush eyelashes. What business does he have with lashes like those? She tried glaring at the beautiful man lying next to her, but she only succeeded in ogling him.

  A tiny yip escaped her when those ridiculous lashes fluttered as though preparing to unveil the deep, dark eyes beneath. She’d be lost if she looked into them again. Bracing herself on her elbows, Aubrey inched toward the edge of the bed. His arm slid across her bare back as she extracted herself from his embrace, and the innocuous caress set her skin alight. Even after last night, her fiery reaction to his touch flustered her.

  By the time she’d crawled down the bed with awkwardly placed limbs, a thin veil of sweat filmed her upper lip. She spotted her bra and crawled over to the coffee table to retrieve it. En route, her knees collided with her shoes. Aubrey pulled on her lacy white bra and grabbed her champagne-colored ballet slippers while scanning the room. She found her shirt and jeans by the armoire, and she slipped her top on with shaky hands. Where the hell are my panties? Getting more nervous by the second, she gave up on her favorite pink undies and pulled on her jeans without them. Ugh.

  Aubrey stuck her shoes in the back pockets of her jeans for extra stealth and tiptoed out of the room after a lingering look at Landon. She slipped on her shoes at the end of the hallway and crept out of Lola’s like a cat burglar, careful not to run into anyone. Her clammy skin prickled in the early-morning chill, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She wasn’t ashamed of spending the night with Landon, but she also didn’t need any town gossip.

  The Eastern Sierra Nevada towered beyond the rooftops of Weldon, and Comfort Zone waited for her in a sleepy corner of town. It wasn’t far from the inn, but she picked up her pace so she wouldn’t be late.

  She unlocked the rear door at four o’clock, right on schedule. She sighed as she tied a long, white apron around her waist, wondering what delicious mess would end up on it. She soaked in the warmth and security of her kitchen. This is it. She had everything she wanted—a quiet, solitary life doing what she loved most.

  Landon’s sleeping face sneaked into her thoughts, and Aubrey shook her head to scatter the image. She was probably still high from the multiple orgasms. Their night together had been amazing, but it was over. She had work to do.

  Aubrey dug her hands into a mound of pudgy dough and sighed. She was home. When she baked, nothing could break her concentration. She lost herself in a cocoon of cinnamon, cocoa, and butter. Morning dawned as the sweet aroma of pastries filled the bakery, and Aubrey poured herself a cup of coffee and soaked in the moment.

  Just as she unlocked the door to open shop, Tara marched inside. Damn it. It was too early for the Spanish Inquisition.

  “Spill it, Bree.” She hopped onto the nearest stool and pinned Aubrey with her don’t-bullshit-me stare. Tara was still in her clothes from the day before. She must’ve closed shop and then brewed all night. “If I were a gambling sort of gal, I’d bet my mom’s Korean fried chicken recipe that you went home with that smoldering sex-on-legs last night.”

  “Your mom would turn over in her grave if she knew you were throwing around her secret recipe like common poker chips. But wait. She’s alive and well. What kind of daughter are you?”

  “You are dodging the question,” Tara said, pointing her
index finger at her. Then her eyes widened, and her nostrils flared like they smelled blood. “You did take him home. You slept with him? You finally ended the longest drought in the history of Weldon…”

  “Oh, shut up.” Aubrey’s cheeks caught on fire. “It hasn’t been that long.”

  “Yeah, right. I was worried your girl parts would close up like neglected pierced ears if you didn’t get some soon.”

  “Can you be more explicit, please? Your subtlety confounds me,” Aubrey said with a pointed look at Tara. “I didn’t take him home and sleep with him. We went to his room at Lola’s, and I didn’t sleep much at all. Though I did watch him sleep for a while before I sneaked out.”

  “I beg your pardon. I was way off the mark.” Her best friend had the eye roll down to an art. “You went to a hotel with a gorgeous stranger and made love to him all night, then you stared creepily at him instead of sleeping.”

  “I won’t see him again.” She shrugged, her blush deepening. “I was just getting my fill.”

  “So you let him fill you all night?” Tara grabbed the counter so she wouldn’t fall off her stool. She was laughing so hard she had tears in the corner of her eyes.

  “You have the maturity of a twelve-year-old boy.” Aubrey bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from cracking up. She’d say her maturity level was on par with her best friend’s.

  “Then why did you run out on him without so much as a so long, sucker?” Tara inhaled shakily, her arms wrapped tightly around her ribs. “Why not get his number?”

  “He isn’t from around here, and I don’t have time for a relationship. We enjoyed each other for one night, and that’s that.”

  “That’s all fine and well.” Tara’s expression softened as she brushed a lock of hair from Aubrey’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like a faded rag doll.”