Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7) (66 page)

BOOK: Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7)
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“Well, hum...Mac, I suggest you talk with Tucker. See what his intentions are toward Sam. You know what mates are, right?” Mac nodded, relief evident on his face. “Well, Tucker has decided that things are too complicated for him to take Sam as his mate. No, that’s not fair; things are too dangerous for him to take Sam as a mate. He may be right. He has some horrible people in his life that could hurt her and him as well, so he is planning on leaving her here when he...well, when he...if we can’t work things out, Tucker is going to leave us.”

How did he tell a kid that a grown man like Tucker James felt he would rather meet the sun than to go back to the hell he had found himself in? How did he explain that as a mated vampire, he could do no less than protect his mate? No matter what it cost him? Not that Aaron blamed Tucker. The fact that he had survived all these centuries as he had said a lot for the man. But now that he had tasted freedom, no matter how small, he wouldn’t—no, he couldn’t go back to that again.

“Does he like her, Dad? Sam, I mean. Does Tucker like her? He seemed…he acts so sad all the time. Maybe he doesn’t love her like you do Mom.” There was such hope in his voice that Aaron had to fight a smile.

“Yes, I believe he loves her very much.”

“Oh,” Mac said as he shuffled his feet. “Okay then. I guess that’s okay with me. I’ll talk to him later. Okay, Dad?”

“Sure, son. That would be great. I’m sure that Tucker will appreciate it too.” Oh, his son’s first crush and he had no hope of it ever amounting to anything. Poor kid.

Mac left shortly after that. Aaron sat there for a long time, thinking about the other vamp and the things Tucker had shared with him. Aaron was not sure he could have survived under those circumstances. He had led a reasonably easy life in comparison to Tucker’s. Aaron was older by nearly twice Tucker’s age. He had lived less but had seen more than Aaron felt he ever would. Sara startled him from staring out into space a few minutes later when she came into the office.

They had an agreement about the office. Neither was to invade the other’s thoughts while inside this room when the door was closed. It gave them both a much needed break from the everyday issues and also gave them a break from each other. Sometimes one or both would just come into the big, cavernous room to sit and think about their mate, the words that had been said in anger or in love, the way the children had hurt them in a small way, or the way that they had made them laugh or smile. Secrets were fine between couples and needed, Aaron thought, so long as they were not the kind to fester and boil over into hate and meanness.

Sara didn’t pry nor look to see what Aaron’s thoughts were about. He knew because he could have felt her if she had. She simply walked over to him and cuddled up on his lap. She held him close to her, letting him get comfort, as much as he needed for as long as it took. Neither said a word, but simply held on.

Pete came in with a short knock and she and Sara began working at tracking down information. When she had left earlier, Pete had said she needed to get another set of eyes and for some reason, he had thought she meant another person. He should have known better. Pete was the greatest computer whiz he knew. When she walked in with two more lap top computers, he burst out laughing.

“Ah, Piccadilly, why is it that you continue to surprise me at every turn?” he asked her, still laughing.

Her fierce glare made him laugh again. “Keep calling me that, fang-boy, and somebody will have to be doing a search for your body parts very soon.”

Aaron needed to rest for the day soon, and knew now that he had someone working with him on Tucker’s problem, he would rest easier. And the laughter of the morning, along with the hugs, was going to go a long way to helping him too. And having the best would certainly make them quicker as well.

~CHAPTER EIGHT~

 

Sam woke up about ten o’clock that morning. She had missed enough work and needed to go in today. The other women who worked for her could help when needed, but Sam didn’t have recipes. And she did all the decorating herself. She was not only faster, but much better at it from all the years of practice. Plus, she was reasonably sure that neither woman who worked for her could cook. And if they could, they’d eat everything they did.

Sam rolled to her side. Instead of being alone in the big bed, she was lying next to Tucker. She took a few minutes to look at him. He was handsome with his bold features and hard muscles. Reaching out, she ran her hand up his arm and over his bicep. The muscles there jumped and moved beneath her touch. Then as her fingers continued their journey, she slowly traced the contours of his mouth, first his lower lip, then over the full upper one, pausing slightly when she felt his breath puff slightly from them. Lying back on the bed, she realized that if she didn’t leave soon, she wouldn’t. He was too much of a distraction as it was. Dressing quickly, she was in the kitchen in a few minutes and in a cab out front in less than thirty. The only person she saw was Penny, the cook.

Her shop was nearly empty of foodstuffs, so Sam began working right away. She always made the things that took the longest to make first, mixing the batter for bread and setting it to rest after ten minutes of hard kneading. Next came the dreaded pie crusts. She hated filled pies of any kind, much preferring baking the crust then filling it. Or her favorites were pudding based or custards, they always looked so pretty when finished. While the crusts were cooling, she began baking the cookies, hundreds of dozens of cookies, chocolate coconut, hazelnut fudge, and orange thumbprints. The iced ones were her favorite, especially when she had the time to draw on them. At any given holiday, she would spend hours just having fun putting all sorts of scenes on the cookies, Christmas being her favorite.

She was just taking the last of the blueberry buckle out of the oven when Sally came back to give her a message. The two women had the shop open when she had arrived and had been taking orders.

“A Mrs. MacManus said she’d like to come by and talk to you tonight ifin you ain’t busy. Said she was bringing the kids and a shade of something. We was kinda busy, so I didn’t get that too good. Also, wanted to know ifin you got any plain old chocolate chip cookies? Told her we don’t make those too much, but I’d ask ya. Got any? Chocolate chip I mean?”

“Yes, I just took ten dozen out for that wedding order. I think there should be about two or so dozen left over. What time did she say she was coming by?”

Sam was hot and didn’t want to have to deal with Sara again. She needed to get a lot done before the weekend weddings. And her head hurt. The cut wasn’t bleeding, but no amount of pain reliever was cutting through the pounding.

“Well…like I said, we was kinda busy, so she’s out there now. Her and some other woman what was here the other day? And a bunch of kiddies.” Sally’s language was terrible and it got worse by the end of the day. Sam wondered some days how the customers could understand her enough to know what they were getting. Sally laid the message down and started to walk away. Sam glanced up at the clock. It was just after six o’clock, closing time.

“Shit, Sally! A phone message is much more effective if I can get it when it comes in.” She stood up to take off her apron and make a quick escape out the door when Lizzy came running into the kitchen.

Sam didn’t allow people, especially kids, in her domain. Lizzy stopped about two feet from Sam. Lizzy looked nervous and unsure of herself and of Sam.
Good
, Sam thought. She had hurt Sam and needed to understand that things had consequences.

“Hey kid.” Sam was just as unsure about her. She didn’t know any other kids but this one and her brother. Sally’s children were grown and had moved away, and Betty was living with another woman and they didn’t have any plans of becoming parents.

“I came to give you this, and to telled—tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t know I was hurting you. I didn’t think through my actions.”

Lizzy shoved a drawing of a stick person surrounded by cakes of all sizes, some bigger than the person, at her. Sam was touched. She had no doubt that Lizzy had been coached by someone, but Sam was happy all the same.

Sam walked over to her zero doublewide fridge and stuck the picture to the door over several orders that were in mid-fill. Lizzy ran over and hugged her legs, then jumped back at the pop that went through her and Sam. It wasn’t always audible, but this time it was.

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t like to be touched. Didn’t hurt you, did it?” Sam reached out and gently rubbed Lizzy’s head. Sometimes the energy Sam let off was painful, others just a small static charge.

“No. I didn’t know people could pop someone like that. Does that happen all the time?” Lizzy made the last question sound like it had many more syllables than it actually had.

“A lot, yeah. It’s because I’m an empath. Do you know what that is?” Lizzy started to nod then changed it to a shake. “Well, I can feel everyone’s feelings and emotions, all the time if I don’t close myself off to them. The pop is an overload to my system. When you touched me, I get all of you at once and it ‘pops’ me.”

“Does it hurt you?” Lizzy asked her.

Sam was not sure if she should share with a little kid, but figured if she wanted to stay one step ahead of her, Sam would be better served if the kid knew what she was getting into. But when Sam answered her, she looked directly at the two women standing in her kitchen.

“Yes. Well, sometimes, if I’m not prepared for it. I could see you coming full tilt, so I braced myself for it. Usually it’s much bigger, but you haven’t been around long enough to have that many different emotions pinging through you all the time yet. If you were older, it would have been very strong. Hello, Mrs. MacManus, Mac, how are you guys tonight?”

Sam looked to the door at the back of the shop, wondering if she could make it out the door before Betty and Sally left for the night. Tomorrow she was going to have a long talk with them both about phone messages and the importance of telling them to her seconds before someone showed up.

“Don’t even try.” Sara looked from Sam to the door, as if to say, “I know what you are planning and I will stop you. I came here to talk to you.”

“Well, I have some baking to do, so if you wanna talk, you’ll have to do it in here. I’ve been in and out of injuries of late, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I’m a tad behind.” Sam went back to her work, determined to ignore them. It was like trying to ignore a thunderstorm in one’s own house.

“You’ve been hurt more than you have been getting at our house? Gosh, you must be really clumsy, ‘cause you been hurt a lot!” Mac made it sound like Sam had done nothing but bleed all over the place since she had met him. Which, after careful thought, she probably had.

First she had been shot, which he hadn’t witnessed but had seen the aftermath of, then she had been put into a deep sleep to heal first from his mom and then Tucker. Then last night, she was hurt again by being thrown against the wall. Yeah, she thought, she had been really hurt a lot.

When everyone converged in the kitchen, they stared in open-mouthed amazement at everything. There were sugary confections everywhere, different colored icings with flowers and animals standing on them, cupcakes by the yards, and hundreds upon hundreds of cookies cooling on racks. Standing in the corner on a rolling cart was a huge wedding cake with seven tiers and a waterfall made from real silk that Sam told them was a piece of the material used in the bridesmaids’ dresses.

“They’re supposed to come to get it in the morning. I have to put their names on it here, but first I have to put the finishing touches on it.” She pointed to the area just below the bride and groom. “It needs to have a few more of the non-perils put inside the roses to make them shiny. There is also the bridal cake to finish. It’s for the two of them to shove in each other’s faces.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Shade asked as she looked at the table filled with cakes of all sizes. She was delighted by the little six-inch cakes that had been ordered for a little girl and her ten friends to enjoy, each with a different theme of a Disney princess. Sam just thought they were goofy.

“My mom taught me to bake, and to enjoy it.  She and I lived in the upstairs of this place until...until later. She was the pastry chef, decorating the cakes and stuff. She would let me play with her tubes of colors. Once I got pretty good at them, she’d let me make the roses first, then I moved up to other flowers and stems.”

Sam put the kids, Mac, Lizzy, and Shade’s three kids Shamus, Brent, and Caitlynne, on a stool each and handed them a tube of hard icing. The icing really was not hard, but it got hard enough to withstand being stuck on a cake after a few minutes and transported home. Giving them each a sheet of wax paper, Sam gave them the basics of making a flower, starting with a simple daisy and then a quick rosette.

Sara and Shade wanted some of the goodies in the worst way. Sam could practically see the drool on their chins. Shade had her eye on the Philly cheese Danish that had been smothered in cherries jubilee. It was a feather pastry made from layer upon layer of thin dough then after it rested, filled with cream cheese and confectioners’ sugar and vanilla. When it was finished baking, Sam had drizzled warm caramel over the top and sprinkled with chopped walnuts. If the customer wanted it to go, the cherries served in a little container on the side were added just before eating.

Sara was eyeing the Mad Mother Maker. It was a large brownie that had been baked in a large cupcake tin. When cooled, hollowed out and filled with thick dark chocolate fudge and candied cherries, there was a dollop of dark chocolate melted and shaped into a heart that sat dead center, and as if that was not enough, rich dark chocolate candy had been melted and streamed all over the top and dripped down the sides to form a puddle of a hard shell under it.

“You know if you want it, all you have to do is ask. I don’t make them for show.” Sam simply reached into the show trays that had been filled to pop under the glass counter in the morning and handed each of them the treat.

Shade didn’t even hesitate when Sam told her that she could have more of the cherries to pour over hers. She just opened the fridge door Sam had pointed to and scooped up another scoop of the beautiful fruit.

When each of the kids had finished and cleaned up their mess, Sam took the best attempt of the roses they had been trying to make and stuck them to the wedding cake. When Sara started to protest about the bride finding those little flowers that looked nothing like Sam’s, she pointed out that the bride would do good to notice anything about the cake, much less five little flowers among several hundred others.

They never got to talk about what they had come there to discuss, but that was all right, Sam supposed. They had made up and become friends of a sort. The kids were very happy with their results, and Sam taking their picture with the wedding cake and their flowers went a long way to smoothing out any ruffled feathers the women may have had toward her, at least Sam hoped so. And she was right; no one could tell one flower from the others—at least from a distance.

“Are you going home now, Miss Sam?”

Brent was a very lovely little boy that Sam had taken an immediate liking to. So when he had asked very nicely if Sam would please be able to bake him a “just ‘cause” cake, without flowers of course, sometime, she didn’t ask if it was all right, simply told him sure.

Sam had explained to them that sometimes people didn’t want their cakes to say anything on them; they just wanted a cake just because they could have it, no special reason.

“Later, but I don’t have far to go. I’ll just go upstairs when I start to fall asleep in the icing. I have a lot more baking to do tonight. I have a…” Sam looked at the women before she continued. “I have something to do tomorrow night.”

Sam had another rescue tomorrow night and she was very nervous about it. This move involved a woman and her six kids whose husband had become progressively more abusive as the years went by. The woman had tried to get away on her own a couple of times, but Sam had been told he always found them. The family had to wait until now to be moved. Moving six kids and one adult had proven to be a little more than the system was ready to handle then, that is why it had taken an extra week to get them out.

Last week, he had hit their oldest daughter and had broken her arm in two places. The little girl, Rosa, had missed the bus, which had had a different driver and she had gone the wrong direction, leaving several children to find an alternate way to school that day.

“Need any help with your late night jobs, Sam? I’m sure that I could persuade a couple of men to come along with you.”

Sam just glared at Sara’s suggestion. She figured that the alpha had told Aaron and he, in turn, had told Sara. Sam didn’t care for the way these people kept interfering with her life. And she especially didn’t care for the way they thought that she needed help either. She’d been doing fine on her own for some time now.

“Nope. If you think you know something, then spill it. Otherwise, what I do is my business, Mrs. MacManus, and I’d appreciate it if you and yours would mind your own where I’m concerned.” Sam leaned against the work table. “I don’t mean anything to you and your family and I’d just as soon keep it that way.”

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