Awakening Kiss (Watcher's Kiss Book 4) (8 page)

“We have a line,” Josie said, peeking into the front.

“That’s our cue.” Meena hopped up and followed Josie out of the kitchen.

Enza worked for hours, kneading some dough and mixing sugar and flour for others, drizzling ganache and crushing almonds to the music of Katy Perry on her little plug-in phone speakers. She had no idea how much time had passed when Meena burst into the kitchen.

“Oh. My. God. Enza,” she whisper-yelled, laying a hand on Enza’s wrist.

“What? What’s wrong?” Enza looked up, startled.

“The tallest, hottest guy I have ever seen is here. And he’s asking for you!” Meena’s brown eyes were huge.

“Holy hotness on a stick!” Josie ran in next. “Sexiest name ever, to go with that sexy ass.” She made a show of fanning her face. “Says his name is…Rhys.”

Enza nearly dropped the whisk she was using to keep her melting chocolate from burning. “Rhys?”

“Who is he and how do you know him? Where and when did you meet him? Why am I finding out now?” Meena demanded, but her eyes were playful. “Girl, you’ve been holding out on me. You are so dead.”

“I’m not. I just met him the other night.” Enza’s hand shook.
He’s here?
“What did he say?”

“He asked for you, specifically, and his voice is so low and rumbly, like he knows what he wants and he’s gonna get it.
Enza
.” Meena pitched her voice as deep as she could, giggling.

“Um.” Enza blinked. She hadn’t been sure if he remembered her at all. He probably had women throwing themselves at him.

“Well, go talk to him before the stroller mom crowd soaks our floor with their drool,” Josie said. “They’re eating him up with their eyes, let me tell you.”

“I can’t leave the chocolate. It’s at the critical point where it’ll burn—”

“Fuck the chocolate.” Meena looked at her like she was crazy.

“I’d fuck
him
,” Josie said.

“Stop!” Enza raised her voice. “He—” She looked up and clapped a hand over her mouth in mortification.

Rhys stood in the kitchen doorway, looking amused and even sexier in daylight. Sun from the kitchen’s rear window lit his broad chest and played along every ridge of muscle in his arms.

Meena and Josie froze, then Meena cleared her throat. “Customers can’t be back here,” she said. “But we can make a special exception.” She grabbed Josie’s hand and pulled her toward the front, turning to give Enza a wink.

Rhys stepped aside to let them through. “Hey.”

Enza opened and closed her mouth. “Um, hi.” She glanced at the chocolate, thanking her muscles for remembering to stir even though her brain had gone to mush. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He strode into the room and sat on one of the tall stools she kept by the work table. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Oh?” She dragged her eyes away from him. “That’s nice. Um, hang on…” Her chocolate was ready. She had to pour it now, or risk having it burn or start to solidify. And re-melting it never tasted right, at least not to her. She turned off the burner and brought the pan to a tray of sweet rolls with thumbprints hollowed out in the center. Methodically she poured a thimble full of warm chocolate into each one, letting a thin stripe paint its way across each crust for flair. One, two…ten…thirty rolls… “Done.” She set the pan in the sink and wiped an arm across her brow.

“I didn’t realize I’d catch you in the middle of precision cooking.” He nodded at the rolls.

She popped the baking sheet into an oven and giggled. “I never thought of this as precise…then again, baking is part science and part art. There are definite times when not minding the stove will cause disaster.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have too many of those.” Eyes that matched her chocolate glittered in playful mirth. Her cheeks heated.

“I try not to.” She fiddled with a corner of her apron, not sure if she should sit, keep working, or make him leave...
No way
. She didn’t want him to go. “Are you hungry?”

“I could go for something sweet.” The low timbre of his voice reached down into her core.

She fought to talk normally and not squeak like a little girl. “What do you like?”

He waited a beat. Never once breaking his focus on her. “I’m sure I’d like anything you make. Surprise me.”

Her tummy flipped. No, wait—it did a cartwheel—roundoff combo. He was in her space, he had sought her out, and he was flirting. Oh my god.

The timer on one oven went off, breaking the silence stretching between them. “Oh, um, hang on.” She stopped the beeping noise and grabbed her oven mitts. Her next batch was done.

Very aware that she had to bend down to open the oven—completely showcasing her ass to him—Enza did so as fast as she could. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and think she was acting forward. Then again, he’d initiated this visit…god, her mind was scrambled. Turning back, she set it on the table and met his eyes, which hadn’t left her. “Pound cake. I still need to make the icing.”

“I bet it’s just as good plain.” He reached for it—

“Stop, you’ll burn your hand.” She instinctively grabbed his arm.

He turned to her and tension swirled again like a vortex mixing with the heat of the appliances. His skin was warm and his sexy full lips quirked up.

She yanked her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can have a slice. Of course you can. Just let me cut it—”

“No, you’re right,” he said. “I got a little eager.”

Enza just stood there, embarrassed that she had touched him but kind of wanting to do it again. “I have other things that are cool enough to eat.”

The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Like I said, surprise me.”

She swallowed and walked to another counter where a sheet of blueberry muffins sat ready to go into the case as soon as the current tray emptied out. “Here,” she said. “An old standard.”

He took it, eyes locked on her, and took a bite. “Delicious.”

“Thank you.” Not that she thought he wouldn’t like it, but she was still glad he did. She started to get out ingredients for the cake icing and set them on the table.

“I should go. You’re busy,” he said. “I barged in here, after all.”

“You can stay.” True, he was distracting, but she liked that he had come.

“Nah, I need to get back to work. I just wanted to see if you were okay. New phone?” He nodded at her device.

“Yeah, the store was actually very cool about it.” She’d gotten a newer model. “I still need to reinstall all my apps and reenter my contacts though. I spent yesterday replacing my driver’s license and cancelling the credit cards that were in my wallet.”

He frowned. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.”

“Still, that’s a pain in the ass.” He studied the baking-themed artwork she’d hung up on the walls, then swung back to her. “So, there’s a street festival this Saturday, up on Lincoln Avenue.”

She nodded. “Yep, Java Genie will have a booth there.”

“Oh.” A pensive look crossed his face.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see if you’d go with me.”

“Oh.” She blinked.
Oh my god, yes yes yes.
“I do have to work part of the day there, but not the whole time.” She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Hottest guy ever asked her out! “Just come over anytime after eight.”

He smiled, genuine affection mixed with—was that a tiny bit of relief? “Mind giving me your number in case anything comes up?”

“Sure.” She rattled off her contact information and entered his into her phone.

“Great.” He took a step back. “See you Saturday.”

“Yep.” Giddiness swamped her and she didn’t have a prayer of hiding it. “Oh, wait.” She reached for her knife and cut a slice of pound cake, then wrapped it in waxed paper. “For the road.”

His fingers brushed hers as he took it, sending a jolt of electricity all the way to her toes. “Thanks.” He turned and strode out.

She took a greedy second to appreciate his ass, which was as sexy in those jeans as Josie had said. Wow. Her former idea of him being nuts seemed so distant it was only a fragment of memory. He seemed completely normal…except for the fact that he knew about all kinds of creatures that shouldn’t exist.

What was she getting herself into?

Rhys walked south from Java Genie, soaking up the summer sun like oxygen. Heat, cold, fog, blizzards—he was used to all of them. Had operated in enough areas of the realms over his three hundred years of life that he could adapt to anything.

That’s why Chicago suited him. Crazy weather changed every five minutes.

He bit into the fresh cake Enza had handed him and closed his eyes for a second in appreciation. It didn’t need icing, it was damn good just like that. Just like the blueberry muffin. If this was any indicator, she was one of the city’s best bakers.

She’d looked sexy as hell, with flour streaking her arms and tendrils of dark hair escaping her bun. He’d counted four ovens, all with some kind of doughy creations inside, and eight gas burners. Decorative signs in Italian hung on the walls, alternating with artwork of cakes, cupcakes, and fancy desserts he had no idea what to call. And moving around like a general, in total command of every last grain of sugar in the room, Enza exuded confidence. Never flustered as she moved piping hot pastries from stove to oven to sink and back…except when she looked at him. Enza was a delicacy he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He knew her smell. How would she taste? Damn…

Lincoln Park’s neat streets gave way to the even pricier brownstones and graystones of the Gold Coast. Modern condo buildings soared, with the trendy requisite balconies hanging off them like odd iron attachments. The pounding of a drum thumped from one corner as a man swayed, nodding and smiling at passersby.

Taxis honked at pedestrians who paid no attention to the lights and crossed streets whenever they felt like it. He strode through the high rent shopping district with its designer boutiques before reaching his own street.

In a minute he was through the gated iron fence and in the cool dark foyer. He let the heavy oak door slam behind him and headed for the kitchen. Grabbing a water bottle, he moved into the den and sat in front of his computers.

With a few keystrokes, he linked to the GPS tracker he’d surreptitiously attached to Enza’s new phone. Red halos flared out from the dot, reassuring him the thing was working and that she was at her shop. It hadn’t been hard to slip the tiny chip between her device and the case that protected it. She’d had to turn away from him often to mind her burners and ovens. The problem had been him nearly getting busted every time, checking out her curvy ass.

But he’d done it. And it would give him a small measure of satisfaction to know where she was, if she ever ended up in a sketchy neighborhood again.

How would she feel about being tracked? He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. She might be pissed. But he was worried about her safety.

Damn. If he were honest, it was more than worry. Something about her intrigued him and awakened the need to protect. Who the hell knew why, but he would roll with it and accept her potential anger at him for tampering with her phone.

Glancing out the window at the thick hedges beyond, he frowned. Was it worth the risk? He knew exactly what it felt like, the betrayal of trust, the knowledge someone had been keeping tabs on him and snooping in his business. Only his situation had been one of manipulation, not concern.

Sinna. In the length of a demon’s life, she was here for just a recent blink in time. A full Deserati female, she had jet black hair and bright blue eyes, and she’d fallen hard for Rhys. Or so he thought.

They’d never felt the bond that mates feel, but the weeks they spent together had been a haze of insatiable desire mixed with fun, goofing off time. And she’d shared his interest and skill with computers. They’d talked shop and swapped hacking tips.

He just never expected to be on the wrong end of her fingers at the keyboard.

He’d trusted her enough to leave her alone at the Lash house when he wasn’t around. And when a mission had been compromised, sensitive information leaked, Arawn had been furious. Watchers had been injured as they were ambushed. Luckily, no one was killed.

But the leak was traced back to Rhys, who would give his life before betraying any of his team, or his leader. Then two and two had clicked, and Sinna’s involvement was confirmed.

Rhys had been disciplined, given low level assignments for letting her close to their tech. She had been turned over to her clan leader—a favor—since Arawn knew the guy. Otherwise she would’ve been killed.

Her façade still haunted him. The times she queried him for details of what he did, and he thought she was genuinely hoping the Watchers would succeed. Yet throughout, she’d been relaying it all to her cronies.

Fuck. Thanks to her, a woman with tons of questions usually made him run the other way. But Enza pulled him as if an invisible string connected them.

She’s different.
Honesty shone through her words. But Rhys had thought Sinna was honest too. Maybe he wasn’t the best judge of character.

But hell, he was going to find out. He could put up walls too. No need to say more than he had to. He’d find out what he could about Enza…then decide if he could risk letting down those walls.