Have Your Cake (13 page)

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Mama asked.

“I think so.” She spoke through her fingers before dropping her hands. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put Huffing Kitchen in any kind of bind.”

The phone ringing broke into their discussion. Mama gave her the “this conversation isn’t over” glance, and then answered the phone.

“Iona,” Cyana hissed at her sister.

“What?” Iona hauled Josiah further up her lap. “I’m not the one who said anything.”

Cyana let out a frustrated groan.

“Ce Ce, he’s a hitter,” Iona whispered. The words crashed into Cyana’s core and coiled a tight knot in her middle. Ancient dread seeped into her limbs. The sting of fear sprouted in her throat. She'd spent years under Jamal's tyranny and endured many hospital visits to check on her baby. It all crashed into her, wrenching a shudder up her spine.

“Yes, Mr. Wilmington.” Mama’s voice made them fall silent. “Of course, Mr. Wilmington. Is there anything I can assist you with? Okay. You have a wonderful day.” Mama fixed her sight on Cyana. “It’s for you.”

Cyana thought her heart would jump from her chest. She huffed in a gulp of air before reaching for the phone. Her hands shook with anxiety as she placed the device to her ear.

“Breathe,” Iona hissed.

A weak gasp passed her throat, reminding her she still had a voice. “H-hello.”

“Hello, Love.”

His voice warmed her earlobe, making her heart pitter-patter in her chest. She suddenly wanted to do flips of joy in the kitchen despite the horrific news her sister had discovered. Fear coiled through the familiarity of her conflicting emotions.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

“Um.” She shot a glance around the room to her cakes, mother and sister.

Mama was back to stirring the pot. Iona mouthed an “I’m sorry.”

Cyana willed strength into her shoulders and her voice. “Yes. I’m elbows deep in the cake samples to present to Rebecca tomorrow.”

“I just finished sealing the floors in our kitchen to prep for appliance delivery. I’d love to show you how it all turned out. You should come over and see the end results of all your hard work.”

She nearly reached for the cakes as her excuse, to say she wouldn’t meet her deadline if she came but she nibbled on her bottom lip after a glance at the time. It wasn’t noon yet. The working nature of the Huffing women had them all up before the sun prepping food. She’d even managed to pick up her car right when Matthew’s opened the doors for business.

“I, ugh. Asher, you know how important this is for me.”

“I do. That’s why I invited Rebecca to come here for the taste testing tomorrow. I figured you could finish up your cakes over here and use our fridge to store them. Besides, you forgot something very important.”

“I did?” she asked.

“Huffin Muffin.”

Cyana dropped her head back with a silent curse. Her business plan sat on top of the fridge at the Milway. “What time?”

“Can you make it in thirty?”

“K.” She hung up the phone.

Iona’s curious gaze was wide-eyed and eager.

“He asked if I could finish the cakes over at the Milway,” Cyana said. She leaned against the counter and set down the phone, not feeling nearly as excited as she wanted to after hearing Iona’s discovery of violence in his past.

“Why?” Iona asked.

“He wants to show me the finished tile job we did together. He’s asked Rebecca to come there for the cake tasting tomorrow.” She placed both hands against the cornrows on top of her head. “I left my portfolio for Huffin Muffin over there.”

“Are you going?” Iona asked.

“Iona, your client has requested I meet with him. I think it might be in the best interest of Huffing Kitchen if I don’t rub him the wrong way.” She shoved from the counter. “I gotta be there in thirty.”

They loaded up the car in silence. Cyana kissed Mama’s cheek.

“Be careful, baby girl. We’ll see you for the game tonight.”

“I will.” Cyana walked to the driver’s seat were Iona stood with the keys.

Iona heaved a breath before passing them over. “Ce Ce, if it’s any consolation, I barely read a few articles on him.”

Cyana shook her head. “If there was something he wanted to tell me, then it should have been his call.”

Iona pouted. “I’m sorry, but you can be too trusting, Ce Ce. I thought I was protecting you with some light research. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“He’s a hitter, Iona.” She sighed. “I can’t have another one of those.” She pressed her hand into the ache of her chest before giving Iona a hug. “I’m sorry I got so upset.” She squeezed her sister tighter. “I’m grateful you told me.”

A
sher was standing at the top of the front porch; the familiar tapping of the Gremlin filled the air. The aged vehicle emerged on the long Milway drive. He could have kicked himself in the ass for waiting so anxiously for Cyana to arrive. Missing her throughout the night had done a number on his ability to play it cool. She drove the car around front before shutting it off. He shoved himself from the white column and trotted down the stairs while she got out and rounded the vehicle.

The first glimpse of her profile sprouted a renewed static in his chest. The grin he could never get rid of around her peeled across his face. He captured her hand before she could go for the trunk. The scent of cocoa butter and peppermint wafted from her.

“Hello, Love.” Her attentions were fleeting until he wrapped is arm around her waist and kissed her lips. She stiffened in his grasp and refused to look at him.
Something isn’t right.
He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted until she made eye contact. “You all right, Love?”

She flashed a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry. Just, pressed for time today.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Got plans?”

She nodded. “I gotta be back to Mama’s tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll help you unload. We can do your cake before seeing the floors.”

“We?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping to steal some of your free time, but it looks like I’ll have to help you create it first.” He lifted her by the waist. She let out a short cry before he set her up against the trunk of the car. “I want a real one of these first.” He possessed her lips. Her kiss was restrained but under his persistence she relaxed and moaned into his mouth after a few moments. He glimpsed the passion spark in her gaze once he shifted away and hummed with satisfaction. “Come on. Let’s go.” He tapped her hip twice before tugging her from the car and setting her down. “How’d things go at Matthew’s?” he asked.

He noted her heavy sigh before she answered. “Thanks, Asher, but you didn’t have to. I can reimburse you for the repairs and tow in a few days.” She popped the hatch on the car, revealing the trunk stacked with containers.

“I got a better idea. Don’t.” He shrugged. “I haven’t done my good deed for the month.”

“Good deed?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He reached into the cooler and retrieved the long containers she’d stashed away. He shot her a questioning glance.

“I don’t have air conditioning. It’s chocolate,” she said.

“And you drove from Chicago to Georgia in the middle of summer?”

“At night,” she defended. “It’s cooler at night.”

“You drove alone, at night?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged.

“Right, there's nothing wrong with that.” he grumbled; then twirled towards the house once she reached for more boxes. “No, don’t.” He threw over his shoulder.

She froze, placed a hand on her hip. “Hey, Cowboy, I’ve been doing a lot more than driving and carrying my gear alone.”

He half-turned to her and tilted his head towards the house. “You aren’t alone today. Get the door. I’ll get the stuff. You can start organizing in the kitchen.”

The irritation with his concern simmered at the surface. She swallowed her retort.

“This is called being helpful, Love,” he said. “I don’t have to do just one good deed.”

She shook her head at him before leading the way up the steps to the door. Why did it bother her? The question turned over in her mind again and again. Was he presenting a false man? She paused in the mist of unloading the cooled boxes. Was she being fair? Asher had given her no reason to believe he was violent, but then again, Jamal had been the perfect gentleman until she became pregnant with Eric. When she noticed Asher in the kitchen with the final boxes in his arms she asked, “So, what’s this good deed thing about?”

He set the stack of sweet smelling boxes on the kitchen island while she continued to unpack. “I do something generous for someone every month. The only stipulation is the person has to be a stranger. It helps keep the demons off my ass.”

He smirked at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “So, I’m your target this month.”

He chuckled and arranged the last of the containers on the island before tugging her over to him. “I’m starting to think you won’t count. I’ve seen enough of you to be very familiar with
who
you are.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple.

“There’s not much to know,” she said.

“Mm. Simple girl, eh?” He sighed over her hair and ran his palms along both her arms before kissing the top of her head. “I like it.” He reached out to the box behind her permeating with irresistible smells. “What’s this?” He flipped open the lid. “Red velvet?” His voice perked with enthusiasm. He reached for the sheet cake.

“Back!” She swatted his hand. “Back, you vile beast.”

He laughed, sensing his Cyana had escaped from whatever cage she’d locked herself up in. “Aw man. Now I’ve gone from white boy to vile beast?”

She giggled. “You can have the leftovers after I cut them.”

“Them?”

She pointed at the top box and made her way down the list. “Red velvet, German chocolate, vanilla, yellow and white.”

He groaned. “I’m gonna get so fat.”

She laughed. “You can’t take a bite until I say so.”

“Sister-girl, you got yourself a deal.” He moved towards the door. “I’ll go close up the car so we can get this party started.”

C
yana sighed once Asher left the kitchen, the trail of his sweet smelling aftershave hung in her nostrils, directing her attention from the scent of vanilla, chocolate and sugar her creations added to the space. Prickly bites of her history crept along her shoulders and down her spine. She was here before, caught in the battle of heart versus head. Her stomach knotted. Nausea seeped into her system. She had to stop this attraction before she got hurt again.

Her arms warmed where he’d rubbed her. The thought of breaking off their relationship thumped her heart with betraying refusal. “God, this is stupid. It should be so easy.” She scrubbed her face with her hands.
He’s a hitter. Right?
She crossed her arms over her middle with memories of pain and humiliation. Recalling the lies she’d parroted to police through busted lips and broken jaws, collarbones, arms and ribs. The officers saw through her as if she were made of air, too weak or wounded to cry. She’d always been a terrible liar.
Asher is not Jamal.
She fought back the tears. A shiver racked her spine.
Why am I so weak?

He didn’t know what she’d found out about him. She didn’t have all the details. It wasn’t fair to change her behavior. It wasn’t right to deny herself these moments of fun with him.

“Don’t ruin it. Just…let it be. For today, at least. It’s not him. This time it really is me.” She sucked in a breath. “It really is me.” She sighed and fell into the energy of the kitchen. The sun shined through the large glass window off to her right, lighting the breakfast nook where they sat and ate his delicious dinners. The white cabinets in the kitchen gleamed, adding to the air of happiness. She leaned against the cool countertop before arranging her tools.

A
sher watched her with intensity as she cut each cake, choosing two different sizes of rounds for the red velvet, yellow and white cake. Cyana cut the German chocolate and vanilla into varied squares. She separated the cake segments from the waste sponge and tossed the unused portions into a single box. She slid the contents over to Asher. He smiled at her.

The warmth she’d grown accustomed to washed over her. She soon forgot he was there while she focused on icing the many layers of her sample cakes. She dirty iced all five mini cakes before she sighed and examined her creations. The wheels were turning in her head as she imagined the finished designed of the red velvet.

“Damn, woman. You’re some kind of magic with sugar.”

She glanced at Asher with the half-devoured box of waste cake. Her spine straightened. “Asher, you ate that much cake?”

He nodded. “Ruined my appetite.”

She laughed heartily, covering her stomach while leaning into the counter. “You’re going to be sick.”

“I got a little bit of cake hangover going on right about now.” He grinned. “Hair of the dog will clear it right up.”

“Cowboy, you better not eat anymore cake,” she warned.

“You’re probably right.” He eyed her tiers. “What next?”

“Fondant. Mr. Helper, if you wanna make yourself useful for more than a garbage disposal you should get over here.”

“For you? Anytime.”

“Good. Grab a rolling pin.”

Asher washed up, then went into the kitchen’s pantry and returned with rolling pins. He settled next to her, his scent mingling well with the treats. She stifled the need to give in to the tingling of her lips and go for a kiss. Instead, she opted to dust a clean section of counter next to her with powdered sugar before covering her workplace. It was the more practical thing to do. “You gotta work quickly. I’ll give you the smaller pieces.”

“Oh, going easy on me, huh?”

She smiled. “I’m a professional. I don’t expect you to keep up.”

“How hard could it be?”

“Rules,” she said, tugging plastic wrapped balls of fondant from the container. She needed to get going or she'd lose her focus entirely. “Roll it super thin, about an eighth of an inch. For the top tiers it should measure a six inch round on the circles and an eight inch round on the squares. Try not to get the powdered sugar on the top. Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“K. Get your fondant. Knead it a bit to make it loose. Then start rolling.”

She’d successfully covered four of the five bottom tiers while Asher worked on the first small round.

He scratched his head and peered over to her. “Mine certainly doesn’t look like yours.”

She paused, analyzing the round he was working and the wrinkled elephant-skin surface. “Oh, you’ve worked it too long.”

“Damn, you make this look effortless.”

She smiled. “Give me a minute.” She slapped down her last piece and worked it against the marble before smoothing it out over the final circle.

“Just rub salt in the wound,” Asher joked.

She chuckled. “You just need a little practice. Here. I’ll work with you.” She stepped to the front of him after giving a new piece of her homemade fondant a few squeezes. “Place your hands on the pin.”

He captured her between his biceps. She settled her grip over his. “Okay. Start rolling.”

The peppermint fragrance of her hair hit Asher’s nostrils. Cyana’s heat burned into the front of his body. Something rattled his little baker before she showed up, but as she eyed her creations and worked magic on the sponge cake, ease seeped over her.

“A little more pressure,” she said. The back of her brushed against his front. He stifled a groan. His growing cock wasn’t making concentration easy.

“If you want more pressure then I gotta come a bit closer, little lady.” He took another step forward into full contact with her and gave the pin a roll.

“Like that,” she said. “A bit harder. Keep going.”

“I’m thinking we had this conversation already.”

She smiled, turned her head and placed a kiss against his jaw. Randomly, his mind registered he had yet to take her from this position. The memory of her sopping pussy caused his cock to buck.
Focus, Cowboy. You promised to help with these cakes if she came over.

He took a long breath through his suffering and followed her lead. Her delicate hands moved over his with tenderness. She strengthened her grip every time she wanted him to apply more pressure to guide his strokes. With her expert assistance, he was able to roll out four rounds.

“Think you got the hang of it?” she asked, moving away to cover the top cake layers.

“I might have paid enough attention to get one of these done.” He rolled another while she smoothed the fondant over the thick coating of butter cream for the cakes set out on the counter. “How’d I do?” he asked.

She straightened and smiled. “Not too bad for a cowboy.”

He observed her working with the precision and calm of a professional while she smoothed the cakes to perfection using circular motions. She whipped out a pizza cutter and made each cake tidy before stacking them in a variety of shapes.

“Is there rhyme or reason to setting them off center?” he asked.

She beamed at him. “You’ll see after they’re decorated. Can you get me the chocolate?”

He fetched the containers, sitting on a stool to watch her. She moved quickly and applied pieces of pre-formed shapes to the cakes. Each one took on its own personality. Flowers, sea creatures and stencils went along with dots and swirls, hearts and edible pearls. Finally, she sat back on her heels.

“Done.”

His brow rose. “Wow. I didn’t expect each one to look so different.”

Her smile was broad as she entwined her hands behind her back and bounced on her tip toes. “I gotta show off.”