Sweet Inspiration (2 page)
Authors: Penny Watson
Captivated by the seductive baker and her culinary creations, Nicholas found himself lingering in Eston, New York. His long weekend turned into a fortnight, and every day he discovered some new delicacy in Lucy's shop. She haunted his dreams each night, taunting him with her soft white skin and sugary confections. In the light of day, he'd not yet found the courage to speak to her.
But that was about to change. Tomorrow, he had to return home. And he would be damned if he would return to his village without discovering her secrets.
All
of her secrets. His raging desire for the petite chef was driving him mad, and he was determined to savor her like an excellent French brandy.
Tonight he would seduce luscious Lucy Anne Brewster, and cure himself once and for all of his obsession. He brushed the melted snowflakes off his face, and crossed the street toward Sweet Inspiration, ready to discover the ingredients to Lucy's treasure.
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Sweet Inspiration
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Chapter Two
* * * *
Thinly sliced apples, nestled in bourbon-laced custard, overflowed the delicate flaky crust.
Lucy spent hours cutting out tiny apples, leaves, and flowers to decorate the tops. Of course, Mrs. Henderson invited Lucy to attend the festive party, but there was no time. Her holiday orders were enormous, and work always came first.
Strangely enough, this was the first Christmas season she felt a touch bittersweet when she heard St. Joseph's choir caroling in the town square. As she watched the families swaying to the music, their mitten-covered hands linked, she felt a pang of...something in her chest. Probably just indigestion from her coffee. But she had a sneaking suspicion that it might be more like a bit of melancholy. It had been a very long time since Lucy linked hands with anyone. It would be heavenly to wake up on Christmas morning in someone's arms. Someone who cared enough about her to choose a special gift, not just another wilted poinsettia or box of soaps.
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Sweet Inspiration
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The new customer in her shop was certainly not helping matters. The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was huge, towering over her by a good foot and a half. His shoulders were wide and solid, his hands enormous. The stranger's demeanor was seriously intense. Lucy had not witnessed a single smile. He wore wire-rimmed glasses over his hazel eyes, and had a thick black beard to match dark wavy hair.
Every day for weeks he'd settled down in a corner with various cookies, pastries and decadent desserts. The look on his face while he sampled her wares was positively disconcerting. He appeared to be memorizing each bite, analyzing the creations. At first she thought he was a food critic. His buttoned-up appearance and overwhelming focus on her food lent credence to that idea. But a food critic would not be visiting her shop so frequently.
Lucy was mortified that her hands shook each time she waited on him. When she leaned over the table to serve her pumpkin creme brulee, his delicious scent hit her like a steam engine...smoky rum and dark spices. Rough callused hands gripped the shaking dish, and saved her the embarrassment of dropping the dessert in his lap. Horrified by her reaction to him, she fled. But not before she noticed him peeking down her blouse. His look of hunger had nothing to do with her creme brulee.
Further adding to her mortification was the sad fact that she was dreaming about him. Wicked, naughty dreams. Never in her twenty-eight years of life had she experienced such lusty nighttime reveries. Those big rough hands, soft full lips, 16
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and rock-hard body brought her unimaginable pleasure. Only in her dreams did her mystery man smile, a slow seductive grin that reminded her of the big bad wolf.
If only she had the courage to introduce herself. Although she was out-going and friendly with her patrons, she found herself too flustered to speak to her mystery customer.
Lucy sighed as she nudged the door to Sweet Inspiration open with her boot, carefully balancing the basket of apples in her arms. A large hand, encased in a handsome leather glove, grasped the door above her head. She glanced up, and in the twirling snowflakes, saw his face. Dark, serious, and lightly dusted with melting snow.
"Oh! My goodness, I didn't see you there. Um, thanks...for the door, I mean."
Good gracious, Luce, pull yourself
together. You sound like a bumbling idiot!
"My pleasure, Miss Brewster." His voice was so deep and rich, Lucy shivered. He gently took the basket from her arms, and smiled. A slow, seductive, wolfish smile, and Lucy shivered again.
"It's quite cold out this evening. We should really get inside." He gestured to the inside of the shop, and Lucy nodded mutely.
"How do you know my name?" she asked as she pulled off her cap. He seemed mesmerized by the sight of her messy curls falling down around her shoulders. Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to her face.
"Everyone around here knows your name, Miss Brewster, owner of Sweet Inspiration, and friend to all. I've heard many intriguing things about you."
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Lucy laughed. "I find that hard to believe. Nothing about me is 'intriguing.' You, however, are a mystery." She blushed as the words popped unbidden out of her mouth.
"Am I? How so?"
"You've been here every day for weeks, and I don't know who you are. You're not a food critic, by any chance? I hope you've been enjoying our food."
"Not a food critic, just a fellow baker duly impressed by your creations. About those sugar cookies..."
"Lu-cy! Thank God you're here! Thirteen cousins are dropping by for my party, and they have extremely hearty appetites. I hope you have enough apples to increase my order. I think fifteen pies should be adequate." Mrs.
Henderson, red-faced and clearly frazzled, grabbed Lucy by the shoulders and shook vigorously. "You do have extra apples, don't you?"
Lucy extricated herself from Bertha's grip and patted her arm reassuringly. "Calm down, Bertha. I have plenty of apples. Would you like a few platters of cookies, too? Are there children coming?"
"Why, yes, there are children. Quite a handful, so poorly behaved. Why, the last time they visited..."
Lucy cut her off before she started another story. Mrs.
Henderson had a tendency to be long-winded with her family dramas. "Why don't I include a platter of Santa cookies? The children love those. And Genevieve made beautiful candy canes this morning. We'll fill a few stockings and add them to the order."
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"Wonderful! You are a darling girl. I'll see you in the morning." Bertha wrapped a bright pink muffler around her face and hurried out of the shop.
Before Lucy had a chance to find out her mystery man's name, another arm reached out and grabbed her. "Lucy!
Come and see our new puppy! He's an early Christmas present from Santa!"
Little Amy Chandler was tugging Lucy's hand and pointing to a bundle of fur wrapped up in a blanket on her mother's lap. Dogs should not be in the bakery, but the puppy did look adorable. Lucy better say a quick hello. And of course she would send them home with a bag of homemade dog biscuits, shaped like elves. In a matter of moments Lucy was surrounded by children all wanting to pet the new puppy.
Nicholas carefully folded his coat over the back of a cafe chair and watched Lucy giggle with the children, as the puppy (
lucky bastard
), licked her face like an ice cream cone. He could barely contain his irritation.
First of all, a dog had no place in a dining establishment.
What the hell was the woman thinking? Secondly, if a customer attempted a last-minute order change, Nicholas would firmly instruct him that all orders were final five days prior to the gathering. How could one efficiently run a kitchen without rules? Thirdly, and most importantly, Nicholas could smell gingerbread. Cookies. And they were burning. Lucy was oblivious. And her young assistant with the nose ring was leaning over the front counter watching the puppy, utterly clueless about the impending culinary disaster.
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Sweet Inspiration
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Nicholas tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for someone to remember the cookies. He knew by the scent that the cookies were browning, probably a bit too dark around the edges. Still waiting. Now the assistant was snuggling with the puppy, and an old man was regaling Lucy with some ridiculous story
. Oh, the hell with it
Nicholas marched into the kitchen, which was surprisingly clean, found a pair of oven mitts shaped like Laurel and Hardy, and removed the cookies from the oven. He found wire racks in a cupboard and lined them up on the counter.
Although the cookies were a tad dark, they were still salvageable. Thanks to him. Using a spatula, he carefully transferred each gingerbread man to cool on the racks. He washed and dried his hands at the sink, and turned around to find Lucy and her nose-pierced assistant staring at him in disbelief.
Lucy stepped up to him, hands on her hips. "Just what do you think you're doing in my kitchen? I don't remember inviting you in here!" Lucy asked him incredulously.
"Yeah!" added the assistant. Clearly not the brightest bulb on the planet.
"Since you and your assistant were too busy to tend to the kitchen, and an entire order of gingerbread was about to go up in smoke, I thought I would lend a helping hand. No need to thank me." Nicholas smiled and raised his left eyebrow in a manner his brother Sven insisted was infuriating.
"Thank you? Kandy and I are more than capable of looking after the kitchen. We do not need your help, Mr...?"
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"Klaus. Nicholas Sebastian Klaus. Is your assistant really named Candy? How...charming."
"It's Kandy Kane, with a K, not a C. I'm a performance artist." The young woman gave him a rather lukewarm smile.
"Fascinating." Nicholas turned to Lucy, who looked ready to murder him.
Good going, Nick, how are you supposed to
seduce her now?
"I run my own kitchen up north. I assumed you wouldn't mind a little help, since you were...momentarily distracted.
Have I told you that your sugar cookies are divine? They are, truly. I was wondering if we could discuss the subtle flavor profile..."
Lucy crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Mr. Klaus, while I appreciate your concern for my cookies, I can assure you I do not need any more help in my kitchen. Why don't you sit down with a cup of cocoa, and I'll bring you some gingerbread cookies. Nice and dark, just the way I like them." And then Miss Lucy Anne Brewster raised her right eyebrow in an utterly patronizing manner. Nicholas simply could not help himself. He raised his eyebrow right back.
Two can play at
this game.
A young man rushed into the kitchen, grabbed the performance artist and began to thrust his oddly pierced tongue into her mouth.
"Oh Kandy, can you ever forgive me? Let's get married right now. Vegas, baby, what do you say? I want our bambino to have a daddy." Nicholas noted that in addition to his creatively pierced face, tongue-boy also sported a nice 21
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assortment of tattoos, all of candy. Peppermints, butterscotch balls, M-and-Ms, and of course, candy canes.
"Oh Ray, I missed you." Miss Kane began thrusting her tongue right back at him.
Nicholas turned to Lucy. "Ray? That's not too original."
Lucy shrugged. "Ray, as in Ray-of-Sunshine. They're both performance artists." Then she turned to her assistant and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Kandy, you are forbidden to leave me right now. It's the middle of our busiest season, and I need you. You and Ray can get married after the new year..."
"But I don't want to wait, Miss Brewster. I love him!"
Ray licked the side of his girlfriend's face, and both Nicholas and Lucy shuddered. "Yeah, and I got tickets for us to see Celine Dion, your favorite, honey."
Lucy watched in disbelief as her assistant bundled up in a parka, plopped on a red Santa hat, and flew out the door with the gangly boy. Nicholas bit his tongue to keep from laughing.
Served the woman right for hiring such a flake in the first place.
Leaning down close to Lucy's ear, he whispered, "Need a new assistant? I just happen to know the perfect gentleman for the job."
* * * *
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Lucy slowly turned her head to stare at the infuriating man. His eyes positively gleamed with delight at her unfortunate predicament. And his lips were...well they looked delicious. Full, firm and oh so close to her mouth. She had the shocking impulse to bite down on his lower lip, and then lap at it like a kitten.
What am I thinking? Get a hold of yourself,
girl!
"Mr. Klaus, that is a very kind offer, but I'm sure I'll struggle by...without you." Then Lucy spun on her heel and headed to the freezer in the back of the kitchen. She was trying very hard not to cry, but the truth was that Kandy just left her in the lurch, and she could really use some extra hands. However, she was not about to give Mr. Eyebrow the satisfaction of knowing any of that. She pulled several large batches of homemade pastry dough out of the freezer and spread them out on the counter to thaw. Wiping the back of her hand across her teary eyes, Lucy resigned herself to a long lonely all-nighter in the kitchen.
Just me, ten thousand
apples, and a butt-load of bourbon. Thank God for the
bourbon