What's Life Without the Sprinkles? (20 page)

“Hey, Claude, got a minute?” Nate circled around the back of her counter and took a Styrofoam peanut from the box.

“Sure.” Now that she had put her worry to the back of her mind and let her lust roar to the front, she imagined wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth. He wore black pants with a pale blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. It wasn’t often she got to see him in something other than jeans and T-shirts or sweatshirts, and it only served to whet her appetite for Friday, when he would be in a suit coat and tie, too. Yummy. She caught herself before she leaped at him, rode him to the rubber mat behind her counter, and had her wicked way with him. “I...um...what can I do you for? I mean, do for you?” She knew she was blushing, but she’d put it down to just having come out of the kitchen, if she had to. It wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t have to know.

“I wanted to check the time with you for that dinner with Justin and find out if I need to buy him anything for it. I’ve never been to one of these with him since he’s always taken you. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

It didn’t tear at her nearly as much this time that she wasn’t going. In fact, she’d convinced herself that the time alone would be nice, and it was just one more way for Justin and Nate to bond. Not that they needed to be any closer, since they were thick as thieves. Perhaps this is what he had wanted to talk about face to face and she had wigged out for no reason.

If she’d had any resistance to him at all, his question now would have melted everything inside her. As it was, she tried valiantly to keep herself from grabbing his ears and kissing the daylights out of him. She did, however, lean in and kiss him on the cheek. She wasn’t fool enough to pass up this perfect opportunity. She lingered for a second longer and pulled away from him slowly, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for a full minute that felt like forever.

He put his hand on his cheek, a startled expression clouding his face. “What was that for?”

“You’re a great guy. I appreciate you doing this for Justin. He’s so excited, he’s ready to burst at the seams. So, thanks.”

“Um, sure, okay.” His look went from startled to confused. He seemed to shake it off in a moment. His normal grin came back onto his lips. “So is there anything I can do for Justin? If he were a girl, I’d get him a corsage or something. Do we need to have boutonnieres? Will the other kids’ dads have something special for them?”

“No, but thanks for asking. I would have supplied something if you needed it.”

“Hey, I’m a working man. I can afford to take my friend out to dinner.”

As he leaned back against her counter with his legs crossed at the ankles, she wanted to bite him in the worst possible way. The thought arose from the back of her mind, and she pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth to keep them closed. She had to get him moving along before she really did something outrageous. Or before that other shoe dropped and he mentioned the cake thing. “Well, thanks for stopping by. He’ll be waiting for you on Friday. Don’t forget to dress pretty much like what you have on plus a tie and a coat. He’ll be wearing the same thing.”

She turned away, dismissing him and trying to think about getting to work on an elaborate anniversary cake for a couple celebrating fifty years together. She needed something to calm her hormones.

Either he didn’t know she had work to do or he thought she could afford to stand around all day and handle the sight of his burly body. She felt his presence behind her, and he hadn’t shifted an inch.

“Was there something else you needed?” she asked, swiping at a couple of strands of hair that had fallen out of her ruthless ponytail. She had too much baking to do today to have nice swingy hair like Zoe. Damn him for coming in on a day she looked like death warmed over. She didn’t even think a fancy dress in two days was going to make an impression on him. She was about to give up on that anyway. After the way they’d gone after each other after lunch the other day, he hadn’t touched her again. It was as if nothing had happened. And it was damned disappointing.

But now he was no longer leaning casually. Instead he took her by the shoulders, gently turned her toward him, and nearly blew her socks off. Or would have, if she’d been wearing any.

“I want to be your cake,” he said in answer to her old, unanswered question. Then he leaned in and kissed her square on the mouth.

****

Nate walked out of the shop, probably looking as stunned as Claudia had when he’d backed off after a brief pressure of lips on lips. He had no idea what possessed him to tell her he wanted to be her cake. He had come to the decision over the past few days that she was too important to him, their relationship was too important to him, to make any changes. He’d never successfully had a long-term relationship other than his friendship with her, and he shouldn’t be messing with perfection.

But she’d looked so adorable with her hair curling around her face and her flushed skin, he’d done it before he really gave it a thought. It was supposed to be—should have been—a friendly kiss on the cheek, but he’d taken it into a whole different realm. Damn. And then he’d offered to be her damn cake. He was losing his mind, for sure.

Slamming into his truck, he cranked the engine and nearly squealed out from his parking spot. There was no reason to act like a jerk and get a speeding ticket, though. He slowed down and forced his mind to remain absolutely blank on how soft Claudia’s lips had been and the way cake batter smelled on her, like the richest perfume in the world…

Not working. Damn.

And now he had to go to a meeting with his dad with a boner he could probably hang shingles with. He’d have untucked his shirt if he thought he could get away with it, but he’d been told to come dressed for business to his dad’s office, and you crossed Darren West at your own peril.

He had about ten minutes until he hit the office, so he switched on the radio and tried to think about anything other than Claudia and that kiss. But, like some crazy cosmic joke, every station had some song about lips and kissing or touching. Even the hard rock station had a seventies song about licking. He flicked off the radio with more force than necessary and tore the knob right off.

His cell phone rang from the seat next to him. He wanted to ignore the constant buzzing but was afraid it might be his dad with some last-minute instructions. Glancing at the display screen before flipping the phone open, he sighed in relief when he saw it was his brother. “Hey, what’s up? Are you at Dad’s already?”

“No, man, I’m not. I should be there in about two minutes. I wanted to catch you before you came in, though, and let you know I saw your little act in the window of Decadence. I was thinking maybe you were doing some advertising for the shop. Or maybe you were helping her get icing off her face. Maybe she had something in her eye. Anyway, I just thought it was mighty interesting to drive by on my merry way and see that little display. Good job there, big brother.” His cackle ran through the line and grated on Nate’s nerves.

He didn’t even bother saying goodbye, just snapped the phone closed and threw it on the seat. He’d have to beat the crap out of Logan later. Right now he had to figure out how he was going to sit across from him for a whole meeting and ignore his knowing smile and leers without taking his bait. Both his brother and their dad had been trying to get Nate together with Claudia for years. Actually, they alternated between getting them together and telling him to run on out and get laid. Although maybe their prodding was better than his mom calling to harass him about when could Grandma start on some baby booties since she wasn’t going to be around forever.

He would have laid his head on the steering wheel if he wasn’t hurtling through town at forty miles per hour in a twenty-five-miles-an-hour zone. The cop who always sat around the corner of Blanchard Street saw him hurtling, too. Nate’s day was complete when he accepted a ticket and a warning to pay attention to what he was doing while driving even if his mind was preoccupied by kissing that pretty girl down at the wedding shop.

****

Justin slammed through the door of their upstairs apartment after school that afternoon, and Claudia braced herself for anything. She’d come upstairs to take a short breather after that kiss and the things it did to her insides. Nate had said he would see her later—and then kissed her again like he couldn’t get enough, now that he’d made up his mind.

As for the slamming door, maybe someone who had seen the kiss in the window earlier had said something about it to Justin. Her mom had already called to chide her for causing a ruckus in town. So had Nate’s mother, and his grandma, who was doing better if still ornery. May had called, too, to congratulate her. So much for being inconspicuous.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the kiss had nothing to do with the slamming door. Justin hit her with a curve ball.

“Hey! Did you know I’m a bastard?” Happiness radiated from his every pore. Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, he practically vibrated with the emotion.

Caught off guard, by both the language and the completely inappropriate glee in his eyes, Claudia took a moment to calm her pounding heart before answering. “Who said that word to you? I don’t want you repeating it.” She said it sternly, while inside she was seething and crumbling at the same time.

But Justin just skipped past her to reach the refrigerator and jerk the door open. Then he turned around and faced her with happiness in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter who said it. What does it mean? I think I know, but I want to be sure.”

Claudia had always tried to tell Justin the truth, except where it concerned everything about Peter, but she was well aware this was going to be a tough conversation to have. “Sit down, honey.” She patted a cushion-covered chair that matched the dining table and waited for him to plop down. His reaction was very weird, and she didn’t know whether to look for him to explode or to really assume he was as happy as he appeared to be.

She wished Zoe wasn’t downstairs helping out with May right now. She could use some backup. She dragged her thoughts together and picked her words carefully. Praying she would find the right ones to explain such a hurtful word. “Justin, a bastard is one of those words that we don’t say in this house. If you don’t know what it means, then why are you so freaking happy?”

“Because if it’s true, then I can say it all I want.” His grin nearly split his face. “I have to be who I am, after all.”

She wanted to thunk her head on the table. He was way too smart for her liking. He was killing her. And she was trying really hard not to laugh. How on earth did she manage to raise someone who could play her like this? And didn’t it just suck to have her own words thrown back in her teeth?

He seemed to puff up his chest. Claudia felt a bubble of laughter try to escape her throat, while twisting mirth clenched in her stomach. She tried to explain as carefully as she could, without snorting or yelling at him, that it wasn’t really appropriate. “A bastard,” she said quietly, “technically, is a child who is born outside of a marriage. But the word doesn’t mean the same thing today as it did when it was originally used. The kids who said it are probably just being mean. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but today that word is generally used as a swear word. Not in the literal sense.”

“So, it’s true then. I am a bastard, even if it’s just technically.” He tapped the top of the table, bouncing in his chair and causing the legs to screech on the gray tile. More screeching as he knocked the chair back with his knees. Standing with his hands fisted in the air, he whooped around in the kitchen like a clown capering in a circus. He was the very picture of glee and merriment.

“No, Justin,” she pleaded, clenching a fist to her stomach, not sure she’d be able to hold it in much longer. She reached out her other hand to snag him on his next circuit around the table, a touch to let him know that she loved him, and he sidestepped her outstretched hand before it could make contact. She let it drop silently to settle in her lap, willing away the hurt that his avoidance caused in her heart. And the completely inappropriate feeling of laughter still sitting in her stomach. “What happened before you were born was none of your fault. Just don’t listen to the other kids. And I don’t want you saying it, even if it is what you are. It’s not funny.”

His mood changed instantly like a switch had been flipped. “You can’t tell me. You’re not a bastard. I am. And I say I should be proud of it.” Defiance shot from him like shards of glass aimed directly at Claudia’s heart.

They hit their mark. All the laughter in her belly turned to lead. She tried to temper her voice, but it still came out harsh. She shook her head. It wasn’t that big a deal, but she really didn’t want him running around calling himself a bastard any more than she had wanted him calling Peter a sperm donor. “Stop saying that word. I told you we don’t use it in this house, and I expect you to abide by my rules.” Heat rose in her cheeks and burned behind her eyes.

“You didn’t abide by any rules!” he shouted. “It’s all your fault. Why couldn’t I have been born normal, like every other kid?” And then Justin whirled on the heel of his white tennis shoe and dashed out of the kitchen.

Without any warning, she broke. “I tried,” she sobbed to the empty room. “I tried.” She laid her head on her crossed arms atop the table.

And she continued to weep silently, the tension coiled in her body, while she listened to Justin stomp his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room.

After several long moments, the silence in the house was overwhelming, so she went to the refrigerator and returned to sit at the round oak table again, this time contemplating a glass of wine instead of the falling darkness, as she had before. Wondering for the thousandth time what the heck had happened to her well-ordered life. And, more importantly, what was she going to do to fix it?

“Mom,” Justin yelled. “Phone’s for you!”