Page 39 of Always the Baker

Brax growled and smacked my ass before gripping it as he came… while I did the same. I fell onto the bed and tried to regulate my breathing. Once I was composed, I stood and headed to the bathroom. We decided to hop in the shower again, which led to him delivering slow strokes as he held me against the stone wall. Our lips remained connected through moans and muttered curses because his kisses were too good to deny myself of. After that, we showered and promised to stay away from each other until we were fully dressed and out of the door.

I was baskingin the afterglow of an amazing evening of lounge hopping and dinner with Brax when he hit me with a curveball.

“So, Billie, I’d love to see this mural project you’ve been working on,” he said, flashing that heart-stopping smile of his.

My stomach dropped. “Oh, um, the mural?” I repeated, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “It’s not really ready for visitors yet. Still a work in progress.”

Brax leaned in. “I don’t mind if it’s not finished. I’d love to see your artistic process.”

I fidgeted with my napkin, avoiding his gaze. “It’s a bit of a mess right now. Paint everywhere, sketches all over the place. Not exactly presentable.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” Brax chuckled. “I love seeing creative chaos. You should see me when I’m writing songs.”

My mind raced, trying to figure out how to get out of this without admitting the truth. I couldn’t let him see my nonexistent mural project. He’d realize I was just a nobody pretending to be an artist in the big city.

“Maybe another time?” I suggested weakly, hating the disappointment that flashed across his face.

“Sure, no pressure,” Brax said, but I could tell he was confused by my reluctance.

I felt awful. Here was this amazing guy, genuinely interested in my work, and I was lying to his face. But what choice did I have? The truth would shatter this magical getaway faster than you could say fraud.

“I’m just particular about who sees my work before it’s done. Artist quirk, I guess.”

Brax nodded, seeming to accept that more. “I get it. We musicians can be the same way about our unfinished songs.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his understanding. But the guilt still gnawed at me. How long could I keep up this charade?

As we left the restaurant, I thought the conversation was over… but he started up again. It was like he knew I was hiding something and wanted to watch me break. “Okay, that’s a no on the mural, but you do have a studio at least, don’t you, Bill? I really want to see some of your work… Get a glimpse of your artistic process. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

My heart raced. I couldn’t let him see a studio that didn’t exist. I bit my lip, desperately searching for a way out. Suddenly, an idea hit me.

“I can show you some stuff on my phone, but you know what? I’ve got a better idea. There’s this amazing little jazz club downtown. Why don’t we check that out instead? It’s way more exciting than my messy studio.”

Brax raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “A jazz club, huh? Didn’t peg you for a jazz fan.”

I laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as nervous as I felt. “Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, pooh. I’m full of surprises.”

“Aight, Hopkins. Lead the way. I’m curious to see what other hidden talents and interests you’ve got, mystery girl.”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and guilt. I’d dodged a bullet, but for how long? This whole trip was turning into one big lie, and I was starting to wonder if it was worth it. But then Brax smiled at me, and I pushed those thoughts aside. One more night of pretend, that’s all I needed.

Brax drove tonight, so I put the address in his phone and the ride was silent. The jazz club was dimly lit and packed with people. The air was thick with sensual expectations and the sound of a smooth saxophone. I tried to act cool and casual, but my heart was pounding so hard I was sure Brax could hear it over the music.

“This place is great.” Brax leaned in close, his breath warm on my ear. “Good call, sweetheart.”

I nodded and smiled. Every time someone looked our way, I tensed up, certain they’d recognize Brax and start asking questions I couldn’t answer.

“You okay?” Brax frowned, noticing my discomfort. “You seem a little jumpy.”

“Me? Jumpy? Nah, I’m just excited to be here with you. Maybe it’s excitement that’s making me come off a little anxious.”

He grinned, and I felt a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with nerves. “Well then, how about a dance?”

Before I could protest, Brax was leading me onto the crowded dance floor. Being in his arms was my second favorite position. Having him between my legs was the first. The band struck up a slower number, and suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me close.

As we swayed to the music, everything else faded away. The worry, the lies, the constant fear of being found out… it all disappeared. There was just Brax, his strong arms around me, his eyes locked on mine.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, spinning me gently.

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