Page 41 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

“Show me the kitchen.”

Pressing a quick smooch on my lips, he takes my hand, leading the way. As we pass Hilda, he proudly informs her, “Found our little savior.”

Confusion dots Hilda’s cute face. So, I explain, “I’m a pastry chef.”

“Oh, thank God! That’s so wonderful and such a relief to hear, Miss Twinkle,” she exclaims. “I’ll let the guests know there’s a slight delay. You can take your time.”

“Can you give me a number on how many guests there are? I’ll prepare the batch accordingly.”

“You don’t need to cook for everyone, Twinkle,” cuts in Kingston. “Whatever you can manage will be more than enough.”

“Still?”

“Twenty to twenty-five people,” answers Hilda.

“I can easily do that.”

“Let the others know how they can help you,” commands Kingston, as we near the kitchen down the short hallway behind the desk in the lobby. “Give them a list of all the ingredients and utensils you need.”

“Where will you be?”

“Right beside you.”

“You’ll get bored,” I caution. “You must have other important stuff to do. I’ll be fine.”

“How about you let me decide what’ll make me bored, hmm?” Grabbing my throat and caging me against the wall in the empty hallway, he rasps, “A hint, it could never be you.”

Again, nothing but honesty pours off him.

“Keep saying things like that and I might jump your bones right here and now.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised since the thought of getting caught excites you.”

Trailing my hand down his chest, I graze the intimidating bulge beneath his pants until he jerks. I flutter my lashes and taunt sweetly, “I think it excites you too.”

“Stop giving me a hard-on around my staff,” he grunts, biting down on my lip harshly. Yet, he makes no move to remove my hand.

Who am I to deny the invitation? I cup him harder, hiding the desire and fear of his size, and rub his hardening length. I forget why we’re here in the first place and kiss him fervently. Just as he pushes against my grip, I pull back with an innocent expression.

He reaches for me.

I shake my head and click my tongue, while grinning like a fool. “Don’t we have some baking to do?”

“You’re playing with fire, little cocktease,” he warns and tugs me down the hallway.

The door swings open as he pushes it. I stop beside him when he calls everyone’s attention and introduces me. Except one guy, the rest speak English and they all thank me for helping them in this predicament.

It doesn’t take me long to fall into the familiar rhythm of working in a kitchen. I’m in my element. True to his words,Kingston remains by my side. He even helps wherever he can. I swear this man possesses every quality of a wonderful boyfriend. Whoever he marries will be the luckiest girl in the world.

I shove the thought away when a depressing and envious pang stabs me in the heart.

It reminds me of the conversation I need to have with him before we fall into bed with each other. It’s the only way of protecting my heart from becoming addicted to him.

His staff is exceptionally professional and coordinated. Every task I give them, they do it efficiently. I decide to cook pancakes, chocolate brownies, and banana bread. So, even though I’m not baking a large batch, the guests will still have options. I’m just hoping everyone finds them delicious.

Pancakes go out first, followed by brownies, and then the banana bread.

It’s a unique experience working in a professional kitchen with a team. It gives me hope that one day, I might open my own bakery or a small café. The sky’s the limit.

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