Page 40 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
Daisy was like some kind of bagel gladiator, chopping, slinging, and gliding her way through the kitchen like she was grand champion. Lean muscles rippling, she whisked a perfect roux, kneaded a tough-looking glob of dough, and retrieved a pan from the oven in the space of a minute with expert precision.
All while wearing nothing but a gray cotton bralette and matching bikini bottoms. Her short hair was pulled up into a top tail that stuck up like a horn, with some spilling out in a spiky mane around her face. A face that was drawn tight with concentration, focused and set with self-assurance that was sodamnsexy.
Holy bread babe,Candace thought. She watched, slack-jawed and embarrassed by the needful pulse between her legs.
Then, by being caught.
Daisy saw Candace. Her curse was muted, but the crash of her dropping the pan she held was thunderous. An avalanche of bagels spilled all over the floor.
After a stunned moment, Candace snapped from her stupor. Thankfully, the sliding door was unlatched. She rushed through, greeted by Daisy’s yelling.
“The FUCK, Perry?!”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!! Shoot—!”
Candace scrambled to join Daisy picking up bagels and forgot about the coffee caddy she was holding. She caught the tipping cups right as they were about to slosh hot liquid all over herself and the classic black and white linoleum floor. Setting it aside, she did her best to corral the rolling balls while Daisy continued railing at her.
“Candace! What the hell are you doing? Why are you in my house?!”
“I promised I would help! I thought you might need an extrapair of hands for bagel prep, and—Oh…!”
Candace’s attention shot from the bagels to Daisy, who was still half-naked. And, now, that nakedness was alotcloser. After she turned off the stove burners and muted the TV, she moved to tower over Candace. Once again, the woman was an imposing gladiator with her arms crossed beneath her bralette.
Candace could not help noticing the way her piqued nipples poked through the sheer material, or the under-view of soft swells from the slightly-too-small garment. Her gaze plunged lower, past abs that her fingers wanted to spend days climbing, before settling on the valley between Daisy’s thighs. They were parted by her strong stance, just enough that Candace could see a few ghosting curls and the barest definition of her—
All at once, Candace realized how much of a creep she was being. She covered her eyes and blurted out another emphatic “Sorry!”
Long, agonizing seconds passed. Candace’s entire body radiated so hot she thought she might burn a hole through the floor. She could not see Daisy’s face, but eventually heard her snort. There was the sound of movement, and she felt Daisy’s soft mouth press against her ear. A shiver coursed down her spine as the woman spoke in a hot, heavy puff of breath.
“Out.”
Startled, Candace fell back onto her butt with a yip. She found Daisy’s face once more to discover a wry expression. Her tone was a mix of exasperation and smugness.
“You really are something else, you know that? Let’s try this again.”
“W-what?”
“Get out and go knock at the front door like a normal, not privileged princess. I’ll put some clothes on. If you’re going to help, I can’t have you drooling like an idiot the entire time.”
A few minutes later, Daisy let Candace into her home through the proper entryway. She wore a fresh pair of navy blue joggers and a black T-shirt. It was not much more than her usual tank top and shorts, but it seemed like a pointed shift.
Candace felt like she’d been caught with a hand in a cookie jar… A tall, tanned jar that she’d love to lick the inside clean and—
Clearing her throat along with the lecherous thoughts, Candace coughed out a good morning.
One of Daisy’s dirty blonde brows cocked as she surveyed Candace. She took a sip of coffee—the coffee Candace had brought—and stepped back.
“Mm-hm. Good morning for Peeping Toms.”
“I tried knocking! You didn’t hear me over Homer Simpson.”
The dubiousness of Daisy’s expression was broken by her smirk. She apparently liked to see Candace squirm, which was a frustrating find. At least she was not angry. Daisy led Candace to the kitchen.
Like other bay cottages, it was not a large space. They passed a narrow stairway that appeared to lead to a single room upstairs, and a short hallway with two ajar doors. She got a peek of a retro pink tile bathroom and a bedroom strewn with clothes. When Daisy saw Candace’s eyes linger on her bedroom, she shut it from view.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” Daisy grumbled.
“It’s homey. And I guarantee my place at the Comfort Clam is no showroom.”
