Page 3 of Love Unwrapped
Opening the door, she flipped her hair over her shoulders, her challenging gaze cutting right to Blake. His head swung around toward her again. Her training kicked in and she immediately assessed him. He’d grown into a man. She was self-aware enough to admit she’d crushed on him in high school, even if he’d been a huge jerk. Of course, he was still extraordinarily handsome. She suspected that would never change. His biceps were thick with muscle. As he turned her way, he stopped chatting with the group and crossed his brawny arms, letting those muscles bulge. The wariness in his green gaze showed his uncertainty of Andi, no matter how cavalier he acted or how much she wanted to smack that raised eyebrow off his stupid face. She took in those folded arms, noticing the tip of a scar peeking from under the rolled-up sleeve over his bicep. The bulging ripple of muscle had mostly hidden the obviously puckered skin.
She immediately wondered what had happened to him.
No, she didn’t. She didn’t care in the least.
His apron held remnants of flour and dough, as did his jeans. He obviously worked at the bakery, which added to the mystery of why he’d shown up back in this town to begin with. Even her brazen sister hadn’t been back in all these years, though Nat had argued the small town on the outskirts of Sacramento only served to stifle her.
“Hey, I’m Andi.” She stuck out her hand to shake with the two people she didn’t know. “I guess I’m another volunteer for the Christmas Bazaar this weekend.” Andi took the seat next to Bree, who gave her a questioning eye. Of course, Bree wouldn’t understand what had just happened or why she was using the clipped, forceful tone she reserved for the boardroom. She’d never let anyone in enough to catch a glimpse of her past. She winked at Bree before looking directly at Blake. “Sorry I’m a little late. I had trouble finding a parking space. What did I miss?”
She’d get this show on the road and deal with Grams when she had a chance. Grams knew the family’s history with Blake. Why would she do this to her?
Chapter 3
Two of the volunteers flaked within the first hour. Babs had told him not to be surprised. She’d sent four people in case a few disappeared or weren’t super helpful. He grunted as he pulled another tray of cookies from the oven. When she said she guaranteed at least two would stay for the long haul, she’d obviously been talking about her granddaughter and her friend. What was the cagey old woman up to? He shuffled the cookies onto the cooling rack with a scowl, remembering his first interaction with Babs.
She hadn’t pulled any punches with him when she’d solicited donations from his business the previous year. She’d walked right in, grasped his hand in a firm shake, and introduced herself as Nat’s grandmother. Some days ten years felt like a whole lifetime, but in that moment, he’d been that scrawny kid getting ready to ship out for boot camp, a little scared, a lot unsure of what the future held. She’d stared at him as if waiting for his reaction. At his cringe, she’d smiled and pulled him in for a quick hug. He hadn’t even said a word, but when she’d let him go, she’d said, “That’s what I thought. You didn’t even know what you were getting into with my granddaughter, did you?”
A weight he hadn’t know he’d carried all those years had lifted slightly. Then they’d spent an hour talking about how he’d left town, and how the military had given him structure he hadn’t had before. He’d succeeded in the Navy, advanced, and chosen his own path by joining the SEALs. He’d earned a family. Even now, after being out for a little over two years, he and his brothers were still close. They stayed in contact as often as they could.
The potential for running into people from his past life hadn’t been lost on him when he’d chosen to open the bakery in the town where he’d grown up on the outskirts of Sacramento. He certainly hadn’t anticipated a direct attack by Nat’s grandmother within the first two months, but she didn’t blame him for Nat’s issues, which surprised him. She believed him when he told her he’d had no idea Nat had robbed that store until she’d hopped in his car and demanded he drive. No one, not even his own parents, had believed him at the time.
As odd as it seemed, though he’d been all over the world, this town called to him in some weird way. He hadn’t been in contact with his dad in years. His mom was long gone…across the country with some dude she’d hooked up with. Maybe there was some truth in the saying that a person will always be drawn to where they grew up. He had a lot of good years here, the stellar bad year with Nat notwithstanding. Whatever the reason, he was here now.
He shuffled some cooled cookies onto another tray and carried them into the prep room with Andi and Bree. He’d set them up in his cake decorating room. Andi had grumbled at the hair cover, gloves, and apron she’d been required to wear, but had put them on. He had to admit, she looked adorable, like those old shows of Lucy in the chocolate factory. Granted he could have let them just pull back their hair, but he’d still been reeling from her arrival and had felt less than accommodating.
“I have another tray of gingerbread men you can ice. How did the first batch go?” He set the tray on the table near them and walked around to the far end to look at what they’d accomplished.Yikes. These were for Christmas, not Halloween.
“This one looks great. Who did that one?”
Bree beamed at him. “That’s mine. Isn’t he cute?”
“The little green trousers were a nice touch. And this one?” Blake pointed to the demented gingerbread man with one bulging eye and two noses.
Bree giggled then sucked her lip between her teeth to hold back her smile and pointed to Andi.
“So sue me. I volunteered. I never said art was my forte.” Andi’s brow furrowed so far down that she had to give herself a headache. He’d love to walk out and leave them to their own devices, but these were Manly Cakes cookies. He had a standard to keep. He took a deep breath.
“Here. Let me show you. It’s just a few dots and a few squiggles. No real artistic ability required.” Blake ambled over to stand beside her stool. He put on a pair of gloves from the nearby box and set a fresh gingerbread man on the table in front of them.
He ignored her scowl. She hadn’t willingly said two words to him since she’d arrived. He smiled at her to show he meant no harm. He needed her to take this seriously or he’d never make the deadline for the bazaar. Blake wasn’t about to break his promise to Babs…to those underprivileged kids. Not if he could avoid it.
“Steadiness is the key. Once you have that, you can master just about any frosting technique.” With the piping bag, he showed her how to hold the bag to get a steady stream of icing. “Let’s give this one two eyes, a mouth, and three buttons down the front.” After that, he picked up the piping bag with the smaller nozzle. “You can use this one to give him those squiggles on his arms and legs. Use the same pressure and you’ll do fine.” He angled the cookie so she could see exactly what he was doing. “And voila, one gingerbread man, ready to go. Now you give it a try.” He moved the finished cookie to the other tray and gave her a new gingerbread man to ice.
Blake remained hovering over her, but not touching her as she heaved a sigh before picking up the bigger piping bag and squirting out two lopsided eyes.
“No. Like this…” Blake wrapped his arm around her, holding the piping bag with her, so he could show her the pressure she needed to use to get the desired result. When he touched her hand, she stiffened and sucked in a breath. He breathed in her scent and nearly groaned out loud. She smelled amazing. He’d noticed it before over the strong aroma of ginger and molasses that hung in the air. But this close, he could detect hints of…papaya. Maybe it was her shampoo or some type of lotion. It took all his effort not to lean in closer and breath deeper to find the source. But the stiffness of her spine let him know his attention wouldn’t be welcome.
When she finally gave in and let him guide her hand on the bag, he said, “Great. Just like that. A gentle, consistent squeeze.” They finished the cookie, and it didn’t look half bad.
“That looks great, Andi,” Bree said and then groaned, adding, “It’s taking all my will-power not to gobble these little guys up.”
Andi cleared her throat and tilted her head toward him with a back-up gesture. He let go of her hand as if she were a tray he’d grabbed from the oven without his mitts. What was he thinking, holding on to her that way? She hated him and made her animosity quite evident. And here he was getting a hard-on over papaya and proximity. He’d never learn. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on Bree’s statement.
“No eating the merchandise.” He wagged his finger at her. “But it’s about time to take a break. We can grab lunch from the bakery or there are a few food trucks nearby. Whatever you’d like. Then get back to icing these little guys. What do you say?”
“Sounds like a plan!” Bree gave Andi an odd look before she hopped off her stool, removed her gloves, hung the hair cover and apron on the hook by the door, and dashed through the door toward the front of the bakery.
“What was that all about?”
