Page 112 of Mr. Fixer Upper
“Whatcha making there, Chef King?” Paige asked, topping of her wine glass and sneaking behind him to fetch a beer for him from the fridge. She twisted the top and set the bottle on the skinny scrap of counter next to him.
“Do me a favor and peel the stickers off of those things,” he said jerking his chin toward the muffin tins peeking out of their own grocery bag.
“You can’t be serious,” Paige demanded, her brain refusing to make sense of what was happening.
“They’re stickers,” he insisted, missing the point. “It’s not that complicated. Get a grip, princess.”
“You’re baking me cupcakes.”
“Yeah, well if you would have bothered to share anything personal at all like the fact that it was your birthday, it would have been a really nice Death by Chocolate cake from the bakery around the corner. But you didn’t, so you have to deal with these. Peel.”
Words failed her. Gannon King was baking her cupcakes on her birthday and yelling at her about it.
She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and laid her forehead against his muscled back. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked gruffly.
Her lips curved. “No.”
“Good, save it for when they’re done and burnt, and you still have to eat them or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
The cupcakes were only a little burnt. But Gannon made up for it with the yellow crown candle he lit and stuck in the chocolate frosting of one. He didn’t sing her “Happy Birthday” which would have only embarrassed them both, but he did demand she make a wish.
And when the second can of chocolate frosting was put to even more decadent use a little later, Paige felt like her wish had come true.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The next morning Paige woke up wrapped in the sanctuary of Gannon’s inked arms to good news.
“What’s that?” Gannon grumbled, squinting at her phone over her shoulder.
Paige held up the phone. “That’s Malia and her doctor. She’s wrapping up her treatments this week. Carina says she’s cautiously optimistic… and she thinks Malia’s doctor is a hottie.”
“Replacing me so soon?” Gannon sighed, burying his face in her neck.
“You’re still the King of Hotness,” Paige promised. She wiggled her butt against him and was rewarded with the prod of his erection.
“Don’t you forget it,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. “Do you keep in touch with a lot of the families from the show?”
“Just a few each season.” Paige sent Carina a reply with several exclamation points. “The Dufours and the Ledlers.”
“From the last show?” Gannon latched on to that. He rolled her onto her back and busied himself raining kisses over her chest and shoulders.
She hissed in a breath when he lazily ran the rough of his tongue over her nipple. “I felt… bad. About leaving before the reveal.” She arched against him, her body awake enough to demand more of the pleasures of the night. “I flew back out in September to see them and got to meet their new daughters.”
Gannon lifted his head. “No shit? Really?”
“Huh?” Paige’s brain was clouded with the heavy fog of lust.
“The adoption? It was finalized?” he prompted. Gannon accented his question with a bite on her shoulder. “Are they using the cribs?”
“Ouch! Yes. I have pictures.” Gannon had designed and built two cribs for the twin girls. Cribs that were at the heart of a happy family. “What time is it?” she frowned.
He picked up her phone and looked at the clock.
“We either have time for showers and breakfast here, but I make shitty eggs and burnt toast, or we can see just how efficient we are between the sheets and grab coffee and breakfast sandwiches to go.”
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They were very efficient it turned out. Efficient enough that Gannon felt like his taste of Paige was more an appetizer than a meal. He’d remedy that tonight after shooting wrapped. He followed Paige into the bathroom and watched her frowning at her tangle of hair.
