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“I know you can.” Bella blushed as a mental image of him kneeling between her legs flashed through her mind’s eye. “But I don’t think any more of that is a good—”
“I don’t mean that way,” he said, sparing her. “I can talk a good game, too, if you’ll let me. Bella, you experienced firsthand what it was like to add a little something extra to what was already a great time. Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
“Of course, but—”
“And would you have enjoyed yourself as much if that batch of peppermint fudge had been made by a company with more experience making latex?” he asked, shuddering at the thought. “Bella, the flavors these guys keep coming up with, I wish you could taste them. Then you’d know that you have to hel
p me. They’re awful, and half of them contain watermelon, despite the fact that I’ve told them a billion times that I hate watermelon.”
“Watermelon flavoring or the taste of actual watermelon?” Bella asked, trying not to laugh at how worked up he was getting.
Surely he couldn’t take sex toys this seriously?
“Are you okay?” she asked a few seconds later. She was worried he might have ruptured something during his previous tirade. He had fallen completely silent, and was staring at her with the strangest look on his face.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he said, not a trace of humor in his tone.
“I’m sure it will pass,” Bella said in a light voice. She couldn’t let herself take Heath too seriously. He was fun and sweet, but she barely knew him.
“Right.” Heath laughed, then took a sip of the milk she’d poured for him. “Did you ever notice how water tastes like milk if you drink it with peanut butter?”
“I have.” Bella laughed, grateful for the opportunity to put the awkward moment behind them.
“Of course you have, because you’re a taste genius. So will you help me?”
“Haven’t you asked other candy makers?” Bella asked, wishing she didn’t have to tell him no again. “There are at least ten other experienced people working in the Kingdom. I know they must have someone on staff who would be willing to help you. I’m flattered that—”
“I don’t want anyone else. I want the best. I want you,” he said, a fire in his eyes that made her feel flushed all over. “My marketing department wants you too, to be honest, but I’d be willing to do a secret consultation thing if you wanted. I don’t want to exploit you. Unless you wanted to be exploited, and in that case you’d get a lot more money.”
“I told you—”
“I know, you’re not about the money,” he said, waving a hand in the air as if to erase his previous comment. “I’m not about money either, in case you couldn’t tell. I’m about being a perfectionist, the best I can be and all that.”
“Your marketing department actually wants me?” Bella asked, brows drawing together. “Don’t they understand what a monster I’ve been made out to be?”
She was a monster in the minds of most people, an aberration who had done the worst possible thing a person could do—hurt a child. It didn’t matter that she’d been cleared of all charges; she was still guilty in the minds of the public.
The plummeting profits of the Quinn Candy Company spoke for themselves.
“They think that your new ‘bad girl’ image will help sales. I don’t agree, just so you know. And I don’t need to help sales. I’ve already doubled my investment and am selling out of cherry-flavored condoms faster than I can make them.” He reached out and took her hand, not saying the words, but letting her know with that simple touch that he believed she was innocent.
“I’m not a bad girl, Heath.” Bella pulled her hand away and took a death grip on her cold glass of milk. His sympathy made her emotional, and the last thing she wanted to do was break down. She’d had enough tears in the past year to last a lifetime. “A bad girl stays out late and parties and snorts pixie dust off the top of a toilet in a dirty public bathroom. She isn’t accused of trying to boil two children to death in a vat of peanut brittle.”
“Bella—”
“And if you’re selling out of cotton candy condoms—”
“Cherry, but I love where your mind’s going with that.”
“If you’re selling out of them, why do you need my help?” she asked. “People obviously don’t mind how they taste.”
“But I mind. I care. I really, really care,” he said, emphasizing each word with a thumb jabbed at his chest. “It’s not even because I want to have the best for myself. I mean, I do want the best. I actually have a bit of a fetish, I think, but I don’t beat myself up about it. It’s not as bad as a shoe fetish and it’s not like King Frederick with the whips and the chains and the ladies in leather corsets. Though I bet you’d look amazing in a leather corset.”
“Heath, what are you saying?” Bella asked, starting to feel swept away in a verbal tornado.
“I’m sorry, I get a little crazy when I’m excited. I usually stand on my head for a little while and it goes away.”
“Then feel free to stand on your head.” Bella stood to clear their dishes.
