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She shrugged, trying to play off his words. “I like to make pretty things.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, just have a seat. You’re a guest.” She scraped a large chunk of frosting into a bowl and added food coloring until it had a nice maroon tint. She put her favorite piping topper on a frosting bag and added the maroon frosting and then a big dollop of white.
Nicholas didn’t move to sit down. He just stood beside her, watching in what looked like fascination. She tried not to feel self-conscious as she started crafting her first two-tone rose in the center of the cake, petal by petal.
“That is so cool. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“YouTube is my sensei.”
He laughed. He was standing so close she could feel the warmth coming off him. She had to work to keep her hand steady.
Was he trying to make a move? What must he have thought, her just inviting him over to her house like this? In all the TV she watched and books she read, being invited back to someone’s house usually meant a date was leading to sex. But there hadn’t been a date. Or well, this was the date. But it was the middle of the day, so did that change expectations?
Shit. She’d just screwed up the rose by pressing too hard and squirting too much icing out. She scraped it off with the spatula and tossed it in the trashcan.
“Actually, you could wash those cake pans out,” she said, aware of his every move as she started sculpting a new rose.
He smelled so good. She couldn’t tell if it was cologne or just his soap, but he smelled… manly. She didn’t even know how to describe it. She’d never really thought before about how the way someone smelled could be attractive but damn, she wanted to take a bite out of him.
“Sure,” he said easily, moving away to gather up the cake pans.
She let out a breath of relief even as a small part of her wanted to drag him right back where he’d been standing.
God, this whole having-a-guy-in-her-space thing was doing a number on her head.
Then again, she knew she was a freaking nutjob, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise.
At least she could focus on the roses a little better without him standing so near. They worked in silence for a few minutes.
Nicholas set the last cake pan to dry and then bent over, examining her dripping faucet.
“It’s leaky, I know,” she said. “I keep meaning to get it fixed.” Just add that to the hundred and one things around the house that she kept meaning to get to.
He stood up straight. “I’ve got some tools in my car. I could take care of this in no time.”
“Really?” She stopped frosting and looked over at him.
“Sure. No problem.”
“Wow. That’d be great actually.”
“Be right back.”
Sloane peeked up from her decorating to watch him as he went. Damn, he had one fine ass, too. He sure knew how to wear the hell out of a pair of Levi’s.
A couple minutes later he was back, carrying a toolbox.
“If you need water for anything, grab it now. I’ll need to shut off the valve underneath the sink while I work.”
Sloane thought for a second, then said, “No, I’m good.”
He immediately got to work while she continued with the first cake and moved on to the next. She turned on some music while he worked under the sink since they couldn’t exactly talk with him half-buried in the cabinet. She had no idea if he was any good at plumbing or if he was just one of those guys who thought he was handy, but it was still sexy as hell to see his legs hanging out from under her sink and hearing him banging around down there.
Twenty minutes later he levered himself out from under the cabinets and stood up. “All done. Let’s see if we fixed it or not.”
He flipped the faucet on. It worked but the real test was when he turned it off. Sloane watched for several moments, waiting for the usual drip, drip, drip to start. But it didn’t.
Sloane grinned, genuinely impressed. “Damn. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“I grew up helping around the house. Back home when something broke, you didn’t call the plumber. You fixed it yourself.”
He walked over to look at the cake she was working on. She was using green frosting to create leaves. “That is seriously amazing. It’s almost too pretty to eat.”
She choked on a laugh. The more elaborate and beautiful the cake, the more excited her splosh-loving clients got—and the higher they tipped.
“You wanna learn how?” she asked. There was still plenty of frosting in the maroon and white bag and she had a load of cupcakes to do.
His eyes brightened. “Sure. When I’m in the city, I usually just eat at a diner downstairs from my apartment. But I do have a sweet tooth.”
