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ZACH
“What are you still doing here? I thought it was done.” I enter the kitchen and find Hope staring at the cake placed on our kitchen counter.
“It was, but I think it’s missing something.” She bites her bottom lip as her eyebrows furrow as if there’s a huge puzzle to solve.
“It’s not missing anything. Why are you so paranoid about this?” Today is Rose’s birthday and Hope has prepared the most beautiful cake I have ever seen. In fact, she has been making these incredible cakes for days. Ray and I have taken the role of lab rats, happily tasting the different flavors she is playing with.
“I don’t know, Zach. I want it to be the best.” She picks up her piping bag and starts looking for flaws that aren’t there.
Hope is a perfectionist when it comes to baking and her passion for her work is reflected in the sales of Cakes for All. When I bought the bakery from Cole Durant, I tried to make Hope the owner.
But of course, she fought tooth and nail with me, giving me a bullshit excuse that she has no clue about running a business. She doesn’t know that her passion for baking and the good atmosphere at the bakery in the past month has led to more sales than in years. Finally, I had to cave in and agree that she will still be paid a monthly salary and doesn’t have to get involved in understanding the finances.
“Itisthe best, babe.” I pull the piping bag away from her and place it on the counter.
“I just want her to like it.” Hope rubs the back of her neck, and I can hear her unspoken words. What she really wants is for Rose to like her.
I grab her shoulders and gently push her out of the kitchen. “Get ready or Rose won’t be able to cut her birthday cake.” That does the trick, and she darts toward our bedroom.
I enter Ray’s room to check that he’s ready and notice a handmade birthday card.
“You made a card?” I pick up the purple folded paper and on the front is a dried rose that Ray has taped with too much transparent tape. I look inside and read our names written in broken letters.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AUNT ROSE
FROM,
DAD, MOM, RAY, AND MR. STANLEY.
“It is very pretty, kiddo. Let’s put it along with her gift.” I carry him to the living room and place his card beside the gift wrapped in pink pastel paper. My chest tightens at the sight of it all. I never thought I’d ever gift someone something other than a gift card. And even when Ray’s handmade thoughtful card will probably ruin my cool reputation, I think this might be one of the prettiest things Rose will receive today.
Talking about pretty, Hope walks into the living room. For a moment I’m rendered speechless, and my heart jumps into my throat.
“What? Is this too much?” She looks down at the red lace dress fitting her like a glove.
Out of her mom jeans and baggy T-shirts and with the perfect amount of makeup, this version of Hope looks…something else.
She is sexy and classy.
Her dress reaches just below her knees. My pulse skyrockets at the sight of so much of her bare skin. It’s an off-shoulder dress with two red straps lying on her forearms and she unsuccessfully tries to pull them up. The neck is deep. Her cleavage, God, how didn’t I notice it before? I gulp as my gaze stays on her full breasts for a second longer. The red heels complete her hot look.
My wife looks fucking ravishing!
“Zach?” She self-consciously moves one leg in front of the other and damn what a pose it is.
“You…you look—”
“Ma, you look so pretty.” Ray’s giggles interrupt me and that’s good because I was gonna say steaming hot, butprettyis much better.
“Yes, you look…pretty.” I clear my throat. “Very pretty.”
“Kristy decided on a color scheme yesterday. This is the reason I asked you to put on a red tie.” Her eyes don’t meet mine as she clumsily waves toward my tie. “She didn’t tell me until this morning that she was sending a dress for me. I had no way of saying no.” She shifts from one foot to another.
But damn, she doesn’t know I don’t need any reason. I just need to keep my head straight and not do or say anything stupid, giving in to the temptation that my wife is today.
William drivesthe SUV with Ray in his booster seat. Unlike all other days, he insisted on sitting by the window and that’s how Hope ended up next to me, her bare legs every so often brushing against my pants.
It’s a fucking ordeal to keep my wandering eyes off her. I try to think about anything but her scarlet face and neck as they turn almost as red as the dress. My hands itch to find where else she is blushing. I curl my fists tight, nails digging in my palms to keep myself aware of the reality and not think about foolish things, like ravishing her in the back of my car.
