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“I was thinking of ordering my own and joining you for dinner.”
“By all means.” She smiled and raised her glass to him, not even flinching when two young, attractive women sat at the bar and elbowed each other, staring at Quinn.
Friendship was good, dependable and something he’d give her that he’d never give those younger babes. Marie would just concentrate on enjoying it.
Candy carefully spread buttercream frosting onto another cupcake, butt-boogying in time to Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do” blasting from her iPod in its docking station.
She could barely concentrate on what she was doing. Every ten or twenty seconds her body was urging her to break into a giddy dance all around her kitchen, then into the living room, then back. Valentine’s Day was a day away and she was finally dating a man who might enjoy celebrating it with her.
Worse, February was doing one of those spring-is-coming teases, temperatures nearing fifty, sun pouring over the city, snow shrinking and steaming like the Wicked Witch of the West in her final moments.
Who could work under conditions like this? Completely inhumane to expect it. However, Mrs. Abernathy’s party had to go on; she was a good customer who loved to entertain, so Candy would work.
The phone? Candy rushed to turn down the iPod for some quiet. Yes, phone. She shouldn’t answer. She should finish the cupcakes so she could take them to Mrs. Abernathy’s house and make sure everything was in order for tomorrow, even the tacky Cupid costumes.
What if it was Justin?
She ran for the phone, peered at caller ID. Yes! It was him.
Oh, she was weak.
“Hi there.” Her voice sounded bubbly and young.
“You been out running?” His voice was deep and male and sent through her body chills that guaranteed her voice would become even more breathless.
“No, I’m…I ran to get the phone.” She rolled her eyes.
Yeah, for someone who did three miles a day, running several feet would be enough to wind her. “And I’m frantically busy.”
“I can call back if you—”
“No!” She’d been trying to explain the breathlessness, not cut the call short. “It’s fine. I was needing a break.”
“What are you doing?”
“Frosting
cupcakes.”
“Yum. What kind?”
“Chocolate.”
“And the frosting?”
“Buttercream.”
“Mmm. That gives me an idea.”
She sank onto a stool, her body coming alive at his tone.
“What’s that, Justin?”
“Why don’t you come over with your frosting and find out?”
She closed her eyes, imagining him spreading the creamy softness onto her breasts, his warm tongue licking it off. “Oh, my.”
“You’ll
come?”
“Getting close just thinking about it.”
“Same
here.”
“But…” Candy snapped herself briskly out of the daydream. “I can’t.”
“Cold water on my hot fantasy!”
“I know, I’m cruel. I have to get these cupcakes done, then 180
delivered to Mrs. Abernathy, and while I’m there check on the decorations and food and music and…you get the picture.”
“It’s not as much fun as the other picture I was getting.”
“I know.” Candy sighed wistfully.
“Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“Well, sure.” She tried to sound perky and casual. Valentine’s Day. Of course! But how would he want to celebrate?
“Restaurants will be jammed, but we can get takeout, maybe hang out and watch a movie?”
“Sure, that sounds great.” It would be. She’d tell herself that firmly and mean it. Much too soon in their relationship for her to be expecting him to put on the Ritz. He’d said he only did that if he felt love. Hanging out with her was plenty.
Candy was not going to go all spoiled-brat disappointed over this.
“We could watch some classic like…”
In spite of herself, she waited hopefully for a romance title: Sleepless in Seattle? Casablanca? Romeo and Juliet?
“One of the early Star Wars movies.”
Star Wars. Was there any possible way that could be considered romantic?
