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“Well, since Liam hasn’t been taking care of home…” Ainslee hugs Oran which causes him to laugh in surprise. “Very nice, Superman.”
Ainslee moves when Jagger gives her the evil eye, but she smiles wi
th a mischievous spirit. “You two go away so you can’t see me make the cake. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
Oran wraps his arm around my shoulder and ushers me away just as I hear Jagger grumble something right before Ainslee squeals.
Chapter 29
Oran
This is war! My eyes haven’t left Karessa’s cut off, ripped blue jean shorts wearing ass since she came downstairs. She knows what she’s doing. I see my princess is also competitive. She’s not the only one capable of teasing. Sliding behind her. I squeeze her waist and whisper in her ear so only she can hear.
“The last time you wore little shorts in the kitchen, I ate you like my meal.”
I retreat with a quick ass squeeze. My mission was successful, she’s staring at me instead of mixing her batter. When she resumes, she forgets to oil her pans.
Sucker.
I almost feel bad when her top layer crumbles, and I almost told her she put twice the amount of raspberry necessary. I hold my tongue when she applies the cream cheese frosting while the cake is still warm. She must have heard my chuckle because now that it’s time to make the blue and orange fondant flowers for the finishing decorations, my fondant cutters are nowhere to be found.
If I don’t incorporate all the aspects of Ainslee’s design before the time runs out, I can be either disqualified or lose major points. Improvising, I grab a knife to free hand cut. The flowers look terrible, and the look on Ainslee’s face isn’t helping.
“I know what you did, Trophy.”
Karessa’s laugh is sultry as she lies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hell.”
“That’s fine, let your flowers be the only enjoyable thing about your cake.”
Jagger chuckles from somewhere in the kitchen. “Burn.”
I get the last miss formed flower on the cake just as one of Ainslee’s men yells time.
Ainslee films the cakes while giggling because neither look professional. Even with the messed up flowers, mine still looks like a cake in the proper shape while Karessa’s look like a sunken dome.
We have to cut six slices for the judges, Ainslee, and Jagger. Mine look like slices and Karessa’s slices keep falling apart. Raspberry filling oozes out of her cake, looking like a pastry murder.
“Did you make cornbread?” I tease, pulling her close.
“Shut up. I don’t want your hugs with your overly competitive ass.”
Something on her apron pokes me, and I fish it out of her pocket against her protests.
“Says the person who stole my fondant cutters. Cheater.”
“I wasn’t cheating. Just leveling the playing field.”
I throw my head back and laugh. I didn’t think she had it in her. “My. My. Mrs. Hale, you’ve been up to no good.”
“I’ve been corrupted,” she challenges with laughter in her eyes.
I kiss her forehead, her nose, then her lips. “I haven’t even begun corrupting you.”
Flashes of light, pulls my attention away from my sore loser wife. Ainslee is there smiling with her camera.
“You too are so cute.”
Releasing Karessa, I turn to Ainslee. “Don’t make me ill. Cute?”
