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Instantly, I’m in the zone. Skipping around the kitchen, dropping various ingredients into my bowl, and stirring the contents as I go.
I don't realize that Westin has made our plates, or that he is leaning against the counter watching me, until I’m pouring my muffin mix into the sectioned off pan. I give him a sweet smile and continue my routine.
“You're interesting to watch.” His voice pulls my attention back to his face.
“Am I now?” I snort out a laugh.
“How do you remember everything that goes in there?” He points to the bowl.
“I’ve made the same muffins every Sunday for the last year and a half. After a few times, it kind of sticks.” I shrug, sliding the muffin pan into the oven before turning back to him.
“Your pancakes are getting cold,” he says, turning to retrieve the two plates of pancakes before walking them to the island. “I couldn't find any syrup.” He sets my plate in front of me.
I quickly grab the syrup out of the pantry to my right and rejoin him at the island. I pour syrup over my mountain of pancakes before handing him the bottle. While some pancakes are perfectly round and look delicious, others are broken, misshaped, and a bit lumpy looking. I’m left only to assume that those pancakes were his first attempt.
We make small talk as we eat. Surprisingly, the pancakes taste better than they look and I end up eating way more than I should. After I’m fully stuffed and not able to take another bite, Westin helps me clean up the kitchen.
I hear Kari come through the front door just as I’m pulling my first batch of muffins from the oven.
“Scar. You here, honey?” Her voice echoes through the space, and suddenly the realization that she is going to discover that I’m not alone hits me. I push back the mild panic that shoots through me and look to Westin.
Immediately, I relax. He's leaning against the counter looking through a book I created for customers to place orders out of, acting like he doesn't have a care in the world.
“Yeah, back here,” I holler out, just as she rounds the corner and enters the kitchen.
She smiles at me, but her steps falter the moment she spots Westin.
“Oh. I didn't know you had company.” She gives me a questioning look.
“Yeah. Um—” I stutter. “Kari, this is Westin.” Westin steps up next to me, and I feel stupid for introducing him. Of course she knows who Westin is. “Westin, this is-”
“Aunt Kari,” he finishes my sentence before I have a chance to. “We met the other day. It's nice to see you again.”
“And you.” Her eyes travel over his handsome face, down his perfect body, then back up to his mesmerizing bright blue eyes. “Very nice.” She quickly catches herself. “I mean to see you again.” Her cheeks blush slightly.
I can't stop the laugh that bubbles in my throat.
“Is Maria working today?” I ask, deciding not to let her drown in her embarrassment for too long.
“She is. I have her scheduled today and tomorrow. I thought you could use a break after I practically killed you with the lighthouse cake.”
“Perfect. I’ll finish up the muffins and then if you're good, I’ll come back tomorrow morning and do the morning batch again.”
“No need. Maria knows the recipes. She's no you, but I don't think the customers will notice a huge difference. I'll be here to open. Take the rest of today and tomorrow off. You deserve it,” she says, giving me a look that only I would understand.
“I’ll at least finish this round.” I gesture to the already made muffin batter.
“No need. I may not be a master baker but I think I can put them in the oven and set the timer. Go. Get out of here.” She swipes her hands through the air in a shooing motion.
“Thanks, Kari.” I lean in and give her a swift hug. “You're the best,” I whisper in her ear before releasing her and turning back to Westin. “Come on. You need a serious shower and a washing machine.” I laugh, reaching for his hand.
He takes it, and together we make our way out of the kitchen and back upstairs to my apartment. The moment the door closes behind us, the room feels too small. Before I even have time to process a thing that is happening, Westin spins me around and pins me to the door.
“The entire time we were down there, all I could think about was what this body looks like without clothes.” His voice is low and seductive as he peels my shirt over my head, his hands cupping my breasts through my bra. “What it feels like to be inside you. How warm and tight you are.” He presses into me, the evidence of his arousal blaringly obvious. “I want to feel you, Scarlett,” he whispers against my lips.
I moan against his mouth when he slides his hand inside my pants.
“Tell me you want me,” he growls, pushing his fingers roughly inside of me.
“I want you.” My words are a weak plea.
What else can I say? I do want him. I need him. I need him like my lungs need air to breathe. And while the thought should terrify me, I’m too consumed by his touch to let it linger for long.
He nips at my neck, dropping low enough to tug my pants down before coming back up to reclaim my mouth. I hear the pull of his zipper and the rustle of material before I’m being lifted into the air. My legs wrap around his waist as he pushes me back into the hard wood of the door.
In one swift movement he enters me, and just like last night, the rest of the world fades away.
