Page 192 of Madness & Mayhem


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He moaned.

“I have to get over to the bakery, empty everything from the refrigerators into the van and then drive to The Rex Hotel so I can start working on a very simple yet elegant cake. Did I mention it was a three-day wedding weekend for five hundred people?”

“Christ, woman, you don’t have to sound so damn chipper.” He roused himself and sat up.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting up. Do I have time for a cup of coffee before we hit the road?”

I blinked stupidly. “Well, yeah, but you don’t have to come. I was going to text Duke.”

“That poor bastard has been your living shadow for the past few weeks. I’m back. I’m your shadow now. And your brawn. You need shit carried—I’m your man.”

“But you just got back,” I protested. “Don’t you want to rest?”

“What is rest, Brooklyn? Are you resting? Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Of course I’m taking care of myself,” I said.

“This week is gonna be a lot for you. I want to make sure you’re sleeping well and eating right.”

“I’ve been busy,” I admitted. “But I haven’t been burning the candle at both ends. I promise. I’ve been putting Jazz and Brielle to work, and they’ve proven they’ll be able to handle everything while I’m away. Eddie and Connie are excellent patisserie chefs and will fill the void when I leave.”

He frowned. “What do you mean when you’re away?”

“Maternity leave, Slash. When I take maternity leave.”

“Woman,” he sighed.

“Don’twomanme. It makes me all gooey when you say it like that. And I don’t have time to be gooey. I have to get going.”

Slash launched himself across the bed and grasped my arm. Before I knew it, I was under him.

He slid his hand between us and into my panties. “I’ll forgo the coffee if I can have this.”

I sucked in a breath as his fingers danced across my flesh. “We better make this fast.”

Slash grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“Yep. Think you can rise to the occasion?”

He nudged his erection against me.

“Oh, yeah.” I smiled. “You rose.”

* * *

The kitchen at The Rex Hotel was similar to the one I’d worked at in Manhattan. The layout was a little different, but the appliances that had been installed during the renovation were all the same and I was grateful for the familiarity.

We were a few hours into baking, and Slash was sitting on a stool in the corner, watching us. He was silent, but I felt the weight of his stare. So much so that it grew to be too much, and I felt like I couldn’t do what I needed to do without his ever-watchful gaze.

“Okay, I love you,” I said as I approached him. “But you’re making me nervous.”

“Nervous? Me?”

“This is my domain. I need to be able to do what I do here without interruption.”

“You can’t do that while I’m here?”

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