Wild Holiday Nights: Holiday Rush / Playing Games / All Night Long

“Because I owe Nathan. He saved my hide a few months ago, and frankly, I wouldn’t even be standing here if it weren’t for him. He asked me to do a simple favor for him, and I agreed. I’d like to keep my promise, even though it’s clear that you’re okay.”

She stared at him for several long moments, her shoulders dropping as she pushed a block of cake across the table, relenting.

“Fine. It’s a deal. You suck, you leave. Wash your hands, put on some gloves and let’s see what you can do.”

2 (#ulink_8903473b-81d1-57ce-9f59-c7f15bc8bfaf)

CALLA WATCHED GIDEON study the block of cake as if wondering where to start. He looked at her drawing, her cake plans, and then at the bells she’d done already. He didn’t say a word.

Ever since she’d met him on the sidewalk, her heart hadn’t settled down for a second. He had beautiful hands. Rough from the carpentry work that he did off hours, but nicely shaped. Masculine. They seemed too large for the delicate block of cake, but he was gentle, too.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

She hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again. They’d shared a kiss eight years ago. She’d still been a virgin then, and she’d wanted more, but he’d backed off.

She’d only met one guy she liked in culinary school—Max—and she’d thought he’d be the one, but he had run as fast as he could in the opposite direction when he’d found out about her untouched status. He’d said he couldn’t take that responsibility.

She’d been home for a month that summer with one goal on her mind—to change that status before she went back to the city. Gideon had appeared to be an excellent solution to her situation. They’d had sparks from the moment they’d met, and she’d wanted him. That had been new to her, too.

She’d walked with him across the field down by the old barns under the auspices of showing him around the ranch. She’d assumed they were on the same page—that he wanted the same thing she did. She’d known he was attracted to her. She’d been experienced enough to know that—and to try to take advantage of it.

When he’d kissed her, she’d known she’d made the right choice. His lips had melted her like candle wax at the first touch. His hands on her back, where he’d dragged his fingers back and forth along the skin under the band of her jeans, had set her on fire for the first time ever.

How could she ever forget those hands?

He could’ve had her right there and then, and oh, she had wanted him to do just that. But he’d stopped, made some vague excuse about it not being the right time or place and kissed her once more, lightly, before he’d walked back to the party. Alone.

Twice rejected, still a virgin. What Gideon had done was even worse than what Max had done. She’d been willing, warmed up and ready. She’d wanted him. She’d chosen him. It had been her first real attempt at seduction.

And he’d walked away.

It had taken awhile for the bruise on her ego to heal, and eventually she’d even had to give Gideon credit for doing the right thing. Kind of.

He’d been a few years older, wiser, and he was her brother’s friend. His reasons were better than Max’s, or at least nobler. Still, at the time it had hurt, and she didn’t forget that either.

Now here he was, sitting in her bakery, holding cake in his hands as if it was a slab of wood, peeling off some delicate edges, thinly sliced, as he eased his way into the block.

She went to her drawer, grabbed another knife and some cake from the freezer and started another bell. She really didn’t have any time to waste, since now she’d have to fix or redo whatever mess Gideon made. But if this little deal sent him on his way, it was worth it. He was far too distracting.

She started carving, silently inventing ways to kill her brother Nathan the next time she saw him. She was going to give her older brother an earful for dragging her into whatever was between the two men.

“There. How’s that so far?”

Calla had been so lost in her ruminations that she wasn’t paying attention to the minutes ticking by. Gideon’s question shook her out of her trance to find him holding half of a perfectly shaped bell in his hand. He’d managed to get that far in the same time that she had barely made a dent.

“It’s...great.”

It was better than great. It was easily as good as hers.

“Don’t sound so glum about it.”

“I guess I should have studied carpentry instead of pastry,” she muttered, knowing she was being a bad sport.

His bell might actually be better than hers, with a few little flourishes that she approved of. There was even a small smattering of applause outside the window as onlookers approved of his effort. She’d reopened the window not to embarrass him on purpose, but because she did so on a schedule, when the most people were walking by at intervals during the day.

A few more than usual were here this afternoon. Drawn in by her new helper? A number of them were female.

“So I get to stay and help you out?”

She frowned. “Looks like.”

Then he put his cake and knife down and reached across the table to put his hand over hers.

Ay caramba.

Calla was pretty sure her entire body sizzled at the touch. Just like it had years ago.

She drew her hand away, self-conscious with people watching.

“Calla, listen, if you really want me to leave, I will. Would you mind, though, if I stop by the station and check in on their progress finding your attacker? And maybe let me take you to dinner tonight? I can’t go back until tomorrow anyway.”

Damn, he was being so nice. Calla knew she was being unreasonable.

“I’m sorry, I just... It’s family stuff. I’m mad at Nathan, and at life, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked gently.

Calla let out a breath she was holding. He was being so nice. She ended up telling him about the financial trouble the shop was in, her guilt about not going home and just about everything else.

“So you see, I shouldn’t go to dinner, but it’s not about you. I have to keep working on this,” she finished. She didn’t sound very convincing, though, even to herself. “I have to do whatever it takes to keep this place going.”

“Well, you have to eat.”

“Gideon—”

“Why don’t you let me help you at least finish the bells? Then we can see?”

Calla considered. Why was she being so stubborn about this?

“I...guess. I mean, if you really want to, I wouldn’t say no. They seem to like you.”

She looked out at the crowd—noticing the appreciative looks several women closer to the window were giving Gideon.

“I’d better bring out some samples.”

“I can do it, if you like.”

“Um, sure.”