He stands abruptly, nearly knocking his stool over but grabbing it before it crashes to the ground. He frantically brings the phone up to his ear. “Reese Carroll.” His eyes drift from the stool to my face, and I see his chest rise with a deep inhale. He mouths “I’ll be right back” and takes quick strides across the kitchen, taking the stairs at a rapid pace.
“Jeez. Must’ve been important,” Brooke jokes, but at her word usage my mind begins to wonder if this urgent matter has anything to do with Bryce. I feel my pulse quicken at the thought but quickly focus on my task. I have two cakes to make, and one can’t even be started until Reese disappears. He can’t see the ingredients I’m using for our wedding cake. It will definitely give away my surprise to him.
I’m slicing the bananas and depositing them into a big mixing bowl when Reese comes running back down the stairs. His heavy footsteps gain my attention, spinning me around. He’s dressed in his work clothes now, wearing one of my favorite gray-plaid ties of his. Hands grab my face and he plants the sweetest, gentlest Reese kiss to my lips, melting me like the caramel sauce I used in the batter.
He pulls away, and I see the sheer thrill pouring out of him, like he’s just won the damn lottery or something. He smiles and I melt further at the sight of my favorite lines next to his eyes. “I need to run to the office.”
“You seem very happy about that.”
He laughs, kissing the corner of my mouth. “I am,” he whispers against me. “Two days, love. Two days and you are mine.”
His words send a chill through me. I’m his already but God, the way he says mine like I’m not even close to being his yet makes my mouth go dry. I watch him walk away with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.
And I know it has nothing to do with going to the office.
32
Luckily with Reese’s swift departure, Brooke and I were able to throw together not only the cake layers for the other wedding but for mine, as well. I had a great time cooking with Brooke, and she seemed to pick up on things like a natural.
I’ve never seen any bit of my best friend in her sister, and I’ve known them both for over ten years. Brooke always seemed so brash and extroverted. She never let you get a word in usually, especially if it contradicted what she was trying to get across. And even though she seemed popular in school, she never had any friends who stuck around. Joey, Juls, and I have been together for as long as I can remember. Yes, there were others who floated in and out of our lives, but the three of us always stayed true to each other. Brooke didn’t seem to have that, not even now. Her closest friend was Juls from what I observed. She and I were always friendly, but this is the most I’ve ever talked to her. And as we spent the afternoon with just the two of us in the kitchen, laughing and talking like we’ve done it for years, I find myself forgetting who I’m with.
I see glimpses of her sister shining through. The way she focuses on her task but still keeps the conversation going, not allowing for a dull moment. The way she reaches over and brushes the flour off my cheek I had absentmindedly smudged on. But most of all, I see it in the way she tears up when she asks me to recount how Reese proposed to me. Juls always has the waterworks on reserve, especially for romantic moments. And Reese’s proposal can never be topped, in my opinion. So even though I spend the afternoon with Brooke Wicks, it feels like Julianna Thomas is standing next to me.
I’m wiping off my worktop after putting away all my baking supplies. Joey and Brooke left a little while ago, and the shop is quiet.
Too quiet for me right now.
I’m antsy, and the anticipation of Reese getting back and hopefully returning with that same smile plastered on his face is making me fidget. I’m trying to stay busy, but I’m certain I’ve wiped down my worktop at least five times now. If it isn’t disinfected at this point, it never will be.
At the sound of the shop door opening, I lift my head and glance through the doorway. Reese comes walking into the kitchen, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm.
I drop the rag on the worktop, spinning around and greeting him with a smile. He’s storming toward me with purpose, determination in each step. I grip the edge of the wood, recognizing the feverish look in his eyes. My lips part, but not to speak because I can’t. Not when I know he’s about to kiss me, and I know that’s what he’s about to do. My mouth becomes parched as he presses his body against mine, his hands flattening on the wood behind me. Boxing me in. Keeping me right where he wants me.
His mouth molds to mine with desperation, rendering me speechless. I tremble against him as his tongue invades my mouth, easily gaining entry. I lift my hands to hold him to me but only get halfway up my body before he grabs my wrists and slams my hands back down on the worktop.
“No, love. It’s your turn not to touch me.”
“What? No, let me touch.”
He shakes his head, releasing my wrists. I keep my hands where he’s put them and watch as he reaches up and undoes his tie.
I know what’s coming. I know I’m about to get my last look before he does whatever the hell he wants with me.
God, how fucking lucky am I?
“Wait,” I plead as he holds his tie between both hands, ready to take away my sight. He tilts his head, waiting for me to speak. I hit him with a smile first, loosening the tightness that’s set in his face. “Tell me what’s going on? What was the phone call about earlier?”