Cake to the Attic

Thomas hovers by a cake that’s fudge smothered and chocolate chunk covered. He looks over both his shoulders. As if anybody would guard the cake at a party only rich people would think up—a closing celebration at a bridal party retreat.

No, it’s not the wedding. I’m wedding planner extraordinaire, but I’m not on the clock. The intensely gorgeous, maid of honor Becca, is in charge tonight.

“Nobody’s watching,” I say.

He puts a finger over his mischievous grin.

Thomas begins daintily slicing the cake. Chocolate was my request, and he’s obliging.

“Come on, I’m hungry. Nobody—”

“Hey!” A woman shouts. “You can’t do that.”

My eyes dart around, searching the outdoor space overtaken by Champagne colored decor. The woman storms toward us at an alarming rate.

My heart leaps to a gallop. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”

Thomas abandons his cutting and grabs the entire chocolate cake, swiping forks as he flees.

“Come on,” he says, his adorable English accent encouraging me to follow.

We weave through the rose gardens and slip inside the mansion the bride calls a quaint B&B.

“There.” Thomas gestures to a narrow staircase.

Ducking under the blockade, we tiptoe up the stairs. We burst into laughter at the top. It’s the dark, dusty attic. Our pursuer won’t search for guests here. Not even the cake stealing kind.

Thomas hands me our loot and disappears behind a tower of totes. I stare at the chocolatey goodness. He’s lost his mind, leaving me like this.

I shove cake in my mouth as Thomas calls, “Over here!” from the attic depths.

I sneak another bite, following his voice to a bistro set near a window.

“Thanks for scouting,” I say, cheeks burning as I take a seat.

“What are fake boyfriends for?” He chides, sliding into the chair next to mine.

Thomas reaches for his fork, but I grab it, playing keep away.

“Oh, bugger off,” he grumbles, stretching for it.

A spark of competitive determination flashes across his eyes, so I relinquish the fork. The last time we competed, I lost coffee. I won’t lose cake.

“So good,” he says through his first bite of cake.

I look around our hidden corner. This is where things come to be forgotten, so they can be remembered with fondness later.

Sadness fills my chest that I can no longer ignore.

“Becca’s falling for you,” I say, staring out the dirty window.

He nods.

I take another bite, hoping it’ll mask this unwelcome ache.

“Is it hard watching Jason down there with Lisle?” Thomas breaks through my thoughts.

Jason…the man who started this fiasco. I thought I was in love with Jason, but he was engaged, and his fiancé booked their wedding at my venue. To prevent Lisle from finding out Jason was cheating, Thomas stepped in, and the fake dating commenced. We kept it up to save my dying wedding business; and to get Thomas the girl of his dreams—Becca.

“No,” I say, genuinely. “I’m good without him. No offense to his bestie.”

“None taken.” Thomas leans over, our shoulders bumping. “You boosted your business this week, though. And if you stock up on Champagne colored everything…”

“So, you did notice!” I slap his arm, ignoring his champagne drenched insinuation.

Thomas chuckles. “I noticed. But you’re Captain Obvious about it.”

“She won’t commit cake theft with you, though.” I nudge him with my elbow.

“Probably for the best,” he says. “Don’t think she eats cake.”

“Yeah. She’s probably more of a champagne bandit.”

He slides down in his seat. The sunlight catches his curls. He’s quite a sight, slouching in his expensive navy suit, with chocolate on his lips.

My kind of man.

Except…he’s not mine. We have rules. Five rules for fake dating.

Not a rule—falling for him. But I’m supposed to know better, rule or no.

And yet…

He wraps his arm around me and pulls me to his side.

The smart thing would be to reject his affectionate touch and the scent of his sandalwood aftershave. But I’m not smart—nor do I want to be.

I’ve been tucked under his arm as his faux girlfriend all week. At some point, the lines of pretend blurred.

Now—in this attic—I’m experiencing every emotion I’ve never wanted.

I thought I loved Jason, and ‘convinced’ myself it was lust so I wouldn’t have to feel. But I wasn’t in love with Jason.

I only know this now, because…this is love. When it’s love, you can’t stop feeling. And it’s killing me.

“Thank you for forcing me to come this week,” I whisper.

“Thanks for committing grand theft cake with me,” Thomas says, his lips to my head.

“Should we go back?” I ask, hoping he says yes. Needing him to say no.

“Not yet.”

Thomas pulls my chin gently, until I’m gazing into his baby browns. He leans close, stopping inches from my lips, as if someone’s pressed pause.

“What?” I question, my body thrumming with desire and anticipation.

“Nobody’s watching.” His breath zings my lips, and his words stab my heart. “The rules. Number three—We’re all about PDA, but in private—”

“We loop back to rule number one,” I say, my words heavy.

“No hookups…”

“Right.”

“With other people…”

The laws of attraction pull us closer. My lips graze his, teasing him as he’s been teasing me. I run my tongue where his lips meet and catch his bottom lip with my teeth.

Thomas threads his fingers into my hair and pulls me into a deep kiss.

We’re at the end of our charade. Becca’s within his grasp, and my business will live another day.

And yet…

In this passion drenched—soaking wet, might as well jump in—moment, I’d dismantle my business, find my employees new jobs, file bankruptcy…

I’d do anything to stay here with goofy, too competitive, insanely loyal, Thomas.

And with the fiery adoration igniting between us, I’m certain he feels the same.