Bait (Wake, #1)(67)

I opened the door too fast and allowed what little coolness I had, run right out of the room like when I was a child on a hot summer day waiting for my dad to get home.

“Hi.” I laughed and stepped back for him to come in. He grinned and came inside. It was a little awkward, and a lot not awkward at the same time.

“Hi,” he said, but he looked like he was hiding something.

“What's behind your back?”

“Oh, this?” he rhetorically asked as he brought a brown paper sack out between us. I had the urge to grab it. “It's nothing.”

“What is it?” I made a move to steal it, but he saw me and swiped it away.

“Punchy tonight, are we?” He laughed.

“I'm going to punch you, now what's in the bag?” I said as I stealthily began to walk circles around him.

“Well, Audrey was telling Morgan about this place downtown that had the best cheesecake. So...”

“Oh. God. Tell me it's cheesecake.” I'm not a sweets kind of girl, unless you count chocolate, ice cream, and cheesecake. Then I'm a fiend. And if it was the place I was thinking of, then I was going to melt there on the spot.

“It's cheesecake. Well, it's a few cheesecakes actually.” His face remained stoic and demure.

Cheesecakes from downtown that could fit into that little bag? I knew exactly where they were from.

“They're already closed. It's after eight. How did you get them?” I asked. Don't ask me how I know that The Confectional closes at six. It isn't like I'd ever been there a little too late and nearly cried or anything.

“I have connections. And I think I remember a particular day when my favorite girl didn't get her dessert.”

I watched his eyes roll up and to the right. He was adorable in that moment. My heart swelled watching him play with me in real-life, just has he had all these weeks on the phone. It was like getting-paid-on-your-day-off good.

Casey continued, “The menus you ordered from that one place—the Prick Printers, I think you called them—came in all wrong and you said that you should have been an accountant instead. Remember?”

I did remember and more interesting was that he remembered, too.

“I remember. All I wanted was—”

“Quadruple Chocolate,” he interrupted, answering for me. “And I didn't get you one.”

Cruel. It was so cruel to bring up the best, most delicious chocolate heaven for your mouth and not bring one. The Turncoat he was.

“You didn't?”

“Nope.” Then, the most evil grin spread like fire across his face. He was incandescent and ornery. “I got you two.”

I thought I was dreaming. Right here before me was a sinfully sexy man who brought me ecstasy on a platter.

“I think I need to sit down.” I was humoring him and trying to be funny, but in all actuality, the concept of him thinking to bring this made my knees weak.

“Yeah, your nose is looking a little pink.” He laughed, breaking the pretend concerned character he was trying to pull off.

“What did you get for you?” The possibilities were endless.

In a voice almost as rich and smooth as the dessert in the bag, he crooned, “I didn't. I thought it would be more fun to convince you to give me one of yours.”

This man.

Laugher shot out of me, erupted really. He was so serious and trying his best to be debonair. It was too much. Or maybe it was one of those moments where your happiness escapes through your mouth like a bank robber sprinting for a getaway car. And I fell back on the bed in a fit of ridiculous laughter, holding my stomach.

“Oh, that’s good!” I hollered. “You're so full of shit!”

“What?” He looked hurt. “I thought it was a good idea.”

After I sorted myself out and my laughter wound down to simmering giggle, I asked, “So, what on Earth do you think you could possibly do to merit one of those?” In his distraction, Casey deep in thought, I was finally able to snatch the paper sack away from him.

Sweet Jesus. They were really in the bag.

Maybe I wasn't giving him enough credit. I made a snap decision to up the ante. He didn't know how good the Quadruple Chocolate cheesecakes were. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made such an elementary offer.

“Okay, but first you have to take a bite.” His face twisted not understanding what I meant.

“I win already?” he asked.

“No way. Not even close. I want you to know what you’re fighting for.”

“Oh, I know what I'm fighting for.” His words played into my hand, but they hung heavily in the charged air between us. He walked to me on the bed as I unceremoniously unwrapped one of the treats he'd brought.

He could have that one, the one with the piece missing. That was, if he earned it.

With the fork that I found at the bottom of the bag, I sank it deep into the cheesecake. My mouth watered.

“Come here,” I said. He leaned over and put his hands behind his back and opened his mouth wide for a taste.

“Ahhh,” he sang.

Putty. This man was putty.

“Close your eyes.” He followed my instruction well.

As he waited for the chocolate, my body committed a crime. I stole his bite. The forkful of smooth, creamy dessert almost melted on my tongue.