Fake It Till You Bake It(73)

“I mean yeah.” Her lips stretched into a teasing grin. “What else am I supposed to be thinking about?”

“What about this?” He tugged her upward and did his best to push all rational thought out of her mind. He started by teasing her lips, keeping the kiss light until she murmured her disappointment, then he gave her what she wanted. What they both wanted. It was the furthest thing from a hardship. Jada tasted like sunshine, like everything he could ever want and more. What he would never get enough of. He wanted to offer her the same pleasure. When he leaned away, she was panting with a dazed expression on her face.

He knew the grin on his face screamed arrogance. He didn’t care.

She did because her eyes narrowed. Jada sniffed. “So you can kiss. In the words of the inimitable Shania Twain, that don’t impress me much.”

His lips twitched. “Shania Twain? Really?”

She slapped him on the arm. “Yes, really. She’s a legend. Get into it.”

He side-eyed her. “If you say so. If my kissing skills don’t impress you, then what will?”

She considered the question for a second. “Food. I seem to have built up quite an appetite.”

“You have, huh? Then let’s get you some food. Dessert work for you?”

“Absolutely, but first this.” She captured his lips with hers and gave as good as she got, deftly exploring his mouth with considerable skill, her lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him out of his mind. He was panting for breath when the kiss ended.

“You all right?” she asked, arching those perfect eyebrows, her tempting lips curved into a knowing grin.

“Never better.” He climbed out of the bed and stood on legs that weren’t quite steady. He grabbed some sweatpants off a chair and stepped into them. “Will a T-shirt work for you?”

“Yes, please.”

He retrieved two from his walk-in closet and returned to his bedroom. “Here you go.”

He struggled not to roar like a Neanderthal when she raised the Knights shirt to her nose and inhaled. He smiled to himself at her little grumble when he donned his shirt.

When they entered the kitchen, Jada clasped her hands together. “What do you have? A cheesecake? Dutch chocolate cake?”

“Nothing.”

Her smile fell. “What do you mean nothing? I thought you had a personal chef.”

“I do, but she doesn’t make desserts. I get enough of that at the store. And I’m not breaking my promise to provide dessert. We’re going to make cupcakes.”

Jada blinked. “Oh, you mean you’re going to make them, and I’m going to watch.”

“Nope. Don’t think I’ve missed you dodging every opportunity to get back into the kitchen at Sugar Blitz.”

“That’s because I was a disaster.”

“You were not a disaster.”

She sent him a get-real look. “We had to start over three times. I kept spilling stuff. You kept glowering. And then I almost blew up the kitchen. Pretty sure that counts as a disaster.”

“Stop. I can’t have someone working for me afraid to step in the kitchen. I’m here to help and guide, not glower.”

Jada sniffed. “Are you capable of not glowering?”

“You’re not distracting me. We’re only going to make a half dozen chocolate cupcakes. Simple. No large mixers. No professional-grade oven.”

“Yeah, you have real bargain-basement equipment here.” She gestured toward the decidedly upscale stainless steel appliances.

Donovan shrugged. “It’s still a simple oven.”

“I don’t cook.” Her pout was adorable. Everything about her was adorable. He was in so much fucking trouble, and he didn’t give a damn.

“You’re not cooking. You’re baking.” He looped his arms around her waist and peered into her eyes. “In any case, I believe in you.”

“Thanks.” Jada scanned the kitchen with wide eyes, then turned back to him. “Okay, yes. I want to try. Good idea.”

He jerked back in surprise. “Really?”

She squared her shoulders in her very Jada way. “Yes, I’m determined to be a better me and believe in myself more. I even promise not to give you an opportunity to say I tried to burn down your kitchen.”

“Hey, I apologized for that.”

She poked him in the chest. “With Crocs! That’s what you should be apologizing for. Gifting me those fashion abominations.”

“You love those shoes. You’re wearing them right now.” They’d detoured through the living room on the way to the kitchen so she could get them.

Jada stared down at her footwear. “Well, yes, but still.”

He crossed his arms. “But still what?”

Her chin lifted. “But still I have to complain because your head is already big enough.”

“You like my big head.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“Whatever.” She balled her hands into fists, punched the air, and bounced on her toes. “So are we doing this?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What? Boxing?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m ignoring you.”

“You can’t. I have to show you what to do.”