Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Zeke

“What is that?”

Cherry opens one bleary eye and stares at the mug in my hand. I managed to talk her into staying the night with me, and I have to admit, I liked it.

“Coffee.”

She frowns and stretches between the sheets, then sighs.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

I scowl down at her. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you.”

Her bee-stung lips tip up in a sleepy smile. “I can’t stand coffee.”

“Like, at all?”

“Nope.”

“Are you an alien?”

“Yep.”

I stare down into the mug, then shrug and take a sip. “More for me, then. How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead. I don’t think I moved all night. I should exercise before bed more often.”

“If I have my say, you will be.” I take another sip and reach out to rub her thigh. “What do you have on the docket today?”

“Making candles,” she replies with a sigh. “I have two hundred to get done for a special order.”

“Holy shit, two hundred candles? On your day off?”

“I don’t have days off, Zeke.” She shakes her head and then ruffles her hair, scratching her scalp. “But that’s okay. I have bills to pay, and this order was huge. In fact, what time is it?”

“Just past eight.”

“I should get home and get started on it. Do you mind if I start a load of laundry on my way out? I never got to it last night.”

I can’t help it. I lean in and kiss her softly. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.” She’s holding the throw against her and just looks at me.

“What?”

“I need you to leave so I can get out of your bed and get dressed.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why do you need me to leave for that?”

“Because I’m naked. ”

I don’t move a fucking muscle. “I hate to break it to you, but I’ve already seen everything you have to offer.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because it was while we had sex.”

Narrowing my eyes, I take another sip of the coffee. “So, if I see you naked when we’re not having sex, that’s not okay?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid. But, yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have time for this conversation.”

She moves to get out of bed, taking the blanket with her, but I quickly set the mug aside and cover her, pinning her beneath me.

“There will never be a day, in this or any other lifetime, that you need to be shy about your body with me, Cherry. Or with anything, for that matter.”

“I’m not shy. ”

She twists her lips together, so I lean in and kiss her once more. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” she whispers as I stand. Then, taking my coffee with me, I leave the bedroom.

The dynamic of our relationship has completely changed in the span of less than a week. Instead of being annoyed by the simple sight of her, or the mention of her name, I suddenly want to be near her constantly.

And the sex? Out of this fucking world.

I’m surprised the smoke alarms didn’t go off.

I’ve just finished my coffee and set the mug in the dishwasher when Cherry walks out of my bedroom and retrieves her basket from where we left it last night, then disappears again down the hall and into the laundry room.

I hear the washer start, and then she’s back, now dressed but her hair still askew.

“What can I have on hand for you for the mornings since you don’t like coffee?”

“Oh, you don’t—”

“Okay, that’s fucking annoying.”

She frowns, and I grab a rag to wipe down the countertop.

“I know I don’t have to do anything . But I want to, and I plan to have more nights with you. You must drink something in the morning. What is it?”

“Green tea,” she says. “With honey.”

“Milk?”

“No, just the honey.”

“I can do that. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Everything with you is hard,” she mumbles and then rolls her eyes when I smile smugly. “Not that , perv.”

“Oh, yeah. That. ” She reaches for the front door. “Stop.”

She turns, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m gonna need a kiss.”

“You’ve had a million of them.”

“One more.”

I lean my hip against the counter, waiting for her to come to me. After just one second of thought, she walks over to me, boosts onto her tiptoes, and puckers up.

I oblige her, leaning down to meet her, pressing my lips to her soft ones. She pulls away quickly to march back to the door.

“See you later,” she says as she opens it.

“Count on it.”

* * * *

“You brought me lunch?”

Five hours later, I’m standing at the threshold of Cherry’s condo, holding a paper bag full of subs and chips. She’s dressed in little shorts, a tank top, and nothing else.

Even her hair is up in a messy bun thing on top of her head, exposing the long line of her neck, and it conjures the need to nibble that irresistible skin.

“You’re a goddamn goddess.”

“Right.” She rolls her eyes, but I also see the faint blush on her cheeks. “Is that lunch?”

“Oh, yeah. Sandwiches. Thought you’d need food by now. And maybe some help, too.”

“Are you the help?”

“I’m the only one standing here.”

“Okay, come in.” She steps back, gesturing for me to come inside, and then closes the door behind me. “I need a quick break anyway.”

“How many have you made so far? I take it the scent of them is lavender, given that your condo smells like lavender fields.”

“You’d be right. I’m about fifty in.”

I blink at her as she pulls the food out of the bag. “Only fifty?”

“That’s a lot, actually.”

“Jesus, you’ll be doing this well into the night.”

“That’s the plan.” She unwraps a sub. “Which one is mine?”

“They’re both the same. Turkey.”

“Cool.” She takes a big bite and reaches for a napkin to wipe the mayonnaise off her lip. “It’s a process of making sure the wax is the correct temperature, adding the scent and color dye, pouring, placing wicks, labeling the jars.”

“I can help. Seriously, I don’t have any other plans today. I can label jars and place wicks or whatever.”

She eyes me for a moment, chewing on her turkey sandwich, and then nods.

“I’ll happily put you to work, and I’ll even loan you an apron.”

I eye her as I chew my own sandwich. “You’re not wearing an apron.”

“I took it off a minute ago when I went to the restroom. Trust me, the wax can splash. The apron will save your clothes and a potential burn.”

“You’ve sold me on the apron. Will it be pink and frilly?”

“Sorry, the only one I have is red.” She laughs as she finishes half her sub, then wraps the other half and stows it in the fridge for later. She offers me a soda, and we’re comfortably quiet as we finish our lunch.

When my sandwich is gone, I toss the wrapper away and follow her into her guest bedroom.

“Whoa.”

The room isn’t set up for guests. Instead, she has big tables against three of the walls. A large cabinet dominates the wall with the door, and above the tables are shelves for more storage. There are even cabinets and totes under the tables for additional storage space.

I see some big slow-cooker-looking things with spigots on the front on one end. And dozens of jars set on the tables, some full, others waiting to be filled.

“Whoa,” I say again, and Cherry grins back at me.

“Yeah, this is the craft room. This is where I daydream and create pretty things.”

“What else do you make besides candles?”

She adds some white flakes to the slow cooker, which I assume is wax.

“I do wax melts, room sprays, shower sprays, bath bombs, salves. You name it, I can probably make it.”

“So, which one is your passion?”

She frowns over at me and blows a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. I cross to her to hook that strand behind her ear.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I asked. Is the crafting or the teaching what you’re passionate about?”

“Oh, the crafts for sure.” She gets back to work, pulling supplies out of drawers. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the kids. Well, most of the time. Sometimes, it’s a slog to get through the day, but all in all, it’s not bad. But this? My online store? That’s what I really love to do. I like coming up with new things, new scents, learning about how different oils work together for healing. I think it’s fascinating and a lot of fun. The store does pretty well, but it would probably do better if I could devote more time to it.”

“Why don’t you?”

She smirks, shaking her head. “Because going into business for yourself full time is a gamble that I can’t afford to take. If it fails, I’m fucked. I don’t come from a wealthy family that can bail me out if something goes wrong. It’s just me, and the thought of being even more strapped than I already am is not something I want to ever happen. It just can’t.”

“But it could also do amazing,” I insist. “Sure, it could fail, but the chances are just as good, or better, that you could not only make a good living but excel at it. You could sell your products locally, in stores.”

“You sound like Montana,” she says with a chuckle. “She’s always saying the same thing. ‘Sell at farmer’s markets, consign at some of the shops.’”

“I don’t think that sounds like a bad idea at all.”

“It’s too iffy.” She blows out a breath. “I need stability in my life, and working for someone else, for a set number of hours, knowing how much my paychecks will be, that’s stability.”

“But do you love it?”

“I love the assurance that I’m not broke.” She turns to me with the apron. “Now, let’s change the subject. Here’s your apron.”

“Will you tie it on?”

She grins and crosses to me, slipping the loop over my head before reaching around to tie the strings in the back. Her eyes are on mine as her breasts press to my belly, and I feel my blood get hot.

“I don’t have time for any shenanigans,” she warns me.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. You don’t have a poker face either.”

Cherry smirks and then turns to the business at hand.

“Okay, this will be a twenty-jar batch. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. Just tell me what to do.”

She’s an excellent teacher. Patient and ready to explain everything, step by step, as we move through all twenty jars.

I’m surprised by how complicated the process is.

“You know, I’ve never given much thought to how candles are made. It’s not easy.”

“Eh, it’s not hard. You just need to have the math down.”

“Yeah, I don’t do math.”

“Sure, you do. You work on cars.”

“That’s not math.”

“It’s a lot of math, you just don’t know it.” She grins over at me, and I want to kiss her.

Again.

She makes me feel smart and sexy and just good whenever I’m with her.

Why did it take me so long to see that?

“Zeke?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to take a turn pouring?”

“Oh, sure. Whatever you need. Where should we start?”

“First, we need to label the jars and set the wicks. Then we pour when the wax is up to temperature, and we’ve added the scent.”

“I feel like I should be paying you for this class.”

“Oh, this one’s free. The next one, though, that’ll cost you.”