Chapter 8

Meli

Fifteen minutesafter I got to work on Friday morning, Cairo walked through the back door of the bakery. This sounds like it should be a euphemism, but it's not.

I froze in the middle of tying my apron over the little sundress I'd worn to please my mother, panicking slightly.

I always kept the front door locked until opening time, but I hadn't thought to lock the back door. I didn't want to lock it. I didn't want to keep him out.

What is he doing here?

"What are you doing here?" I blurted, unhelpfully.

Cairo, dressed in board shorts and a t-shirt featuring a silk-screened purple hand holding a bottle of beer—which steamed for some reason—and emblazoned with the logo ‘Ogre Ale will put hair on your chest!' held up a small toolbox.

"I'm here to fix your stand mixer. Where is it?"

Oh.

Oh.

He'd…remembered.

Of course he remembered! You climbed on his lap yesterday so he could rub your arm, remember that kiss?

I don't think I'd ever forget that kiss, honestly.

But it was presumptive to think he would remember it. Cairo was grumpy and kept to himself; he hadn't actually wanted me in his space, much less his home.

Or his bed.

Likely blushing like a tomato, I showed him the broken stand mixer. He didn't say anything but grunted in acknowledgement, then began to fiddle with it, poking at things.

I stepped back, watching a bit like an anxious mother, until I decided the dude knew what he was doing. Or at least more than I did.

There was other stuff I needed to accomplish this morning, especially since Mom and Harper expected to meet me at the beach in two hours. But I kept looking over my shoulder at Cairo, working on my stand mixer.

Every once in a while, he'd curse quietly and scratch the back of his neck with whatever tool he happened to be holding, and I gotta admit, the sight made me smile.

It kinda reminded me of the way Dad would tackle the problems in his machine shop in the garage. I hadn't been lying when I told Cairo I used to help my father…well, as much as a curious little girl could help a big-time engineer. I was likely more hindrance.

Almost certainly.

But Dad had always answered my questions and given me easy tasks. Just like Cairo had when I was "helping" him with that clock. And just like those childhood afternoons when my mother had wanted me out of her hair, I'd had fun.

I had a surprising amount of fun when it came to Cairo, period.

And last night? That kiss? That had been extra fun.

We'd gone to the diner, which I figured was his way of saying he didn't want to kiss me anymore. And you know what? As much as I enjoyed the kiss, I wasn't angry at him or anything for ending it, then suggesting we do literally anything else besides kiss again.

I was the one who had invaded his space, forced myself on him. He was being a perfect gentleman, and really sweet—that arm massage, anyone? Yes please!

And I was the one who'd kissed him, yeah? Oh, he'd mentioned it first, but I was the one who'd practically thrown myself at him, then rubbed my bits all over his bits until I could feel how aroused he was.

In fact, just the memory of that huge hardness under my thigh made me flush again this morning. I was staring at him, remembering the feel of him, remembering how breathless I'd been at the thought of tasting a cock that large. It felt even bigger than the dildo I'd hidden well before I left Mom to stay in my room.

My mouth was watering already.

Suddenly, Cairo straightened. I saw his nostrils flare and then he twisted to pierce me with his dark stare.

Except it wasn't dark.

Like last night, his eyes seemed to be…almost glowing? No, that's impossible. But there was a definite green tint to them.

It was sexy as hell.

But from the way his shoulders were heaving, the way his nose was wrinkling, I wondered if I'd stepped in something nasty. He did not look pleased.

He looked as if he could smell something that bothered him.

"I have to—uh…go. The front room. Open door."

With that completely stupid fake excuse, I bolted.

Once I could breathe again, I pressed my forehead against the front door and cursed myself.

Last night, dinner had been fun. I'd made Cairo smile a few times, and his dark, dry humor had made me laugh. I'd enjoyed hanging out with him, and to my surprise, he hadn't seemed uncomfortable out and about in Eastshore, the way Jess said Karnak had been.

Maybe Cairo wasn't actually reclusive or shy. Maybe he just didn't want to worry about what other people thought, the way he'd said.

Anyhow, dinner had been great, which made coming back to his house even worse. I'd escaped to the bedroom and hurried through my nighttime ritual—quietest pee in the history of peeing, because I would be mortified if he heard me!—only for him to ignore me. I'd crawled under the covers, half-breathless in anticipation, wondering if he'd come to me…

He didn't.

I eventually fell asleep, horny as hell, unfulfilled, and angry at myself for expecting something from my poor, beleaguered host.

But I couldn't avoid the back room forever, and when I returned, Cairo was just settling the mixer back into its place. "Okay, you fucker, that had better be it," he growled as he stabbed the button.

It began to mix, slowly and smoothly, without the horrible noise or the weird smell. "You did it!" I cried, throwing myself at him.

He seemed surprised, but he caught me. I was so excited I kissed his cheek, then felt his arms tighten around me.

That was when I realized what I'd done. I stilled, staring up at him, my arms around his neck. "I mean… Thank you," I whispered. "That really means a lot to me. I couldn't afford a new one."

His eyes were doing that green thing again, but all he said was, "Electrical short," in that gruff way of his, before he cleared his throat and set me away from him.

I was embarrassed by my enthusiastic response and was trying to figure out a way for him leave without embarrassing either of us further…when he surprised me. "What else is broken around here?"

My brows rose. He…wanted to stay?

Well, I most definitely wanted him to stay, so I showed him the fridge, which had a wonky temperature control, and one of the back AC ducts where the cover had fallen off.

Cairo just nodded and picked up his toolbox.

I was so damned excited about his help, I felt like skipping. And singing.

When Peggy arrived, I gushed about his work until she began to laugh and tease me. But I couldn't help it; each thing he fixed for me meant the bakery worked a little smoother, a little more efficiently, a little more economically.

So I was bouncing on my toes when I went to the kitchen and began to climb out of my apron. "Thank you so much, Cairo." I tried to sound as appreciative as possible. "Seriously, you saved me so much trouble and money and headache."

My large handyorc was packing up his tools, and now he nodded at me, a little hesitantly, eyes following my movements.

"Peggy's taking over," I explained. "I promised Mom I'd meet her and Harper at the beach."

His chin jerked toward my sundress. "You have on a bikini under there?"

My hands froze, and I flushed. Did he…want to see me in a bikini? "Um…no, I didn't think I'd go swimming today. I only blocked off a few hours and then promised I'd do lunch with them before coming back here." I thought a sundress would work for the beach and lunch and work.

Cairo nodded, heading for the back door. "I'll drive."

He'd—what? I hurried after him. "You—you don't have to come, Cairo!"

He was holding the door for me. "Your mom said she wanted to hang out with me, yeah? This'll convince her we're dating?"

"I mean…yeah? But seriously, you don't—"

"My truck's the red one." As if I didn't know.

But I stopped protesting and climbed in. If Cairo was willing to sacrifice the rest of his morning to hang out with my overbearing mother in order to save me from being set up with more unsuitable suitors, then yes please.

Just one more thing I would owe him for. This male kept saving me.

The beach didn't start out too badly; Mom gushed over both of us being there with her and Harper. My sister was the one to hug me and say, "Thanks for taking a few hours off to hang out," which made me feel a little better. At least someone acknowledged it was a pain to rearrange my schedule to suit them, you know?

Mom pointed to her big pile of beach-related accoutrements and said, "Cairo—what kind of name is Cairo? Be a good boy and carry my bag and chairs and umbrella, would you?"

Then, without waiting for a response, she flip-flopped her way from the parking area to the beach, leaving my sister and I to roll our eyes and stoop to help Cairo.

Harper was friendly, at least, asking Cairo all sorts of questions about his work on the island as they set up. My mother, of course, was unimpressed.

"You mean you're an actual auto mechanic? Well," she sniffed, "I suppose there's not a lot of opportunities for your kind, hmm? My husband is an aerospace engineer."

"Careful, Mom," Harper warned, settling into the shade. "You're sounding racist."

"Racist? Me?" my mother gasped, looking suitably offended. "Anything but! You know I pay Mr. Cruz well to keep the yard looking gorgeous! Besides, being orc isn't really a different race, is it?"

Harper winced again, and I wanted to bury my head in the sand. Cairo, on the other hand, ignored her.

He stretched out on his back and stacked his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

If he was napping, I was jealous as hell.

The next hour was basically me side-stepping my mom's nagging. Harper was a godsend, asking me questions about the bakery and the plan to expand—which got Mom's stamp of approval, because of course it did.

"I'm so proud of you, darling. I know you have more potential than just being stuck on this tiny little dead-end island forever. Oh, don't get me wrong, Eastshore is adorable, and just a delight to visit. But where's the nearest sushi restaurant?"

"Mom, it's an island," I sighed. "We're surrounded by sushi!"

If I hadn't been looking at Cairo, I would've missed the way his lips curled at that comment.

"So," Harper interrupted overly brightly, "tell us how you and Cairo met!"

Well, if I was going to lie about our pretend relationship, at least it was good he was there too, so we could keep our stories straight.

"His cousin is married to Jess. You know, my bestie? And I have had the hots for Cairo for ages."

"Hmm, I can see why," Harper teased. "So you asked him out?"

"Oh, um…" I very carefully did not glance at him. "Kinda. He kissed me first. But I guess you could say we're dating because of me."

"Good for you, girl," my sister said at the same time my mother tsked. "Cairo, come under the shade. You've been in the sun too long."

"No, ma'am," he rumbled, rolling over. "Orcs don't get sunburned. It's the whole being green thing."

I wondered if that was a dig at her racist—speciest?—comment earlier, but I got distracted by the sight of his broad back covered in sand. I wanted to jump up and rush over to brush it all off.

Instead, I watched as he pulled a tool from his back pocket and began to dig in the sand.

"You brought a shovel?" I blurted.

He held it up without glancing at me. "Paint scraper, from earlier."

I don't know what he'd been using a scraper for in my shop, but as I watched, he piled up sand, packed it down, then used the tool to carefully and meticulously cut away sand until he was left with…

"A perfect cube," Harper murmured. "Impressive."

Was it? I glanced at her in surprise. Cubes weren't that difficult, but this one was perfect.

As Mom droned on about some issue with her hair stylist and one of her friends from book club, I watched Cairo shaping the sand into precise shapes. None of them were mind-boggling, but they were perfectly proportioned and precise.

Just like him.

"Cairo," Harper called, interrupting our mother, who was startled. "You're very good at that. Did I see a sign advertising a sand sculpture contest next week?"

"Oh, yeah, Jess was excited about that," I explained. "The chamber of commerce is even providing a cash prize for the best sand sculpture."

My sister's brows went up. "That would be helpful, if you're planning on expanding."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but I scoffed. "I have zero artistic ability. No, not zero, negative artistic ability."

"That's not true," Mom chided, to my surprise. "Your cupcakes are just adorable, darling! All those little squigglies!"

Well…I guess that was true. I tried not to flush from her praise. "I guess so. But that doesn't mean I can make a sandcastle!"

"I know someone who can," mused Harper, and when I glanced at her, she nodded to Cairo.

I turned to find him staring at me. He slowly raised one brow, as if asking me what I thought.

Was he…offering to be on a team with me? Lord knows I could really use that prize money if I wanted to expand my business, but it hadn't occurred to me to enter the contest.

My mother's hand clap seemed loud, despite the noise of the surf and the beachgoers around us. "It's settled then! Cairo and Melinda will be on a team! Harper, you and Simon should enter together, and I'll register your father with me."

Leave it to my mother to make plans like that, unilaterally.

Ignoring her, I asked Cairo, "Are you okay with that? You don't have to if you don't want to…"

"Would it help you?" he finally asked in response.

I glanced at the perfectly proportioned shapes he'd eyeballed and free-handed. "I think you could win the contest single-handedly."

Mom snorted genteelly. "My Richard will win it, you mean."

Cairo held my gaze, finally nodding. "I'll register us," he announced, rolling to his feet. When he held out his hand, I took it, because I mean of course I took it. The male had rescued me yet again.

Swoon.

Gorgeous, kind, and a good kisser? I needed to jump this guy and seal the deal.

He pulled me to my feet and leaned down to brush a kiss on my temple. "I'm not going to make it through lunch," he murmured, for my ears only.

And instead of being embarrassed or angry, his words made me giggle. I shook my head and whispered back, "No worries. I'm impressed you made it this far."

He grunted something like "Me too" before releasing me.

His goodbyes to my mother and sister were polite, but brief. Harper's smile didn't seem forced when she waved. "Looking forward to hanging out with you more, Cairo. I'm sure there's so much more about you we need to know."

"I doubt that," he muttered, but he glanced once at me. I pushed myself up on my toes to give him a quick goodbye peck on his lips.

And I didn't even pretend I'd done it for my family's benefit.

I watched him walk away, and knew my time was running out. My mother and sister would leave tomorrow and be back on the third. There was no need to pretend Cairo was my boyfriend in the interim.

But that didn't stop me wanting him.

Tonight. I'd make my move tonight.