Kaelyn
I’m so glad Hemming and I had our conversation yesterday, because nothing has felt strange or awkward since.
The sex was a bonus, too. I feel lighter in a way I haven’t in a very long time.
Gosh, when was the last time sex was as good as it was this morning?
It’s been a while, that’s all I know.
I can absolutely be okay being married to the sex god that is Hemming Johansen, for however long needed.
Or, however long he’ll have me.
Whichever is the longest.
After our shower—where we decided it was a tight fit but doable—we had coffee and he had his usual eggs. When Tucker texted him and asked why he didn’t run this morning, he texted back that he slept in.
I told him he could have told him he was otherwise occupied but Hemming shook his head. “What goes on between us is for us.”
Now, I have two cupcake pans cooling—I ended up opting for mini cupcakes, after all—and another in the oven, and I’m batching both a buttercream and whipped frosting, both of which I’ll split and flavor.
I forgot how much fun I have while baking and the hours have flown by.
While I started with traditional cake recipes, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d try to figure out a good cake recipe using whey or casein powder. I have to figure out my bases first, though.
I’m pulling out the third pan when the doorbell chimes throughout the house, startling me. I almost drop the pan but get it placed on the silicone pot holder.
“Show me the front door,” I tell the smart screen that Tucker had installed before we got here. It doesn’t take long before the screen flips and I see Kate standing outside, waving at the camera.
For a quick moment, my body goes into flight mode. My heart flips and starts to race, my palms sweat.
“Stop it,” I tell myself. It’s just Kate. I can do this.
Brushing my hands over the gray sweatpants I stole from Hemming’s dresser, I head to the front door and pull it open after turning the deadlock. “Hey, Kate.”
“Hi! I was going to call, but then thought you’re maybe like me and wouldn’t answer the phone, so I thought I’d risk walking over here. I have cookies.” She holds up a blue package of Oreos.
“Nothing is finished yet, but your timing is good,” I tell her, stepping aside to let her in. “I’m just finishing up my frosting batch and then I’ll pipe the cupcakes.”
“I’m not kidding when I say I’ll taste them all,” she chuckles as she closes the door behind her. Tanner must have engrained it in her too, because she flips the deadbolt as she toes off her shoes. “Do you like Oreos? We have six different varieties, and I figured it was the stash I could share.”
I walk her toward the kitchen. “Honestly? I like the cookie, but I’m not a big fan of the filling.”
Kate gasps jokingly, but then makes a comment about the house. “It’s a way different set up than we have. Have you been to the main house?”
“Yes, the first day we were here, Tucker gave us a tour. It’s a gorgeous house, isn’t it?”
“So pretty. Okay, tell me what cupcakes you have.”
Kate sits at the counter and we spend the next thirty minutes going over the six cake flavors I have prepared. I know when I first met her, I was amazed at how normal she was, and even at lunch yesterday, she was easy to get along with.
But today?
In a matter of minutes, it’s like we’ve been friends forever.
“This is the one I kind of randomly threw together today,” I tell her, pushing the cream-colored cupcake toward her. “It’s been a long time since I concocted a flavor, so if it’s bad, please tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings.” She’s allegedly liked every other flavor, but when they were vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, blue velvet, and carrot...
They weren’t difficult flavors to perfect.
Especially because red and blue velvet cakes are basically the same damn thing—although if someone wants a true red velvet, make with beetroot, I’ll do it.
“What’s it supposed to be?” Kate asks, and pretends to be a cupcake critic as she lifts it in front of her face, turning it from side to side.
“I’d like you to taste it first.” My nerves are on edge with this particular flavor. I’ve been giving thought to the town meeting on Friday and agree with Hemming that it would be a good idea to go and introduce ourselves.
I think if this cupcake is any good, it’ll be a good one to bring with. With September and fall right around the corner, it’s a flavor that should get people excited.
I watch as Kate takes a bite, immediately closing her eyes as the flavor hits her tongue. I have to bite my lip to refrain from jumping on her for a review.
“That’s so freaking good,” she finally says, her eyes wide and brows up.
“If you had to guess... What flavors do you get?”
“Some kind of spice.” She rips off a small piece from the remaining half and pops it in her mouth. “Not pumpkin. Apple?”
I bite my lips to try to stop from grinning wide, but I can’t seem to stop my shoulders from shaking.
“And is the frosting a caramel flavor?”
“It is.” No longer able to contain myself, I clasp my hands near my mouth. “Caramel apple spice. All natural flavors. I was originally going to try to make an apple cider donut flavor, but I think I want to wait until one of the local orchards has their cider ready. I’d love to support other local businesses.”
“I love that.” Kate finishes the cupcake she has then stands from the rung of her chair, reaching for another. “These will be a hit, but I kind of think they should be seasonal. People will buy you out, no doubt about it.”
We talk about other potential seasonal flavors, and soon, Kate’s going through my Pinterest board, swiping slowly with her left hand while making notes on a sheet of paper with her right.
“Tell me how long you work on that. I’ll pay you.” As Kate looked through my idea board, she told me how my vision board could morph into the real thing, and I was excited for yet another reason.
First my cupcakes were good, and then a vision for my store was starting to come to life.
Kate shakes her head, sliding the iPad back to me. “You can pay me in cupcakes. Seriously. That’s the only form of payment I’ll accept from you.”
“Here, take some of these home with you,” I say, spinning in a small circle as I try to remember where the plastic containers are. Once I remember, I grab a square one and place three vanilla, three chocolate, and three caramel apple cupcakes in it. I take a second container and pack away both velvet varieties, as well as the carrot, handing both containers to Kate.
“Tanner’s gonna have one of each and then think he gets two of each, because I’ve been here all afternoon, but dude’s gonna be sorely mistaken,” Kate laughs.
“You have high expectations,” I chuckle, and Kate shakes her head at me.
“You need to have better confidence, Kae. These are so freaking good. It’s crazy to me that you never baked for people before. I mean, I’d totally make a cake for myself if I baked like this. But you’re going to make the town so happy. Between cupcakes by you, and wine at Pōr, and ice cream at Bailey’s...? Heck, we can host a girls night out once a month. I’ll start a group chat with the Paiges and get you on.”
The way Kate dreams loudly feels like a whirlwind, but at the same time, I feel like I fit in, and that’s a novel feeling to have.
“Thank you for coming over,” I tell her sincerely.
“Absolutely. And if you ever need taste buds, I’m your girl. Call me first. Promise me.”
Laughing lightly, I nod. “Okay, yes. Promise. Although I’ll be figuring out protein cupcakes next.”
Kate grimaces slightly before shrugging. “They may not be that bad. I’ll still be your guinea pig.”
“Do you want these?” I ask, picking up the untouched Oreos, at the same time I hear the front lock disengaging. Wilson hears it too, and comes out of the bedroom, where he was sleeping under the bed.
“No, you can keep them. We seriously have five more packages,” Kate answers, looking over her shoulder toward the foyer.
Wilson slowly meanders to the front door, no doubt expecting hello pets from Hemming.
When the front door seems to shut, I call out, “It’s a disaster in the kitchen. You might prefer to go do something else.”
Hemming walks out of the foyer, Wilson in his arms. “It smells really good in here. Hey, Kate.”
“Hey, Hemming. I was just getting ready to leave, but if you try the cupcakes, maybe tell Tanner they’re not great, so I can eat all of these by myself,” Kate says, lifting the containers up.
“Sure,” Hemming chuckles. He walks straight over to me and leans down to press his lips to mine. My heart tumbles in my chest.
I could get used to real.
Hemming pulls away from my mouth and turns back to Kate, who’s watching us with a grin on her face. The moment we look toward her, she takes a step toward the foyer. “You guys have a good night!”
“Good night, Kate,” Hemming says, at the same time I wave and say, “Thank you again, Kate.”
After the front door closes behind her, Hemming places Wilson down on the ground. “You save any room for dinner?”
“Maybe. But I have a lot of cleaning to do first...” I look around the kitchen.
It’s truly not that bad. I try to clean things as I go, especially when working with so many different bases and flavors. “Can you try just one for me?” I ask, giving him my best impression of puppy dog eyes. I’d like him to try the apple one, too, and if he likes it, I’ll share my idea with him about Friday.
“I’ll try one. What’ve you got for me?” Hemming moves to the sink to wash his hands as I get a cupcake for him.
“Here. I’d like you to taste this one.”
He frowns momentarily as he looks at is. “What kind is it?”
“Taste it.”
While the mini cupcakes are truly two-bite cupcakes for most people, Hemming pops the whole thing in his mouth. Like when Kate tasted it, I watch with anticipation. Nothing changes on his face though, and I have to tell myself it’s too early to be disappointed.
He’s not a sweets person. It might take more than a quick morsel to decide it’s good. He may need it to sit on his tongue a few seconds longer...
“That’s really good. I got caramel from it.” He surprises me by reaching around me to grab a second. “Am I close?” He pops the other one in his mouth with just as little fanfare as the first.
“Caramel apple. Kate suggested that when the bakery is open, I only offer it seasonally.”
“That’s probably a smart business decision. Hey, you got any more of this frosting laying around?”
Because it was the last frosting I used, I hadn’t cleaned it up yet. “I do.”
“Good. Don’t toss it. I’ll help you clean.”
“Has anyone ever told you you change conversations like a flip of a switch?” I grin as I ask, moving to put the remaining cupcakes in containers.
“No, but I can see why you think it,” he chuckles. “You wanna just pop a pizza in the oven tonight? We’ll clean, have pizza, and maybe you can help me switch the beds.”
I stack the containers. “I guess the king bed makes more sense if we’re both sleeping in it.”
“I fully expect to wake up with you all over me every morning, regardless of the size of the bed.” Hemming sends me a heated gaze. “You’re two for two. But you were right that the full sized bed will fit better in the second bedroom with the weight equipment.”
We finish cleaning the kitchen, and get a pizza in the oven. While that’s cooking, I take apart the full-sized bed as Hemming works on the king. Instead of putting both beds back together though, we leave the full size one in pieces with the mattress resting against the wall in the second bedroom. I find clean linens to dress the bed, and as I put the sheets on, the oven goes off and Hemming pulls the pizza out.
It's amazing to me how quickly we fell into a domesticated routine. There’s a level of ease I feel with Hemming that I’d have never guessed could exist.
After pizza, we watch an episode of the show we started last night.
“Grab those Oreos,” Hemming says, getting the show set up.
“I thought you don’t do sweets,” I tease, ripping off a paper towel and bringing it and the blue package to the couch. As I sit, I pull back the sealed section.
“I have a sweet tooth today.”
I grin as I hold the package out for him. He takes four.
“I’m starting to wonder if maybe you lied when you said you don’t like sweets, and it’s more of a...you don’t want to like sweets.”
He hums with a crooked smile, so I think I’m on to something.
Like any normal person, I twist the cookies apart and eat the empty chocolate cookie, but when I move to the cookie that has the cream attached to it, I roll it off and place it on the paper towel.
I’m on my third cookie sandwich before Hemming notices.
“What are you doing?”
I glance at him and shrug my shoulders. “I don’t like the filling.”
He looks at me incredulously. “You don’t like the filling?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Everyone loves the filling. It’s why they make double stuff and mega stuff Oreos.”
After shrugging, I say, “Well, I guess I get your pickles, and you get my Oreo stuffing.”
Hemming takes one more cookie from the package and makes a show of making a quadruple-stuffed Oreo with my discarded middles, although he makes a crumby mess all over his face while doing it.
We watch a second episode and when I decide it’s time for bed, Hemming says he’ll be in right after me.
After changing, washing my face, and brushing my teeth—God, Oreos make your teeth and molars an absolute mess—I climb into the large bed, sighing as the mattress seems to embrace me in its cloud-like comfort.
“Oh, this is a nice mattress.”
Hemming walks into the room as I say it, and he chuckles. “I splurged. You’ll sleep really good tonight.”
Then he tosses a small plastic container on the bed, and after it hits, he tosses something smaller. “For a few reasons,” he adds.
I sit up to take a look.
The smaller package is a condom, and the container—
“I’m going to lick that caramel frosting off your tits,” he informs me when I lift my eyes to his. “And then I’m going fuck you, and I’m not pulling out this time.”
Oh yes.
I’ll be sleeping really good tonight.
And it’ll be due to more than just a mattress.