Gage peered at his iPad, propped up against a canister of cinnamon, trying to remember if he was supposed to beat the mixture until creamy or until crumbly. It was a new recipe and thus he didn’t have it memorized yet – just a test run to see if mint Oreos would work both in the crust and mixed throughout.
As he concentrated, adding another dab of vanilla to the mixture and flipping the beaters back on, he felt the anger that had been throbbing through him the last week begin to ebb away, leaking out of him like air out of a tiny hole in a bike tire. Here, he was in charge. Here, he could make magic with his hands by pulling ingredients together that were heaven on the tongue, even if certain women thought he was nothing but a creeper with those hands and—
He slapped at the switch, shutting the beaters back off, forcing himself to take a deep breath and then let it slowly back out, pushing the mounting anger back down again.
It was fine. Here in his kitchen, he was in charge.
Sugar was out front, taking care of the customers, and he was back here, by himself, happy and creating and letting loose in the best way possible. He had to stop letting Cady get under his skin like this. She was obviously unbalanced, and trying to make someone like that happy was impossible.
He could stop driving himself insane, and just forget the smell of her hair and the feel of her lips already.
He roughly stuffed handfuls of the mint Oreos into a gallon Ziploc bag until it looked like about the right amount, sealed it shut, and then picked up his favorite rolling pin. He should be better about measuring so he could recreate this recipe later if it ended up being a winner but he just wasn’t in the mood. Right then, he just wanted to create – to be free to work and not worry about every little thing. Not worry that he was making a mistake or scaring Cady—
“Hi, Gage.” Cady’s voice forced its way through the haze of frustration and anger and his head snapped up, shock shooting through him. It couldn’t be—
It was.
Cady was in the doorway of his kitchen, looking beautiful and delicate and—
He smashed the rolling pin down on the bag, shooting bits of Oreos into the air through a section of the zipper that he apparently hadn’t closed well enough.
“Hi, Cady,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, tossing the rolling pin down with a thunk and rezipping the closure along the edge of the bag, this time making sure most of the air was out of the bag and the teeth had actually grabbed securely to each other before picking up the rolling pin again. “How are you?”
His voice was flat. Harsh. Even to his own ears, it didn’t sound like him at all, but it was all he could do not to lose his temper completely. She could damn well put up with a bit of rudeness.
It was the least she could do, honestly.
“I’m good.”
Her voice was hesitant and he could tell without looking up that she wanted him to look at her; that her eyes would be begging for it if he’d just glance at her, but he didn’t. He ran the rolling pin across the bag, crunching and smashing the cookies, enjoying the destruction, waiting for Cady to say her piece and then get out of his kitchen.
“I…uhhh…I started seeing someone.”
Her words hit like a bolt of lightning out of the clear blue sky. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. How could she? How dare she?
“That didn’t take long,” he got out, viciously pleased that he sounded sarcastic. Mean. “What’s the lucky guy’s name?” He didn’t consider himself to be a violent man, but in that moment, he would’ve gladly squashed the nameless, faceless man like a bug beneath his shoe. Maybe he’d pay the jackass a visit that evening and—
“Jane Wethersmith.”
Gage froze. The world stopped. He stopped. Everything, everywhere stopped and he was left grasping at straws, trying to figure out what had just happened.
“Well,” he finally growled, when he could get the air back into his lungs again, “this explains sooo much. When were you planning on sharing the news with the rest of the class?”
He’d started rolling the pin again, crushing the Oreos into tiny crumbs, much too small for what he needed and he’d have to throw them out and start again but right then, he wanted to crush something and since homicide wasn’t legal, Oreos would just have to do the trick.
“Dr. Jane Wethersmith. A therapist out of Franklin. She…I explained that it was an emergency and she stayed late last night to work me into her schedule. I told her everything. I’m going back again next week. She thinks I should also try some sort of medication, like Prozac or Wellbutrin or something. I’ve spent the whole day convincing myself that taking a little pill doesn’t mean that I’m crazy. Or that talking to someone doesn’t make me crazy. I’m…I’m not 100% sure I’ve convinced my brain that this is fine, but I’m doing it anyway. I don’t like being on a rollercoaster ride all the time. I don’t like not knowing if something is going to freak me out and I’m going to fall apart. I didn’t used to be this way; I swear I wasn’t. I used to be normal, I promise.”
She laughed awkwardly but the sound quickly died away as Gage turned to look at her. He didn’t have words. There was a part of his brain that was whispering urgently that he was in shock, but he didn’t know how to deal with that fact. Or any facts at all.
“Therapist?” he whispered.
Cady nodded slowly, her brown curls bouncing in time. “Super New Cady realized that if I didn’t stop jerking you around, I’d lose you forever. I like you, Gage. A lot. And for some unknown reason, you’ve at least put up with me thus far, and that’s more than I really deserve, honestly. But I have a whole bucketload of shit to work through, and if that means getting help…it’s a damn sight better than losing you.”
“Super New Cady?” Gage repeated, moving slowly towards Cady, the palms of his hands aching to touch her skin. “What happened to New Cady?”
“She got upgraded,” Cady said seriously, and then took a step towards him. He wondered if she could hear his heart thundering, if it was as loud to her as it was to him. “Turns out, New Cady was getting out of bed and going to work, but she still had some fairly large flaws, like freaking out when her boyfriend kissed her.”
Gage stopped right in front of her, so close that her chest grazed his with every breath. “Boyfriend?” he whispered. He was so close, he could see her long, thick eyelashes, tangling together, brushing against her cheeks with every blink, almost as curly as her hair. “I didn’t know I’d been upgraded to boyfriend status.”
“Only if you want it.” But before he could open his mouth to tell her how very much he wanted it, she rushed on. “I have to take it slow. I know it isn’t fair to you, but I need the room to change and grow. Will you promise not to rush me?”
He stroked his hand down the curve of her cheek, feeling like he could promise her the world in that moment, and he’d deliver. “I promise,” he whispered. “You’re in the driver’s seat. Girlfriend.” He tested the name on his tongue and discovered that he liked it very, very much.
She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly. And then, in a clear bid to change the topic, “Now, what were you making before I interrupted you?”
“New recipe.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the counter. “I’ll need a taste tester, and as my girlfriend, you are, of course, to serve as my primary testing subject.”
Her laughter tinkled out as he tossed the annihilated Oreos off to the side and began putting together a new bag. “I didn’t realize my title came with such serious duties,” she teased him, standing next to him and watching his every move.
His groin tightened with anticipation as his imagination supplied other…duties that she could perform, but he stomped on that thought, sending it straight into oblivion. If she wanted slow, she’d get slow, and if they were starting out at kissing-the-cheek stage…
Well, it’d be a damn long time until his dick was happy, that was for sure.