A smile quirked at the edges of his mouth.
"Sit," I ordered him. "I'm never able to do a lot of baking. Mainly all I make is alcohol and sandwiches. People don't come here for dessert. I'm going to enjoy every minute of this."
I went to my storage room and pulled out all my baking equipment. It wasn't high-end—I didn't even have a stand mixer. But I had my soufflé rings and a nice whisk I had inherited from Melvin.
"Well," Archer said. "Since you have all your stuff out, can I have some popcorn?" He wrapped his arms around me, kissing up my neck to my jaw. "Please? Pretty please?"
I turned around and kissed his mouth, still a little shocked that this was actually happening. But his mouth was very real, pressed against mine. His tongue stroked the inside of my mouth, like he could stand there all day, pressing me against the bar. My hands traveled up the ripple of muscles on his back. They went lower to his belt—but Archer released me before I could throw caution out and suggest sex in the café.
I shooed him to the bar stool, poured in the oil and popcorn kernels, and set a large popcorn pot on the gas stove. I had to fiddle with it a little to make it work. Maybe one day I would have a nice kitchen.
The café was arranged so that the kitchen was open to the dining space. Archer watched me with interest. "Wait, that's how you make popcorn?" Archer asked, looking over. "That's really cool."
"How do you make popcorn?" I asked as I turned the wooden handle.
He shrugged. "A bag?"
"This is so much better," I said. "Want to try?"
Archer joined me behind the counter. "Just turn it slowly," I instructed. He started cranking the wheel like he was trying to start a motorcycle.
"Slowly," I said, resting my hand on his. "You want to let the kernels sit in the heat just long enough to get a little jumpy then rotate them so they don't burn. Nothing worse than burnt popcorn."
I set the truffle butter to melt in a little pot on the stove then chopped some parsley. All the while, I snuck glances at Archer, admiring the lines of his body. He had his weight shifted on one leg, the sleeves on his white dress shirt rolled up. The tendons and veins on his forearm flexed slightly as he rotated the handle.
"There is something wrong with me if I'm getting turned on by this," I muttered.
Archer grinned. "What was that?"
"Nothing. We should have some alcohol with this, shouldn't we? Alcohol makes any situation better," I said, hastily grabbing mixers and liquor and setting them on the counter.
I grabbed handfuls of the raspberries and put them in a glass pitcher, muddling them with a wooden spoon. I didn't want to make jam, just to release the juice and the flavor. I added in club soda, vodka, a hint of lime, and some local honey. I tasted the concoction. It had a bright, summery flavor.
I poured the drink into a glass and held it up to Archer's mouth. He took a sip.
"These are the best raspberries I've ever had. You don't need sugar or anything," I said.
"It's very refreshing," he said, leaning down to kiss me. The popcorn rattled around in the pot.
"Keep stirring," I told him.
He kissed me again then took another sip of the drink.
"It's not too sweet, is it?" I asked. "Are you one of those guys who doesn't like sweets?"
"Hardly," Archer scoffed. "Give me your cookies, cakes, and pies. I will eat them all. My friend Chloe has a bakery, and she always gives me free stuff. I have the Grey Dove Bistro make hand-decorated sugar cookies that look like each of my hotels. We give them out instead of chocolates. The free Instagram publicity we get from them is nuts. I'm thinking about having her do a special Christmas version of the cookies, you know, with the hotels all decorated and snowy with lights."
The vodka churned in my stomach when I thought of Chloe. Her bistro would absolutely put me out of business. I forced myself to calm down.
Positive energy! I have a sexy guy in my kitchen. I'm going to bake. Don't freak out. Don't be weird. Don't blow this.
"I'm glad you like sugar," I said lightly.
"I like eating all sorts of sweet things," he said, his deep voice promising more pleasure than chocolate cake.
"These raspberries sure are sweet," I said, shoving a handful in my mouth. The juice ran down my chin.
Archer leaned over and licked it off lightly. The popcorn in the pot went crazy.
