The cookies were as transformative as usual. I ate three. Okay, five.
Chloe smiled as she watched me eat.
"Don't look at me," I said, covering my face. I was rewarded with peals of laughter.
"You're covered in powdered sugar," she said, giggling. She leaned over and kissed me, then playfully licked my mouth.
"Yum," she said. "Sugar. You taste like Christmas."
I pulled her close to me and kissed her not so playfully. She practically melted against me. I wrapped her legs around me.
"I need to take off your tights," I said.
"I thought," she said, her voice breathless, "I thought you wanted to fuck me in my sexy costume."
I kissed her, pressing her against me, and she ground her hips against my crotch.
"I don't think I can wait," I told her.
Her phone rang.
"Ignore it," I said, continuing to kiss her. The phone stopped ringing, then it beeped.
"Someone is trying to reach me. It could be about the bake-off." She pushed away from me somewhat reluctantly then went to grab the phone.
"It's Nina," she said. "Dana wants to talk about the marketing plan and product placement."
"Seems late."
"This whole Reality Romance production is a mess," she said, grabbing her bag and her coat.
Before I let her leave, I pressed her against the door, kissing her one last time. I didn't want to let her go, but she slipped out of my grasp.
"Come back anytime," I told her, watching her skip down the hall to the elevator.
The room was warm from the oven. Milo was eyeing the leftovers from dinner with alarming intensity.
"No," I told him. I was way too hot, so I threw open the doors to the balcony and let the snow come in. Then I plotted how I was going to get Chloe into my bed. Chloe was like her cookies: once I’d had a taste, I wanted the whole box.
Deciding I might as well do something productive, I took Milo for a walk and took a call with our Australia office. I saw a familiar red coat waiting in the lobby when I returned. Chloe? The woman turned. No, it was Hartleigh.
"You need to leave me alone," I told her.
She sniffed me, and Milo growled.
"You smell like baking," Hartleigh said. "I bet I know who it was." Her voice had taken on a high-pitched, lilting quality. She sounded really unhinged, and she wasn't blinking, just staring at me.
"It was Chloe, wasn't it?" She started to cry.
"It's not any of your business," I told her.
"You and I," she said, gesturing wildly, "Jack, we have something special. We always did."
"No, we don't. There is nothing between us. Go back to your apartment," I told her. I wished I had my sister Belle's authority. She could look at you, and you jumped to do her bidding.
"I'll tell Belle what you're up to," I threatened.
She flinched then smiled. "Belle isn't here, Jack, she's gone. But she'll come back for our wedding!" Hartleigh said with a laugh.
