His hands move down my outer thigh, and I feel myself clench with need, desire building to epic heights. His hands roam under my sleep shirt and settle between my thighs.
I gasp, my eyes flying open. Scarlett and Rhett are kissing, and I’m sweating under the throw cover. The room is dark, save for the TV, and Ember is nowhere in sight.
“What the hell?” I’m having sex dreams about Ember. I throw the light blanket off me and stand, turning off the television. I walk into the kitchen and drink some water before heading off to bed. I blame Greg for this; he’s the one that put these insane ideas in my head. “Argh,” I groan out loud as I crawl into bed, the ache between my thighs still very real.
* * *
“Wow,”I whisper under my breath as I pull up behind a long line of expensive cars. I had no idea there were houses like this on the outskirts of Sunnyville, and I’ve lived here my whole life. The palatial home sits on what could easily be an acre of perfectly manicured land. I get out of the car, and I feel like I’ve stepped onto the scene of an old movie. It is gorgeous. Looking at the guests walking toward the house, I suddenly feel underdressed in my floral sundress and boots. I text Greg to let him know I’ve arrived. He texts me back that he’s on his way to help me bring in the dozens of petit fours.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Greg greets, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
Will waves. “Nice to see you again, Shelby.”
“Hi, you two. Greg, I feel so underdressed. You didn’t tell me we were visiting royalty.” I tug at my dress.
“Oh, please, you look gorgeous in anything.” I’m not so sure about that. Women wear headpieces and fancy day dresses. Most of the men are in tailored suits. This is a fancy get together.
The three of us unload the desserts and make our way up the brick path leading to the front door, flanked by grand stone columns. Kids throw a football out front. I smile at the scene, which was pretty sweet until the ball is hauled in my direction. I am dumbstruck, instinctively raising my tray of petit fours to block my face. The ball misses me mere by inches. My heel sticks between a space in the bricks and the tray starts to fly out of my hands. I’m steadied by a firm grip on my arm seconds before I land on the floor with it.
“God,” I whisper, spinning around to a familiar face. ‘You?” I hiss.
Ember grins guiltily at me. “I am so sorry about that.” He motions to the tray on the ground, his other hand still wrapped around my forearm.
“Did you throw that ball at me on purpose?” I tug my heel out of the gap and shrug off his arm. Greg and Will stand staring at us.
“Of course not. I didn’t see you until it was too late. Why would I do that?”
“’Becauseyou, Ember, are a grade-a-asshole. Just look at this.” I feel my face heat up, my heart pounding against my chest as I look at my handiwork on the ground.
“There are still tons we can salvage.” Ember shrugs.
“Are you fucking serious?” I run my hands through my hair. “Do you have any idea how you’ve screwed this up for me?”
“These should be okay, babe.” Greg tries to console me. Will nods beside him.
“Babe? Who the fuck are you?” Ember asks, getting in Greg’s face.
Greg cocks a brow. “Question is, who the fuck are you?”
“He is my friend.” I poke Ember’s chest, and he stares down at me, amused.
“And you...” I look at Greg. “Don’t entertain this nonsense.
“You and Will go on in. I’ll clean this up.” Greg offers.
“No.Hewill do it.” I glare at Ember. “And stay out of my way.” He doesn’t argue. Instead, he crouches and starts to gather the ruined tarts onto the tray. One of the boys comes over to help him. I turn to Greg and Will and ask them to lead the way.
The interior of the regal home is as impressive as the outside. The luxurious home is spread over three floors and has hardwood floors, airy double-height ceilings, and tall sash windows that make it light and airy. Will leads the way into what I can only explain as a cook’s dream kitchen, country style with perfectly placed modern twists and sleek marble countertops.
“This is incredible,” I exclaim.
“Thank you, dear,” a woman speaks from behind me. I turn to be met by an elegantly dressed older woman. She looks familiar, and I wonder if I have seen her in town. Her peach suit is perfectly tailored, her salt and pepper hair impeccably styled. She smiles at me warmly. “I am Reagan Dale.”
“Shelby Brooks. The baker.” I take her outstretched hand. “It’s great to meet you.”
“Oh, the pleasure is mine. I cannot thank you enough for stepping in at such short notice.”
“I am two dozen short. We had a bit of an accident outside.” I feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
