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“Don’t tell me that Black Mirror episode wasn’t good.” Lainey slipped off her sweater, revealing a t-shirt that dipped toward her heaving chest that was just begging to be kissed, licked, and sucked.
Fucking hell.
I swallowed, trying to ignore the barrage of intrusive thoughts stampeding through my head. My eyes wandered to the dip of her shirt. Damn it.
“Sutton’s favorite episode,” Rhone said, referring to his best friend.
“It was so good.” Lainey’s gaze drifted to me, her eyebrow quirking slightly. “I think he’s malfunctioning.”
“What? No.” I grabbed a rag and moved toward the bar top, needing to do something to keep my attention from wandering to Lainey’s cleavage.
“I think I saw a glitch,” Rhone said, and I clenched the rag to keep from punching him in his smug face.
“Don’t you both have, I don’t know, jobs?”
“My brother’s at the store,” Lainey said. “Which means I have”—she looked at her Fitbit—“about another half hour before he eats all my samples. If you can ring me up for two bottles of Pinot Noir, I can get out of your hair.”
“You’re making your red wine chocolate cake, aren’t you?” My mouth watered just thinking about it. She had made it for several of our in-house events, and it was always a massive hit.
Her head tilted, a faint smile on her very kissable lips. “I am. A three tier for a bridal shower.”
“Big cake for a bridal shower.”
“You can never have enough cake.” She winked, and I gritted my teeth as the gesture moved right to my dick.
Rhone shot me a glare. “You want me to grab the bottles?”
“Yes, make yourself useful,” I said. Lanes shifted her bag and reached for her wallet. I held my hand up. “Don’t worry about it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “We are not doing this. Take my damn card and charge me.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I imagined swiping my tongue along the seam, begging for entrance.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”
“Nero Francis Grasso, don’t start with me.”
“I’m not starting, you’re starting.” I’d never charged Lanes for the bottles, but she probably didn’t realize since she always sent her brother. My brain shifted from her lips and curiosity poked at me. “Why didn’t you send your brother?” He worked for Lainey part-time. While she baked the cakes and met with clients, he ran the errands and did most of the deliveries.
Had she wanted to see me? An unexpected swell of heat burned in my chest.
Lainey sighed, her chin dipping into her cleavage. “The dumbass broke his wrist.”
“How the hell did he manage that?” I asked.
“Flew over his handlebars on the trail.” Rhone placed the two bottles in front of Lainey and flashed the good ol’ Grasso smile. “Said it hurt like a bitch.”
Rhone and Lainey’s brother, Austin, had been close friends since elementary school.
“Yes, so now since my brother didn’t think twice about playing Evel Knievel like a jackass, I’m left with trying to figure out how to deliver a cake to Philly tomorrow. I’d like to think I can carry it myself, but that’s not exactly realistic. Sherry offered, and you know I love her to death, but she isn’t the most graceful of souls. I can just picture her tripping over her feet and face-planting into my silky chocolate buttercream.”
“I’ll go with you.” The words burst out of me as if not giving my brain a chance to cut them off.
“You will?” Lainey and Rhone said at the same time.
“Sure.”
“Who's going to work the tasting room?” Lainey’s blue eyes drifted around the large space before settling back on me.
“Rhone.”
