His Tasty Cherry Pie: A Double Virgin Valentine

The blooming heat withers into a cold dread.

“Oh yeah?” I mutter as I keep my eyes and hands on the danishes.

“Everyone has someone in the family they’re not proud of,” he says softly. “The black sheep of ours is my uncle Tom on my mother’s side. Two years ago he was caught breaking into the department store on fifth avenue trying to steal a mannequin. He said he was in love with her. My mom was not pleased.”

I giggle at the thought of Lindsay finding out that her brother is the town weirdo. I’ll have to keep that one in my back pocket for the next time she starts bad-mouthing my dad.

“You have a pretty laugh.”

“Thank you.” You have a pretty everything.

“Need help with these?” he asks as he looks at my pathetic attempt at making danishes.

“Please,” I say with a laugh. “I think your mom is going to throw me in the oven if I ruin another batch.”

He smiles as he heads over to the sink and washes his hands. “She’ll have to get through me first. I’ll take care of you.”

I swallow hard as I force my eyes off him and back onto the cold dough. It would be nice having someone like him taking care of me.

“Watch closely,” he says as he takes the dough and begins to massage and mold it with his hands. My eyes are focused on his long fingers, his knuckles, his palms—everything about this guy is turning me on. I try to focus on the technique he’s showing me and not on the tempting fantasy of having those hands on my body, touching me in the same skilled way.

“Let’s start over,” he says as he takes the rolling pin and begins flattening out the dough. “You don’t want it thicker than this.”

He puts a bowl of butter in the microwave, melting it as he puts the finishing touches on the dough. His tattooed forearms are all flexed and tight as he smooths the dough out perfectly.

“I did the same thing, but mine was all lumpy.”

He smiles as he looks down at me. My toes curl inside of my shoes. “You’ll get the hang of it. It’s all in how you use your hands.”

I want to learn more about how he uses his hands when the microwave beeps. He takes the melted butter out and starts spreading a thin layer over the dough.

“Not too much,” he says as he brushes it on. “It’s just to get the cinnamon sugar to stick.”

“You’re a pro,” I say as I watch him sprinkle some raisins on and then roll it up tightly.

“I’ve been doing this since I was a toddler,” he says with a smile that lights my insides up like a hot oven. “I could roll pastries before I knew my ABCs.”

I have a big stupid goofy smile on my face as I picture this hottie as an adorable little kid with messy hair and mischievous green eyes.

“Everything smells so good,” I say as he reaches over and pulls a tray of croissants out of the oven. “How do you have abs while working here?”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at me with raised eyebrows. My stomach sinks when I realize what I just said. How stupid are you, Charlotte? Jesus.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” he says with a grin. “I do have ‘em.”

He pulls up his shirt and my mouth drops when I see a perfectly defined six-pack staring back at me. My mouth waters as I stare at it in awe.

I try to pry my eyes away from it, but I can’t. It’s got a hold on me. He has a hold on me.

“Stop showing off your stomach!” Lindsay says as she walks in and slaps the back of his head with an oven mitt. “She’s our employee! You need to act professional!”

“What?” he says with a grin and a shrug. “She asked to see them!”

Lindsay’s heated eyes dart to mine.

“I didn’t!” I quickly say as she glares at me.

The prick is laughing. I grab the oven mitt from her and slap his arm too.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Lindsay says, scolding us as we both laugh. “It’s going to be busy and I need this place to be in tip-top shape. Got it?”

“Got it,” Malcolm says, giving her a firm salute.

“I need you to be professional.”

His green eyes drift over and I swallow hard when I see him grinning at me.

He’s so freaking sexy. That fitted white shirt showing off his impressive physique, his messy hair where his mom hit him making him look so damn cute, that hard muscular ass in those black jeans… Everything about this guy is drawing me in.

I’ve never had a reaction like this before. Ever.

In my old life, I met all kinds of interesting and accomplished men. Celebrities, millionaires, billionaires, CEOs, politicians, sports stars, but none of them got my oven heating up like Malcolm has.