Don't Go Baking My Heart

“What could you possibly want from me?”

“I need you to put Cherisse on, please. I tried calling her, but no response.”

“She’s busy with a client. I can take a message.”

“There’s no way she can talk now?”

“Listen, I don’t know if you’re used to people being at your beck and call, but Cherisse’s time is precious. Especially since that sexy man of hers finally convinced her to go with him to St. Lucia. Have a lil’ vacation while he’s on his work trip. So she’s trying to wrap up our pending stuff.”

“Vacation?” Devon asked as if the word was a foreign concept. Perhaps it was. Devon struck her as the type of person who was allergic to fun and didn’t know the meaning of relaxation. “They haven’t even been dating that long. When are they leaving?”

“This Sunday. How do you not know this? Keiran’s going to work with a St. Lucian artiste, and he asked her to go with him.”

“I don’t get into my siblings’ business. Besides, I don’t live at the house anymore.”

Well, that was news to her. As far as Reba knew, all the King siblings lived with their mom. “You moved out?”

“Yes, right after the wedding. Not important. I need Cherisse to help me win a bake-off.”

Reba pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at the screen, then pinched herself hard. Okay, she felt that. She wasn’t dreaming.

“I’m going to need you to repeat that. Slowly.”

He sighed. “It’s a work thing. I need her to teach me to bake. I’ll pay her for her time, of course.”

“She can’t do it. Didn’t I just tell you she’s leaving Sunday?”

“Yes, I got that, but it’s only Monday. That still leaves some days. An entire week, to be precise. Surely she can make time.”

The nerve of this man. “No, she can’t. We’re busy all week.”

“You didn’t even ask her…”

“Listen, I know her schedule like the back of my ass.”

“That’s not how the saying goes,” he said, tone as dry as ever.

“I’ve inspected my ass in countless mirrors long enough to know what it looks good in. Everything, but that’s not my point. When I say she’s booked, she’s booked. But, I could totally help you because with C on vacation for the next two weeks, I’ll have some time.”

“You?”

Reba considered hanging up because Devon’s tone suggested he’d rather do anything else than accept her help. But his desperation had come through loud and clear, and Reba wasn’t above taking advantage of this situation. “Yes, me. What other choice do you have? It’s a bake-off. I bet you’re planning something easy. I can handle you.”

“I don’t need to be handled. I just need assistance.”

Oh, he was so wrong about that. Devon King needed a firm hand, someone to drag him into the light and get some fun into his life. Put a smile on that too serious, too handsome face. Reba wasn’t being vocal about that for the simple reason that Devon wouldn’t go for it. Too set in his ways. Too rigid. He might frustrate even her carefree ways with his no-fun-having self.

Although recalling the yummy picture he had made at the wedding in that suit, Reba wondered if she wouldn’t want to handle him after all. No, she was absolutely getting ahead of herself. Devon would be fun to play with and unravel, but she should stick to business, not potential pleasure.

“Well, I’m offering my help, especially since you’ll definitely not win this thing on your own.” Devon paused for so long, Reba wondered if he’d hung up, but the call was still going. “Take it or leave it. Oh, and to be clear, I’m not doing it for free.”

She was all for doing favours, but she had too many friends and family members who thought she was obligated to do things for them sans payment.

Silence greeted her. He still hadn’t hung up—the call was still connected. “Hello?”

“Still here. Why do you think I can’t do this on my own?”

Reba laughed. “You wouldn’t be calling otherwise. I have no doubt you’re good at a lot, but the scent of desperation is strong here. Have you ever baked a thing in your life?”