“In the end, she agreed to use the right products and finish off the season. It’s only a few more weeks.” He shook his head. “I guess I went a little to town on my speech.”

“What did she make?”

“Pies, crisps…simple things.”

“Nobody bakes here?”

“No. That’s the one thing we’re missing. None of us bake—Ella and Mom both tried, but it’s not their thing. Believe me, they’ve tried. My mom’s pie crust is like cement. She even burns cookies. They follow the recipes, but nothing is ever more than passable—certainly not good enough for the restaurant. It’s a mystery as to why.”

I shrugged. “I love to bake, but I can’t make bread—it never comes out right. And my meals are pretty simple. I’m not great in the kitchen unless it involves flour and sugar.”

He chuckled. “Well, there you go. Anyway, Callie and I don’t have time between the restaurant and the store. It was the one area I hired out to a local woman.”

“I could help,” I blurted out.

“What?”

“I make a great apple-cranberry crisp. And a wicked peach-bourbon cobbler.”

“You do?”

“Like I said, I love to bake. It’s how I relax.” I often took things into the office, and they disappeared fast.

The tension left his shoulders, and his expression softened. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at his watch. “Could you get them ready to go in the oven in about ninety minutes? Is that enough time? Do you know the recipes?”

“Yes. They’re both simple as long as you have what I need.”

“What all do you need?”

I listed off the ingredients, Noah nodding the entire time.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “You want to do this?”

I nodded. “I-I’m good at it, Noah. Honest, I am.”

“I believe you.”

He grabbed the radio and called Callie, explaining what he needed. “Have Gabe bring it to the house. Dani can mix what she needs up there, and we’ll come get it and bake it when she’s done.”

He turned back to me and smiled. He leaned down and kissed me, his mouth warm against mine. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I’ll take you to my place. Callie will get the staff peeling the apples to save you time. You can clean up and start cooking.”

“Clean up?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his stare intense. “Your hair is full of dirt, Dani, and I’m pretty sure I messed up your shirt too. I guess I was trying to plant you earlier—make myself a little crop of Danis so I’d never run out.” He winked. “I thought maybe you’d like a shower. I can loan you a fresh shirt.”

My cheeks grew hot at the thought of him pressing me into the earth—the way his body felt on mine. How our mouths moved together. “Okay.”

Noah steered the golf cart up a short driveway and parked in front of a log cabin, set in an expansive clearing. Two stories high with a wide, open porch, it looked as though it belonged there. Noah led me inside, smiling as he gave me a quick tour. The front was all open, with an eat-in kitchen on one side and a large living area on the other, a huge fireplace flanking one wall. Down the hall were two bedrooms and a shared bath. He tugged me upstairs, indicating the doors on the left. “Two more bedrooms.” Then he led me to a set of double doors on the right. He looked shy as he opened them. “This is, ah, my room.”

My eyes widened as I took it in. A huge bed made of driftwood and branches dominated the room. Exposed logs and deep colors made it warm and welcoming. There was another fireplace and a large chair off to one side, a table tucked beside it, piled high with books. Double doors led to a balcony that overlooked the lush farmland. I could see other roofs in the distance, and Noah pointed out the houses belonging to his parents and siblings. “Close enough to visit, but far enough away for privacy,” he explained. “Mine is farther away than the rest of them. I like my space.”

“It’s amazing.”

“I think so.”

Stepping back inside, Noah indicated the far wall. “The bathroom and closet are there. Help yourself, and I’ll go make sure Gabe has brought everything you need.”

I slipped out of my clothes, brushing off my pants. I could re-wear those, but Noah was right. My shirt was a mess, and my hair could probably sustain a few plants with the amount of earth ground into it. I hopped into his luxurious shower and quickly washed off the dirt, admiring the enclosed space. The walls were all rock, smooth and glistening, and the floor a flat gray tile under my feet. It was large, with two shower heads, and the water felt great on my shoulders and neck. I used his shampoo, grinning as I stepped out of the shower. I smelled like him now. I dried off and quickly pulled my hair back into a ponytail so it would stay out of my face while I baked.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Erotic
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