Alphas Confess All Read online

  “How about some company?”

  Oh, he’s tempting me—on purpose, I’m sure. I shouldn’t let him get too close…but it would be nice to have another opinion. At least that’s what I tell myself. “All right.”

  The way he smiles says he’s up to something. “By the way, our office manager, Linda, has a son who’s an associate pastor. He could probably perform the ceremony. Want me to call?”

  “Have you met him?”

  Hayden nods. “Nice guy. Young, funny. He’d be good.”

  “Sure. I’d appreciate it. Let me grab my lipstick and my wallet so we can go.”

  “My truck is blocking your rental. I’ll drive.”

  “Fine.” I disappear to gather my belongings—and my wits.

  I’m still suspicious of the reasons he’s being so helpful, but Hayden has always been the first to lend a hand to people who need it. He’s a great problem solver, a good networker, a fabulous friend, and he has an uncanny ability of convincing everyone to see things his way…

  That last trait worries me. He’s knows exactly how to push my buttons.

  By the time I reach the foyer again, he’s smiling and tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Linda’s son, Josh, is open to meeting you this evening and seeing if you’d be a good fit.”

  “Great,” I say as we head out the door. “If I can check one more thing off my list…”

  “I’ll set it up for five thirty?”

  “Perfect.”

  He sends off a text just before he unlocks the truck and opens the passenger door to help me inside. It’s a perfect Arizona day, cloudless and blue. The slight breeze ruffles my hair and my skirt. I’m drinking in the blessed sunlight. My earlier peek at Seattle’s forecast showed days of gloom and rain ahead.

  The ten-minute drive to the bakery is full of classic grunge tunes and awareness-heavy silence. Hayden steers a vehicle like he leads his life—competently, confidently, and without much apology. It’s one of the things that most attracts me to him. He doesn’t spend a lot of time second-guessing himself. If he gets something wrong, he just fixes it.

  Is that what he’s trying to do with me?

  When he opens my door and holds out his palm, I realize we’ve arrived.

  I attempt to brace myself before I put my hand in his, but it’s useless. Hayden’s impact on my restraint is nuclear. Trying not to be affected by him is like trying not to notice a mountain directly in my path.

  Impossible.

  When our fingers touch, I shudder. It’s pathetic. And his little grin tells me he knows I’m not immune.

  I slam the car door and head for the bakery. “Don’t gloat.”

  “Not wasting time with that. Are you even going to try convince me that he satisfies you in bed or are you just going to cede that point to me?”

  “What we do in bed is none of your business.”

  From behind, he grabs my shoulders and presses my back against his chest, hard from years of physical labor. There’s absolutely no missing the singe of his firm fingers on my skin or the press of his steely erection against my ass.

  It’s all I can do not to melt against him.

  “Stop it.” I mean the protest to come out forcefully. It’s totally breathy instead.

  God, it’s been four awful years since he turned me down. Why can’t I get over this man?

  “Give me a chance to make you feel so much better,” he whispers into my ear.

  I don’t dare. “We’re here to focus on cakes. If you have sex on the brain, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

  “When you’re around, I always have sex on the brain.” He opens the door to the shop for me, revealing a long glass case full of sugary temptations under a fascinating floral ceiling painted in a wash of white, grays, and pale pink. “But I’ll be a good boy while we’re here.”

  His words do crazy things to my equilibrium. For years, I’ve fantasized about being naked with Hayden, about his large, capable hands gripping my hips as he pushes his way inside me and makes me his for the first time.

  With his hot palm settling on the small of my back as he ushers me into the cool, white interior and sets my good sense ablaze isn’t a good time to think about that.

  I should resist baiting him. I should…and yet I send a quelling glare his way. “Zip it. I already know you’re all talk.”

  Hayden laughs, something low and throaty and totally self-satisfied. “Oh, princess, I’ll be happy to show you how wrong you are. All you have to do is ditch the deadbeat, and I’ll be all over you all the time. And I won’t just fuck you until you have an orgasm. That’s too easy. I’ll fuck you until I’ve imprinted myself on your soul.”

  He’s already managed that without ever touching me.

  But I’m saved from replying when a competent thirty-something blonde wearing a French twist and a smile appears from the back of the bakery to stand under a modern chandelier. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Perrie Atkins.”

  She smiles and shakes my hand. “My last-minute bride. Welcome. I’m Misty, the owner.” Then she turns her attention to Hayden and sticks out her arm in a professional greeting. “And you must be the impatient fiancé. What was your name?”

  “Hayden.” He doesn’t correct her presumption that he’s my groom.

  “Actually—”

  “We’re really eager to taste cakes today and check one more thing off our list.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against him. “Aren’t we, princess?”

  I’m not sure what the devil he’s up to, pretending I’ll be marrying him this weekend. But instead of making a scene about something that doesn’t matter, I shrug him off. “I really don’t have a flavor in mind, like I said on the phone. So I’m eager to try some samples and make decisions today.”

  “I’m glad I can squeeze you in. Since your cake only needs to feed thirty or less…”

  “The event will be really intimate,” Hayden cuts in.

  “And I want the cake to reflect that. It should be simple but elegant. I found some things I like on Pinterest.”

  “Perfect. That will help. If you’ll show me your pictures, I’ll get your tasting tray ready.

  When she disappears, I reach for my phone and launch the picture-based social media app, all too aware of Hayden beside me. “You let her think you’re my fiancé.”

  “You didn’t correct her.”

  “Not worth the argument. She only cares about the cake.”

  “Would you be more excited about this weekend if you were marrying me?”

  I turn to him, mouth agape. “Why would you even ask that question?”

  “Fine. I won’t make you answer that aloud when I already know the answer.”

  “You don’t. That’s so far out of the realm of possibility…”

  “Is it?”

  He’s actually suggesting there’s an alternate universe in which he and I would be joining hands in a few days and exchanging till-death-do-us-part vows?

  “Here we go.” Misty returns with a giant baking sheet lined with nearly a dozen beautifully frosted petite cupcakes and two bottles of chilled water. She sets it on a wide desk tucked in the corner and motions us to the chairs in front. “Would you like me to walk you through the flavors?”

  “Please.”

  “On the left is our most popular type for weddings, white. I can serve that with an almond cream filling that’s deliciously light or we can go with something fruitier like strawberry or raspberry, which will also add some visual panache to your cake. Down the row, I’ve got red velvet, chocolate, lemon, carrot, pink champagne, coconut, marble…”

  After she goes on about each and tells me all the available fillings, I’m reeling. I thought this would be a simple matter of telling her what I wanted the cake to look like and picking a flavor that most people should enjoy. But like with everything I’ve run into while planning this event, the selections are more complicated than I thought.

  “Do you have specif
ic recommendations?”

  “They’re all good. It’s just a matter of personal preference. I brought you one of everything to taste.”

  “Hayden is allergic to coconut,” I blurt, then get annoyed with myself. Will he even eat the cake?

  “I’m glad you told me. Let’s remove that sample.” Misty plucks one of the mini cupcakes out of the middle of the line. “Once you pick the cake flavor, we’ll test some fillings. I’ll pull any with coconut, so you don’t need to worry.”

  “Thanks.” Hayden smiles like he’s totally enjoying himself.

  “Of course.” Misty nods like she’s ready to get down to business. “If you’re still not sure where to start, maybe you can tell me some of your favorite desserts.”

  “My girl loves a sinful bread pudding,” Hayden offers.

  He remembers that?

  Misty nods enthusiastically. “Me, too. The Capital Grille—”

  “Has the best, right?”

  “Definitely. Oh, my gosh…”

  “But Perrie is really all about the ice cream, the lighter and creamier the better.”

  “That’s helpful. Do you like the fruity flavors, the more traditional ones, or—”

  “The unusual ones,” he puts in for me. “We found a place once that made a lemon biscotti flavor that had her groaning the whole time she was eating it. We didn’t have any alone time that evening, so it made for a long damn night.”

  I stare at him, wide-eyed. That night, shortly before my high school graduation, is etched into my brain—and only in part because of the amazing ice cream. I remember being days away from turning eighteen and so, so aware of Hayden as a man, of wanting him until I ached and hating the fact he didn’t see me as anything but a child. “That’s not true.”

  “You loved that ice cream.”

  “I meant the way you felt about me.”

  “I had you fooled.” He smiles. “I won’t embarrass Misty with the thousand and one filthy things I thought that night. I’ll tell you later.”

  My cheeks turn unmistakably hot. They match the rest of my body, which flashes with need.

  I squirm in my chair, not daring to say a word.

  Misty clears her throat, looking amused. “We can start with the lemon. I’ve got a biscotti-flavored filling I can add if you’re partial to that flavor combination…”

  Over the next twenty minutes, Misty and I chat about cake flavors in between testing each delectable bite. Beside me, I’m aware of Hayden licking frosting from his lips and watching me with an unnerving stare.

  “I don’t think the carrot cake is for me,” I say.

  “That was marble.” Hayden’s smirk says he knows he’s rattling me.

  “Oh, sorry.” I smile at Misty to cover the awkward moment.

  “Not at all. It’s a lot of flavors at once. I may have saved the best for last…”

  Before I can reach for the final confection, Hayden plucks it from the tray, unwraps the paper from the spongy cake, and breaks it in half. One piece he plops in his mouth with a groan. The other he holds inches from my lips. I rear back, silently insisting I can feed myself.

  He cups my nape and pulls me closer. “Open up.”

  Swearing I’m going to get him back for this subterfuge and forced intimacy, I accept the bite. The second the cake hits my tongue, it melts into the most delicate sweetness balanced with a teeny hint of tart from the cream cheese frosting.

  I groan. “I’m in heaven. What is that?”

  “Pink champagne.”

  “Wow.” I’m in love.

  “This is spectacular. But I know how it could taste better.” Hayden swipes his thumb across the corner of my mouth and comes away with a few crumbs and a dollop of frosting. I watch, unblinking and breathless, as he sets the digit in the middle of his tongue, closes his lips around it, and groans. “Now it’s perfect.”

  Heat coalesces and sharpens into an insistent ache between my legs I can’t pretend I don’t feel.

  When I realize Misty is staring, I swallow and try to find two coherent words to string together. “What kind of filling do you recommend with that?”

  The baker looks amused. “Probably vanilla or almond. Both are good. Almond is a bit more unexpected and less sweet.” She reaches around to find a sample, then sets two little paper cups with a tiny plastic tasting spoon in front of me, then does the same for Hayden.

  As we dip the small utensils into the samples, then onto our tongues, a look tells me we’re on the same page.

  “Almond, for sure,” I tell Misty.

  “I agree.”

  It’s startling to realize that Hayden and I just agreed on a wedding cake flavor together—after he practically ate some off my lips. It’s so intimate…so couplish. And when he drops his hand to my thigh with a smile for Misty, I’m reeling—with confusion, with desire.

  Abruptly, I stand. “I think we’re good here. You know the cake size.”

  “I didn’t get a good look at your Pinterest board.”

  “I’ll send you a link.” I’m eager to escape…until I realize I’ll be all alone with Hayden in the small cab of his truck with nothing but a mere eighteen inches separating us.

  If he touches me again, how am I going to resist him? Worse, what does my weakness bode for my future?

  Suddenly, Hayden takes my hand in his and seems all too happy to hustle me outside. “Thanks for your help, Misty. We’ll look for you on Saturday at nine a.m.”

  “I see a lot of brides and grooms, so I have a sense of who will make it. You two belong together. It seems like you know each other really well, but still tease and have plenty of fire. It’s a good recipe for success.” She smiles and waves. “See you this weekend.”

  Is that something she says to all the couples who come through the door? I don’t think so. Misty seems professional, yes. But pretty dang honest, too.

  Could Hayden and I be happily married?

  I shouldn’t even consider the idea…but it’s hard not to.

  The minute the door closes behind us, I’m overwhelmed by the nagging worry that I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve for him to see. And if Derek could read my thoughts now, what would he say?

  “There’s no need to put on an act for Misty anymore.” I glance back to verify we’re around the corner, then tug my hand from his.

  He grabs it again and pulls me closer. “Who says I’m acting?”

  Before I can object, he swipes at my bottom lip with his thumb again, a slow, sensual sweep that leaves me tingling, weak-kneed, and desperate.

  “Hayden…”

  He doesn’t answer, just drops his stare to my lips, which automatically part to welcome him. His eyes darken. Intent stamps his face.

  He’s going to kiss me.

  I should push him away, say no. I know that.

  But this may be the only time in my life I’ll ever know what it feels like when Hayden Hughes voluntarily kisses me like a woman. How can I pass it up?

  “God, that look. You’re killing me.” His rough voice sounds strained.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your eyes. They’re eating me up.” He rakes an agitated hand through his hair. “You need to be kissed by someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing—and clearly that isn’t Derek.”

  “I’m engaged.” And when I’m this close to Hayden, I really don’t care.

  His dark eyes drill into my soul. “To the wrong man. Give me one good reason not to kiss you.”

  I should have a million…but I can’t think of one.

  From the purse dangling on my shoulder, my phone rings, disturbing the moment. I can’t decide whether I’m furious or grateful for the distraction. A glance at the screen tells me it’s Derek.

  “Hi,” I say as I pull the device free.

  Can he hear my voice shaking?

  “I’m really sorry about the cake tasting. Did you already pick a flavor?”

  “We did. We’re just leaving.”

  “We?”

/>   I hesitate. “Hayden came with me so I’d have a second opinion.”

  “I’ll bet that’s not the only reason,” Derek mutters.

  It’s not, and what am I supposed to say? “We’re on our way back for dinner. Did you finish work for the day?”

  “About that…” The grimace in his voice is impossible to miss. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have to go to Seattle?” I don’t really have to guess. This isn’t my first rodeo with his last-minute business trips.

  “There’s a flight that leaves at seven tonight. I have to be on it. I’ll be back Saturday morning.”

  Is he kidding? “That’s the day of the wedding!”

  “I know. I feel horrible. But this is my entire future…”

  I close my eyes and do some mental math. If we have to push the ceremony out a few hours it’s possible, just ridiculous. “What time will you be back?”

  “There’s a flight that leaves Seattle at six a.m. I’ll be back at your dad’s house with time to spare before the ceremony at noon.”

  What if the plane is late?

  There’s no sense in asking him. He doesn’t have an answer.

  I try to tamp down my disappointment and be supportive. He’s doing his best. “Be safe. Hope everything goes well. I’ll see you just before the ceremony.”

  “You will. I’ll come through.” He pauses. “Call me with any updates.”

  “Will do.”

  Then I hear three beeps and the connection goes silent.

  I don’t even have to look up to see Hayden’s condemnation. Of course he overheard everything.

  “He’s leaving you the week of your wedding, and he doesn’t even have the balls to tell you that he loves you before he goes.” Hayden shakes his head. “You need to think really hard before you say I do. Because I’m pretty sure it won’t be long before you’re calling an attorney and starting your life over.”

  “Don’t do this.” I march toward his truck, more than ready to go home and crawl into bed with a bottle of wine.

  Hayden wraps his fingers around my elbow and pulls me against his body. “Don’t what, be honest?”

  “Don’t get in my head.”

  “Someone’s got to stop you from making this mistake.”

  “This wedding is already planned. What would you have me do?”