Let's Bake A Deal: Belli & the Beat, #1

CHAPTER ONE

As Eva took the trash out at the end of her business day, her phone dinged. No one should be texting her at four in the morning. It was almost time for her to crawl into bed and have the sandman’s sleep.

After heaving the bag into the dumpster with a grunt, she took her phone out of her back pocket. Her instinct was right. This was not the kind of message that she wanted to get. The sex educator she’d hired to start a lecture series at her shop had unceremoniously quit on her without so much as a by your leave.

If Eva were a boxer, she’d pummel a speed bag to let out her aggression at being left in a last-minute lurch. Taking a calming breath instead, she smelled the sugary delight of Belli’s Bakery, the store situated next to hers.

In the year since she’d been in business, the bakery had always smelled good, but something changed in the last six weeks to make it even more tempting. Eva didn’t know what it was, but maybe she should visit the bakery. That was what good neighbors did. Except that she ran a sex shop, and the man who ran the bakery always scowled at her whenever he saw her.

It wasn’t Eva’s fault that the zoning had allowed their shops to be neighbors. Eva thought the downtown location was quaint and would help her professional ambitions. She wanted to have a sex-positive shop that was inviting to the community instead of one on the outskirts of town like a shameful secret.

The back door of the bakery swung open, and out strode a man in a glittering halo of light and sugar. Sweet Morpheus, as he got closer to her, Eva noticed several things about him at once. First, he looked like a sexy bartender. The kind she’d flirt with all night when she was getting her bachelor’s degree but never got to take home when the night was over. She was no prude, which was good given her current enterprise, but sexy bartenders never went home with Eva.

Second, the man was about 5’9 or 5’10 with spiky, dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. He had a disgruntled expression on his face and a look in his eyes like a soldier who’d seen things. Things that would mess you up.

Of all the trash piles in all the world, what brings you to this one? Eva hoped it sounded like a line from Casablanca, not that she’d ever seen the Bogart movie to know for sure.

Employees didn’t take out the trash before closing yesterday, he said with a grunt as he tossed the trash.

This close it was easier to see he wore chef’s pants in a houndstooth pattern with a drawstring waist and a white t-shirt. The pants were fire-resistant for safety, but they were also hideously ugly. Eva wanted to tell him they needed to go in the bin next to their respective bags of trash. Then there was the flirty part of her brain that wanted to tell him the pants would look better on the floor beside her bed. She’d never been good at picking up strangers, though, and they did have to get along as employees of neighboring shops.

Can’t train ’em. Can’t fire ’em, Eva said. Well, you can... But if your business is like mine, you also can’t find very many reliable people to work for you.

She looked down at the phone in her hand, shook her head again with annoyance at the loss of her sex educator, and stuffed the phone in her back pocket. The first year of business had a reputation for being a tough one, but Eva didn’t want to close before she could try to succeed.

I’m Eva Stephens, she said to get introductions out of the way. The Love Shack is mine.

The store’s name was the first thing that had popped into her mind when she closed a quick sale on the property. It wasn’t necessarily a great name, but she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Her twin brother, Adam, had offered several names after she got her business running, but it was already too late.

Unfortunate name, the baker said, looking over at the back of her adult store.

Mine or the shop’s? she asked.

Eva and Adam’s parents thought they were completely clever for naming their twins as they did. They probably never thought about the teasing the two of them would have to endure in school.

Your store, he answered, his eyes still on the back of her shop. I've been getting that B-52s song stuck in my head every morning for the last six weeks when I’m doing opening prep.

"A-ha! So you’re the reason everything has smelled better lately. She couldn’t help grinning at solving that one small riddle. What’s your name? Something-something Belli?"

Remo, he replied.

You’re serious? Eva burst out laughing. Your name is actually Remo Belli?

She had to tell Adam about this. Eva had seen the name Remo on the drumheads for Adam’s drum kit. When she’d asked about the name, he’d given her a long dissertation on Remo Belli, the inventor of the mylar drumhead. According to Adam, he’d changed the industry. According to Eva, he had a euphonious name, the same one as the man standing in front of her.

Ah, right, Remo said, taking a step back from her. I take it you’re a drummer.

No, but my twin brother plays, she said, the mirth of the moment distracting her from the annoyance of having to hire a new sex educator.

While she was talking, Remo rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders. His slight frown of pain enhanced his tense expression.

Do you have any other siblings? he asked.

Nope, just the two of us. My parents are in South Carolina, and Adam is off gigging somewhere. So I’m here by myself.

This was not, Eva realized, a smart thing to admit to a stranger in a back alley. He looked at her askance as if also surprised that she’d let her tongue wag so freely.

There are five of us, he said with a groan, his hand still on his neck. If it was only me and Stephanie, life would be much easier.

Are you also a twin? Eva put her hand on her hip and smiled at him.

No, but she’s my favorite, Remo said before standing straighter and stretching out his back. Nice to meet you, Eva. I should go back inside. Those breads and cakes aren’t going to bake themselves.

"Do they knead you?" She mimed the action of manipulating dough and couldn’t hide the smile on her face.

Cute, he replied and rubbed his neck again as he turned away.

I can help you with that! When he faced her, Eva quickly sputtered, Your neck and shoulders. You look sore.

I am, but it’s just part of being a baker.

Eva winced in sympathy. I have a personal massager that would be just the right thing to help. It’s just like using a massage chair in an airport. I promise! I can bring it over if you leave the back door open.

Remo opened his mouth as if to speak but didn’t say a word as he walked into his bakery. The telling part was that the door didn’t swing all the way shut behind him. Eva took that as a sign to run back to her messy office and find the personal use massager in question. As a store owner, she had samples for demonstration and educational purposes. None of these were in her personal collection, but she was reasonably sure of what they could do.

Eva checked the charge and went to the back door of Belli’s Bakery. There was probably some perfectly dirty innuendo to go along with the situation, but she swept the thought aside as she let herself in. The industrial kitchen had lights much too bright for Eva’s comfort, and the stainless steel countertops gleamed so much they practically demanded a sound effect. The space smelled both industrial clean and food sweet.

Remo was nowhere in sight, so Eva called out his name. Nothing but an echo returned. Then the door to the walk-in refrigerator opened, and he stepped out, wearing a baker’s apron and hairnet and carrying a huge metal bowl of dough.

Hey, he said as he put the dough on the work surface. I appreciate your offer to help, but I really need to get this started. And if you’re going to be in this kitchen, you’ve got to wear a hairnet. I don’t want any random green hairs in my pastries.

Remo indicated Eva’s dark blonde hair decorated with green streaks. Then he pointed to a dispenser on the wall.

She hadn’t thought her offer to help would require protection, but Eva respected that he ran a clean business. Without protest, she strode over to the disposable hairnets and stuffed her wandering waves inside one.

Okay, ready now? Eva cautiously stepped back to him. If you’ve got tired and aching muscles, you’re not doing anyone any favors. Your baking won’t be as good as it could be.

You know that, do you? Remo smirked at her before he punched the dough, a simple act that showed off his toned arms.

I do know that. I’m a very intelligent woman, Eva said as she got in place behind him. I have a Master’s degree.

With a frown over his shoulder, Remo asked, That’s not a bondage and domination joke, is it?

No, I really do have a Master’s, Eva said quietly to the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Just stand there and let the tool do the work. Like when you use an electric mixer instead of a spoon.

Sighing as if he were sorely aggrieved by the possibility, Remo said, Fine. But don’t do anything weird.

I wouldn’t dream of it. Her voice was almost a whisper quickly absorbed by his t-shirt.

Remo worked the dough, and Eva tried to figure out what caused his muscle pain. Maybe it was habitual action because of the baking, but it could have been caused by an older injury from something else. Maybe he’d been a baseball player in high school.

Setting the massaging wand on a low speed, Eva started talking to him in her best comforting voice. I’m going to put this on your shoulders nice and easy.

She touched one side of his back with her hand and then put the wand to the opposite side of his spine. After the wand had glided over his back a few times in a gentle side-to-side motion, Remo stopped and whimpered.

I need a new mattress, he said. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I came back from Austin.

Yeah, an awful mattress would do it, especially when you had to get up at the devil’s buttcrack of dawn. Smoothing his back like she would if she were ironing a shirt, Eva asked, What were you doing in Austin?

An Associate of Applied Science in Bakery Arts degree.

Eva chuckled. Nice. I guess that makes you a smart cookie, right?

Remo’s answering groan could have been because of her pun, but it was likely the pains in his back and shoulders. While Eva was using an impressive vibrator, she might need one with more power to take care of all the knots in his muscles.

You must have done a good job because everything smells great lately, she added cheerfully as she passed the wand over Remo’s back. I’m going to change the setting to something stronger now.

He looked at her over his shoulder and nodded his consent, so Eva increased the variable rhythm on the wand. When she touched it to his shoulders again, Remo let out a soft moan.

You have a lot of tension, baker boy, she whispered as soft as a caress.

I do, yeah. He gripped the edge of the counter and pressed toward the wand like a bear scratching his back against a tree. "That’s really good. And here I thought vibrators were for just one thing."

They’re for whatever you want them to be.

Eva was happy to stay behind him. Remo seemed to carry a lot of tension in his shoulders, and she was the kind of woman who liked to help people. It