Luscious - Lexi Blake Page 0,67
woman reach through time and offer her kindness, asking her to be patient with her boy, to give him what he truly needed. Love. Somehow, someway this book was meant for her. She was the next in line. Macon might be an artist, but she would be the one to cook for their children.
She wiped her eyes and selected a recipe. Snickerdoodles. They would be a good start. She found the ingredients and got to work.
CHAPTER NINE
Macon stared at the pie on the counter. It was the sixth offering this week. It sat there with its slightly crooked lattice crust. She was impatient with it. That type of crust required a very precise hand. The presentation was less than perfect and he couldn’t help but want a taste.
But then he also wanted a taste of the woman who had made it.
Why the hell wouldn’t she leave him alone?
“Oh, what do we have today?” Jake was straightening his tie as he entered the kitchen. His eyes had immediately gone to the counter.
“Apple,” Serena said as she offered Jake a mug of coffee. “It was still warm when Macon brought it in so I think she’s having trouble sleeping.”
Was she sitting up all night baking?
Jake took the mug from her and his free hand wound around her waist, pulling her close. “I don’t know about that. All I know is while Ally makes a mean pie, it’s not yours, baby. You’ve got the best pie in the entire world and I can never get enough of it.”
He took his wife’s mouth in a hungry kiss.
And Macon rolled his eyes because Serena didn’t bake. The last week had been a horrible trial. Living with his brother, Jake, and Serena meant continually watching either Jake or Adam trying to get into their wife’s pants. They were like horny teenage boys. And Tristan pooped a lot. The kid was cute, but damn he could stink up a room, and half the time Macon was left holding a grinning baby with a diaper full of poo because the three of them were getting it on now that they had a babysitter. They’d treated him like glass that first night, but after two days of tiptoeing around him, his family seemed to figure out that double penetration was way easier when someone was watching the baby and Uncle Macon was put to work.
He’d spent most of his time sitting with Tristan and talking about Ally. That kid knew more about his relationship with Ally than anyone should. Luckily, he just drooled a lot and tried to eat his own fist.
This was what he was reduced to. His only confidant was a baby and the woman of his dreams was a yard away making dessert after dessert and leaving it on his doorstep. He’d woken up the morning after he’d discovered her lie and there had been a plate of cookies waiting for him. She’d wrapped it in foil with a note. For Macon.
Nothing else. He hadn’t touched them. He’d brought them in and put them on the counter and walked away. When he’d gotten to work and found her there, he’d ignored her completely. He’d kept his head down and done his job and she’d done hers. She hadn’t sought him out, hadn’t come by his station. The one time they’d locked eyes accidently, she’d given him the saddest smile like she’d known he wasn’t playing her games anymore.
He’d gotten a ride with Eric and thought it was all over.
He’d been greeted the next day with a vanilla cake with simple chocolate frosting. For Macon.
How much did she think he ate?
“Hey, you two. How about I get in on that action?” Adam was carrying Tristan as he entered the kitchen. He looked down at the counter. “Nice. I’ll take that up to the office. Ian is starting to think this argument between you and Ally is the best thing to happen to him.”
McKay-Taggart was benefitting from the end of what had to be the shortest engagement in history. Adam or Jake simply picked up whatever he left on the counter and took it to work and put the pie or cake or cookies in the break room where it was devoured by hungry agents.
Jake stepped back and took Tristan from Adam, hauling the baby up and giving him kisses that had him giggling at his dad. “Ian wants to put in a request for more lemon.”
“Ian can bite me,” Macon said, his surliness showing. He wasn’t going