It wasn’t unusual for everybody in the family to talk about everybody else. Becca guessed that’s why Van and Tanner had sworn her to secrecy about their pregnancy.
“He doesn’t like me. Said I had a sweet tooth.”
Van looked like she was biting down a grin. “Of course he likes you. Everybody likes you.”
“Who doesn’t like Becca?” Tanner asked, leaning over Van so his face was looming large on the screen.
“Nobody,” Becca muttered. The last thing she needed was for her brothers to get wind of her meeting with Daniel. She wouldn’t put it past them to go to the distillery heavy handed and strong arm him into apologizing. The thought of it was mortifying.
“This is girl talk,” Van said, snatching her phone back from Tanner. “I thought you were watching football.”
“End of the second quarter.” Tanner smirked. “Come on, who’ve you upset, Bec? Want me to beat them up?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Van said, rolling her eyes at her husband. “And if she did, she’d ask Cam first. He’s got way more muscles than you.”
“Hey, I resent that.” Tanner pouted.
“You’re the brains of the family,” Van murmured, inclining her head to kiss Tanner’s lips. “That’s why I love you.” She looked back at Becca. “And you’re the heart. Don’t let this get you down. You’ll have him eating out of your hands in no time, I promise.”
“Who’ll be eating out of her hands?” Tanner frowned. “I don’t want any guy touching Becca’s hands. Especially not with his mouth.”
“One of the engineers at work asked me to make him a cake for his wife,” Becca said quickly. “I forgot to confirm it with him. It’s all good.”
“Oh.” Tanner looked bored. “Okay. I thought it might be juicier than that.”
Becca shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint.”
The timer pinged, telling her that the first batch of scones were ready. “I gotta go. My scones are ready.”
“If there’s any of those left tomorrow evening, I could probably stomach one,” Van said, giving Becca a hopeful smile.
“I’ll drop some around on my way home from work.” Becca blew her a kiss. “I’ll speak to you later. Take care of growing that baby.”
“Love you.” Van ended the call, and Becca slid her hands into her oven mitts, pulling the golden brown drop scones out of the oven. The smell of mature cheese and pastry filled her nostrils and made her stomach growl, reminding her she’d not eaten tonight.
Pulling off a chunk, she blew on it, before putting it in her mouth. It was fluffy on her tongue, but also deep and savory. It made her stomach growl with delight.
Sweet tongue? Ha! She’d show Daniel. Maybe she’d even leave one of these little babies on his desk. What guy didn’t like being baked for?
Miserable ones, with faces like thunder, that’s who. Ugh, she really wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.
Chapter Five
She hadn’t even gotten to work yet, but it was already turning out to be a very bad day. It started with sleeping through her alarm. She’d set it thirty minutes earlier than usual, determined that today would be the day when she actually did some YouTube yoga before work. She’d arrive all relaxed and limber and Daniel Carter’s jibes would bounce off her like a tennis ball on a trampoline.
Great plan. Except her body decided that six-thirty was way too early to do anything but turn over and keep snoring, as she drooled onto her pillowcase. So when she finally opened her eyes, she had to make a breathless dash to the shower. Then, with one towel wrapped around her hair and the other around her body, she yanked open the closet door to discover she didn’t have a clean polo shirt to wear.
Monday night was laundry night. Yet she’d spent yesterday evening covered in flour and fuming about Daniel’s description of her sweet tongue.
Yanking clothes to the floor, she eventually found a clean white blouse. She had no white lingerie to go with it, but at the bottom of her drawer she found a black lace bra that would have to do. The blouse was thick enough for the undergarment not to show through too much.
The parking lot was half full when she’d arrived. She pulled into a space near the front entrance and rushed around to the trunk, sighing when she saw the scone box had turned over and slid to the back. It was her fault – she’d taken a couple of corners way too fast in her haste to get to work on time. Gritting her teeth, she rolled onto her tiptoes, her fingers outstretched to gain purchase on the box.
And then she heard a pop.
She froze in place and looked down at her blouse. The top button had flown off, landing on the black interior of her trunk. The fabric gaped o
pen, revealing the scalloped lace edge of her bra as it barely covered the swell of her breasts.