Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2), Katana Collins [ebook smartphone .TXT] 📗

being anything tangible that most days, I just gave up on it.

“You should do it,” Chloe said. “Bringing a food truck to Maple Grove would be really smart. Especially parking around the public lakes and parks… there’s no easily walkable food in that area. You’d probably make a killing serving lunch there.”

I pressed my lips into a firm line. “Maybe.” Problem was, I didn’t have a desire to provide meals… or lunch… or lobster rolls to New England tourists. Baking was my passion. Always was, even in culinary school.

“At least you have a job,” Chloe sulked, sinking into the couch. “I quit mine when I got engaged. Dan convinced me I didn’t need to work and that we could live off his salary.”

I scrunched my nose, grateful for the topic change, but also more than a little surprised at her admission. “Did you want to quit working?”

She shrugged. “I like marketing and events planning. But planning my wedding was sort of like my job in a way. I think I convinced myself it would be fun to take that time off. Now look at me.”

“Well… you’ll interview for jobs, and I’m sure you’ll get something insanely cool. I mean, look at you. Who wouldn’t want you doing their marketing and events?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. But she sounded about as convinced as I was about my food truck idea. We were quite the self-loathing pair.

I tugged my phone free and sent a text to my younger brother, Finn.

I’m helping Elaina’s sister tonight and it’s getting late with no end in sight. Can you open the bakery without me in the morning?

His response came back almost immediately.

I got you covered. I just have to leave by noon. I’ve got an appointment.

Finn had an appointment somewhere? His use of that word specifically struck a chord in me. If it was lunch or hanging with a friend, he usually says ‘plans.’ My kid brother hadn’t held down a job in his entire life. Even still, it was none of my business. Especially since he was doing me the favor. Thanks, bro. I’ll be there well before noon to set you free, I texted him back.

His response was almost instant. Perfect. Have fun. ;)

I swallowed my groan.

No… no winky faces. Just helping out a friend.

I read the word again. Friend. It rolled around in my mouth. Like the first sip from a new bottle of wine, I tried to decide if I liked the flavor or not.

Friend. I glanced down at where Chloe was now laying against me, her soft cheek pressed into my chest. Her body twitched as she laughed at one of the lines from the first scene.

Was that what we were becoming? Friends?

12:03 a.m.

Baaaaaarf!

I knelt behind Chloe, holding her long, mermaid hair back from her face while she emptied her stomach of the three cupcakes and half a bottle of tequila into the toilet.

I rubbed my free hand over her back in circles the way my mom used to do for me when I was sick.

With a final dry heave, she fell back on her knees, leaning against the wall. I handed her a wet washcloth, which she wiped at her mouth. One of her fake eyelashes had come loose and was hanging off of her eye.

Forcing myself not to laugh or even smile, I reached over and pulled it free from her eye. “Is this the sort of thing you’re supposed to make a wish and blow?”

She rolled her eyes, but still smiled, not seeming to be embarrassed at all by the fake eyelash resting on my finger. “That’s for a single, real lash. And birthday candles.”

“Ah. Silly me.”

I set the lashes on the bathroom counter, then wiped my fingers tenderly beneath her eyes, trying to help clean up the makeup that was now smeared there. She swallowed, her soft gaze landing on mine as I brushed my knuckle down her jaw.

“There,” I whispered. “Beautiful, as always.”

With a clumsy hand, she pointed up at the sink. “Can you hand me my toothbrush?”

“Think you’re ready for bed?” I stood and grabbed the toothbrush, wetting it and putting a little toothpaste on it before handing it to Chloe.

She brushed her teeth as I helped her to her feet, bracing her elbows to help her lean over the sink. She spat, then rinsed her mouth with the running tap water. “Can we watch another movie in bed?”

“I-I don’t know if that’s such a good idea—”

“Oh, come on. I’m not asking you to sleep with your penis in my vagina. I’m just asking if we can watch another movie in a different area of my house together. Best friends do that, you know. They have sleepovers.”

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully. “I didn’t agree to be your best friend.”

She tossed her toothbrush onto the sink and walked past me into her bedroom. “Not yet, but you will.”

12:57 a.m.

Damn, this is a comfy bed. What the hell are these sheets made out of? Silk? Satin? Heroin?

Chloe was curled on her side in the fetal position. Her breathing was steady and deep, and she made the most adorable sighing sounds every few breaths. Somewhere between Elle Woods moving to Boston and her getting the Callahan internship, she must have fallen asleep.

My arm was draped over her and she was tucked into me. I tried my damnedest not to think about how well we fit. We were big spoon and little spoon personified.

But Chloe Dyker didn’t need a big spoon right now. She needed a friend. A best friend, apparently. She’d said so several times that night.

As quietly as I could manage, I unlatched my fingers from where hers threaded between mine and rolled away, wincing as the bed squeaked with my movement.

She stirred beside me, rolling on her back and rubbing at her puffy eyes. “Liam?”

My spine went stiff. “Shhh,” I whispered. “It’s late. Go back to sleep.”

She was sitting upright now, her eyes wide. “Are you leaving?”

“I…” To be honest, I was