Sticky Situations (American Heroes Book 3) Read online

  Sticky Situations

  Tory Baker

  Contents

  1. Travis

  2. Raelynn

  3. Travis

  4. Raelynn

  5. Travis

  6. Raelynn

  7. Travis

  8. Raelynn

  9. Travis

  10. Raelynn

  11. Travis

  12. Raelynn

  13. Travis

  14. Raelynn

  15. Travis

  16. Raelynn

  17. Travis

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Tory Baker

  Copyright © 2020 by Tory Baker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited By: Diamond in the Rough Editing

  Cover Design By: Yoly with Cormar Covers

  Created with Vellum

  “As sure as the vine

  Twines 'round the stump

  You're my darling sugar lump.”

  ― Miska Petersham

  1

  Travis

  I didn’t think I’d be rolling into town this soon. Who am I kidding? There were days, months, and even years when all I wanted to do was retire as a Navy Seal, but something about finishing out this last deployment had me thinking, what if I want to find what my baby sister found? But I couldn’t because I was busy working on a career. The dollar-bill signs were all I could see. Truth be told, I was blinded until I came back to help rescue my sister with her now boyfriend—and one of my only friends.

  It’s also why I didn’t let anyone know I was coming home. My sister and I are still on rocky ground, and I’m man enough to admit that I fucked up. It didn’t mean our relationship was back to normal right away. Though, that’s probably why, when I was driving down the road, my car drove on autopilot to “Sweet Treats”. If I’m going to show up on Taylor and Slade’s doorstep unannounced, I at least better not come empty handed. Taylor’s sweet tooth runs in the family. From an early age, anytime we could afford something with that taste of sweetness, she and I would split it in half, devouring it whole.

  I park my rented SUV in the designated parking spot for Cake ‘n’ Bake, stretching my body after I get out. I came into town yesterday, but debriefing sure took its time. It seemed longer than usual. Though that could be because I’m not re-upping my contract. The long flight, the even longer meeting, it’s taken its toll on my body. Hell, I’m still in the clothes I came home in. After I get something for Taylor and say my hello’s, I’m going to find some place to crash for a solid twenty-four hours.

  When I open the door to walk into the bakery, I’m taken aback. There appears to be six or seven children all sitting at the counter, chattering away while each of them seems to be mixing or frosting the concoction they have in front of them. I wonder if there’s a class here, or maybe they’re the owner’s children. With this being summertime, maybe this is how he or she entertains their children.

  I step further inside. My eyes take in the bubblegum-colored walls and the fifties-style table and chairs made of chrome with white accents. The black and white checkered floors help tie it together. The whole shop is reminiscent of that era. There’s even a refrigerator that matches the décor perfectly.

  “Miss. Rae-Rae, there’s someone here,” a little kid squeals out, announcing my presence. He turns around. His toothy smile, messy hair, and frosting on his cheek have my own lips turning upward. I guess that tells me these aren’t the shop owner’s children.

  “I’ll be right out, Jayden,” I hear a voice that sounds like a melody on a summer night when there’s a bonfire going while someone is playing a guitar and singing sweetly.

  “No rush,” I let all of them know. I’m still standing in the entryway, soaking it all in. The kids look over their shoulders every once in a while, but for the most part they are entrenched in their baking and decorating.

  “Sorry about that,” I hear from what I’m assuming is the owner of the bakery says as she’s walking towards me. Her strawberry-blonde hair is up and out of her face, a blue bandana thing holding it back—except for the pieces of hair that are like bangs but swept to the side. Her smile is bright, and it shows that it’s genuine when her crystal-blue eyes sparkle. Damn, they’re so blue it’s like looking into the waters off of Puerto Rico. The place that is my one solace when I do get a vacation once every few years. She is wearing a dress that’s form fitting on top, accentuating her figure. I bet her breasts are more than a handful. I find my mouth watering at the thought of having them in my hands while I lick, nip, and kiss every inch of them, teasing her until my lips close around her nipples. Her trim waist that flows out to hips that were meant for hands to grab and squeeze give way to her shapely legs. Too bad her dress isn’t shorter. I’d really get to see how they look, and then I could fantasize what they’d feel like wrapped around me. My gaze moves down to her feet, and fuck, I’m completely fucked with those shoes she has on. All they do is elongate her legs, which makes me want to see her naked wearing nothing but those shoes. Though I’m not sure how she bakes wearing them.

  “No problem. I’m Travis.” I hold my hand out, waiting for her to place hers in my own.

  “Raelynn, owner and baker of Cake ‘n’ Bake.” Her smile is still on her face. Her soft hand is a contradiction to my work-roughened ones.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Our hands linger, neither of us ready to let the other go.

  “Miss Rae-Rae, will you help me?” a little girl asks, causing us to break our connection.

  “Excuse me for a moment. You happened to come in during the summer baking class I offer. Take a look around, and I’ll be right back.” Raelynn leaves. I watch her the entire time, taking her in from behind. It’s a good thing I have a semblance of control, or I’d drag her out of here like a caveman and have my wicked way with her. With that thought in mind, I head to the display case.

  2

  Raelynn

  I forgot to put the closed sign on. Again. I’ve been doing that every week for the past month. Cake ‘n’ Bake puts on a class during the summer that allows all age groups to come in and work on their baking and decorating skills. This age though, it has to be my favorite. The five- to seven-year-olds are the easiest to work with, mainly because they’re just here for fun. Nothing has to be perfect, and they get to create something they can take back to their loved one.

  This week though, I’ve never been more thankful for being forgetful. Travis is one tall glass of water. He looks like he just came from working on the nearby base. His hair is cut close against his head, but not quite in a military style either. He has dark eyes, darker than the dark chocolate I carry in the shop. The way his lips quirked up when he saw me coming his way gave way to the delicious lines that surround his mouth and eyes. His shoulders are broad, and he has a tapered waist, but his legs… They are big and hold his tall frame in just the right way. Not to mention his skin. It’s tanned, so tan, in fact, I wonder if it’s from his heritage or the sun shining down on a normal day. The black cotton s
hirt he’s wearing molds to his form, showing me just how delicious his body is.

  I knock my thoughts of Travis out of my head as I stand beside one of the little girls who are here today. “How can I help you, Mia?”

  “I can’t get the icing to stay on my cake. Look!” She holds her hands toward the small round cake the kids helped mix and bake before they sat down to frost it.

  “That’s okay. It looks like you may have too much icing on the spatula.” I take some off then hand her the tool to allow her to do it for herself this time.

  “It worked. Thank you!” Mia dances in her chair as she continues to work on the birthday cake she has planned for her sweet grandmother who watches her during the summer while Mia’s mom works. I love the bond Mia and her grandmother have—you can see the loving warmth the two of them share.

  While I’m over here, I walk around and take in the other five children who are here today, most of them are wearing frosting or even dried cake batter on some part of their bodies. I giggle before returning my gaze to Travis. He hasn’t moved from where I left him. In fact, he’s standing with his legs spread apart, his arms crossed on his chest. The small smile playing on his face is the only thing that makes him come off like he’s at ease in his surroundings. Which is saying a lot. My décor is not for the faint of heart. I knew growing up that I was different. I was born in the wrong era. My parents and grandparents always said I had an old soul, so when I told them my idea of opening my bakery with everything that entailed, they rallied around me. Even going so far as scouring the Internet, garage sales, and flea markets to pull everything together. Every single thing you see in my bakery was hand-picked by one of us, as vintage and true to the decade I could possibly get, and I’m absolutely in love with it. That also might be part of the reason I dress the way I do when I’m here. Sure, my feet sometimes hurt from the heels, not to mention when I get home, I take my hair down, my makeup comes off, and I throw on the rattiest sweats I can find to be a couch potato.

  The dress I’m wearing today isn’t something I wear when I’m baking. That would be a hazard to everything around me. I always change after I get things set up in the morning. The locals love coming and going, and don’t get me started on the tourists—they come in looking shocked. They seem to still stay and have a treat or take it to go. The smile on their faces when they leave, it’s the best feeling in the world.

  “I’m sorry about that. How can I help you?” My body immediately homes in on his, making my way back to him.

  “This is quite the place you have here.” His voice is deep with a husky rasp to it.

  “Thank you. I’m really proud of it.” We are standing in front of one another. It should feel awkward, but it doesn’t. It’s almost as if we’re two lost friends meeting again years later, or maybe Travis walking into my shop is kismet. That thought makes me smile.

  “I need to get something that will make my sister not hate me for showing up on her doorstep unannounced. Think you have something like that?” he asks with a chuckle. Something tells me this man, who seems rough and tough, actually has more of a softer side than he lets on.

  “I’m sure I have something up your alley. Is she a super sweet or a savory sweet eater?”

  “All of the above. We both have a sweet tooth like you wouldn’t believe.” He groans as if he hates that fact. I’m not sure why he would bemoan the fact. Judging by the appearance of his firm body, Travis is clearly the type to eat whatever he wants and not gain an ounce of weight. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m envious of that fact either. I swear I look at the sweets in the shop and gain five pounds on my hips.

  “I have all that and more. I think a sampler tray will probably be your best bet. This way she has a variety to choose from. The only problem you may have is she may not share it with you.” I walk around the display case, ready to see what he does order.

  “I’ll take two sampler trays, then. You’re right, Taylor would never share something like that with me. Even if I am her older brother, when it comes to something like this, neither of us learned to embrace that quality if we didn’t have to,” Travis tells me. It’s almost as if he’s caught up in a memory.

  “That works. I’ll get this started and get you on your way in just a few minutes,” I reply while grabbing the box with my logo on it. This is something else I’m ridiculously proud of. It’s the small things, I swear.

  “Take your time. I’m in no hurry.” Travis takes a seat on one of the barstools I have placed around the counters so people can take a load off while they enjoy a snack. I nod my head and continue placing all different sorts of baked goods inside the box. With so much to choose from, I’m sure his sister will love this.

  3

  Travis

  The longer I linger around Raelynn and the presence she exudes, the more I want to stay. Taylor can wait. Hell, she doesn’t even know I’m on American soil. That’s probably why I’m hanging around as long as I am. The view Raelynn gives me every time she bends over gives me pause, and my mind short-circuits over what part of her it likes more—her heart-shaped ass or her more than a handful breasts. Don’t even get me started on the rest of the package. It’s all fucking dynamite.

  “Here you go. Give me one more second. I want to check on the children, then I’ll ring up your total.” She places the boxes down on the counter before sashaying her cute ass over to the kids. She spends a minute or two with each child, helping them with their piping bag or icing a cake. Some of them she just tells how good of a job they’re doing, all with a bright smile on her face, one that isn’t fake either.

  It makes me wonder if Raelynn isn’t already snatched up by some other guy, one who’s way more worthy of her than I am. Hell, I hope not. I want to be the man in her life, and I don’t give a damn that we just met.

  “Alright, let me total you out, and then you can get out of here. I’m sorry I’ve monopolized your time so much this morning. I usually close down for the class, but I always forget. Plus, I’m not generally that busy this time of day.” Raelynn must be nervous with the way she’s rattling on. It’s something that would usually annoy me, but with her I find it endearing. I could sit here and listen to her voice for hours, which is what makes me pipe up and do what I don’t think I’ve ever done in my life before. “It’s okay. I’ve enjoyed spending my time with you. What’s your work schedule like?”

  “Oh…um. I get off around three o’clock Tuesday through Friday. Saturday is my long day, and Sundays and Mondays, I’m off.” Raelynn’s blue eyes are full of excitement, making my heart thump in a double-time pattern.

  “Go out with me tonight,” I ask, but it’s more like a statement.

  “Me?” She looks around the shop as if I’m talking to someone else. I shake my head before saying, “Cute. I’m talking to you, Raelynn.”

  “Oh well, then sure. Where are you thinking? And don’t you have a sister to visit with?”

  “You’ll have to tell me where’s a good place to enjoy. It won’t be until around six. I do need to visit with her. Will that work?” I offer, hoping like hell she’ll be amenable.

  “That works for me. I can’t stay out too late though. I have to be here early in the morning.” Raelynn punches in the numbers on, get this, an original 1950’s cash register.

  “I’m okay with that.” I hand her a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill for the seventy dollars’ worth of baked goods. She must be doing damn good with the prices she charges, I think to myself. When she hands me the change, I grab my phone out of my pocket, bringing it to life.

  “What’s your number?” Raelynn rattles it off. I press the call button, not taking a chance that she might have given me the wrong one. I wait until it rings and then cuts to her voicemail. I listen to her voice on the other end before hanging up.

  “I wouldn’t give you the wrong number, Travis. It’s not like it would do me any good anyways. You kind of know where I work, and if your sister is a local, she likely knows me as well.” Raelynn s
hrugs her shoulders.

  “Until tonight, then.” My gaze lingers on her for another moment before I turn around to leave. I have a wrong, I have to right, but come tonight, I know what I’m looking forward to most.

  4

  Raelynn

  “What was I thinking?” I say to the now empty bakery. After the baking class was over, there was a whole lot of cleaning to do. The counters were caked with frosting and covered in bowls, spoons, spatulas, and piping bags. They were all spread out haphazardly when the children’s parents or grandparents came to collect them when our class was over. I’m scrubbing down all the dishes while thinking out loud for what seems to be like the one hundredth time in the last hour.

  “You’re thinking Travis is hot, with all capital letters, duh,” I huff out. Most people would hate to clean as much as I do, but I find it cathartic—that is when a certain male isn’t dominating all of my brain cells. I scrub my dishes harder than I should, trying to get them over and done with, needing to get home and tackle my animals, and to get ready. Not to mention, it’s not like my place is close to town. That would have been entirely too easy. I bought a ramshackle of a house. Seriously, it needs a whole heaping ton of work, but the land was what I needed for my animals, and if they don’t get fed at their normal times, it will be a madhouse.