Free Takes the Cake by Lynn Chantale

she brushed them from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of her nose, precariously close to falling. A dab of green food coloring remained on her cheek.
    She huffed, her chest rising and falling with the quick exhale, and she stepped back. He shifted to get a better view of what grabbed her attention. Rows and rows of flowers covered the table in front of her. He glanced to his left. Five cakes of varying sizes adorned the counter behind her. The smooth, white icing forms appeared to be petal shaped. Intrigued, he pressed his nose to the glass. This was different. He’d expected her to go with the earlier design, but this was a little more dramatic.
    A metallic bang caused him to jump, and he snapped his focus back to Liz. Her brows knitted together while she pursed her lips. She stared at the bowl and then swiped at her face with the back of her hand. When she lifted one shoulder and dragged her cheek across the material, he realized she was crying.
    Guilt sliced through his gut. This was indeed his fault. With a deep breath, he pushed through the doors. Her eyes widened while her jaw went slack.
    “What do you want?” She sounded weary.
    “You should go to bed.” He held her gaze before she turned back to the flower-covered table.
    “I’ve got to finish these,” she mumbled, pinching off a piece of dough. She rolled it between her palms until it formed a small cone. He watched as she worked, a perfect rose growing with each flattened petal she applied to the conical base.
    “Wow.” He glanced around the kitchen. Another table was covered in round and square pieces of chocolate. “All of this is going on the cake?”
    She nodded.
    He spied the design taped to a white board, and he wandered to it. The cake had more detail and smaller pieces than the first. He cast a sidelong glance in her direction. Did she even realize what she was doing? Somehow, this drawing surpassed the first and was much more fitting to what he had in mind for his sister. He opened his mouth to point this out, but when he turned, he clamped his lips shut.
    She was crying again. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she swatted them away with a shoulder shrug.
    “That’s it,” Keegan said.
    “Go away.”
    He stalked to her, grasped her shoulders, and forced her to face him. “You’re crying.”
    She knocked his hands away. “You would too, if you had to finish a cake that should’ve been finished hours ago. Or replace food for two hundred guests.”
    “Well, it’s time you get some sleep.”
    Her nostrils flared as she glared at him. “Go. Away.”
    He shook his head. She was going to be pissed, but he didn’t see any other alternative. He bent his knees, scooped her up, and tossed her on his shoulder.
    “Put me down.” Her voice raised an octave.
    He slapped her bottom, and she yelped. “Be quiet. People are sleeping.”
    “I’m not sleeping with you again.”
    “Well, you are.” He carried her through the double doors and into the corridor. “You can’t even focus on what you’re doing. You need rest.”
    She wiggled against him, and he brought his hand on her bottom again. She retaliated by smacking him in return.
    “As much as I consider that foreplay, sleep is all I require tonight.” He mounted the stairs.
    “Put me down. The blood is rushing to my head, and I already have a headache.”
    He paused to set her on her feet. Indeed, her face was flushed. “You need to rest. A few hours to close your eyes won’t hurt either way.”
    She folded her arms over her breasts. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
    He planted a hand on the banister and the other on the wall. She’d have to go under him or knock him down the steps to get by. A flash of temper flickered through her irises before she firmed her lips, spun on her heel, and marched up the stairs.
    He chuckled as he followed. “Turn right at the top and keep going to the last door on the left.”
    She tossed a frosty