Flights of Fancy (Mating Season Anthology) Excerpt

Chapter One
“Fancy, these lipcakes are simply to die for,” Sara gushed before she bit into the decadent, moist cake.

“You say that about anything I make,” a voice called from behind the bakery door.

Tate knew her name was Sara because she always hung around his landlady and they had been best friends since they were four. Lipcakes. He grinned at the name, but they were actually cupcakes shaped and iced with bright red frosting to look like lips. It was spring outside, and the weather had turned from the cold mountain air that swept down from the Appalachian Mountains into Merry, North Carolina, to warm air with only a hint of a chill. The trees had already begun to bloom, and the smell of flowers and newly turned earth filled the air. It was a light and heady feeling that filled him, and what a better time than to strip the old paint of his landlady’s building and give it a fresh coat of paint. It was the least he could do for her after she let him rent her upstairs apartment.

His old landlord had been taking his money but not paying the mortgage on the house he was renting. Tate knew nothing until the sheriff of Merry and an eviction crew came and started packing his stuff on the front lawn. With nowhere to go and no landlord to . . . ahem . . . murder, Tate had to find a new place to live. Luckily, he had seen Fancy put out a “For Rent” sign, and he jumped on it, literally. He had crossed the street from his truck and knocked it over in his hurry to get into her store.

Tate grinned at the memory as he used the metal paint stripper to peel the ugly old yellow paint of the three-story house. Tate smiled as he listened to her speak, Fancy McKee, landlady and owner of Fantasy Flowers and Cakes. The slogan on the sign outside said, “Let your bouquet or dessert say the naughtiest things.” It was the most totally unique store in small-town Merry and since its opening had caused a lot of talk among the fifteen hundred residents. Yet, it flourished, and many who said they wouldn’t be caught dead inside its doors had been there a good many times. How could they not with Fancy at the helm? To Tate she was the epitome of life—fun, vivacious, and sexy as hell. Fancy had curves that went on forever and skin the color of warm milk chocolate; had full lips that were so kissable, especially when she wore her ruby-red lipstick; and her eyes, wide and shaped like almonds with a soft brown color, could make any man do her bidding. In Tate’s eyes, she was the perfect woman.

Those eyes were always expressive and filled with fun and laughter. Her bronze-colored curls were always wild around her face but made the picture perfect. He had spent many nights with her in his dreams doing some of the naughtiest things with her. But Tate never overstepped that boundary because she would either accept it with a smile or slap the hell out of him. That was the kind of girl Fancy was. He also knew that, around town, she was known as something of a man-eater. Fancy dated a lot. He saw them pick her up and drop her off. He even saw them go upstairs sometimes, which always had the effect of making him grit his teeth. They never stayed the night, though. By midnight, they were always heading away from her place and going to their homes, and Tate always sighed in relief. He wanted Fancy in the worst way, but he did not want to be one of those ones who had to leave by midnight.

“What do you think of this cake?” Fancy asked.

Her voice broke his reverie and caused him to peek through the small open window above the front door of the store. She and Sara were bent over the cake on the counter, so he couldn’t see what it was, not that he cared anyway. Fancy was looking exceptionally gorgeous today, wearing a red halter-top dress that showed off the smooth expanse of skin on her back. It was cut above her knees, and Lord knows he wanted to lick her calves. Tate knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it when it came to Fancy.

“It looks awesome. What’s it for?” Sara asked.

“Bachelor party tomorrow night. The guys wanted something they could bite into.” Fancy grinned, and both women began to giggle.

“I know something you should bite into,” Sara said conspiratorially.

“And what would that be?” Fancy asked.

“Your tenant upstairs, Mr. Tate Hildebrandt.”

Tate grinned when he heard his name mentioned. All thoughts of the paint stripping went from his brain, and now, he listened intently to the conversation going on in the store.

“Ah, Tate, a fine specimen of yummy goodness, but no, I shall not delve into that dessert,” Fancy told her friend.

“Well, I think you should. Have you seen that man’s arms? I saw him on the ladder when I walked in. Those buns”—Sara rolled her eyes—“honey, you couldn’t bake anything better.”

Both women began to laugh, and Tate couldn’t help but grin. Yummy goodness. It was good to know his body was appreciated. It was even better that Fancy was the one showing the appreciation.

“You’re right, the man fiiine, but he’s my tenant. I think that is some kind of sexual harassment or something.” Fancy made a sexy sound in her throat, and it caused Tate’s body to respond instantly. “But God knows, if I had the chance, I’d lick him like a grape Popsicle on a summer day.”

Tate heard her words, and he conjured up the sexy mental images it created. So much so that he did not look at where he was putting his foot to come down the ladder. Next thing he knew, he was falling through the air. Oh shit! he thought, and with a helpless cry, he hit the soft grass next to the concrete walkway. The breath left his body with a whoosh, and little yellow stars swam before his eyes. He vaguely heard the tinkling bell of the store’s door opening, and the two women who were talking rushed out to see if he was okay.

“Jeez, Tate, are you okay? Do we need to call nine-one-one?” Fancy asked urgently.

“He looks funny, and he keeps blinking. I think we should call the ambulance.” Sara’s voice held worry.

Tate waved his hand to say no while he was still trying to catch his breath and tried to sit up. A searing pain in his back kept him from doing that, and he groaned softly.

“Sara, go inside and call nine-one-one and get them over here,” Fancy ordered. “Tate, don’t you dare move until the ambulance gets here. God knows if you have any internal injuries or hurt your spine.”

Tate opened his eyes, and when the stars left, Fancy came into full view. She stood over him with a worried expression on her face and holding a very large cake in her hands. Tate’s eyes widened when he saw the shape and decoration of the cake, which happened to be a giant replica of the female anatomy. A small smile mixed with the grimace on his face.

“Why, Miss Fancy, a man can only eat so much, no matter how good it is,” he teased.

Fancy grinned and looked at her cake before giving him the full stare of those chocolate brown eyes. “Somehow Tate, I think you would be able to manage it just fine.”

* * * *
After handing off the cake to Sara and begging her to lock up, Fancy rode in the back of the ambulance with Tate. She held his hand, hoping to give him some comfort, but noticed how he rubbed his thumb repetitively over her knuckles. When she did look at him, his dark blue eyes seemed to smolder in her direction and caused heat to infuse her. Tate Hildebrandt was not a man who a woman could look away from. His olive complexion showed his Mediterranean heritage—Fancy assumed he was part Greek—and his dark hair fell in short waves at his neck and dared her fingers to comb through it. His rugged jawline held short stubble that gave him such a sexy look. Plus his lean, muscular body was like the statue of David, cut from marble and total perfection.

“You’re staring at me,” Tate said softly.

“You’re holding my hand,” Fancy pointed out. “Are we at a stalemate?”

“For now.”

Fancy could see the possibilities that “for now” could bring. In every image that flashed through her head, they were both naked on her four-poster canopy bed doing things that made her moist between her legs.

“Tate, what were you doing up on the ladder anyway?”

“I was keeping my promise to you. Remember in the winter when I moved in, I told you that as soon as spring came, I would repaint the whole building? Well, I have to scrape the old paint off before I put the new coat on.”

“Oh gosh, you remembered that!” He melted her heart right then and there as she realized he was trying to keep a promise to her. Most guys would have said it and forgotten it, but he wanted to keep his promise. Tate got another point on the good side of her book.

“Well that’s what I was doing when I fell.”

“What made you fall exactly?” the EMT asked. Fancy almost forgot about him being in the back with them.

She and the EMT settled their eyes on Tate’s, and Fancy saw the flush rise in his cheek and cover his entire face. He was blushing! What could be so embarrassing that made him fall?

“I just put my foot the wrong place and lost my balance,” Tate said sourly.

The EMT nodded and went back to his monitors and letting the hospital know how far away they were. Fancy kept looking at Tate, who kept avoiding her gaze, and the blush in his cheeks was not going away. It finally dawned on her exactly why he fell.

Fancy leaned over and poked Tate in his chest before she whispered in his ear furiously, “You were eavesdropping!”

“I was not!” Tate responded, outraged.

“Yeah, you were. That’s why you fell. And to think I felt sorry for you!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the window was open over the door and I could hear your conversation.”

“Well, you know, no one expected to have a guy on a ladder outside that window snooping. I would have closed it. You probably weren’t even scraping any paint!”

“I was doing you a favor, remember? Two seconds ago, you thought it was sweet,” Tate reminded her. “And I’m really hurt here!”

“Oh, don’t pull the pity card now, you . . . you . . . eavesdropper!”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Tate replied. “You’re just mad because I heard that you want to lick me like a grape.”

Fancy clapped her hand over Tate’s mouth and gave the EMT a sidelong glance. He sat there writing something, but anyone could tell he was curious about the conversation going on.

“We do not have to go there,” she spat out.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be blamed for trying to be a good tenant.” Tate looked pained.

Fancy didn’t know if she should believe him or if he was just hamming it up for sympathy. She’d let it go for now, or at least until they know exactly what his condition was. Lord knows she didn’t want to be in the hospital and find out he broke his back trying to paint her building. She would forever feel responsible if that was the case.

The ambulance stopped in front of Merry’s only hospital. Before the end of the day, everyone in town would know that she was in there with her tenant. They already whispered about her and her sexy shop. Next thing you know, it would be around town that Tate was hurt because of their sexual exploits and bedroom romps. Sara would tell her in a few days, and she would, of course, die laughing. She hoped that the townsfolk imaginations would be better than last time, and handcuffs would be involved.

The EMTs wheeled Tate inside with Fancy at their heels. They put him behind one of the curtains, and from there it was chaos with people coming in and out—nurses drawing blood, technicians taking him for x-rays, and little candy stripers trying to brighten his day, or maybe theirs. Fancy found it hard to tell. But every woman who came in succumbed to his charms. Soon, they were asking if he needed water or juice or a heating pad for his back. The girl who drew his blood practically kissed his boo-boos, and all Tate did was relish the attention.

“How are you doing, Mr. Hildebrandt?” One of the nurses came in to check on him. She fluffed his pillow and managed to stroke his hair away from his forehead.

“I’m feeling better, but my back is still little achy,” Tate admitted. When the nurse made a sympathetic sound, Fancy rolled her eyes.

“Well, the doctor is on his way back with your x-rays and results,” the nurse replied before she walked out from behind the curtain. She turned and gave Fancy a direct stare. “I’m sure whoever caused this will have no problem helping taking care of you.”

“Oh no, she didn’t just give me that look,” Fancy muttered under her breath. She watched the nurse’s back as she sashayed away, and with each step, her blood boiled until she got up and began to walk in the direction that the nurse just took.

“Uh, Fancy, where are you going?” Tate asked.

“To have a talk with Ms. Nurse-Wants-To-Get-In-Your-Pants out there. Who in the hell does she think she is?”

“Nurse wants to?”

“Oh, she practically bent over and gave you some of her goodies, and instead of coming out and telling you she was interested, she chose to throw me under the bus. Uh-uh, not this chickie. I will tell her where she can put her who-is-responsible-to-help-take-care-of-you.” Fancy was on a roll, and she saw Tate’s smile begin to form on his lips. She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, if that smile crosses your face, Tate Hildebrandt, I will smack it off. You are lying there enjoying the attention from these fluff bunnies . . .”

“Fluff bunnies?” Tate sputtered with laughter.

“Yes, I said it, fluff bunnies, and you are enjoying it. Are you the type of man that needs women to fawn all over you, Tate? Because if you are, I surely misjudged you,” Fancy announced. With Fancy glaring at him while Tate tried unsuccessfully to hide his laughter, the doctor came in from behind the curtain without them knowing.

“Um, excuse me, is everything okay?”

Fancy sighed, and Tate smothered his laughter while she rolled her eyes. “Everything is fine, Doctor. What’s the verdict?”

“The verdict is that Mr. Hildebrandt has strained his back, and he will have to wear a back brace for a week,” the doctor explained. He began to write on a little notepad, and when he ripped it off, he handed it to Fancy. “Fill this prescription for him, and he needs someone to care of him for a few days.”

Tate took the prescription from Fancy’s fingers and stared at it suspiciously. “What is this I have to take?”

“Muscle relaxers to help your back and pain medication to help with any discomfort you might have. That’s why I need you to have someone looking after you for a few days. The two mixed together can cause an interesting effect.” The doctor looked at Tate. “Is there anyone who can stay with you?”

“Not close by . . . I can just wing it, Doc. How bad can the pills be?” Tate took on a forlorn look. “I can just sit in my apartment alone and hope for the best.”

“Oh, please,” Fancy muttered as she pasted a bright smile on her face. “I am his landlord. I can make sure he is okay, Dr. Fields. He’ll be fine.”

Dr. Fields nodded his head approvingly. “Good to know. I’ll get him his discharge papers so he can go home. Hey, aren’t you that lady that runs the cake shop over on Denver Street?”

Fancy tuned her business smile on the doctor. “Why, yes, I am. Have you been in my store?”

“Not yet. A buddy told me about it. I’m having a bachelor party for him, so I have to come in to see your cakes . . . and stuff.”

Fancy caught the innuendo but held her tongue. She got a lot of that because of her job and paid it no mind. She knew she couldn’t be offended because, hey, she ran an erotic cake store. It came with the job.

“You come on in anytime you like, Dr. Fields. I’ll make sure to give you a good discount for taking care of Tate.” Fancy beamed a winning smile at him again before he turned and walked away.

“He’s a prick,” Tate grumbled.

“Why would he be a prick, Tate?”

“Well, trying to hit on you at work, for one, plus making that suggestion like you’d take him up on it because you make cakes shaped like women’s boobs.”

Fancy leaned over him and purred, “Tate, I make much more than boobs. You should come in sometime and see my specialties.”

Fancy smiled as Tate cleared his throat. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“Yes, I do,” Fancy said firmly. “You fell off my ladder stripping paint from my building, so you are my responsibility until you get back on your feet.”

“I’ll be the model patient.” Tate held up his fingers to her with a smile. “Scouts’ honor.”

“Somehow I doubt you were a Scout, Tate.” Fancy smiled in return. It could turn out to be an interesting development when it came to taking care of her sexy tenant. Who knew what kind of recipe for fun she could come up with?