Floured

By Lane Martin

Emily Barnes likes things measured and timed, just like any baker. When she loses the apartment that she needs to run her home-based muffin business, she's faced with a choice: couch surfing at her very loud best friends' separated by thin walls or house sitting an otherwise empty Upper East Side luxury apartment overlooking Central Park. Obviously it’s a no-brainer for this smart cookie.

Declan Hayes is used to people asking things of him and saying no. However, for Maggie, his parents’ cook and housekeeper, he would do just about anything, including going over to his parent’s apartment to check on her pseudo niece who is staying there. His plan was to get in and get out, but the second he saw her, something changed. Something about her sparked the normally cold and dismal place to life; she made it warm and inviting. He finally understood the phrase “there’s no place like home.”

Can Emily and Declan trust the timing of their lives or adjust the lens from which they see them?

Hope, faith, trust and... love?

Will these things be enough for Emily and Declan to get the one thing they both never thought they needed in life?

It’s a good thing they are “Floured” because life is about to get sticky.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lane Martin
• Release date: Nov 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310663062

Lane Martin

I never thought that I would write a novel, although my English teacher my freshman year in college told me that he would hunt me down if I wasn’t published by the time I was thirty. Thirty came and went. I was busy being a wife and working mother of two and nobody came looking for me. I doubt my sister thought she was about to change my life forever when she got me a book of “Mommy porn” for my birthday in 2012, but that’s exactly what she did. After reading the first book in the trilogy, I rushed out and got the other two books. I became obsessed and read the series several times before learning about Fanfiction. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get enough. The idea fascinated me and I thought, “I can do that.” I was a nervous wreck when I posted my first story, a one-shot about my new favorite couple. One story led to another and then another. My readers encouraged me to write something original, so that‘s what I did. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me. I couldn’t have done it without you. I love reading, writing, traveling, and spending time with my family. Thank you for going on this journey with me.

Book preview

With a sigh, I leaned against the door jam and looked around the now empty apartment. Natalie sniffled through the phone. Leave it to my bleeding heart best friend to be crying when I was the one being evicted. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?

I’m fine, Nat. Gabe just took off, and I’m about to leave too. Thankfully Gabe is able to store the few things I own at his family’s business until I find a new place to live. I don't feel too bad about it because I do employ them to make all my deliveries for my company. I don’t know why I’m not more upset; maybe it’s because I knew it was the risk I was taking when I made my decision. Helping my sister was the right thing to do, even if it had led to the bright-green notice being attached to my apartment door. I can say for sure that I never want to experience this again. The pitiful looks I got from the neighbors wouldn’t be playing on my highlight reel any time soon. This place was a shit hole. I’ll find something better.

Are you sure you don’t want to just stay with us? I’ve already had this conversation with both Nat and Gabe, and I didn’t want to have it again. I love my best friends, but no way was I going to stay with them. Natalie was my roommate starting freshman year. We quickly became inseparable. To others, we were the odd couple, but somehow we just clicked. I’m the one from California, but she’s the one with the blue eyes, blonde hair, and bohemian vibe. Natalie is fun loving, always the life of the party. Not that I’m not fun, I’m just more reserved. Not shy, just a little slow to warm up. I met Gabe in Social Foundations I, and when he asked me out, I couldn’t resist his boy-next-door charm and dimples. We didn’t make a love connection, but I knew instantly he was perfect for Natalie. Gabe is as easygoing as Nat, not that I’m uptight or anything. I just like things a certain way.

I’m sure, Bridezilla. She’s really not that bad, but no way in hell am I staying with Gabe and her when they have a lot of plans to finalize for the wedding, and besides, the walls in their apartment are paper-thin. I’m kind of surprised they haven’t been evicted. I’m still not sure why they ever thought getting married on New Year’s Eve in New York was a good idea, but it’s what they want and as maid of honor it’s my job to go with the flow and keep the bride happy.

Watch it, or I’ll switch your dress to the eighties throwback with the puffy sleeves, and you’ll be styling crimped hair and blue eye shadow. I knew she was kidding. We both fell in love with my gray strapless dress with the perfect amount of bling the minute we saw it, just like we did hers. Yes, she had definitely experienced that moment, and we all cried right along with her. 

It’s your wedding. I knew images of her wedding album were running through her head when we both began to laugh.

You’re such a bitch.

But you love me anyway. I truly did. 

You know I do. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.

Yeah, I do. Thanks, Nat, and thank Gabe properly for me when he gets home. The little nymph picked up instantly on what I was implying, and I could tell she liked the idea.

Oh, you so know I will. He just walked in. I’ll talk to you later. Au revoir. Nat was practicing her French for the Parisian honeymoon they are taking. I hit end on the phone and took one final look around. Things couldn’t get much worse, so that meant they had to get better.

Aunt Maggie practically begged me to apartment-sit while she is in California for a much-needed vacation. She said I would be doing her a favor, but I was on to her. She knew I didn't like depending on other people. It was the main reason that I moved as far away from my family as possible. It's not that I don't love them—because I do—I just never wanted to end up like my mother. She depended on my father for everything. She gave up her life for him, and what did it get her? After seventeen years of marriage, it got her nada, zip, zero, zilch. No, I will never be that woman. My sister is headed down the exact same road, and that's how I ended up in this mess in the first place. Once again, she got involved with the wrong guy. If I had a dollar for every time she said, He's the one, I would be rich. It's not that they aren't both smart and beautiful women, it's just they both seem to still believe in white knights and happily ever after. I used to see my father that way, but when he traded in my mother for a younger model and left my sister and me behind without a backward glance, it made me see things differently very quickly. Now, I choose to believe I am the master of my own fate. I can save myself, thank you very much. Besides, who ever said I needed to be saved? This is just a bump in the road, a little setback, a wrinkle in time. You know what they say, that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. When one door closes, another one opens.

Maggie is not really my aunt, but she and my mom have been best friends since junior high. I’m closer to her than I am my actual aunt, and I know she would do anything for me, including asking her employer to allow me to stay in their home while they are traveling in Europe, and she is on the other side of the country. She is the housekeeper and cook for a very prominent couple, and from the sound of it they spend more time traveling than they do at home. Most people would probably take advantage of the situation, but not Maggie. She is one of the most trustworthy people I know. She’s worked for them for years and is desperate to set me up with their son. She has assured me he has his own apartment and rarely visits his mother and father. I’ve read articles about him in the business journal; he’s very successful and has done great things to expand the family business since taking it over, but I have no interest in dating. I don’t have time for it. I’ve never even been to the apartment before, but based on the posh Upper East Side address I know it will be nice.

I closed the door to the apartment with my giant fake designer purse slung over my shoulder, and my suitcase rolling behind me and headed to the subway station. At least I will be able to save some money for a new place while I am staying at the deluxe apartment in the sky. Don’t judge me, you sang it too. I got off at Seventy-Seventh Street and walked the quarter mile from the station to the building.

Good afternoon, Miss. I almost lost it when the doorman greeted me in his green uniform jacket with the matching captain’s hat. Why did my grandmother subject me and Libby to watching reruns of the Jefferson’s when we were kids? I began to panic, hoping I had some cash in my purse, because if this guy was anything like Ralph he surely would be expecting a tip. Miss Barnes, I presume, he said as he followed me into the opulent lobby after holding the door open for me. How did he know who I was? He must have seen the concern in my eyes. Not to worry, Ms. Maggie said we should be expecting you. Something about the way he said Maggie’s name made me wonder if something was going on between the two. That and we don’t see a lot of residents arriving on foot pulling their own luggage behind them, he said with a bright smile; it instantly made me feel at ease.

Oh, right.

I'm Billy. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Barnes. He offered me his hand, but instead of shaking mine, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it. I couldn't help but blush at the sweet older man. I hope I'm right about him and Maggie. They would be adorable together.

And they say chivalry is dead, Billy. Please, call me Emily.

Very well, Emily. Welcome. Here is the key to the apartment, fourteenth floor; just use it to operate the elevator. All the arrangements have been made with Eastern Express. They will be here in the morning, and I believe you will find all of your deliveries already upstairs. If you need anything, just press nine on the house phone, and it will ring my desk.

I entered the elevator and inserted my key to allow me access to the fourteenth floor. Wow, okay, so I might not have believed in fairy tales anymore, but that apartment was magical. The elevator opened straight into an elegant gallery that led into the formal living room that boasted high ceilings, crown moldings, hardwood floors, and views of Central Park that are to die for. The room was impeccably decorated; it looked like something you would see in a magazine. I dropped my bags, raised my arms out, and began to spin around in circles like a little girl. To my right was a formal dining room. I could only imagine all the beautiful people that had sat at the long table under the massive crystal chandelier. On the other side of the living room was a library with an enormous desk and floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with hardbound books—the room shared the same magnificent view of the park as the living room. I felt like an intruder as I began to explore the apartment for a bedroom. Maggie had insisted I stay in the main apartment rather than her quarters. What I could only imagine was the master bedroom was right next to the library. Beveled antique mirrors flanked the tufted headboard. I couldn’t help but run my hand over the luxurious matelassé bedding. The room boasted a closet that was probably bigger than my old apartment. No way was I sleeping in here. The next room I entered was dark and very masculine. It had navy-blue walls and rich mahogany furniture. I felt a bit like Goldilocks when I sat on the bed and decided it was too firm. I continued down the hall and found another bedroom, it, of course, was beautiful, but I decided to keep on looking. A giant family room was next. In comparison to the elegance of the rest of the apartment, this felt the most casual, the most like home. Don’t get me wrong, the television was the biggest one I’ve ever seen and the brown leather furniture was clearly expensive, but it looked like you could get comfy under the cashmere blanket that hung off the back of the sofa. Just off the family room was an average sized bedroom. The room felt like a garden with linens that were printed with blossoms and birds in pink and green. This room was just right. A set of stairs led up to Maggie’s apartment that was beautiful in its own right. It was a complete one-bedroom apartment, and I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw a collage of photos of Libby and me throughout the years. I returned downstairs and entered the kitchen. It was my dream come true; a baker’s delight with granite counter tops that were perfect for rolling out dough and commercial grade stainless steel appliances. I nearly fainted when I saw the two side-by-side double ovens. Maybe I had died and gone to heaven. Inside the pantry, I found all of the supplies that Billy had said were delivered. I was so excited to begin baking that I ran to my earlier abandoned luggage and went to my room to change.

My beloved, cherry-red, KitchenAid mixer that my mother gave me when I gave up my real job to start my own business was beating when the house phone began to ring. I barely heard it over the music playing loudly from the sound system that I had connected my phone to. I decided not to answer it and put it on my mental checklist to ask Maggie about it. As far as I knew, Billy, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, and she were the only ones that knew I was here. I got lost in the music and began to dance and sing along with Nicholas Petricca as he told me to Shut Up and Dance. 

Wow this is one hell of a show, I heard a husky male voice that was a sexy combination of Irish brogue and New York behind me as I dropped an egg on the floor.

I screeched, grabbed a large mixing spoon off the nearby counter to defend myself with, and faced my attacker. Holy Mary, Mother of God! Yes, I’d definitely died and gone to heaven, because sitting on one of the stools at the eat-in kitchen watching me, was a man that girls my age dream about. 

Who the hell are you? I demanded once I came to my senses. The intruder wore an amused look on his beautiful face. His light-brown hair was styled in a mussed up manner, and his tie hung loosely from his expensive charcoal-gray suit. His jaw was covered with five o’clock shadow, but what really got me was his smile and his beautiful green eyes that were focused solely on my chest which pissed me off. I‘ve only met one other person in my life with eyes that shade of green. Keep your eyes on me, I demanded, like in the song I had just paused on my phone.

Oh excuse me. He snapped his head up. It’s a little hard to concentrate on anything else when you are dancing around my kitchen in a get-up that even a Hooters girl wouldn’t wear. Okay, yes, my tiny tank and booty shorts were a little much—or should I say not enough—but I wasn’t expecting an audience.

Your kitchen? Fuck, was I in the wrong apartment? Billy told me to put the key in the elevator and this is where it lead me. It figures, this could only happen to me, but my supplies were in the pantry and those were definitely Maggie’s photos upstairs. 

Well, it is my parents’ kitchen, he corrected. Not that coming home to a beautiful woman dancing around my kitchen isn’t nice, but who the hell are you? he repeated my question to him. I was fairly sure he knew exactly who I was. Knowing Maggie like I do, she probably set this whole thing up, but I was stunned by his words.

You think I’m beautiful? I asked.

Well yeah, he answered like it was the dumbest question in the world. Gorgeous. 

He rose from his seat, removed his jacket, and hung it on the back of the chair he just vacated. He pulled his tie off and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt as he walked around the counter and grabbed a sponge from the sink. He was tall, and his ass looked amazing in his perfectly tailored slacks. I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I watched him. His eyes trailed down my body as he crouched down to wipe up the egg at my feet. I’m not normally a giggler, but I couldn’t help myself as the slippery egg just moved from side to side as he tried to clean it up. He looked up at me, rose, and put his hands on his hips, mimicking my stance. 

What? You were doing it wrong, I said once I finally stopped laughing. He was so close that I could smell him. He smelled as sexy as he looked; a mix of lavender, orange blossom, and spice—probably coriander. 

Do you know of a better way? he asked with an amused look on his face. Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the salt on the counter and began to pour it over the top of the leathery membrane. With his attention on every move I made, I reached for a paper towel. Instead of crouching like he had, I attempted the bend and snap move from one my favorite movies. With the salt covering the egg, I was able to wipe it up easily. I looked over my shoulder at him, and I got the distinct impression that he was enjoying the view of all my assets that I had shamelessly offered him. Natalie would be so proud of me. 

Once I stood up straight and turned back to face him, he cleared his throat. Maybe we should start over. I’m Declan Hayes. He tossed the sponge in the sink and put out his hand. I hesitated because I wasn’t sure what my traitorous body would do when it made direct contact with him. It’s called shaking hands. I don’t bite, and I think a proper introduction is in order since you are practically naked in my home. That struck me since he didn’t live here.

The timer went off on the oven pulling me out of my haze, or maybe I should say Hayes but he moved toward the oven before I could, grabbed two pot holders, and opened the door. He placed the muffin trays down on the counter. He looked so comfortable in the kitchen. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Thank you. I’m Emily Barnes, I stuttered. Maggie is my aunt. Well, I mean she is, but she isn’t, it’s a long story. I rambled as I shook his hand and then felt mortified by my lack of clothing. I began to cover myself.

Oh, ballbags, I think it’s a little late for that. His laugh was robust and sensual. I blushed from head to toe. Under his breath, I thought he said something about wanting to see my arse pink as he sat back down at the counter.

Maggie didn’t tell me anyone else would be here. I’ll pack my things and get out of your way. I guess I would need to get some ear plugs for couch surfing at Gabe and Nat’s place after all. 

Don’t be silly. We have plenty of room and I didn’t tell Maggie or my parents I would be here. I’m having some work done on my apartment, and I like to surprise Maggie by just showing up since she’s usually the only one here. Billy did try to call you to tell you that I was on my way up. I can say that I’ve never caught her baking in her knickers, so this is a special treat. He reached across the counter and grabbed one of the hot muffins. He tossed it back and forth between his two hands before placing a large piece in his mouth. 

Hey, that just cost me two dollars, I teased because I would actually pay money to watch him eat. It was sexy as hell. 

He moaned and his eyes rolled back in his head as he savored his first bite. Wait a minute, these taste familiar. He took another bite. They taste just like Mama M’s muffins that are sold at Greta’s in the Chelsea Market. My heart filled with pride and my smile widened.

That’s me.

He looked shocked. Mama M is an old lady, and I pay almost four dollars for those at Greta’s. 

It’s called up-selling and marketing, buddy. Would you buy muffins from me? I pointed out my inappropriate outfit.

He swallowed his last bite and licked his lips. Good god, what else could he do with that mouth or those lips? I think I’d buy whatever you were selling, Miss Emily Barnes. Shit, at this rate he would have to wipe me off the floor just like that broken egg.

Declan Hayes made me feel hot and cold, or maybe fire and ice is more appropriate. I finished in the kitchen as quickly as possible and retreated to my room without saying another word to him. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. Should I pack up my things and leave? Should I move into Maggie’s apartment? He had insisted that I stay where I was. Maggie said the same thing when I sent her a text earlier, and she also swore that she had no idea he was going to be here.

What do I do? I asked Nat after she finally stopped screaming when I finished telling her my story. 

Are you kidding me? I just Googled him. He’s hot. I would so do him. I heard some noises in the background before I heard her apologize to her fiancée and promise that his dick was the only one that she would ever lick and stick again before she returned her attention back to me. 

 Lick and stick? That’s disgusting. Remind me why we are friends again.

 You know you love me. So he just set-up his laptop at the table and worked? I didn’t dare tell her that I had caught him looking at me a few times while I finished. Go back out to the kitchen and talk to him, M, or forget talking altogether, she said suggestively. 

 He’s not my type, Nat. 

 You don’t have a type, Emily. I don’t know how long we argued back and forth before I told her that I had to click to my other line to talk to my sister, Libby. I knew that other than promising I would leave my room in search of Declan that was the only thing that would get her off the phone. She didn’t need to know that was an absolute lie and that I was going to bed. 

 My alarm went off at three in the morning, as usual. I felt like I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Damn Declan Hayes.

The elevator dinged, and Matt walked out. Of course, the swank apartment had a separate service elevator for deliveries. Holy crap, this place is fucking sick!

I know, right. Don’t get used to it, and don’t touch anything, I whispered, trying not to wake my roomie. For the past five months, Matt, who works for Gabe and his family at Eastern Express and I have been carrying trays of muffins down eight flights of stairs five days a week. On the sixth day, it’s Gabe. Gabe and Matt have been friends since they were little kids. I’ve never seen two families so close, and the amazing thing is that not only did they welcome Natalie and her parents with open arms, but me too. 

Relax, Lemon Drop. Why are you whispering? I thought Mag Pie was gone. Matt has a nickname for everyone. He pulled me into a big Matty hug just as Declan came hauling ass into the kitchen like he was ready to kill someone. Now it was my turn to say holy crap. He rounded the corner in just a pair of low-hung, black, Calvin Klein boxers. His chest was muscular, but not in a muscle head kind of way, and he only had a light dusting of chest hair. I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his shorts; I have to admit it looked like he had the complete package, if you know what I mean. Declan growled—yes, I said growled—when he saw Matt and me in the kitchen. Was he mad because we had woken him up?

I’m sorry we woke you, I said as I attempted to pull away from Matt, who still held me in his arms. He towered over me with his six foot two frame and tightened his hold on me. 

Who the hell is he? Was Declan angry that Matt was in the apartment?

Once I struggled out of his arms, Matt tried to step forward in an attempt to shield me from the angry, half-naked man who stood before us. I didn’t need him to defend me. I got this, Matt. Just take the trays to the truck. For once I had been able to put the trays on the rack in the kitchen, and then I covered them in wrap for the journey to Greta’s. Really, it’s OK. Reluctantly, he did as I asked. If looks could kill, they would both be dead. I’m sorry if we disturbed you. I use my friend’s delivery company to transport the muffins to the market. Matt is the driver.

You looked pretty chummy. He stood before me with his chest flared out like he was still ready to do battle. If I hadn't been so pissed, I would have been turned on. Who the hell does he think he is?

Matt isn’t just the driver; he’s my friend. I didn’t owe this man anything. We will try not to wake you in the future. I’m sorry. Go back to bed, Mr. Hayes. Was it wrong that I hoped he went back to bed and tossed and turned like I had all night? With that, I left for the market to make my muffin delivery.

So? Are you going to tell me who that was? Matt is my friend, but I know that he wants to be more. I love him to death, but I’m not interested. It’s not him; it’s me. It will always be me. I think he’s accepted that we aren’t now, nor will we ever be, more than friends. 

Nobody, the apartment belongs to his parents. The noise just startled him.

Yeah, right, Matt mumbled under his breath. I ignored him. What else could I say? We were early since we didn’t have to make multiple trips up and down the stairs, so Matt bought me breakfast. I could tell he wasn’t happy about me staying in the apartment with Declan, but it wasn’t up to him. I made a mental note to ask Billy if the building had a gym. I was going to be needing it since we would be using the elevator instead of the stairs. I had a very tight dress to fit in for the wedding, and the last thing I needed was to pay for more expensive alterations.

Greta seemed okay with my larger