No Funny Business (The Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy)

my eyes at him. “What kind of cookies are we making again?”
His dimples flashed, and I realized he’d been teasing me. This was classic Kade, and the reason his TV show was so popular with women. Most viewers were drawn to the show for his charisma, good looks, and humor. Imagine if they could see him in person being even sexier and more magnetic than he was on screen.
“Okay.” He nodded with mock seriousness. “Gentle chocolate kisses are out. You’d prefer a dry sprinkling of chocolate like a powdery hug?”
I gave a weak laugh and turned back to the butter. Kade flirted as easily as breathing, and just because he was ridiculously good at it didn’t mean he wanted to take it any further.
If only he knew how not-dry his joking was making me, he’d probably be shocked.
One thing for sure, it was going to be a very long night.

Chapter Five


Kade
“You’re a genius. Pickle cake is delicious.” Natalie closed her eyes and groaned.
Her ecstatic expression had me picturing her in bed with my mouth between her thighs. And when she licked her lips, I had an almost overwhelming urge to lean in and capture her tongue with mine.
Good thing I was beating a bowl of eggs with a whisk. I channelled the frustration that had been building all evening, and beat harder and faster.
Cooking with Nat had eroded all my good intentions. How could I be expected to keep my distance when she had a dusting of icing sugar on one cheek and all I could think about was licking it off?
“Your cream frosting is the best I’ve ever had.” She swiped her finger in the white mixture, then put the tip in her mouth and sucked it, letting out another low moan.
I beat the eggs even harder, clenching my jaw to stifle my own groan. My whisk was a blur.
If I wasn’t careful, I was going to make peaks.
Stiff, hard peaks.
Long, full, throbbing peaks.
The eggs were going to be ruined.
“What will you surprise me with next?” she asked. “Onion cookies? Spinach cake? At this point you could feed me anything at all, and the only thing I’d say is yes please.” She widened her eyes. “Wait, did I say that out loud? It sounded less dirty in my head.”
I choked out a laugh, beating the eggs so fast my whisk was practically smoking. Those enormous eyes of hers killed me. They were slightly magnified and rounded by her thick glasses, giving her a perpetual look of innocence, especially because her irises were such a sweet blue, the color of bluebells and butterflies. But when she let loose with her wicked sense of humor, the effect was devastating. Like being karate chopped by a kitten.
I’d forgotten how much fun she could be, and how well we got on together.
A little too well.
“Are you making egg ice cream?” She stared down at the rapidly-thickening egg mixture in my bowl, and I tried to force my hand to stop moving. It wasn’t easy. My brain was as focused on the activity as a fifteen-year-old boy hiding under his sheets.
“I guess they’re beaten enough.” I managed to uncurl my fingers from the whisk and put the bowl down. “Now we need some sugar, and I’ll get the vanilla—”
I was reaching for the vanilla as I spoke, and she went for the sugar. We brushed against each other, her back to my front, and her body pressed into my erection.
She froze.
I moved back quickly. “That wasn’t intentional…”
Swiveling to face me, she stepped in close. Now my erection was pressed into the soft warmth of her belly.
Her face was tilted up to mine, her lips temptingly close. She smelled better than the vanilla I’d been reaching for. She smelled like freshly brewed coffee and hot buttered bread. Like a warm breakfast when it’s cold and raining outside.
I found my hand was brushing her cheek, though I wasn’t conscious of lifting it to her face. “Nat,” I whispered, hanging on to my self-control in the face of insurmountable odds. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“No.” She let out a long sigh, not moving. “It’s not.”
God, she was sexy.
For as long as I could remember, Natalie had been the woman I fantasized about.
When we were dating, I loved everything about her. The slow, almost sleepy way she blinked when she was thinking. The way we could bounce ideas back and forth, cracking each other up in the process. How she could figure out word puzzles that looked like gobbledegook. Her outrageous curves that no man would ever get tired of touching. And especially her laugh, which as far as I was concerned was the most contagious sound on the planet.
Nat was my fantasy. My muse. The woman who could tempt me beyond reason.
The woman who’d been able to hurt me.
“You don’t give me anything,” she’d said the day we broke up. It had been a shock to hear those words from her, and when she’d walked away, we were done for good.
I wasn’t about to make love to her again. If only my body had read the damn memo.
My throat felt too thick and tight, and I had to clear it to be able to form words. “Whatever was between us is over. Now we’re nothing but friends.”
“Friends,” she agreed softly.
My erection throbbed against her.
She pressed into me a little harder.
I closed my eyes.
“Whatever this is,” she said tightly. “It’s just chemistry. An irrational attraction. It means nothing.”
With the strength of Hercules, I put my hands on her hips and eased her away. My erection complained bitterly as it left the tempting press of her body behind.
Nat wiped her hands over the front of her apron, as though it might be possible to brush off the sexual tension between us. But it was even thicker than the eggs I’d been beating.
“I’ll finish the cupcakes,” I took a step away from her. “You start washing up.”
“Okay.” She reached under the sink and my mouth went dry as I