Broken Desires Read Online Free Page A

have to let me make dessert for you.”
    Dessert? He frowned at the dirty food word. “I’m really not a dessert person. Health issues associated with it and all. How’s your…condition by the way?”
    She appeared clueless for a split second then remembered. “Oh it’s fine. Rarely flares up.”
    “What type do you have?”
    She waved her hand. “Not a real bad one. No shots or anything.”
    “For now,” he said.
    “Oh stop. I don’t eat that much sweets. I mostly just like to bake them. In fact, I rarely eat what I bake.”
    She took a sip of lemonade then set it back down. “Hey, which is better…a skinny baker or a fat one?”
    The strange question snapped him out of his mood. “I have no clue.”
    “A skinny one. Cause bakers eat their mistakes.”
    If it weren’t for his dire need to release, she’d be much easier to smile with. “That’s a good one.”
    She nodded. “My dad told it to me.”
    He r dad. She was fond of him. He lifted his leg, ankle to knee, suddenly recalling the little stories his mother used to tell him. “I have one.”
    She smiled and sat back, getting comfy. “Go for it.”
    “ Many years ago, a baker's assistant called Richard the Pourer, whose job it was to pour the dough mixture in the making of sausage rolls, noted that he was running low on one of the necessary spices, sent his apprentice to the store to buy more. Unfortunately, upon arriving at the shop the young man realized that he had forgotten the name of the ingredient. All he could do was tell the shopkeeper that it was: ‘ For Richard the Pourer, for batter for wurst.’"
    A snicker preceded Sofia’ s laugh. “Nice, doc.”
    Maybe he could survive this if he focused on the mundane. “You said your father is a baker?”
    She nodded , leaned for her lemonade, and took a sip while playing with the hem of her jeans. “He passed away last year though.”
    Hmm. Why had he thought he was alive? “Sorry to hear that.”
    “I’d told you he is a baker, I’d meant was. Was a baker. A very good one.”
    He put his arm on the back of the couch. “I see.” He could almost feel the tension pouring from her body now. Her father was a sensitive subject for her. “You miss him?”
    S he took several gulps of lemonade and shrugged. “Sometimes.” She gave a little laugh. “Wow, that sounded cold, right?”
    “I get it. ” He nodded a little, feeling like he could level the playing field for her. “My grandmother passed away thirteen years ago.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Were you…close to her?”
    He leaned back. “We were inseparable.” He gave a light grin, pretending to remember good details that didn’t exist.  
    Sofia chewed her lower lip again. She seemed to do it when she was nervous and embarrassed. “How’d she die?”
    “A massive heart attack. She weighed four hundred and twenty pounds.” A heartbeat later, he wiped the foul memory from his mind and smiled at her. “So, what do you do for a living, Miss Sofia?”
    She shook the ice in her glass then glanced at him. “I take care of my grandmother. Full time. She has Alzheimer’s.”
    And there it was. She was a goddamn saint. When he needed a female demon, he ended up with her. “That’s honorable of you.”
    She shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the compliment. “Well, I get a free place to stay, free food, a small salary.”
    “ Nothing wrong with that.”
    She nodded and sighed like she wished she could see it the same. “Yeah, that’s what I tell myself.”
    “If you weren’t doing that, what would you be doing?”
    “I’ve always wanted to be a professional baker.”
    The sweet topic brought distaste toward her. He sat back, deciding he’d better pounce on the feeling if he was going to defuse his dangerous desire to eat her pussy right where she sat. “I bet you didn’t know that most Americans consume a hundred and fifty pounds of refined sugar a year. Most health issues stem from bad sugars. It’s