Recipe for Romance: A Bucky Barnes Story

24: The Invitation

I stand at the front of the corporate meeting room with the dozen swivel chairs and long presidential style table. My fingers expertly flip around a red dry erase pen like the baton I used to twirl in high school. Tony's granted me an afternoon in this meeting hall to use the big whiteboard. Now I've got all sorts of cake diagrams and recipe conversions splattered on the wall. My booted foot taps the floor.

The door to the office swings open. Soundless footsteps can hardly be heard nearing.

"I got your text. You need something, doll?"

"Yeah," I breathe the word. "I've got two questions for you."

I hear one of the chairs behind me get pulled out. Bucky takes a seat—flopping down onto it rather gracelessly. Now I shoot him a glance. He's sheathed in a glistening sweat from a post-workout run. His shorts do very little to hide his thick, tasty thighs. I only wish he'd been generous enough to come up here without a shirt on. Instead, he's got a tank top and light jacket. He must've been running around Central Park again. His cheeks are slightly pink beneath the beard hairs. I wish he'd shave, but I can't bring myself to ask.

Bucky leans forward with his elbows on splayed knees. He cocks an eyebrow up. "Sure, sugar. Lay 'em on me."

I give my head a soft shake to which he sniggers. Bastard's gorgeous and he fucking knows it.

"'K," I hum. "First question—which of these do you like more?" I point to the cake designs with my pen. Bucky's eyes, which have inadvertently darted to my ass in white skinny jeans, begrudgingly move to the board. His face tightens with concentration.

"What's the difference?" he asks—voice husky and still breathless from the workout.

I roll my eyes. "Seriously?" I step closer to the board and begin to point out the obvious differences. "Floral arrangements to the left, to the right, or around the rims; and these two here are shorter and wider while this one's tall and lean."

Bucky leans back in his chair. His arms cross behind his head. "Why don't you ask Laurie? It's her wedding anyway."

"Yes, and I love her, but she's too indecisive. That's why she's leaving me in charge."

Bucky smirks. "Yet here you are; being indecisive."

I can't help but chuckle. "Right, well, I didn't say I was any better."

Bucky looks at the board again and seems to really be taking his time in coming up with an opinion. With a nod he finally says, "I like the taller one. It looks more impressive. And if Laurie really likes flowers, I say put 'em all around."

I step a bit farther away from the board to really look over my detailed sketches. I cross my arms, feeling Bucky's blue hued orbs on the back of my head. "Alright. I like that—I think it'll work." I snatch up the eraser and set to crossing off the other options. The only noise that accompanies the marker squeaking against plastic is Bucky's rolling chair gliding closer. He perches himself patiently at my side—watching while I meticulously begin to combine two previous drawings into one. Every few moments my eyes will flicker over to him; then he'll smirk and I'll blush and look away again. Marker smears the bare skin of my arm where the short sleeved blouse doesn't reach.

"Can I help you?" A laugh bubbles out of me. Bucky's staring is becoming a bit of distraction.

His lips purse and he gives his head a meager shake. "Nope, I'm just admiring." Boyishly he smirks at my blush that rises in response. "And you said you had two questions. So I'm waiting for what this second one's gonna be."

"Oh—right." I clear my throat and clench my fingers tighter around the pen I hold. I avert my eyes from Bucky completely and try to focus only on the faux buttercream patterns I craft. I force myself to spurt out the words before they fizzle away with fear in my throat. "Would you maybe possibly perhaps want to be my date to Laurie and Nate's wedding this weekend?"