“Here, try this, Thorn!” I bossed the man with a loving smile. I knew he was working hard, and that he hated to be interrupted, but our wedding day wasn’t far off and I was still trying to find the perfect wedding cake recipe for the reception. Our cake had to be absolute perfection for three reasons. First of all, I am a Pastry Chef and own my own bakery in the little community. My guests would be judging me, and I wanted to measure up. Secondly, my romantic fiancé picked Valentine’s Day for our wedding day! The wedding cake had to reflect the proper amount of romance without being tacky. And, thirdly, and most important of all, it was our special day, and one we would look back on every Valentine’s Day for the rest of our lives. I wanted to make Thorn proud of me, and have this cake be a reflection of my love for him. Maybe that sounds corny, but it is how I feel. I love him more than I thought it possible to love another human being.

Thorn gave me a look of resignation and obediently opened his mouth to taste my latest creation. “Nice,” he said after swallowing. For a writer he is woefully lacking in adjectives at times. I decided to be patient.

“This is the same cake, but with a different icing. Open wide.” He obeyed me and, like with all things, he was thoughtful and honest.

“I like the first one better,” he said.

“Why?” I truly wanted his opinion. This was his wedding, too. I wanted him to be pleased.

“It’s lighter, not too sweet, but sweet enough. This is the best one yet, Becky.”

“I think so, too.”

“Then stop fussing, please. You have baked enough cake since Christmas that it’s a wonder I haven’t gained fifty pounds!” He was teasing me, of course. “I’ve had to increase my workouts to twice a day, just to stay even with the scales, and I can’t understand why you don’t gain weight!” he growled, grabbing me and pulling me down on his lap to tickle me. I quickly managed to put the pretty little plate holding the cake down on top of a pile of notes he had lying on his desk. I didn’t want to drop it! And, I suddenly had ‘plans’ of the naughty kind.

“I guess I’m just a naughty pastry chef, tempting you to eat sweets all the time!” I was pretty sure of his reaction to my blatant invitation.

“Do you know what happens to naughty, little pastry chefs in this house?” Thorn immediately asked me, and his deep voice had that firm, teasing quality that made me squirm on his lap as my bottom tingled in anticipation.

“Noooo! What happens to naughty, little pastry chefs in this house, Thorn?” I purposely teased him. He’d worked long enough for today. The look in his deep blue eyes told me that my teasing was turning him on, too.

“I’ll have to show you, Miss Rebecca,” he answered, and just that quickly, he flipped me from my sitting position on his lap to lying face down over his thighs. A firm little spank landed on the flannel sleep pants I was wearing to lounge around the house on a lazy Sunday. 

“Ouch!” I squealed, positive he knew that I was playing along. We both loved this game, and it was a form of foreplay for us at times.

“You will be ‘ouching’ a whole lot more before this spanking is over, young lady,” he scolded, laughter in his tone. He continued to alternately spank and caress the seat of my flannel pants, and I was waiting breathlessly for him to tug them down and put his hand on my bare skin! 

Thorn continued to spank me for quite a while, and I knew I was soaking wet by the time he finally lowered my pants to gently rub my bottom. “You’re butt is nice and red, Becky. Are you sorry yet for tempting me with so much cake?” he asked, and I almost giggled as I sensed he wanted me to say ‘no’. 

“No, I’m not one bit sorry, Thorn Cross. This is your wedding, too!”

“Do you want a fat groom who can’t fit into his tux?” he demanded. I did giggle then. There was no fat on Thorn. We ate healthy most of the time, and he worked out daily. “You think this is funny, Miss Rebecca? I guess I haven’t spanked you nearly long enough… or hard enough!”

I did gasp then. Thorn gave me a sharp smack on one cheek and then another on the opposite side. They hurt! But his touch was comforting as he quickly soothed the sting by rubbing the handprints I knew had to be there! He continued to spank me, and as always, I protested when he decided I had enough. I never wanted the pleasure to stop, but counted on Thorn not to take me too far. While I enjoyed a bit of tenderness afterwards to remind me of our pleasure, I did want to be able to function. And, as he always reminded me, this wasn’t for punishment. Punishments were another story altogether, but I didn’t want to think about that while I was glowing. Thorn helped me up, and if he was surprised when I threw myself in his arms and kissed him passionately, he didn’t show it. He returned my kiss, and he taught me that it was indeed possible to make love on his desk chair. I was blushing afterwards.

Thorn gave my bottom a little pat and said, “I love to see your innocent little blushes, Becky.”

“I never dreamed it was possible to do that,” I confessed, and he chuckled at my expression.

“I’m learning that nothing is impossible when I’m with you, sweetheart. What we have is beyond special. I love you, and I’m looking forward to our wedding.”

“I thought most men dreaded weddings.”

“I want to stand up in front of a minister and a church full of witnesses and proclaim to the entire world that you’re mine forever.”

“And I want to tell everyone that you are mine!” I told him.

“Forever,” he added, and then he was kissing me again. This time he picked me up and carried me into our bedroom, and we took our sweet time making love. Thorn didn’t do any more writing that night, and I didn’t worry about the wedding cake, either.

Monday morning arrived, and in spite of my protests, Thorn insisted on getting up with me, walking me to the bakery, and going inside to make sure that I would be safe. He left me with a kiss and a firm order to lock the door after him, and he always stood there to hear the bolt click into place. He was overprotective to a fault, but that meant I was loved and I felt cherished. I put my engagement ring on the chain around my neck, tucked it safely under the tee shirt I work under my chef coat, and I went to work. I always started earlier on Mondays to stock my shelves before the first customers arrived.

I was already making Valentine’s Day treats, and the bakery was decorated as tastefully as possible to celebrate the day of love. It was hard to believe that our wedding day was less than two weeks away! Thorn picked that day to be married, on the airplane as we flew back from spending Christmas with my family in Miami. I was shocked that he wanted to have the wedding so soon, but promised I would pull a wedding together. The fact that Valentine’s Day fell on Sunday seemed to be a good omen for having a wedding then. I checked to see if the Church we wanted to be married in was available, and it was! I was told that there wasn’t a free Saturday until September, so it seemed as though the fates were happy for us. The only large hall for a reception was at the Church, and it was free, too. Thorn and I made an appointment with the minister, and he gave us a smile and said he would be happy to perform the service.

Thorn went home and wrote an email, sent it to all of our family members and close friends, and told them of our plans, asking them to keep that weekend open. Of course, we sent proper invitations, too. I ordered those locally, from another small business owner, and he made sure to have our order done in plenty of time for us to send them out. Since neither Thorn nor I wanted a formal, stuffy wedding, it was fairly easy to plan a simple buffet. 

I consulted with Thorn on the food, and he told me he trusted me to keep it tasteful and elegant, while friendly. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I talked with Julie, my part-time help, and asked her if she would pick a ‘staff’ from her culinary class, do all the cooking, and maintain the buffet. Once she stopped jumping up and down with excitement, she got serious and was very business-like as she read over my recipes. “I promise I won’t let you down, Becky,” she said solemnly, and I couldn’t help giving her a big hug. She chose well, and the two practice sessions we’d held went well. I was positive Julie could handle it, as long as nerves didn’t get in the way. When her Mom found out that I was putting so much trust in her daughter, she was concerned. I assured her the students would do a great job. They knew how to be professional, and the experience would look good on their resumes when they were searching for a job, or trying to get into a good culinary college.

We had the flowers done by a local florist, and I found the perfect wedding dress. Since there was absolutely no way to get the bridal party together before the wedding, I gave my bridesmaids one simple request… that they wear a full length red or pink gown of their choice and told them there would be flowers for their hair. The groomsmen were asked to wear a suit.

The photographer was a local woman, and I’d seen samples of her work. She was also free to work on a Sunday. 

Thorn handled the most important detail… bringing in all of our guests, family and friends, and arranging lodging for them. Thorn’s family was not happy he was getting married in Ohio, and my family thought the wedding should be held in Florida. Thorn told all of them that we were getting married where we chose to make our home, and they were all invited. He was paying for the lodging, and it was going to cost him a pretty penny to do so. The RSVP’s poured in, and the grumbling about location eventually faded.

My father kept demanding I send him the bills, but I insisted that all I wanted was for him to come and give me away. He told me he wouldn’t miss that for all the world, and I believed him. My brothers all promised to be here for the wedding, too, but now that the wedding was less than two weeks away, I found myself worrying and agonizing over every decision we made.

By the time Julie arrived after school, I was a bundle of nerves, and she hadn’t been inside the bakery for five minutes when I snapped at her. I immediately felt terrible and I apologized. “Julie, I’m so sorry. I’m in a mood, and I just don’t feel like myself. I know that isn’t an acceptable excuse… I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. You have bridal jitters, Becky. It’s understandable. You’re running a business, working hard all the time, and trying to put together an elegant, tasteful wedding at the same time. I’m surprised it’s taken this long to get to you.”

“Are you still in high school, Julie, or are you a psychologist pretending to be a teenager?” I teased her.

“I have older sisters, both married, and there was no living with them just before they got married. Talk about bridezillas!!” she exclaimed dramatically. “Just take a deep breath, and then tell me what you’re worried about, and we’ll go over everything and talk it through. Then you can mentally check it off the list and stop worrying so much.” Her cute little face suddenly fell. “Are you having second thoughts about having me and the others do the food, Becky?”

“No, not at all. My concern there is whether or not we have enough food planned.” I was being honest. “I’m confident you and the others will do a good job,” I added, wanting her to believe me.

“Well, since you mentioned it…” Julie said, looking at me warily, “… we were sort of talking and came up with two more ideas that we feel would work. Jeremy just wanted us to surprise you, but I was pretty sure you’d rather not be surprised. So, I brought a couple of things for you to try, Becky, and if you hate them, just tell me, and I promise not to be insulted.” She gave me a grin and said, “I’ll go in the back and nuke them.”

I shook my head. I didn’t know what to think, and I certainly didn’t want to hurt the kids’ feelings. The doorbell tinkled and I put a smile on my face to greet a customer. 

“You looked pensive through the window before I came inside, sweetheart. Is something wrong?” Thorn asked, his blue eyes studying me carefully. “Is there some problem with Julie?” he asked, lowering his voice so she couldn’t hear him.

I felt tears sting my eyes as I confessed, “I snapped at her, Thorn. And, I was not justified. I took my mood out on her, and I feel guilty as can be.” I felt like crying, but quickly blinked away the tears and put a smile on my face when I heard the microwave ding and knew she would be coming back. “Julie and her friends came up with a couple of recipes they’d like to serve at our reception,” I told him as she walked out front, carrying two small paper plates.

“Something smells wonderful,” Thorn rose to the occasion, and I trusted him to know what to say if the food was terrible.

“I hope you like it,” Julie said enthusiastically. “We want to do a great job,” she added, handing us each a fork. “See what you think.” She went on to explain what was in each dish and how they prepared it. 

“This one is real good,” Thorn stated. “Try this, Becky,” he urged, shoving the plate toward me. I did my duty, and blinked in surprise as I took another bite. I nodded at Thorn.

“Julie, this is excellent. Everything just blends together and yet, you get all the flavors. Yum.”

“Here is the next one…” Julie said as she put the plate closer. It was obvious that she was pleased we liked the first dish.

Thorn and I both took a forkful, and looked at each other. It was a winner, too. “This is fantastic, Julie,” I told her, and Thorn agreed with me.

“Well?” she demanded. “Do you want to add either of them to the menu?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Both of them. Write out the recipes and the list of ingredients you need to make enough for the guests.”

“Wow! That is so cool! Thanks, Becky!”

“Thank you, Julie!” I was lucky to have her working for me.

“Now, we can cross food off of the ‘Jitters List’,” she said with a smile, and then went to wait on a customer who was coming in the door.

“What is the ‘Jitters List’?” Thorn asked curiously.

“Julie says I have a case of bridal jitters. She said her older sisters went through the same thing when they were getting married, and she wondered when it would hit me. She forgave me for snapping at her, but I still feel terrible about it.”

“Go and get your coat. You’re coming home a bit early today,” Thorn said firmly.

“But, we’re open for nearly three more hours!” I protested.

“Do you have anything urgent that has to be done before you come in to work tomorrow?”

“No… but…”

“Julie, do you think you can handle business and lock up tonight?” Thorn asked.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Do you need for me to come and give you a lift home?” Thorn always made sure Julie had a way home, and the couple of times that she was going to walk, he insisted she let us take her home.

“Mom is picking me up on her way home,” Julie answered. “Is there anything special you want me to do, Becky?” she asked, and I gave her some suggestions of things she could do if she had more time than customers, which occasionally happened.

“If you have any trouble at all, you call us, Julie,” Thorn used his stern voice to tell her.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she smiled happily. 

“I don’t see why I needed to leave so early,” I complained. “I could have made cookie dough and put it in the walk in for tomorrow morning. I feel terrible leaving Julie with so much to do.”

“Julie will be just fine and you know it, Becky.”

“It isn’t right for me to dump my responsibilities on her. It feels wrong!” Thorn put his hand on my shoulder and turned me around to face him.

“The problem is that you’re feeling guilty for snapping at Julie, and that is precisely why I’m taking you home, young lady. You need a good spanking.”