SWEETS OF LOVE || DULCES DE AMOR [ING/ESP]

𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐇𝐢𝐯𝐞

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SWEETS OF LOVE

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"Good morning!"

He shouted with joy that voice that had been making him uncomfortable for three months; so strong was the urge to slam the kitchen door in his face, that he had to bite his cap to keep from shouting, and it wasn't because he didn't like the nice Russian who so insisted on being his apprentice, it was precisely because he liked her, he liked her too much.

"Boss, I report for another day of teaching" he crooned with an amused smile, and a look full of ecstasy as he saw all the ingredients on the table.

Scott stood with his sleeves rolled up to the start of his biceps, a slightly hunched posture, and legs so straight he could strain a muscle. He just looked at her, with those green eyes so refulgent, trying to intimidate her, to cause her the need to run away, but just as it had been happening for months, Núria laughed at his expression and went to the bathroom to change her clothes for the chef's uniform.

Scott squealed, keeping in mind the busy day he would have with the fussy woman. He was running an errand for a wedding, his friend's magnificent wedding, and as he whipped up the cake mix, he thought the day would be calm, beautiful, filled with vibrant music from the radio station and some impromptu dancing to calm the nerves his friend would make him feel every 40 minutes asking if everything was going well.

And yes, it was turning out to be a good Saturday morning, the event reception would start at 8, so he had given his work group the day off, he would take care of things serenely, yes, yes, yes, yes, everything was going well.

Until she walked through that door, bursting his peace, upsetting his nerves, racing his heart.

Núria came out ready with her hat in hand, she had been strictly warned not to come to the restaurant today, but she remembered exactly why today was a special date, and she knew that no matter how self-sufficient her boss was, he would surely be busy until the last moment, entertaining himself with music, thoughts, and doubts; one week had been enough for her to evaluate Scott to the core and to know that he was a self-sufficient person but he sinned by demanding too much of himself.

He looked at her reproachfully as he stayed.

"Don't be stupid and let me help you" she chided him with her arms folded.

Scott got a twitch in his eye, she was disrespectful, loud, haughty, defiant, he couldn't stand her.

Mainly because she looked so much like him.

"What are you doing here, crazy?" He pointed the whisk at her. "I told you, I ordered you, not to come today."

Núria gave him a complacent smile and lifted her shoulders downplaying Scott's directives, he wanted to hang her, but quickly pushed the thought away before she went off on other tangents.

"Boss, you have a lot of things to do because that Vic girl is gluttonous" he mused with a shadow around him, Núria felt that Victoria, the future wife of Scott's best friend was a chewing gum when she was around Scott, besides he was fulfilling her every whim just because she was his friend's fiancée, or that was the thought he was trying to feed "you'll need help, boss "he added in a threatening tone."

In his thoughts there was only Vic's beautiful smiling face as he greeted his boss, and her watching her from behind wanting to make him disappear.

Scott watched her with narrowed eyes not understanding what was going on in his head, yes she was crazy that woman, although crazier he was because he liked her. He took the cap from her hand and put it on her head, just to entertain her and stop her from thinking about what was tormenting her, but while he was pulling it down to cover her eyes he shouted at her: "Stop calling me boss!

"Sorry, boss" he mocked.

As Núria adjusted her hat, she began to laugh at the sight of Scott with a tired look on his face, only 15 minutes after arriving.

New record.

Scott pointed his index finger at her, letting her know that she was in trouble, but that they would sort it out another time. Núria nodded in agreement and they got down to business.

Vic had requested 150 orders for each sweet, especially the chef's specialties, the cuelas were between 10 to 15. Which determined an order of 2000 samples or more of different sweets, plus the cake. It was true that Scott had been ahead of schedule all week, but there was still a lot of hard work to be done.

The hours passed slowly, like a favor from heaven, and they had no respite between mixing, baking, kneading and decorating, Núria didn't want to do it -truthfully, she did-, but she hated Vic.

Scott watched as she strived to have the same level of quality in everything, just by watching Núria he had learned the touch he used to make every kind of sweet, he was a monster in the kitchen, a cute monster.

Tall, blonde, voluptuous, with massive arms and a playful tone when she spoke, she took over people's thoughts, their concentration, and their feelings. Scott wanted to win her over.

However, something was bothering him too much, the afternoon was about to disappear, the flow of cars was increasing in the streets, the music was in the disco category and the sweat did not stop furrowing his nose, and yet what bothered him the most was that she did not stop chattering, she did not talk about anything, and he even saw her entertained with every sweet, but she did not stop chattering, annoyed by something he did not know.

He tried to ignore her, he really tried.

But when he entered the kitchen after sending all the finished sweets with his delivery driver to finally start on the cake, she was standing in front of the oven, mumbling and mumbling.

Scott couldn't take it any longer and grabbed her by the arm forcefully, spinning her around roughly. He lowered his face and looked at her with intensity, Núria looked like a little girl caught up in mischief.

"What's wrong with you?" hissed Scott, demonstrating why almost all of his staff was afraid of him.

"Na-nothing" he raised an eyebrow confused to hear her flinch, she didn't flinch at anything, she was a pain in the ass that made him uncomfortable him him!

I mean who made Scott uncomfortable? No one.

They were so close, their breaths mingled, their noses were about to touch and Núria's heart was pounding; as the days went by she hadn't discovered a better way to get Scott's attention than bothering him, she was a girl born and raised in Russia until her adolescence, it would take a lot for Scott to scare her, but you know what she was afraid of?

*That his love would not be reciprocated, that that red-haired idiot who made his skin crawl and gave him a feeling of apprehension in his chest every time he was very close, would hurt his heart.

"Núria, you'd better tell me what's wrong with you or..."

She bit her lip, in her homeland she was taught that she was to be brave, bold, launched, no regrets, a tangle of confident decisions that would sweep everything away.

"I'm jealous!" she vociferated making Scott let go of her.

His gesture was strange.

"Are you really crazy?" he asked confused.

Núria was furious, it was clear that he was stupid, but she didn't think so much.

"You're just being smart, aren't you?" she approached with her index finger poking him in the chest "I'm jealous, yes, I'm jealous! Don't you know why? Let me explain it to you" she added annoyed.

It was now or never.

"Núr..."

"Shut up Scott" that made him open his eyes in astonishment "I'm jealous of Victoria, that you do everything she asks you to do, that you try harder for her than who is her fiancé ok? Your friend is her fiancé, not you, so if you're in love with your best friend's girlfriend, react! They're getting married, and you'll still be here, in your restaurant, with me, because I'm not going anywhere no matter how much you ask me to, because, because..."

She wouldn't cry, it was certain, but a lump her throat made it difficult for her to confess.

Scott squeezed her hand, understanding her outburst and her attitude, she was a damned fool, but mad about him.

"Why...?" He goaded her, as ruthless as only Scott could be.

"Because I like you!" Núria turned away, she felt like she was going to die. "I like you, I love your hair, your teasing smile, your cruel look, your height, I love your skills, how good a boss you are, and how concerned you become tried to make sure no one notices, I like the way you see me, the way you get angry, I love your voice" he turned with one of those smiles that made Scott's heart race "and I love how you always smell like pastry cream, because you keep tasting all the flavors, they come together and stick to you, every morning I already know you're here because of that aroma, and I love it, I like you Scott. "

The music became the only sound between them, their eyes locked on each other, it all seemed so unreal that they bit their tongues just to find out if they weren't dreaming.

"You're crazy" he mused slowly and pulled her arm to his chest "but crazier I am, I'm sure you are, because I like you too, all of you."

Núria's smile was dazzling, from emotion she brought her arms around Scott's neck and propelled herself to reach those lips she so longed to feel, they were soft and sweet, the kiss was long, charged with joy, euphoria and pastry cream.

It wouldn't matter where he would be in the future, or his age, or that he suffered from amnesia, because every time that distinctive sweet, honeyed scent would defile his nose, it would remind him of him, always him.

They parted delicately, Núria sighed.

"Don't be jealous" the redhead declared, wanting to laugh at the situation "I'm not in love with Vic, she's my best friend, she and Luke have been since high school. Vic made extensive requests because several important people will be at her wedding and she wants to help me expand my business, so I think you owe some apologies."

"I won't even apologize" she sentenced with shame, allowing herself to be dominated, like all Russians, by pride.

"Nuria Dostoyevsky" she called him.

"Scott."

"Núria" he warned again.

She squealed. He laughed.

"I'm sorry for my little drama, but I won't apologize to her, because she still always wants to be too close to you and I don't like that," he said and folded his arms.

"She's not in love with me, she's French and French people are strange in their behavior, like Russians."

"Don't compare us!"

"Dint cimpiri is!" He teased her. "Let's finish this conversation later, there's still the cake to make."

She sighed and began to whisk the mixture with which they would decorate what was left.

There were still three hours left before she panicked.

...

"Hold on tight to the base, Núria!" Scott complained inside the vehicle that his driver was driving at full speed towards the event hall "they'll kill me, yes, they'll kill me."

"Don't cry, I told you we didn't have time to give each other some kisses" replied Núria blushing.

"Well you weren't complaining when..."

"Shut up!" she threw the cap in his face "you're a, a, a, shucks! Just shut up!"

A slam on the brakes stopped Scott's raucous laughter, they were ten minutes late, but Vic would surely wait until his cake was ready. They came crashing in and straggled to the end tables, where the food rested, and watched from afar as the show began.

"She looks beautiful" Núria couldn't help musing, she no longer had so much rancor in her being, now Scott was hers.

"Like you" Scott whispered in her ear "shall we run away?"

Núria nodded smiling and they held hands.

"But we have to go back."

"Luke will talk for about 40 minutes about how beautiful Vic is, enough time for a nice feast."

"Scott!" She scolded him low.

The laughter of the two of them running down the halls was evidence of the beginning of their greatest adventure.

DULCES DE AMOR

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—¡Buenos días!

Vociferó con alegría aquella voz que lo incomodaba desde hace tres meses; eran tan fuertes las ganas de cerrarle la puerta de la cocina en la cara, que tenía que morder su gorro para no gritar, y no era porque no le agradara la simpática rusa que tanto insistía en ser su aprendiz, era justamente porque le gustaba, le gustaba demasiado.

—Jefe, me reporto para otro día de enseñanza —canturreo con una sonrisa divertida, y una mirada llena de éxtasis al ver todos los ingredientes sobre la mesa.

Scott se encontraba con las mangas subidas hasta el comienzo de los bíceps, una postura un poco encorvada y las piernas tan rectas que podría tensionarse un musculo. Solo la miró, con aquellos ojos verdes tan refulgentes, intentado intimidarla, causarle la necesidad de salir corriendo, pero así como sucedía desde hace meses, Núria reía de su expresión y se iba al baño para cambiarse su vestimenta por el uniforme de chef.

Scott chistó teniendo en mente todo el ajetreado día que tendría junto a la quisquillosa mujer. Estaba realizando un encargo para una boda, la magnífica boda de su amigo, y mientras batía la mezcla del pastel, pensaba que el día sería tranquilo, hermoso, lleno de música vibrante de la emisora y algún baile improvisado para calmar los nervios que le haría sentir su amigo cada 40 minutos preguntando si todo iba bien.

Y sí, estaba siendo un buen sábado por la mañana, la recepción del evento comenzaría a las 8, así que le había dado el día libre a su grupo de trabajo, él se encargaría de las cosas con serenidad, sí, sí, sí, todo estaba yendo bien.

Hasta que ella entró por esa puerta, irrumpiendo su paz, alterando sus nervios, acelerando su corazón.

Núria salió lista con su gorro en mano, había sido avisada estrictamente de que no viniera hoy al restaurant, pero recordaba con exactitud porqué hoy era una fecha especial, y sabía que por más autosuficiente que fuera su jefe, seguro estaría atareado hasta el último momento, entreteniéndose con la música, los pensamiento, y las dudas; le había bastado una semana para evaluar a Scott hasta la médula y saber que era una persona autosuficiente pero pecaba al exigirse demasiado.

Él la miró reprochando su estancia.

—No seas estúpido y déjame ayudarte —le recriminó ella con los brazos en cruzados.

Scott tuvo un tic en el ojo, era irrespetuosa, ruidosa, altanera, desafiante, no la soportaba.

Principalmente porque se parecía mucho a él.

—¿Qué haces aquí, loca? —Le apuntó con el batidor—. Te dije, te ordené, que no vinieras hoy.

Núria le dio una sonrisa complaciente y elevó los hombros restándole importancia a las directrices de Scott, él quiso ahorcarla, pero alejó rápido el pensamiento antes de que se fuera por otras ramas.

—Jefe, tienes un montón de cosas por hacer porque esa tal Vic es glotona —musitó con una sombra a su alrededor, Núria sentía que Victoria, la futura esposa del mejor amigo de Scott era un chicle cuando estaba cerca de éste, además de que él le cumplía todos sus caprichos solo por ser la prometida de su amigo, o ese era el pensamiento que intentaba alimentar—, necesitarás ayuda, jefe —añadió en tono amenazante.

En sus pensamientos solo estaba el hermoso rostro sonriente de Vic cuando saludaba a su jefe, y ella viéndola desde atrás con ganas de hacerle desaparecer.

Scott la vio con los ojos entrecerrados sin comprender que sucedía en su cabeza, sí que estaba loca esa mujer, aunque más loco estaba él porque le gustaba. Le quitó el gorro de la mano y se lo puso en la cabeza, solo para entretenerla y que dejara de pensar en eso que la atormentaba, pero mientras se lo bajaba hasta taparle los ojos le gritó—: ¡Deja de llamarme jefe!

—Lo siento, jefe —se burló.

Cuando Núria se acomodó el gorro, comenzó a reír por ver a Scott con el gesto cansino plasmado en la cara, en tan solo 15 minutos de haber llegado.

Nuevo record.

Scott la señaló con el dedo índice, dándole a entender que estaba en problemas, pero que se arreglarían en otro momento. Núria asintió de acuerdo y se pusieron manos a la obra.

Vic había solicitado 150 encargos por cada dulce, especialmente las espacialidades del chef, las cuelas eran entre 10 a 15. Lo cual determinaba un pedido de 2000 muestras o más de distintos dulces, más el pastel. Era cierto que Scott había estado toda la semana adelantando lo posible para la fecha, pero igual quedaba un arduo trabajo por hacer.

Las horas pasaban con lentitud, como un favor del cielo, y no tenían ni un respiro entre las mezclas, el horno, el amasar y decorar, Núria no quería hacerlo —la verdad, sí—, pero odiaba a Vic.

Scott miraba como ella se esforzaba por tener el mismo nivel de calidad en todo, solo con ver Núria había aprendido el toque que él usaba para hacer cada tipo de dulce, era un monstruo en la cocina, un lindo monstruo.

Alta, rubia, voluptuosa, de brazos macizos y un tono juguetón al hablar, se adueñaba de los pensamientos de la gente, de su concentración, y sus sentimientos. Scott quería conquistarla.

Sin embargo, algo le estaba molestando en demasía, la tarde estaba por desaparecer, el flujo de autos aumentaba en las calles, la música estaba en la categoría disco y el sudor no dejaba de surcar su nariz, y aún así lo que más le molestaba era que ella no dejaba de chistar, no hablaba de nada, y hasta la veía entretenida con cada dulce, pero no dejaba de chistar, molesta por algo que él desconocía.

Intentó ignorarla, de verdad lo intentó.

Pero cuando entró a la cocina después de enviar todos los dulces terminados con su chofer experto en entregas para comenzar por fin con el pastel, ella estaba frente al horno chistando y murmurando.

Scott no aguantó más y la agarró por el brazo con fuerza, haciéndola girar de forma tosca. Bajó su rostro y la miró con intensidad, Núria se veía como una pequeña atrapada haciendo travesuras.

—¿Qué te sucede? —Siseó Scott, demostrando porque casi todo su personal le tenía miedo.

—Na-nada —él elevó una ceja confuso por escucharla titubear, ella no se acobardaba con nada, era un grano en el culo que lo hacía sentir incómodo a él ¡a él!

O sea ¿quién incomodaba a Scott? Nadie.

Estaban tan cerca, sus alientos se entremezclaban, sus narices estaban a poco de rozarse y el corazón de Núria retumbaba; con el paso de los días ella no había descubierto mejor forma de llamar la atención de Scott que importunándolo, era una chica nacida y criada en Rusia hasta su adolescencia, faltaría mucho para que Scott la asustara, ¿pero sabes a que sí le tenía miedo?

Que su amor no fuera correspondido, que aquel idiota pelirrojo que le erizaba la piel y le daba una sensación de aprensión en el pecho cada que estaba muy cerca, le hiriera el corazón.

—Núria, será mejor que me digas que te sucede o…

Ella se mordió el labio, en su patria le enseñaron que debía ser valiente, lanzada, sin arrepentimientos, una maraña de decisiones seguras que arrasara con todo.

—¡Estoy celosa! —Vociferó haciendo que Scott la soltara.

El gesto de él era extraño.

—¿Estás loca de verdad? —Preguntó confundido.

Núria enfureció, era claro que él era un estúpido, pero no pensó que tanto.

—¿Tú solo te la das de inteligente, no? —Se acercó con su dedo índice hincándole el pecho—, estoy celosa, sí, ¡estoy celosa! ¿No sabes por qué? Deja que te lo explico —añadió molesta.

Era ahora o nunca.

—Núr…

—Cállate Scott —aquello le hizo abrir los ojos asombrado—, estoy celosa de Victoria, de que hagas todo lo que te pide, de que te esfuerces más tú por ella que quién es su prometido ¿vale? Tu amigo es su prometido, no tú, así que si estás enamorado de la novia de tu mejor amigo ¡reacciona! Se van a casar, y tú seguirás aquí, en tu restaurant, conmigo, porque no me iré a ningún lado por más que me lo pidas, porque, porque…

Ella no lloraría, era seguro, pero un nudo su garganta le dificultaba la confesión.

Scott apretó su mano, entendiendo su arrebato y su actitud, era una condenada loca, pero loca por él.

—¿Por qué…? —Le incitó, tan despiadado como solo Scott puede ser.

—¡Porque me gustas! —Núria se dio la vuelta, sentía que se iba a morir—. Me gustas, me encanta tu cabello, tu sonrisa burlona, tu mirada cruel, tu altura, amo tus habilidades, lo buen jefe que eres, y lo preocupado que llegas a ser intentado que nadie se percate, me gusta como me ves, como te enojas, me gusta tu voz —se giró con una de esas sonrisas que a Scott le aceleraban el corazón—, y amo como siempre hueles a crema pastelera, porque te la pasas probando todos los sabores, se juntan y se adhieren a ti, todas las mañanas ya sé que estás aquí por ese aroma, y me encanta, me gustas Scott.

La música se volvió el único sonido entre ellos, sus ojos clavados en el otro, todo parecía tan irreal que se mordieron la lengua solo para saber si no estaban soñando.

—Estás loca —musitó él con lentitud y la jaló del brazo a su pecho—, pero más loco estoy yo, seguro que sí, porque a mí también me gustas tú, toda tú.

La sonrisa de Núria fue deslumbrante, de la emoción llevó sus brazos al cuello de Scott y se impulsó para llegar a aquellos labios que tanto ansiaba sentir, eran suaves y dulces, el beso fue largo, cargado de alegría, euforia y crema pastelera.

No importaría dónde estaría en el futuro, ni su edad, ni que sufriera amnesia, porque cada vez que ese distintivo olor dulce y meloso profanara su nariz, lo recordaría a él, siempre a él.

Se separaron con delicadeza, Núria suspiró.

—No estés celosa —declaró el pelirrojo, queriendo reírse de la situación—, no estoy enamorado de Vic, es mi mejor amiga, ella y Luke lo han sido desde la preparatoria. Vic hizo pedidos amplios porque en su boda estarán varias personas importantes y quiere ayudarme a expandir mi negocio, así que creo que debes unas disculpas.

—Ni loca me disculparé —sentenció ella con vergüenza, dejándose dominar como todo ruso, por el orgullo.

—Núria Dostoievski —le llamó.

—Scott.

—Núria —advirtió de nuevo.

Ella chistó. Él rió.

—Lo siento por mi pequeño drama, pero no me disculparé con ella, porque igual siempre quiere estar muy cerca de ti y eso no me agrada —dijo y se cruzó de brazos.

—Ella no está enamorada de mí, es francesa y los franceses son extraños en su comportamiento, como los rusos.

—¡No nos compares!

—¡Ni nis cimpiris! —Le fastidió—. Terminemos esta conversación más tarde, aún queda hacer el pastel.

Ella suspiró y comenzó a batir la mezcla con la que decorarían lo que faltaba.

Todavía quedaban tres horas antes de entrar en pánico.

…

—¡Agarra bien la base, Núria! —Se quejó Scott dentro del vehículo que manejaba su chofer a toda velocidad hacia el salón de eventos—, me matarán, sí, me matarán.

—No llores, te dije que no teníamos tiempo para darnos unos besos —contestó Núria sonrojada.

—Pues no te estabas quejando cuando…

—¡Cállate! —Le lanzó el gorro en la cara—, eres un, un, ¡rayos! ¡Solo cállate!

Un frenazo detuvo la estridente risa de Scott, llevaban 10 minutos de retraso, pero seguro que Vic esperaría hasta que su pastel estuviera listo. Entraron de manera estrepitosa y se quedaron rezagados en las mesas finales, donde reposaba la comida, y vieron desde lejos como comenzaba la función.

—Se ve hermosa —no pudo evitar musitar Núria, ya no tenía tanto rencor en su ser, ahora Scott era suyo.

—Como tú —le susurró Scott en el oído—, ¿nos escapamos al baño?

Núria asintió sonriente y se agarraron de las manos.

—Pero debemos regresar.

—Luke hablará como por 30 minutos de lo hermosa que es Vic, suficiente tiempo para un buen banquete.

—¡Scott! —Lo regañó bajito.

Las risas de ambos corriendo por los pasillos eran evidencias del comienzo de su mayor aventura.

^{© 2021 @marysenpai. All rights reserved}

The romances are in the air, this story is just a way of expressing some things that I keep, I add that all relationships are painted in different ways and forms, if a deal does not like it is best to talk about it, not everyone likes the same thing, anyway, I hope you enjoy this story.

Los romances están en el aire, esta historia solo es una forma de expresar algunas cosas que me guardo, acoto que todas las relaciones son pintadas de distintas formas y maneras, si algún trato no gusta lo mejor es hablarlo, no ha todos le gusta lo mismo, en fin, espero disfruten esta relato.

Recent post of my stories, in case you want to read more from me.

A CHRISTMAS ROMANCE STAINED WITH TRUTHS
BROKEN CYCLES

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^{𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 <3
Translated with DeepL Free version.}