One
Ask anyone in Lake Pendle, Minnesota, where to find the best baked goods in a fifty-mile radius, and they’ll point you to me, Haylee Davis, co-owner of The Fluffy Cupcake. Admit it. The name is delightful. If it doesn’t conjure up the image of a perfectly capped sponge cake with buttercream icing covered in a smattering of sprinkles, or, if you’re lucky, one of my homemade chocolates sitting atop that puff of goodness, there’s something wrong with you. My bakery is everyone’s favorite place to be from the moment the first whiff of fresh bread wafts into the air until the last cupcake leaves the case. Every special occasion, birthday, wedding, and funeral starts with a pickup or delivery from The Fluffy Cupcake.
Lake Pendle is a Hallmark movie set waiting to happen. We still have an old-fashioned Main Street, and it’s packed with traditional businesses to keep our residents stocked with what they need year-round. Big box stores haven’t invaded the beauty of our little town yet, and that is just one of the reasons tourists come back every summer to spend time on the beautiful blue waters.
“Here you are, Mrs. McCracken. Have a good day and thanks for stopping at The Fluffy Cupcake.”
“Thank you, Haylee. You’ve made my day. You know how much I love your Top O’ the Morning muffins!”
I waved as the gray-haired lady of nearly nine decades accepted her box of muffins and toddled on down the sidewalk.
“Quick, lock the door!” Amber, my best friend and business partner, yelled from behind me.
I hurried to the door, laughing the whole way, and flipped over the sign from open to closed. Once locked, I leaned against the door to take a deep breath.
“What a day,” I moaned before walking back behind the bakery counter. “We sold out of everything, and I lost track of how many special orders we took in. I’m going to be here for hours this weekend just trying to catch up.”
“And you love every minute of it,” came a voice from the kitchen.
The man behind the voice strode toward us in all of his handsome glory. The thought alone had me forcing myself not to roll my eyes. Brady Pearson wore an apron, a hairnet, and a grin that went on for miles. Cocky, self-absorbed, and incorrigible were the only three words you needed to describe the man. Sure, some women liked to add handsome, muscular, and good enough to eat, but I wasn’t one of them. Okay, so I was, but what I wasn’t was stupid enough to admit it to him. He didn’t need the encouragement. Guys like Brady had one thing on their mind—sex. Not the monogamous kind, either. They lived for sex, and lots of it, with a different woman every night. I wasn’t judging, to each their own, but I wasn’t going to be one of those women, no matter how many times he implied that he’d like me to be.
“You look tired, cupcake,” he said, his voice oozing soothing charm. It made my blood boil.
I took a step forward and dug my finger into his hard, highly muscled chest. “Do not call me cupcake, cupcake.” I ran my finger up his chest until it smacked him under the chin with purpose.
He grasped my shoulders and shook them, his silky dishwater blond hair shifting around under his chef’s cap from the movement. “You need to loosen up. You’re not even thirty, but you act like a grandma ready for the nursing home.”
This time, my brow went down slowly while his went up. He loved to goad me into a heated argument about who was more immature, him, or a six-month-old kitten. He usually won the contest every time. “Why aren’t you working? I would like to go home at some point today. I can’t do that until you’ve handed over your inventory form and prepared the cooler for delivery.”
“You got big plans tonight, Chef Davis?” Brady’s lips turned up in a smile, and the sun from the front window glinted off his perfectly straight white teeth, nearly blinding me.
I held my arms out wide. “Huge ones, they include stuffing a sock this long in your mouth!”
Amber laughed melodically next to me and stuck an arm in to separate us. “Children, children,” she tisked. “If you can’t get along, I’ll have to get out the sharing shirt. Then you’ll have to touch each other.”
The mutual eye roll she got did nothing but make her laugh. “I’m not sharing anything with him,” I muttered before I turned my back to him and started counting the money in the till.
Brady chuckled, and I hated that I had to bite back a smile at the sound. He did have the best laugh I’d ever heard. “You know I love you, Chef Cupcake,” he said, kissing my cheek.
“Awww, and what would I do without you, cookie britches?” I asked sweetly, batting my lashes at him over my shoulder.
“Gag me with a cupcake,” came Amber’s dramatic response.
We all laughed at the same time and I hip-checked Brady on my way by to my office where the safe was. “Seriously, though, Brady. I need the inventory done, and the cooler prepped.”
Brady flipped his towel down off his shoulder and swiped at some frosting on my nose. “The inventory is on your desk, and the cooler has been prepped and swept out. Can I go home now, mommy?”
“More like taskmaster,” Amber sang helpfully from the front where she was cleaning out the empty trays from the bakery case.
I darted into my office, setting the bag of cash down on my desk. The inventory form was indeed sitting there in all of its glory, and I picked it up, reading over it with a practiced eye. I’d owned The Fluffy Cupcake for eight years, so inventory was second nature to me now. Brady had only been doing it for two years, but what I read had me scratching my head.
I lifted my gaze to Brady, who lounged in the doorway, one leg kicked over the other, and his toe resting on the floor while he waited. I hated the way he looked at me like I was a chocolate chip cupcake with chocolate buttercream icing. It unnerved me, but more than that, it sent a chill of excitement through me. The excitement part didn’t unnerve me as much as it scared the crap out of me.
“We have next to nothing in the cooler?” I asked, surprised. “How did that happen?”
I tried to shove past him to check the cooler, but he grasped my shoulder and held me in place. “Haylee, you’ve been in your own little world recently. I don’t know where that is, but it’s not here with us. Are you okay?”
My mind raced straight up the stairs to my apartment and the calendar hanging on the fridge. The big red X loomed in my vision while the heat of Brady’s hand burned through my chef’s coat. The faces of all those guys I’d dated this past year converged until the only face I saw was Brady’s. Secretly, the only face I wanted to see on those dates was his, but that could never happen for a multitude of reasons.
I swallowed and cleared my throat before I answered. “I’m fine. We’ve been busy, that’s all. I’m trying to keep up, but admittedly, that’s getting harder by the day.”
His eyes told me that he knew I was lying, but he didn’t push the matter. I was glad since I didn’t need everyone to know how pathetic I had become. It was bad enough that Amber knew.
“Sure, okay,” he agreed, but I could read between the lines. His sarcasm was evident in those two words. “Anyway, we’ve sold so much product—”
“Which is a good thing,” I jumped in. “Business is booming.”