Stud Muffin: Donner Bakery Book #2

by Romance, Smartypants

  Did he go before or after he started sleeping with Mindy?

  And since when does he hang out at the Pink Pony?

  How did I not see him for who he truly is?

  How could I let myself trust him so completely and get blindsided so severely?

  By the time six o’clock rolls around, I’m dressed and ready to go, but my head isn’t in the game. Taking another look at myself in the big mirror, I stare at my reflection.

  If I’m not Asher Williams’s wife, who am I?

  I thought I was starting to figure that out, but now, I’m not so sure.

  But this pant suit I decided to wear is fucking awesome. The second Stella mentioned that everyone was wearing their prom dress, I made up my mind I wouldn’t be. I wouldn’t put it past them to tell me one thing and everyone else do the opposite, like that scene in Legally Blonde when Reese Witherspoon’s character shows up to the party in a bunny costume.

  Yeah, that’s not happening.

  Also, I’ve seen Carrie, and there won’t be any blood spilled tonight, pig or otherwise. I refuse to let them get to me. I’m going, showing them that I’m not ashamed. Why should I be? I’m not the one who cheated. I’m also no longer intimidated by them. They can have their washed-up reputations and high school accomplishments.

  Let’s not discuss that my mental pep talk and decision making is based on movies.

  There’s a knock at my door at precisely six-fifteen, exactly when Cage said he’d be by to pick me up, and my heart does a little flip.

  I just saw him last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking forward to seeing him again. He’s the bright spot in all this mess. If it wasn’t for him, there’s no way in hell I’d be doing this.

  As I walk to the door, the realization hits me that I’ve only ever seen Cage in workout gear and jeans and T-shirts. For a second, I let myself daydream about what he’s possibly wearing now, pressing my hand against the door, I take a deep breath before I twist the deadbolt.

  Yeah, not prepared.

  Breathe, Tempest.

  Just breathe.

  But that doesn’t help either, because now, when I recite those words to myself, they sound like Cage when he was pushing inside me.

  Standing in front of me—in black slacks and a white dress shirt, with his sleeves rolled up and his thick forearms on display—is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

  I open my mouth to say something, but the words die in the back of my throat when he smiles at me. Those pale-blue eyes twinkling. His blond hair a bit shorter than it was last night, which means he must have got a trim today. And his beard he’s been growing since he arrived in Green Valley is still there, but also trimmed.

  Deadly, deadly combination.

  “Wow,” Cage says, stealing the words right out of my mouth. “You look… damn.”

  Swallowing, I feel the blush creep up on my cheeks. “Thanks, but you stole my line.”

  “Tempest,” he murmurs, taking a step closer and reaching his hand out to grip my waist. “This is the sexiest fucking outfit I’ve ever seen.”

  With his hand touching me, my eyes close on their own accord and my body wants to lean into him, craving him. Even though my mind is out of the game, everything else is all in. His lips brushing my cheek startles me. Jumping a little, I laugh nervously.

  “I wish I could keep you here all to myself, but it would be an absolute shame to waste this delicious ensemble,” he whispers and then kisses my cheek once more before stepping back. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” I tell him, giving him a grateful smile. “And you look fucking hot.”

  When I turn to lock my door, I hear him chuckle behind me and take a deep, fortifying breath.

  “I hope there’s an open bar,” he mutters.

  “You and me both.”

  * * *

  Walking into the Lodge, I’m instantly on high alert. The first person I see is Mindy. She’s standing at the welcome table with Stella and Catalina, who I haven’t seen in years. Back in elementary school, we were friends, good friends, but then we got to junior high and she became a cheerleader and I started eating lunch in the library.

  “Tempest,” Mindy greets as Cage and I walk up. “Welcome.”

  I’m so glad I didn’t eat, because I’m pretty sure I could puke right now. All over her ridiculous hot pink dress.

  Stella was serious. They’re all squeezed into their prom dresses, even Mindy, who just had a baby. I watch as she places her hands on her waist, almost as if to say, “look at me.”

  “Hi,” I deadpan, forcing a smile, and then move to Stella and Catalina, giving them a forced one as well. And that’s when I see the look on Catalina’s face. She wants to say something, but Mindy probably has her on a tight leash, and a gag order.

  If I had to guess, their pre-reunion pep talk probably went something like this: “The last ten years didn’t happen. Asher and Tempest were never married. If anyone brings up our affair or their divorce, you’re kicked off the island.”

  “Catalina,” I say, focusing my attention on her as Mindy looks through a stack of badges. “I haven’t seen you in what… ten years? Oh, wait. You came to my wedding! That’s right. How have you been?”

  I’m being petty. I know. But I can’t help myself. If Mindy can stand here acting like she’s the love child of Mother Teresa and a Victoria’s Secret runway model, then I can get in a passive dig.

  Catalina’s face drops, but she quickly recovers, eyes darting toward Mindy and then back to me. “Yeah, it’s been…” she pauses, swallowing, “years. How have you been?”

  “Great,” I say, glancing over at Mindy. “Never better.”

  “Oh, pardon my rudeness,” I say, placing a hand on Cage’s firm, muscular chest. “This is Cage Erickson. My date.”

  Cage’s hand slides around my waist and he pulls me to him in a possessive gesture. And I don’t just let him, I relish in it. If I could meld my body with his, I would.

  Looking up at Cage, I make quick eye contact and give him a genuine smile. “You know Stella,” I tell him, turning my gaze to the bleached blonde at Mindy’s side. “And this is Mindy, who you’ve heard a lot about, and this is Catalina, we all go way back.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat, stretching out his arm, shaking each of their hands. “Nice to meet you, ladies,” he says, effectively charming the pants off of them. Literally. Even though Stella acted completely put off last night when he mentioned working at the Pink Pony, she seems to be fully recovered from that now. I want to tell her to close her mouth. Drooling is very unladylike.

  When Mindy screeches, my head whips in her direction, expecting for someone to be bleeding out or the building to be on fire. Instead, her cheeks are so red she looks like her head is getting ready to explode. I don’t miss the piece of paper she tries to discreetly crumple up in her hand as she lets it fall to her feet.

  “Looks like they forgot to print you a badge,” she says, speaking through gritted teeth and a strained smile. “Stella, fix it.”

  I glance up at Cage who’s fighting back a laugh and it dawns on me what must’ve happened.

  If I had to guess, someone—not sure who—made my badge with my married name. That’s the only thing that would elicit that kind of reaction from her. And that’s just not going to fly tonight. No way. It would put a huge crack in the facade Mindy is so painfully trying to maintain. That’s okay, because I wouldn’t have worn it anyway.

  But I would love to know who did that.

  And give them a high five.

  Tell them to stop by the bakery.

  Muffins on me.

  After Stella scribbles our names down on two blank badges, she hands them to us. “Have a nice night,” she sneers. “Bar’s at the back. Dinner will be served at seven.”

  Deciding to be the bigger person, I smile back and make it as genuine as I can manage. “Thanks… and good to see you, Catalina.”

  She gives me an awkward half wave and then tu
rns to the people who walk in behind us.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Cage keeps his hand around my waist and squeezes. “Well, that was fun,” he chuckles, his lips brushing the ridge of my ear. “You handled that like a fucking boss.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I say, feeling the adrenaline from the interaction begin to subside, leaving me feeling a little numb and tingly… or maybe that’s Cage being so close and whispering in my ear. I smile at a few familiar faces as we walk into the ballroom and scan the place for a place to sit, preferably away from all the assholes.

  “I think Catalina forgets that I always came to her defense when people used to tease her about being a salad dressing back in fifth grade,” I mutter. “We actually did used to be friends, before all the bullshit of popularity kicked in and people started picking sides.”

  When Cage’s lips brush my hair, I falter a little and he steadies me. “Every eye in here is on you,” he whispers.

  “Nothing I’m not used to,” I tell him, feeling the familiar fortress I’ve built inside me close up the gate.

  “And it has nothing to do with Mindy… or Asher,” he mutters, his warm breath hitting my neck and sending chills up my back. “But everything to do with how fucking hot you are.”

  “Stop,” I say, swatting at him as I swallow down my desire and give myself a mental fist bump for my choice of attire. I’ve never been more thankful to be my own person and unattached from all the bullshit that came with having Asher in my life.

  Mindy’s minions are so obvious as they flounce around in their prom dresses. It’s laughable.

  “I’m serious,” he continues, his voice low and gravelly as we make our way into the main room.

  “Okay, now I’m being serious,” I tell him as we approach an empty table. “Because every time you whisper in my ear or touch me all I can think about is having sex with you and it’s distracting and I’ve really gotta keep my wits about me and make it through this night.” My words spill out in a rambling mess, per usual when I get flustered, and Cage’s cocky grin tells me he knows exactly what he does to me… what he’s doing to me.

  He laughs, biting down on his lower lip and I have to force my mind to stay out of the gutter.

  “Think you can keep the vultures at bay while I go hunt us down some drinks?” he asks, those stunning blue eyes twinkling as he pulls a chair out for me. “Or do you want to go with me?”

  “No,” I tell him, grateful for a moment of solitude. “I’ll be fine here… and you know what I want.”

  If I didn’t have to interact with another person tonight, I’d be happy. I’d rather ride out the night, here at the table, with Cage by my side, and hopefully escape unscathed. If Mindy and her flock of fakes is all I have to deal with this evening, I’ll consider it a win for Team Tempest.

  But of course I’m not that lucky.

  Cage has barely been gone a few seconds when I feel someone walk up behind me and place a hand on the back of my chair, brushing my hair.

  “Interesting choice of attire,” Asher’s familiar voice says from behind me, making me tense.

  Taking a deep breath, I focus on centering myself before replying. “Last I checked, you don’t have a horse in this race, so what I wear shouldn’t concern you.”

  He huffs a laugh, walking around and occupying the chair to my left, forcing me to look at him. “Come on, Tempest. We’re not strangers. You and I spent over a decade together. I’m always going to notice.”

  “I think your wife would have something to say about that.”

  Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “About her,” he starts and it’s crazy, but I know what he’s going to say before he even starts. “Could we keep it between us that I was at the bar last night? Old friends catching up. So, if we could let bygones be bygones, that’d be great… what do you say?”

  “Bygones be bygones?” The laugh that escapes me is a little crazy, I’ll admit, but his audacity knows no bounds. “Are you kidding me? Oh, and let’s not pretend like that was a one-time occurrence,” I scoff, scooting my chair back to put some distance between us.

  I need some fucking air. All of a sudden this huge room feels small and Asher is sucking up all the oxygen.

  When he gives me a look, daring me to cross him, I hold his gaze and stare right back.

  I’ll fucking cross you, alright, Asher Williams.

  Try me.

  Because after all the shit I’ve discovered in the last twenty-four hours, I could ruin him. The little piece of paper I found earlier, after some well-spent time with my friend Google, is enough to put a stop to half of this bullshit.

  “I was just having a drink with old friends… for old time’s sake,” he says, feigning innocence. “You know I don’t normally go to places like that.”

  Biting my lip, I close my eyes and pray for patience. Good Lord knows I don’t want to end this night in jail, but Asher Williams is currently testing all my strength.

  “You know, Asher, I thought I knew everything about you. I mean, you were my husband,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eyes as I say it, wanting him to feel the words like a weight on his soul. “For eight years.”

  He lets out an exaggerated breath, running a hand through his dark hair. “We’re not doing this tonight,” he warns. “It’s not the place.”

  “I’m not the one who waltzed over and struck up a conversation,” I retort. It’s a little petulant, but I can’t help it. He did this… all of it. I’m tired of taking the blame and being the villain. “So, since I have the pleasure of your presence, let’s go ahead and get a few things out in the open, shall we?”

  “Who’s the beefcake you’ve been hanging out with?” he asks, trying to change the subject and turn it around on me, just like he’s always done.

  “None of your business,” I say, glancing over my shoulder, part of me willing Cage to materialize and the other part of me praying he stays away until Asher leaves. I have a feeling things could go from bad to worse if he walked in and found Asher harassing me.

  “Are you fucking him?”

  Whipping my head around to face him, I look at him like he grew three heads. “Are you kidding me?” I laugh, but it’s lacking humor and its only purpose it to keep me from screaming. “I guess I should’ve been asking you that about Mindy a long damn time ago. How long were you fucking her, anyway? You’ve never really given me a straight answer about that.”

  “Tempest.”

  “No, Asher,” I say, sliding my chair back even further, just in case I need an escape. “You don’t get to do that anymore… you can’t talk to me like I’m a child, no one can, but especially not you.”

  “Okay,” he says, standing from his chair. “I’m leaving. I can tell it was a bad idea to think I could have an adult conversation with you. You’re fucking crazy,” he mutters, turning away from me. Those words. He has to know what they do to me. And the tone he used when he said them, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess he’s looking for a rise out of me. He wants me to cause a scene.

  The rational part of me is telling me to let him go.

  But that irrational part of me, the one I’m always battling, is saying fuck no.

  “How long?” I ask, my voice getting louder to get his attention. “Or did you forget? Kind of like how you forgot to tell me about your little trip to the fertility clinic?” I say, dropping that bomb.

  The look on his face as he turns around is one of horror and realization… understanding.

  I’m not going to lie, it thrills me. His discomfort feeds the beast inside me.

  Maybe I am crazy?

  Maybe I’m a sadistic bitch?

  Because I can’t stop. “Yeah, I found those results as I was going through some papers today. It’s like the universe is finally on my side for once… just dropped them right in my lap.” Laughing again, I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s a little detached, a bit unhinged. “And, you know me, I can’t help but Google shit. Apparently
, that time we got pregnant, it was a fucking medical miracle. I mean, like one in a million kind of thing.”

  My pulse is racing as the words rapid-fire out of my mouth. I feel eyes all over me. Everyone in our proximity now has a front-row seat to the show. My skin crawls, itching, begging me to lash out and release the pent-up anger.

  “Tempest,” Asher warns. His eyes begging, pleading me to stop.

  I swallow and close my eyes, trying to center myself and regain a little self-control.

  “Why her?” It’s one of the many questions that has plagued me for months now. Why her? Why Mindy? What does she have that I don’t have?

  When he doesn’t answer, I continue. “If you were tired of being married to me… if you knew you didn’t love me anymore… you should’ve ended it. That’s what someone with integrity would do, but you have none. You threw eight years of marriage away and jumped in bed with someone else.” The pounding in my chest is now reverberating all over my body. “You’re fucking weak… pathetic,” I seethe.

  Asher’s anger flares, and it’s so fucking satisfying. Through everything—me walking in on them, the trips to jail, the divorce, selling the house—he’s never once shown any emotion. So, I’ll take his anger. I’ll devour it like a starved animal.

  “You think this has been easy for me?” he asks, taking a step toward me as his finger comes between us, inches from my chest, but I don’t back down. Regardless of the nerves coursing through my body, he won’t win this battle. Or the war.

  “Everything has always been easy for you, Asher. That’s the problem.” I pause for a second, reining in my emotions. Deep breaths, Tempest. Deep breaths. “You don’t know how to fight. You’ve never had to. And personally, I feel sorry for you.”

  “He was never happy with you.” Mindy’s voice carries across the ballroom, gaining even more attention. “You’ve always been a wannabe,” she sneers. “If it hadn’t been for Asher, no one would’ve even remembered your name.”

  I swallow, her words pouring salt on old wounds.

  “And how dare you speak to my husband like that,” she finally says, coming into view as she takes her place next to Asher, her arm snaking around his possessively.