by Leigh Duncan
Jenny rejected the offer with an abrupt, “I think you’ve done enough already. I’ll take it from here.” The last thing she needed was an absolute stranger asking the owner of the bakery for a favor. Not when she already needed to beg him to make Karolyn’s cake on such short notice.
Trailing crumbs and sticky blotches, she moved away from the man with the intriguing eyes as fast as her legs would carry her. In the bathroom, she brushed the worst of the mess into the trash can. Then, gripping the sink, she stared into the mirror. A little soap and water erased the icing that stubbornly clung to her cheeks, but only widened the speckles of blue and green on her slacks, blouse, and jacket. Her lips pursed. The mess served her right for not sticking to her original plan. If she’d gone straight from the B&B to dinner, right now she’d be deciding which appetizers to serve Karolyn’s guests. Instead, she was wearing a stained shirt and a jacket that smelled like something from the dessert cart. Now she’d have to change before she went to the restaurant. Which meant she’d be late for her reservation.
At that unhappy thought, her empty stomach gurgled a protest.
“Sorry,” she whispered. But she couldn’t very well show up at a four-star restaurant looking like a child’s watercolor picture. Even if it wasn’t her fault.
Or was it?
As much a jumbled mess as the rest of her, her thoughts swirled. Sure, the man had plowed into her, but he’d done everything he could to make things right. And what had he gotten for his troubles? Ruined cupcakes and a waspish retort. Honestly, what had gotten into her? It wasn’t like her to be so rude. Certainly not to someone she’d barely met, no matter what the circumstances. Besides, she shared at least a little bit of the blame. If she’d been watching where she was going instead of dreaming about a horse-drawn carriage ride she’d never take, they could have avoided the collision altogether.
A long, shuddery sigh worked its way through her chest. She really was as sorry as she could be about the stranger’s ruined cupcakes. She probably ought to offer to replace them.
No time like the present.
With a last check to make sure she’d wiped the last of the icing from her face, she squared her shoulders. She needed to make things right.
Outside the ladies’ room, her stomach shimmied at the thought of staring into that intense pair of blue-gray eyes again. She sucked in a breath of air for strength. The move nearly proved her undoing when tantalizing smells filled her nose. Her stomach rumbled again, this time issuing an earnest reminder that far too many hours had passed since the flight attendant had pressed a tiny bag of chips into her hand. Promising herself she’d eat soon, she searched the bakery for the stranger so she could apologize and move on.
The cozy seating area, where framed paintings of pink and white flowers hung above striped wainscoting on fawn-colored walls, sat empty. No one waited in the larger, upholstered chairs clustered around low tasting tables or stood in front of the display cases on the other side of the room, either.
Ignoring a twinge of disappointment, Jenny told herself it was just as well that the man hadn’t stuck around. Tall, ruggedly handsome strangers with sharply chiseled jaws definitely weren’t on her agenda. She had a wedding to plan.
But thinking of Kay’s wedding reminded her why she’d come to the bakery in the first place. She headed for the cash register. Before she reached it, the bell over the door jingled merrily. A burst of traffic noise filled the storefront. The sound quickly died as the door swung shut behind a willowy young woman carrying a broom and dustpan.
Warmth flooded Jenny’s face and spread down her neck when she spotted the I Do Cakes logo on the girl’s apron. “I’m so, so sorry for the mess outside.” She shook her head, embarrassed.
A mix of compassion and concern swirled onto the young woman’s heart-shaped face. “Don’t even think about it,” she said with a welcome smile. She walked as she spoke, crossing the room to a set of swinging doors behind the counter. “I’ll be just a sec,” she promised and ducked out of sight.
For the next minute or so, muffled sounds echoed through the empty bakery. By the time a trash can lid clanged, Jenny had spotted several large baskets filled with cellophane-wrapped muffins near the display case. She was sorting through a mouth-watering selection of flavors when the clerk returned to the front of the store.
“There, that’s all taken care of,” the girl said, brushing one last crumb from her apron on her way to the sales counter. “Welcome to I Do Cakes. I’m Denise. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee? Tea? Mr. Bell said you can take your pick.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated the mammoth glass-fronted cases that stretched out on either side of the checkout counter.
“Mr. Bell.” Jenny nodded, glad to have a name to put with the stranger’s face. “I’m Jenny Longley. When you see him again, please tell him he doesn’t owe me a thing. I was just as much at fault as he was. Were you able to refill his order? I want to pay for it, if I can.” If she couldn’t apologize, at least she could do that much. Reaching for her wallet, she eyed the smattering of cookies and sweet rolls on display.
“That’s so nice of you, but it’s already taken care of. Now, what can I get you?”
Jenny shifted uneasily. Marybeth’s recommendation had been enough to separate I Do Cakes from the other bakeries in town. A single taste of rich buttercream icing had finalized her decision—this was the baker she wanted to hire. “I was actually on my way here to order my wedding cake before”—grinning, she brushed one hand over her stained clothes—“this happened.”
“Thank goodness no one was hurt.” Denise nodded. A moment later, her eyes widened as the importance of Jenny’s announcement sank in. “You’re getting married? Congratulations. You must be so excited.” She held out her hand expectantly. “Let me see the ring.”
A sudden guilt ran through Jenny like one of Southern California’s flash floods after a heavy rainstorm. She hated pretending to be a real bride when she wasn’t even dating someone, much less engaged. But she’d given Kay her word, and it was too late to back out now. Gritting her teeth, she plastered a smile over her misgivings and flashed the dazzling piece of jewelry borrowed from the studio’s costume department. She held her breath as Denise bent over her fingers. Her cousin had worn the flashy rock in a blockbuster hit and had insisted only a jeweler with a loupe could tell the difference between it and the real thing. Still, she knew she’d breathe easier once the ring passed its first test.
“Whew,” Denise whistled softly. “That’s gorgeous. Your fiancé must be a bazillionaire or something.”
“Not really.” Jenny slipped her fingers from Denise’s grasp. Maybe she should have insisted on a smaller stone, one that wouldn’t raise questions she’d rather not answer. Hoping to distract the clerk, she sighed. “But Bob’s simply wonderful. He didn’t even bat an eye when I insisted on a Heart’s Landing wedding. I’ve always wanted to get married here.”
As if by magic, an order pad and pen appeared in Denise’s hands. “Jenny Longley,” she scribbled in one blank. “And Bob?”
“Bob Chase.” Wait. That’s not right, is it?
When Denise dutifully recorded the name, Jenny fought the urge to give herself a swift kick. Tom was such a simple name. Too simple to remember, apparently. She should have insisted on calling her fake fiancé something that would stick in her head. Malcolm or Heathcliff. Those were names no one ever forgot.
A gentle throat clearing broke the silence that had filled the bakery. “So, where’s the wedding? What’s your headcount? When can we schedule a taste testing?”
Jenny gave her head a little shake. “The veranda of the Captain’s Cottage. Only fifty guests—an intimate gathering of our immediate families and our closest friends,” she recited. One corner of her mouth lifted. Did Denise have an immediate opening? “How about now?”
“Hmmm.” The clerk tapped the pen on her pad. “We’d nee
d at least twenty-four hours’ notice. Could you come back on Wednesday at, say, two o’clock?”
It would have to do.
At her nod, Denise pulled a glossy flyer from under the counter. “These are our basic prices and a list of our most popular flavors. You’d need to discuss any special requests with the owner.” She leaned closer. “Everything here is wonderful, but what’s your favorite? I’ll make sure we have it for you.”
Her mouth watering, Jenny ran one finger down a long list of options. The single lick of buttercream icing had been so good, she’d be happy to have it slathered over a plain white cake. But this wasn’t her wedding, any more than she was a real bride. Dutifully, she recited Kay’s preference for a cake to match her color scheme. “Pink champagne, definitely. Let’s try the pecan praline, too,” she added, recalling a dessert they’d swooned over when Kay had been on location in New Orleans.
“Excellent choices.” Denise nodded her approval. “I like a girl who isn’t afraid to ask for something more than the standard almond flavor. You should try our chocolate, too. It’s so rich, you’ll swear your mouth died and went to heaven.”
“I could go for that.” She swallowed, wishing she had some right now to fill her empty stomach.
“Could you?” A mischievous glint sparkled in Denise’s brown eyes. “I’m pretty sure there’s a fudge cupcake left over from the morning rush. Let me get it for you? Maybe with a cup of coffee or tea?”
Jenny bit her lower lip. She should turn down Denise’s offer, rush to the B&B for a change of clothes and at least try to make it to Bow Tie Pasta in time for her reservation. That was what she should do, what she’d planned to do. She tugged on a loose strand of hair. The long day of travel had exhausted her, but it wasn’t nearly over. A veritable mountain of decisions about the wedding waited for her at the B&B. With everything she had left to do, she’d be lucky if she drew the covers up to her chin in her suite’s comfy-looking bed before midnight tonight. When she factored in an embarrassing fall, didn’t she deserve a little break?
Deciding she did indeed, she nodded. “I think I’ll take you up on that, Denise. And coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.” Chocolate and caffeine. Two of her favorite vices. Her only two vices, to be perfectly honest. Together, they’d power her through the work that lay ahead.
A few minutes later, the scent of rich chocolate rose from the plate she carried to a nearby table. Staring down at dark swirls sprinkled with sea salt, she licked her lips. Though Denise hadn’t asked for her wedding date, she wasn’t going to let it bother her. Any more than she’d worry that she’d given the wrong answer when asked about her fiancé’s name. Not with a delectable confection staring up at her, begging to be eaten. With that, she forked a bite of the decadent cupcake into her mouth…and moaned.
A second batch of cupcakes securely strapped into the seat beside him, Nick tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while the car idled at the corner of Bridal Carriage and Champagne. Though he did his best to temper his impatience, he revved the engine a bit when the light finally changed. He was pretty sure the situation demanded it. After all, it wasn’t every day he had to dash across town to get his assistant out of a jam. Or lost an entire order in a freakish accident. And he’d never—ever—mowed down a bride before.
He ran a hand through his hair. That little error in judgment had both thrown him off schedule and dinged his pocket. Once the shock had worn off and he’d assured himself the bride was unharmed, he’d come face-to-face with the fact that the reason he’d been going out the front door in the first place now lay smashed to smithereens on the sidewalk. He’d had no choice but to cobble together twelve replacements by borrowing from the batch he’d meant for tomorrow’s daily special. As a result, he was running woefully behind making the Halperteen delivery, and he’d have a dozen fewer cupcakes to sell in the morning.
All thanks to a bride who hadn’t been watching where she was going.
Though, when he gave her a second thought, he had to admit he liked her style. Some of the women who came here to get married would have landed in a puddle of tears after the fall she’d taken. Not only had this one kept on going with barely a hitch in her stride, she’d done so without resorting to a single bridezilla tactic. In his ten years at the helm of I Do Cakes, he’d seen plenty. From teary pleas that wormed an extra ten grand for the florist from their daddy’s pockets to angry outbursts that kept a platoon of bridesmaids marching in lock-step on the wedding day, some brides wore a sense of entitlement like a cloak around their shoulders.
Not this one. This one had only licked her lips, dusted herself off, and insisted she was perfectly fine, thank you very much. She was a feisty thing, he’d give her that.
Chuckling to himself, he turned onto Champagne Ave. His laughter died the moment he spotted Jimmy anxiously pacing the sidewalk outside a stately two-story home. The tension that had dissipated on the short drive from the bakery settled once more across Nick’s shoulders. He braked sharply at the curb. “Everything all right? The party hasn’t broken up, has it?”
“Yes—er, no, boss. Everything’ll be fine as soon as I get the cupcakes inside. You did bring them, didn’t you?”
Nick hit the button releasing the locks on the car doors. “Right beside me.”
Jimmy grabbed the box. He peered through the cellophane window. “Hey, these aren’t the ones I made.” His face fell. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Nick answered in his most soothing voice. “Yours were fine. Great, even,” he said, recalling the way a certain bride-to-be’s face had lit up at one taste of the icing. “There was a small accident.” He brushed aside Jimmy’s questions with a wave of one hand. “I’ll save the long story for when we have more time. The short version is, I had to decorate a new batch.”
Jimmy’s forehead creased. Tiny lines formed around his eyes as his lips shifted into a teasing smile. “Must be a woman involved. Who is she, and what did you do?”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He stopped to reconsider. “All right,” he admitted. “There was a woman, but it wasn’t like that at all.”
“Whatever happened, I want to hear more about it when I get back to the shop.”
The sounds of children playing in a pool and a burst of laughter drifted from the back yard.
Jimmy hefted the box. “Gotta run. These kids need more sugar,” he said with a huge grin.
Just as well.
If his young assistant was waiting for a juicy piece of gossip, he’d be sorely disappointed. Nick had knocked a woman flat. She’d barely given him the time of day. End of story. Why, he hadn’t even gotten her name.
Pushing aside thoughts of the brunette for the moment, Nick focused on the things he needed to accomplish before he shut down the ovens and retreated to his apartment over the bakery tonight. Two assistant bakers handled the day-to-day task of filling the display cases with brownies, cookies, and all manner of tasty treats prepared using I Do Cake’s time-honored recipes. A specialist took care of the delicate piping for their most elaborate designs. That freed him and Jimmy to handle the cakes and cupcakes. And with the busy wedding season upon them, cake orders crowded the bakery’s calendar through the summer and well into the fall. Some weeks, they’d be so busy that he and the entire staff would pull double-shifts in order to deliver every cake on time.
Which they’d do, no matter what. Both the bakery’s and the town’s reputation depended on it.
Outside I Do Cakes a few minutes later, Nick scanned the sidewalk and the low hedge beneath the store’s window. No matter how closely he examined the area, he couldn’t spot a trace of Jimmy’s cupcakes. Knowing he owed Denise a big thanks for the cleanup, he cut through the front of the shop. “Hey, Denise. How are things this afternoon?”
For once, the sales associate didn’t have her nose in a book. A bottle of spray in one hand, a handful of paper towels in the other, s
he glanced up from the fingerprints she’d been busy erasing off the display case. “It’s been pretty quiet, Mr. Bell. Except for—”
“Hang on a sec.” He held up one finger. His dad had made a habit of complimenting employees on a job well done. The practice was one he strove to continue. “You did a great job out front. I appreciate the extra effort.” He’d dreaded coming back to a mess.
“Sure, no problem.” The girl waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Just doing my part.”
“Well, thanks anyway. So, you were saying?”
“Turns out, that woman wanted to order her wedding cake. I know we’re busy, but I took her order anyway. I left the paperwork on your desk—Jenny Longley and Bob Chase. They’ve reserved the Captain’s Cottage for the event. It’ll be a small affair, just fifty guests, but there’s something special about her. You should have seen her eyes sparkle.”
Halfway to the kitchen, Nick stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned toward Denise. “Are you saying she’s a true Heart’s Landing bride?” If so, that explained a lot. Starting with why it had been so difficult to shake this Jenny person out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, I think she might be.” Denise colored slightly.
“Well, what do you know about that.”
Though the town’s business owners prided themselves on turning every wedding into a special occasion, every once in a while, an extraordinary bride crossed their path. If anyone asked, Nick would be hard-pressed to put his finger on what set these particular women apart from the others. While they’d dreamed of having their wedding here for years, it took more than that to make a true Heart’s Landing Bride. More than just the look that came into their eyes when they described their venue. Or the breathy way they talked about their floral arrangements. Or the hitch in their voices when they described the cake they wanted—whether it was a towering confection for three hundred, or a modest, but just as tasty, dessert for immediate family.
