I put my arm around her and kissed her temple, the emotions welling inside me for the woman I was head over heels for, I had come to realize. “Your history is pretty damn successful, too. What you’ve done to build the business to where it is today is almost unheard of by someone your age.”
She leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Thank you, but I had help. Amber is in charge of the marketing, and you know she’s a genius at it. My success at The Fluffy Cupcake hasn’t come without expense to my personal life. I haven’t had one to any extent, and I’m almost thirty. I guess that’s why I made that stupid red X on my calendar this year. I wanted to hold myself accountable to start etching out time for more than work.”
“When we’re together, does it feel like you have to etch out time? It sure doesn’t feel that way to me.”
“That’s the weirdest part,” she whispered. “When we’re together, it’s natural. Like—”
“It’s meant to be,” I finished, kissing her then to keep her from saying anything more. I kept the kiss light and close-lipped, considering we were in the middle of the county fair, but I wanted her to remember how natural it felt to be with me. I ended the kiss and gazed into her eyes, all her hopes and dreams laid out in them for me to see. “We should probably head back and get some rest. Your eyes tell me you’re tired.”
“How do my eyes tell you I’m tired?” she asked, standing when I gave her my hand and helped her up.
“When you’re tired, all the walls you keep up around yourself drop and your eyes turn the color of weak coffee. I can see right through them to everything you want, but don’t think you deserve. While I love seeing your hopes and dreams reflected at me, I also know those walls protect you from a lot of things in this world that you’re not prepared to deal with just yet. I don’t want one of those things to blindside you when you aren’t prepared.”
I kept my arm around her waist, and she rested her head on my shoulder while we walked up the midway toward the parking lot where we’d left the bakery van. Every few feet, we had to stop and talk to someone we knew or wave at someone working at one of the food booths. Lake Pendle was a small town, and when it came to Strawberry Fest, everyone pitched in.
“You’re quiet,” I said as we approached the 4-H building.
“You blindsided me with the statement about the walls, and eyes, and being blindsided.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, stopping and leaning her up against the wall of the building. “That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”
She waved her hand in the air. “I know, and I’m not upset. You don’t have to apologize. It’s weird hearing it from someone else in that way, I guess. I always thought I did a good job of hiding my demons.”
“You do when you’re rested, but not when you’re tired. I just want you to know you don’t have to hide your demons with me. If you get upset and scared, you can yell at me, call me names, tell me to leave you alone, or whatever you need to do, and I will understand why. I will let you do those things because sometimes we all need someone to carry our burdens for a little while.”
“Will you leave me alone?” she asked, staring at the ground instead of my eyes.
I tipped her chin up with my finger until our gazes met again. “Never. I don’t care how much you yell and scream, stomp your foot, or point at the door. I will give you space, but I won’t leave you alone. I’ll run you a bath and fill it with a lavender bubble bath and help you in. I’ll hand you a glass of wine, and while you soak, I’ll make you the most epic French toast you’ve ever had. After you eat, I’ll massage your neck and back while you watch your favorite chick flick or talk about whatever is bothering you. Either way, you’ll know I’m there beside you, silently supporting you through whatever it is that’s causing you turmoil.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you, Brady,” she said, letting her finger trail down my cheek. “I’d do the same for you. Minus the lavender bubble bath, of course.”
I smiled and tossed her a wink before my lips claimed hers again for a hot second. “The only thing I need when I’m full of turmoil is you, a cupcake, and your bed. I’m a simple man that way.”
Her laughter floated on the air as we started walking again toward the car. “Hey, do you want to dart in and look at the 4-H entries before we go home, or are you too tired?”
I motioned at the door of the barn. “Lead on, pretty lady. I love this part of the fair as much as you do. I did 4-H as a kid, once I moved in with my foster parents, and won the bread division every year. My ribbons are still a source of pride for me to this day.”
She bumped me in the shoulder and grinned up at me. “I bet you knocked their socks off with your basil and dill pickle bread.”
I laughed with her as we walked around the edges of the barn where the tables sat filled to the brim with pies, cakes, cookies, tarts, and bread. To say I was impressed was an understatement.
I pointed at one of the tables that held decorated theme cakes for birthdays. “I think we might be missing out on a source of labor in the community.”
She was inspecting a Harry Potter cake when she glanced up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. These kids are already extremely talented. We could be bringing one or two into the bakery a few times a week for extra help and to teach them more about the process of baking in a large business like The Fluffy Cupcake.”
“You mean as apprentices?”
“Sure, or as part-time help if they want the work. Either way, if they’re in the bakery, they’re learning life skills before they go off to college.”
“Or they stay and work their way up to master baker,” she said, gazing at the cakes spread out before us. “I like the way you think, Brady. I think we should come back tomorrow after the judging is done and write down the names of the winners. We ask one pastry baker and one bread baker if they’d be interested. If they say no, we move to the second-place winner. What do you think?”
My grin must have covered my entire face when I answered her. “I’m all in! I would love to pass on some of the knowledge I learned over the years as a way to repay the bakers who taught me about the craft. That includes you,” I promised, kissing her nose. “But for now, we better get home, or Amber will have our heads when we don’t get all the cupcakes baked for the morning.”
She nodded once. “And you don’t mess with Amber when it comes to cupcake selling.”
We strode toward the door of the barn but stopped short near a room full of people. There was a woman on the stage, and she was giving an oratory about fashion.
“What is going on?” I asked, searching for a sign to indicate why Darla was up there talking about mini-skirts and leather jackets. I spotted the sign at the same time Haylee gave a derisive snort next to me. “Strawberry Fest Princess,” I read aloud. “Are you kidding me? She’s running for Strawberry Fest Princess after what happened in the bakery the other day?” My voice was a little loud, and a few of the people in the back of the room turned to glare at us.
We shrunk back and headed for the door again, with Haylee’s arm slung through mine and laughter on her lips. “Darla will run for anything if it means the spotlight is on her.”
“How does someone her age run for Strawberry Fest Princess?” I asked, confused.
“As long as you’re single, you can enter the competition. Is it meant for the young girls of Lake Pendle? Sure, but until they change the rules, you can be ninety-five and enter as long as you’ve never been married.”
“God knows she will still be running at ninety-five then,” I muttered.
Haylee grinned and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Today is the interview and oratory portion and tomorrow night they hold the pageant. We can go watch if you want to.”
“I would rather clean out the grease trap at the bakery on a Friday night than watch that witch prance around on a stage. Besides, how is she going to do that when she has to bake cupcakes in the afternoon? She’ll barely have time t
o put on her ballgown and get on stage.”
“Don’t you know?” my cupcake asked with laughter in her voice. “Witches wear the same gown to everything.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t love her more, she reminded me that I could. The fact that I’d finally come to terms with the idea that I loved her wasn’t as startling as I expected it to be. Gazing down at her beautiful face turned pink by the sunshine told me it was time to admit that truth to her, too. I had to take the next step. I just hoped she was ready to walk beside me.
Nineteen
Night had fallen, and the stars were out when we left my apartment to start baking. It was relatively early at one a.m., but with the bake-off later today, we had a lot of ground to cover. We wouldn’t be open since the bakery had a booth at the fair, but we still needed goodies to sell at the booth. Able Baker Brady refused to make any of his artisan bread a day ahead, which meant we had to do it tonight. I couldn’t blame him. No one would be happy with day-old bread when they were expecting fresh from the oven.
“Come here,” he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me away from the doorway of the bakery and across the street.
“Brady, we need to get to work,” I said, looking behind me as he dragged me up the street.
“We will, but we have plenty of time. I want to show you something,” he said, his hand warm and tight in mine.
The lake came into view, and I shook my head in exasperation. “I’ve seen the lake before, Brady.”
“I know you have, but have you seen it at one a.m. when the stars look like they’re touching the water and the moon has rested its beam across the glassy surface.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I said on a sigh as he pulled me under a giant oak tree with an overhang nearly to the ground. “It is pretty amazing,” I said, gazing out at it as he held me from behind, his back against the tree and me tight to his chest. “You can almost count the stars.”
His hand shot out at a light that was streaking through the sky. I followed his finger as he moved it toward the water. “Make a wish on the shooting star.”
I leaned my head back against his shoulder and sighed. “I think my wish came true already. I was just too stupid to realize it sooner.”
“What was your wish?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“To find someone to seriously date by the time I was thirty.”
“Seriously date?” he asked in confusion. “Versus?”
“Casually date or whatever,” I said, suddenly unsure of myself.
“Are we seriously dating, cupcake?”
I turned and slapped my hand against his chest. “Why do you keep calling me cupcake when I tell you all the time to stop? It’s very disrespectful,” I said, changing the subject, incredibly self-aware that I’d put my foot in my mouth again.
“I’m not being disrespectful when I call you cupcake. I’m doing what I said I’d do from the beginning.”
“Piss me off?” I asked, confused.
He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “No, show you your worth.”
“And calling me cupcake, when it’s a derogatory name I don’t like, accomplishes that?”
“Let me ask you this. How do you feel when Darla calls you a fluffy cupcake?”
“Angry, sad, disrespected, and undeserving of my success.”
He grasped my hand and held it to his chest. “All valid feelings, I agree. How do you feel when I say, fuck me harder, cupcake in your ear every night?”
I squirmed, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand or let me turn away. “I guess I feel the opposite. Happy, respected, and deserving of your time and attention.”
“How do you feel when I teasingly say, pass me the flour, cupcake?”
“The same?” I asked, and he grasped my chin, planting a light kiss on my lips.
“Question or statement?”
“Statement,” I said. “I know that’s how I feel, but I don’t know where this is going.”
“It’s going exactly where I wanted it to go. I call you cupcake to show you that depending on who says it, and in what way, you can have different emotions about it. If you let Darla’s connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then she wins. If you let my connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then you win. I call you cupcake because I respect the hell out of you, Haylee Davis. To me, when I call you that, it’s a name filled with the utmost love and respect. That said, if you still don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
I swung my head back and forth a few times, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes from his sweet admission. “Now that you’ve explained it, I see very plainly what you were doing. I just didn’t realize how much it would matter to me to hear your explanation.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he hugged me, his lips finding my ear to kiss before his teeth tugged on the lobe. “Wait. Love and respect?” I asked, lifting my head to stare into his eyes. “You meant that in a friend kind of way, right?”
He shook his head, barely enough for me to notice. “No, I meant in the I love you, kind of way, Haylee. It took me about one second after I kissed you to know that the crush I’d had on you all these years wasn’t about sex. I know you felt it, too. It was fire.” I nodded, swallowing hard when he balanced his forehead against mine. “When I realized that kissing you in the bakery made you nervous, I just wanted to make it right. I wanted you to know that I respected you and your business. When I sank into you the first time that night, God,” he whispered, his eyes gazing at my lips. “I was just a goner, cupcake. Still am. Always will be for you.”
Rather than let me speak, his lips captured mine in what I expected to be a hard kiss of desire and passion. Instead, it was gentle, flowing, and rippling like the lake behind us while he showed me with his body that his words were true.
He loved me.
His thumbs stroked my temple when he pulled back to gaze into my eyes. His blue ones were wide open and searching. “I know you don’t feel the same way, but I’m hoping that given enough time, you will fall in love with me the way I have with you.”
My head tipped to the sky that peeked at me from between the leaves of the tree. I laughed happily, which he wasn’t expecting. His fingers tightened against my hips, whether to hold me there or to make sure I didn’t fall, I wasn’t sure.
“Brady, I do love you. I’m just terrible at showing it. I always have been. You have to understand that I don’t know ho—”
His lips silenced mine, and he flipped me around, pinning me up against the tree and shoving his tongue inside my mouth. His passion ignited, I was going to have to ride his wave until it ebbed back out into the middle of the lake. There was no talking to him when his dick was a hard rod against my belly, and his tongue was most of the way down my throat.
He ripped his lips from mine and buried his face in my neck, a moan low on his lips. His hips thrust against my belly to relieve his pain while he suckled my neck for a breath. “You’re so fucking incredible,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “Beautiful, talented, and you do things to me no one ever has before.” He sucked gently at my collarbone for a moment while a shudder traveled through him. He would leave a mark, but my chef’s coat would cover it, so I didn’t stop him. Instead, I buried my hands in his hair and brought his lips back to mine.
“I love you, Brady,” I whispered again. “Why did we wait so long to admit it?”
He cupped my cheek and smiled, his forehead coming down to rest against mine. “You were scared, and I understood that. I’m done waiting, though, do you understand?” I heard his zipper chatter as it went down, and then his dick was hard and bobbing against the front of my pants.
“Brady, put that away! We’re in public.”
His laugh was naughty, steamy, and sexy in a way I’d never heard before. “Stick with me, kid. You’ll have lots of new experiences. The first is making love by the lake up against a tree. We’re the only ones here besides the geese and the fish.”
He kissed me, his lips anx
ious, and his hands busy. He pried my lips open again with his tongue and worked my pants down with his hands. What the hell were we doing? We were going to get caught, and I’d be the one with my pants around my ankles. Then again, he’d be the one with his dick hanging out. Someone would have to be walking right in front of the tree to see us, but it still felt carnal.
His hand traveled to my core, where I was already dripping wet for him. He rubbed to the rhythm of his tongue in my mouth, and when I was nearly coming in his arms, he pushed me up against the tree and entered me, our heights, and hearts, perfectly aligned.
I grasped his shoulders while he held my hips and drove himself into me. “I’m not going to last long,” I hissed, the sensations different than any I’d ever felt before. This was more primal, and when he thrust forward, he sent zaps of electricity through me, dragging a moan from my lips each time. “I’m going to come, Brady,” I cried, my body starting to shake from the pleasure building within my core.
He wrapped his arms around me and held me to him in a hug, so I pressed my face into his coat and came with his name on my lips, muffled but none less powerful.
“Haylee,” he sighed, his chin over my shoulder as I shuddered in his arms. My muscles rippled over him in synchronized rhythm, and he rose up on the balls of his feet and thrust upward deeper, harder—burying himself over and over, dragging out my orgasm while his started to build. “Fuck, I can’t stop,” he moaned. Then he filled me with his love and tenderness until my orgasm pulled every last drop of him into me.
Brady fell back to his heels, and a sound ripped from his throat that could only be described as satisfied. “I’ll never get enough of you, cupcake,” he promised while he tucked himself back inside his pants and zipped them, then worked mine up and over my ass, after copping a feel. “How was your first quickie in the park?”
“Orgasmic,” I said on a chuckle. I stroked his cheek with my thumb until he leaned back in for a kiss.
Cupcake (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 1) Page 14
