Cupcake (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 1)

by Katie Mettner

  “For the record,” he whispered, his forehead braced against my shoulder. “You’re not terrible at showing your love. I felt all of it just now when you trusted me enough to let yourself go under a tree in a public park. That will always be enough for me. You will always be enough for me.”

  I nodded, a smile tipping my lips up. “I just want to be happy for the first time in my life. You make me happy. That tells me something in here,” I said, tapping my chest.

  “I hope it tells you that I’d do anything for you, be anything you need me to be, and protect you at all costs. Can I ask you something?” I nodded, a question in my eye. “Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially? Can I finally tell people that I’m dating the spectacular Haylee Davis?”

  “I would love to be your girlfriend,” I whispered, my heart melting with his question. “At least when we’re upstairs or out here. In the bakery, I’m still your boss.”

  He laid a kiss on me then that had my lips stinging from the intensity and heat. “Downstairs, you’re the boss of me. Upstairs, I’m the boss of you when we’re in that bed. I can accept those terms,” he hissed, his hands grasping my ass tightly.

  “Hey, that’s not what I said!” I exclaimed, pushing against his chest while he laughed.

  “You’re right, but that’s what I heard. You and I both know that’s the best of both worlds. You in my arms every night, and your sweet ass nestled against my belly as we sleep. If I have that, I’m happy forever.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed. “Me, too. I love you,” I said on a whisper as the breeze stole my words and carried them out across the water to be blessed by the moonbeam and the waves.

  “Not as much as I love you,” he promised. “But Amber won’t love either of us if we don’t get to work.”

  I straightened my clothes then followed him out from under the tree. “I know you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”

  He slung his arm around me again as we made the trip back to the bakery quickly. “I’ll do the bread while you do the cupcakes. We’ll be done in no time, and we can catch a nap before the competition,” he promised, a kiss to my temple while I unlocked the door of the bakery.

  “Well, now you’ve jinxed us for sure,” I teased, rubbing my ass against his groin on my way by him to the cooler to grab the first round of cupcakes.

  The moan that tore from him filled me with unparalleled satisfaction.

  Twenty

  The bakery was quiet, which wasn’t something I could say often. There was no hum of the mixer, ding of the bell over the door, or chatter by the counter. It was just me preparing the bins we’d need to take with us to the fairgrounds while Brady ran upstairs to shower.

  Upstairs.

  In my bathroom.

  It felt strange but oddly perfect. Sure, Brady’s apartment was across town, and it made more sense for him just to shower upstairs, but after our discussion last night, I wondered how long it would be before we took the next step in our relationship. How long do you wait to move in with each other? He’s been at my apartment every night for the last couple of weeks, but that’s just the newness of the relationship, right?

  “Haylee, are you here?” Amber called as she walked into the bakery.

  “How long are you supposed to date before you move in together?” I blurted out.

  She paused in the doorway and looked left and then right. “Um, that depends?”

  My shoulders slumped, and I shook my head. “Ignore me. I’m tired and have way too much on my mind.”

  “That much was clear,” she said with a chuckle while she gave me one of her best friend hugs of encouragement. “Are you talking about you and Brady?”

  “That obvious, eh?”

  “Well, he does make googly eyes at you all day long, so pretty dang obvious, yeah.”

  “He told me he loved me last night and asked me to be his girlfriend,” I whispered, looking around to make sure he hadn’t come in the back door.

  Amber grasped my shoulders and shook me. “What?” she exclaimed with so much excitement it didn’t even sound like a question. “Seriously?” I nodded, my head on a string. “Oh, my heavenly cupcakes! What did you say?”

  I laughed at her dramatics and gave her the palms out. “I told Brady that I’m bad at showing it, but I love him, too. I also agreed to be his girlfriend everywhere but here.”

  “Here, you’re his boss,” she said on a laugh. “I’m so frigging happy right now I can’t even stand it.”

  “Wait,” I said, sticking a pin in the conversation. “Why are you here?”

  “I forgot the banner for the Berry Sinful cupcakes. I ran back to grab it before things get too busy over there. Taylor is handling the table until I get back.”

  “Why didn’t you text me? I could have brought it with me.”

  “You could have, but it’s slow over there right now, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t need any help. Besides, Taylor is running the table so I can be fluid today. I need to help you and Brady with the bake-off and then run back here and grab all the Berry Sinful cupcakes you made for after the competition.”

  “They’re finished if you want to take them now,” I said, pointing at the cooler.

  Her head swung side to side. “No way. I’m not risking Darla getting her hands on them and ruining our business. They’ll stay locked up here until you’re ready to reveal them.”

  “True, I hadn’t thought of that. Darla would try it if she thought she could get away with it. Besides, it’s going to be hot today, and the frosting won’t hold up well if we don’t keep them cold.”

  “She’d try anything to make herself look better since she knows you’re going to win the competition again.”

  I shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. “Probably, and for that reason, I’ve decided this will be our last year in the bake-off.”

  “Um, what now?” she asked, checking my forehead for a fever.

  I jokingly pushed her away and leaned on the bench. “I haven’t said anything to Able Baker Brady yet, but I feel like it’s time. It was Darla who mentioned it, sarcastically, of course, but it got me thinking.”

  “What did she mention?”

  “She said it was getting a little tired that the professionals were always winning the bake-off. It was never meant to be a competition for professionals when it started, and when I first competed, I wasn’t. To be honest, winning isn’t even fun anymore.”

  Amber’s eyes rolled in her head, and she scoffed. “Oh, heaven forbid you have that seal of approval in the window of your bakery every year. It’s bad for business.”

  “The thing is, Amber, we don’t need it anymore. We’ve been at this a few weeks shy of eight years, and we have more business than we can handle as it is. While bragging rights are fun, I want others to have a chance at them.”

  “Even if those others are Darla McFinkle?”

  I brushed my hand at her in response. “Honestly, I doubt she will ever win, but if she does, more power to her. I think the only reason she competes is that she wants to beat me. Regardless, I have other plans. I need to talk to you about them, but after the fair is over when things aren’t so hectic. That’s another reason, actually. I want to enjoy the fair, and I can’t do that with the bake-off and the business.”

  Her head tipped to the side. “What other plans?”

  I sighed because I could see I wasn’t getting away without some mention of them. “Brady and I were in the 4-H barn, and we were more than a little impressed with some of the entries. He suggested maybe we aren’t utilizing talent in the community the way we could or should be. We’re talking about using apprentices, one with each of us. There’s a lot to explore there before we implement anything, but I like the idea. I think it’s worth investigating.”

  She pointed at me with a nod. “I do, too. I was considering it for the front end with some of the Future Business Leaders of America kids. They work hard, and we could give them real-world experience to get them
better prepared for college.”

  After a smile, I hugged her for a moment. “I love how we still think the same even after all these years. Once the fair is over, I’m going to make brownies, and we’re all going to sit down together and hash these changes out. Our eighth year is going to be our best one yet!”

  “I know that’s because you’re happy. Like really happy. All the time. That’s due to the man upstairs, and I don’t mean God. I mean Brady. As for the question you asked me when I walked in, I don’t know the answer to that. I’m not even in a relationship.”

  “Which we have to fix,” I pointed out, and she scoffed.

  “Maybe someday. Here’s what I do know. When you’re ready for it to happen, it will. When you’re both tired of maintaining two apartments when you’re always only at one, it will happen. When you both decide you can trust each other with your heart forever, it will happen. Don’t rush it or give it an unnecessary timeline, okay? That’s going to be a recipe for disaster. Look what happened with the whole I’m going to be dating someone seriously by my birthday fiasco.”

  I held up my finger and lowered my brow toward my nose. “But, I am seriously dating someone.”

  Amber chuckled and shook her head at me as she walked toward the front of the bakery for the banner. “You are, but you sure kissed a lot of frogs to get there. Imagine if you’d just seen what was right in front of your eyes.”

  She disappeared into the front, but her words stayed with me while I packed and prepped for the competition. Imagine if I’d just seen what was right in front of my eyes.

  I imagine I would have had to kiss a lot fewer frogs to find my prince.

  THE WEATHER WAS LESS than ideal for topping cupcakes with buttercream icing. It was over eighty inside the building, even with the industrial fans running, and besides me being hot and sweaty, my frosting was going to be drooping and falling off if I didn’t figure something out fast. Brady had already filled the berries with cream cheese and dipped them in chocolate, leaving them in the small fridge to harden. I didn’t want to put the cupcakes in the refrigerator, though. That would make them cold and hard for the judges rather than fluffy and light as they were meant to be.

  “Do we have any parchment paper left?” I asked Brady, sweat on my brow that I swiped away with my sleeve.

  “About the size of a piece of toilet paper,” he joked, pulling it out and setting it down.

  “That will work. I need a small pan that will fit in the fridge.”

  His brow went down, but he grabbed the lid from a CamSquare and set it down. “Will that work?”

  “Perfectly.”

  I covered it with the minuscule piece of parchment paper and piped on three plumes of icing, immediately sticking it in the fridge to harden. Brady’s eyes smiled as he prepped the cupcakes, having filled them with our strawberry cream cheese center and plated them to await the final touches.

  I started to clean up the workspace and kept my eye on Darla. She was dressed to the nines in a summer sundress meant for the beach and not a bake-off, complete with matching heels and a flower crown. She looked ridiculous, but maybe that was just because I hate her.

  I eyed her again.

  No, she looked ridiculous.

  I enjoyed the fact that she was sweating up a storm, and the back of her dress was soaking wet as she labored to finish her three cupcakes in time. There were five minutes left on the clock, and I was done other than hardening the icing, which wouldn’t take long in the deep cold. The icing only had to last until they got into the judges’ hands. After that, they’d be eaten too fast for them to care. Darla, on the other hand, wasn’t having that kind of luck. Her frosting was runny like water rather than holding any sort of shape. I should be a nice person and tell her how to fix it, but I’m not a nice person when it comes to Darla. Besides, with less than five minutes to go, there wasn’t time for her to correct her tactical error now.

  Unfortunately, Team Barton had dropped out of the competition at noon. The better half of Team Barton had gone into labor with their second child most unexpectedly. She was whisked away by ambulance to the hospital, and we were waiting for word on the outcome. Lila was a few weeks away from her due date and thought she’d make it through the bake-off easily, but this heat, and the baby, had different ideas. That left just us and Darla to fight to the end for the best cupcake of the year. But it looked like Darla brought her F game to the table.

  Checking the clock, I had three minutes to go. I piped a small amount of icing on each cupcake for the cold plumes to adhere to and grabbed them from the cooler. After adding the frosting to each cupcake, Brady garnished them with a stuffed strawberry and hit our timer. We were done with two minutes to spare, and Brady carried the plate of cupcakes to the judges to present them. While Darla squirted and spread, huffed and moaned, I stared her down, hoping to unnerve her. It wasn’t the mature thing to do, but after she tried to rip my hair out, I didn’t much care about what was mature.

  She tossed the frosting bag down with a bang, plated the cupcakes, and hit her timer with twenty seconds left to go. After dropping them at the judges' table, she hurried back to hers to start her clean up. She had to be ready to run to the pageant building when the judges finished declaring the winner. Something told me she already knew it wasn’t going to be her. Her cupcakes were probably edible, but the icing was a gloppy mess that looked like she had barely mixed the milk and powdered sugar before plopping it on.

  “I think Darla bit off more than she could chew this year,” Brady said from the side of his lip while we stood in front of our tables. We had to wait for the judges to leave the tent before we could do the same.

  “In her case, I hope she chokes on it,” I said quietly just as Mr. Samson grabbed the microphone.

  “Okay, everyone. We will take a thirty-minute break to judge the cupcakes. Normally, we’d give you an hour, but since we are down one team, it won’t take as long. Please be back here at three for our announcement.”

  They left the stage area, and the audience also dispersed to get refreshments and some fresh air. It was stifling in the building, and I was going to be glad when we could clean up and head over to where Amber was waiting to taste test the new cupcakes. We planned it for three-thirty, but I was happy to have the extra half an hour between jobs. At least the tent Amber was in had more airflow and better fans.

  Brady’s phone rang, and he glanced at the number, his brow going down. “I should take this,” he said, and I motioned him out of the tent.

  “Go ahead. I’ll start cleaning up.”

  He jogged away with his phone to his ear, and I worked on the rest of the clean-up. Since we work as a team, we do the majority of our clean-up as we go. I refused to wash all of my tools in the minuscule sink we had to share with Darla, though, so I’d take them back to the bakery to clean them. Besides, I was not about to deal with Darla when Brady wasn’t around. Thankfully, she didn’t notice that he’d left. She was concentrating on finishing her work, so she could move on to be the next big thing as a beauty queen. I had to fight to keep from rolling my eyes on the off-chance Darla noticed.

  I grabbed my phone, checking the time. It had been ten minutes since Brady left, but it was a Friday, so a vendor might have had a question about our order. I sent Amber a text and let her know we were ahead of schedule and would be there sooner than three-thirty to help her with the cupcakes. All I had left to do was grab a drink of water and wait for the judges to make their decision. I was looking forward to six o’clock tonight when I could go home, take a shower, and fall into bed. My exhaustion was another reason I was ready to be done with this bake-off every year.

  Okay, so if we slept instead of making love all night, I might not be as tired as I am right now, but let’s not get crazy. Besides, I’ve been exhausted for months. Keeping up the pace at the bakery as the business grew was taking a lot out of me. I didn’t need competitions like this one to get customers now. Thankfully, Brady agreed with me when I talked
to him about it on the way over. He was more than happy to take an afternoon to enjoy Strawberry Fest with me and not have to worry about the work involved with the competition. We’d still have our booth, that’s just good business, but we’d be able to spell Amber if we weren’t tied up here, which was a bonus.

  My phone dinged with a text from Amber, telling me she was more than ready to reveal the cupcakes as people were already waiting. I promised to text her the second I knew who won. If it was us, she could break them out before we got there rather than wait. My eyes drifted to the clock on my phone, and it had been fifteen minutes since Brady left. I pushed the cart filled with our supplies to the door and left it on the square marked for Team Fluffy Cupcake, then ducked out of the building to breathe air that wasn’t quite as hot as inside. I searched for Brady, wondering if he’d decided to run to the bathroom before he came back. I had better text him and let him know he was going to be late. Both members of the team had to be present when the judges returned with the results.

  I sent him a quick text saying he better get back inside, then headed to the table to wait for him and the judges. I was glad that Darla was off at the sink cleaning her dishes frantically, so she could get out of the building as soon as the judges announced a winner. She was soaking wet, her hair was a disheveled mess under her flower crown, and her makeup was smeared from wiping her face. Only an amateur wears make-up to a baking competition in the middle of July, I thought, rolling my eyes.

  Brady strode back into the tent, and my heart went pitter-patter, my stomach swooping when I gazed into his handsome face. I was head over heels in love with this man. Maybe the swooping was fear that I was going to lose him when the newness of the relationship wore off, and he realized I had so many issues he’d have to deal with from my past. Then again, most of those issues had disappeared since Brady had been the one loving me every night.

  He put his arm around my waist and his lips near my ear. “I have great news!”

  At that moment, the judges filed back into the room, and Mr. Samson grabbed the microphone. “We have reached a decision. Is everyone here?”