Taste of Romance

by Darlene Panzera

  “I’ve found I like decorating cupcakes as much as I like painting,” she told her. “And by staying with Creative Cupcakes, I can do both. Besides, we’re a team.” She glanced at Meredith and narrowed her eyes. “Except for that one.”

  Walking over to the hawk-eyed, teenage redhead, she arched a brow and announced, “Meredith, you’re fired.”

  The girl scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You can’t fire me. Andi, tell her how valuable I am.”

  Andi shook her head. “Kim is co-owner of this shop, and if she says you’re fired, then you’re fired.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Andi continued. “Kim has a right to make her own decisions.”

  “So do I,” Guy said. He walked over to Andi and handed her a check for $20,000. “I decided I don’t need a Harley after all. My wild days on the motorcycle are behind me, and it’s never helped me pick up chicks.”

  The Romance Writers group who met in the shop on Tuesdays also brought in a donation, as did the parents of all the children involved in the kids’ cupcake camp that Andi had started as an afternoon program. The dateless women who commiserated with each other at the Saturday Night Cupcake Club and friends from the local police station also gave money.

  “Can’t have our favorite cupcake shop go out of business,” Officer Ian Lockwell told them.

  “No, we can’t,” William Burke agreed.

  Kim jumped back with a jolt of surprise. She hadn’t seen her father drift in with the crowd.

  “Dad!” Andi exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  Kim watched her father fiddle with his wallet, turning it over in his hand, while looking around at the shop filled with people.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and looked right at her, his eyes moist. “Your mother loved to dream. My dream was to keep you all safe, even if that meant talking you out of things you wanted to do from time to time. I tried to steer you toward what I thought was best. I was wrong when I tried to discourage you from opening the cupcake shop. You’ve worked hard for this, and . . . I’m proud of you.” He shifted his gaze to Andi. “I’m proud of all of you.”

  “So am I,” Rachel’s mother said, drawing near. “You’ve all inspired me to pursue my own dream. Since I took out the old Singer sewing machine to alter Rachel’s wedding dress, I decided I liked it so much I want to open a bridal shop!”

  “That’s wonderful,” Andi said, her voice excited. “Maybe you can work on my wedding dress, too.”

  “And mine,” Kim said and blushed. “I didn’t mean a wedding dress for me, but a bridesmaid dress. I’ll need two of them, one for each wedding.”

  Kim thought she saw a glimmer of warmth pass through her father’s eyes as he looked at Rachel’s mom. But Sarah Donovan locked her gaze on Guy, who stepped forward, took her hand, and drew her away with a bigger grin on his face than Kim had ever seen.

  “Do you have enough money to buy the shop?” Kim’s father asked, turning his attention back to them.

  Kim looked at Andi, who hesitated, then shook her head.

  “We’re still short.”

  “I’ll make up the difference,” he told them, “and you can repay me when you can.”

  Kim looked at her sister. “We can buy the building!”

  “I—I don’t know what to say, Dad,” Andi said, tears welling in her eyes. “Except—thank you.”

  He took a step closer and draped an arm across each of their shoulders in what Kim thought he meant as a hug. This was a huge step for a man who had nearly strained their relationship beyond repair.

  “Yes,” Kim said and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Dream big,” he told them. “And make Creative Cupcakes a success.”

  AFTER SIGNING THE papers transferring ownership of the building into their names the following morning, Kim, Andi, and Rachel took one of their biggest chocolate chip cupcakes with chocolate butter cream frosting to the hospital for Grandpa Lewy.

  “The doctors said they may have misdiagnosed your grandfather,” Bernice told them, her hand intertwined with Rachel’s grandfather’s. “He has a severe bladder infection, which often produces the same characteristics of Alzheimer’s. They say it must have been building in his system for several months.”

  Rachel’s mouth popped open. “Do you mean he can get better?”

  “What do you mean, ‘get better’?” he asked. “What’s wrong with me now?”

  “You’ve been hiding our cupcakes in your memory box and taking them out of our store,” Rachel told him. “We lost a lot of money.”

  Grandpa Lewy opened the memory box covered with photos of Rachel and her parents, and some older ones of the time he spent as a young man with Bernice. “You mean this money?”

  Everyone in the room drew in their breath as they all stared at the assortment of fives, tens, and twenties.

  “I didn’t eat all of the cupcakes,” Grandpa Lewy said and chuckled. “I sold some for you at the festival and at the center. The nurses there won’t let us have any sweets. I knew if the head nurse caught me, I’d be in trouble, but . . . the sweetest things in life are worth the risk.”

  His words pierced Kim’s heart, and she thought of Nathaniel. He was probably already at the airport, waiting to board his plane, which would leave in three hours.

  “Grandpa Lewy is right,” Kim said, her heart leaping. “Sometimes the sweetest things are worth a little risk.”

  As if reading her mind, Rachel asked, “How many roses did Nathaniel bring you in that last bouquet?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “That means, ‘I will remember our romantic moments,’” Rachel interpreted.

  “I don’t want to just remember them,” Kim said. “I want to live them.”

  “Do you need a ride to the airport?” Andi asked, a smile hovering on the edge of her lips.

  Kim thought her insides would cave in and collapse into a muddled heap at the bottom of her stomach. “I gave all the money I’d saved for the art gallery and all the profits from my paintings to help buy the building for Creative Cupcakes. I don’t have money for a ticket.”

  “Use this,” Rachel said, handing her the money from Grandpa Lewy’s memory box.

  “Are you sure?” Kim asked, staring at what looked to be close to $2,000.

  “The cupcake shop is safe, thanks to your contributions,” Andi told her. “Do you have your passport?”

  All at once the world seemed to spin, leaving her breathless and excited all at the same time.

  “Yes, my passport is always with me, always in my pocket next to my wings pin,” she said, pulling it out and flapping the booklet in the air. “Ready to fly!”

  Chapter Ten

  * * *

  Real love stories never have endings.

  —Richard Bach

  “HOW CAN I get to the airport in time?” Kim asked, as they stood by the waterfront outside the Astoria hospital. She closed her cell phone. “The cab company says they can’t get here for another fifteen minutes.”

  Andi shook her head. “Jake’s busy working at the office, and he took my car.”

  “Mike’s meeting a movie producer interested in hiring him to build set models,” Rachel added. “He said he wouldn’t be able to pick us back up for another hour, and my mother’s car is in the repair shop.”

  “And I don’t have a car,” Kim said, searching her brain for an answer.

  “We have the Cupcake Mobile,” Andi suggested.

  “But you can’t drive with your sprained foot, and Rachel and I can’t drive a stick shift,” Kim told her. “What about our new recruits? Aren’t any of them at the shop?”

  Andi shook her head. “Only Heather, who is babysitting Mia and Taylor, and she doesn’t have her driver’s license.”

  “What about Guy?” Rachel suggested. “He just got his license back, and he’s the one who sold us the Cupcake Mobile in the first place.”

  Kim punched his number into her cell phone. “Guy, if you
aren’t in the middle of giving someone a tattoo I could really use your help.”

  FIVE MINUTES LATER the Cupcake Mobile rattled around the corner to pick them up.

  “No problems?” Kim asked. “Heather found the keys?”

  Guy hesitated. “Yeah, but I have to warn you. I haven’t driven an enclosed vehicle in over twenty years. I may be a little rusty.”

  Rusty was an understatement. The Cupcake Mobile lurched forward and backward every time Guy had to shift or use the clutch. Kim gripped the seat in front of her on either side, squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. Flying couldn’t be any harder than surviving this ride.

  Glancing at her watch, she marked another minute had passed since the last time she looked at it.

  “Can’t this truck go any faster?” she asked.

  “Sorry,” Guy told her. “The thing’s an antique. She can only handle fifty-five miles an hour without falling apart.”

  After a two-hour ride, the clinking, clattering Cupcake Mobile pulled up to the drop-off curb with only forty-five minutes to spare.

  “They could already be boarding,” Rachel warned. “Andi, how are you doing with that foot?”

  “It hurts, but I can hobble,” Andi said, limping behind them through the airport entrance.

  Kim got in line at the ticket counter, murmuring, “Faith can move mountains. Faith can move mountains. Faith can move mountains.”

  Right now she’d be happy if it just moved this line in front of her. What if she couldn’t get her ticket in time? How long before the next flight? Would she have to fly alone?

  She’d tried to call Nathaniel on his cell phone several times but got no answer. On her fourth try, his brother picked up and said Nathaniel had left the phone with him.

  “Inconceivable!” Rachel exclaimed. “Who can travel without a phone?”

  “Someone who isn’t expecting any calls,” Andi said and shuffled forward as the people in front of them finally parted.

  “I need a ticket to Göteborg, Sweden, with a stopover flight in Amsterdam, leaving at three o’clock,” Kim said, leaning over the counter. “Can you tell me if passenger Nathaniel Sjölander has checked in for that flight?”

  “Yes, he’s checked in,” the ticket lady confirmed after checking.

  Rachel gasped. “Kim’s going to need clothes, toiletries, and makeup.”

  Andi agreed. “You go that way, and I’ll go the other, and we’ll all meet up at the security gate.”

  Kim counted the seconds as Rachel and Andi split up in search of supplies from the airport shops lining the corridor.

  “I don’t believe we have any seats left,” the ticket agent said, searching the computer screen in front of her. “Wait. Here’s one. Do you have any luggage?”

  “No,” Kim said.

  The woman leaned her head around the counter to look at her. “No carry-on bag?”

  “Please,” Kim said, handing the agent her passport and wishing the woman would hurry. “Just the ticket.”

  “I’ll call ahead and tell them to hold the plane,” the woman told her. “But if you don’t hurry, they’ll close the door.”

  Kim ran toward the security gate, ticket in hand with only thirty minutes to go . . . and skidded to a stop in front of Nathaniel, who was on his way back out.

  He gave her an incredulous look. “Kimberly, what are you doing here?”

  Kim longed to fling herself into his arms, gaze into his eyes, kiss him, and tell him how just standing beside him made her heart skip right off the charts. But there would be plenty of time for that later, once they were in Sweden and the clock was no longer an issue.

  For now, she simply held up her ticket. “I decided I couldn’t stay and let you leave me behind.”

  His blue eyes sparkled, and his mouth curved into a wide grin. “I decided I couldn’t go if you weren’t coming with me.”

  Kim gasped. “Really?”

  “Really.” Nathaniel drew her close and kissed her lips, his breath warm against her cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes were lit with mischief. “Ready for a taste of adventure?”

  Kim felt as if her happiness would explode inside her if she didn’t smile and let at least some of it out. “Actually, I think I’m ready for a taste of romance.”

  “I think I can remedy that,” he assured her.

  With a clap of running feet, Andi and Rachel both ran toward them from opposite directions.

  Andi reached her first. “Here’s a backpack, an Oregon Ducks sweatshirt—because Sweden is cold—a travel toothbrush, and a candy bag of red Swedish fish.”

  “I bought you perfume, lipstick, a CD player, and a Rosetta Stone translator program,” Rachel told her. “You can learn the language on the plane.”

  Nathaniel laughed. “We do speak English.”

  Kim gave both her sister and Rachel a big hug. “Take care of Creative Cupcakes until I get back,” she told them.

  “We’ll keep up with our notes in the Cupcake Diary via email,” Andi promised. “But remember you’ll have to come back for my wedding in September.”

  Rachel nodded. “And mine at Christmas.”

  “No need to worry,” Nathaniel told them. “I only planned to stay in Sweden a month.”

  “A month?” Kim asked. “You said if your mother had her way, you’d stay there forever.”

  Nathaniel grinned. “If my mother had her way, ja. But I make my own decisions, and my home is now in Astoria. Still want to come with me?”

  “Yes,” Kim said, and taking his hand, she started to move through the security line toward the fulfillment of her dreams.

  “Wait! I almost forgot!” Running up to the gate, Andi gave her one last item—the one thing that meant as much to her as her passport.

  A paintbrush.

  Recipe for

  COCONUT MACAROON CUPCAKES

  From Patty Emmert of Port Orchard, Washington

  3 cups coconut

  2/3 cup sugar

  1 egg white

  6 Tbsp. cake flour

  ½ tsp. baking powder

  ½ tsp. almond extract

  1 egg white

  Candied cherries

  Combine coconut, 1/3 cup sugar, and 1 egg white in a double boiler. Cook over boiling water until hot, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat.

  Sift flour and baking powder together. Add to coconut mixture.

  Add almond extract. Mix well.

  Beat the other egg white in a separate bowl until foamy. Add remaining sugar gradually, 2 teaspoons at a time. Continue beating until the mixture will stand in soft peaks. Fold into the coconut mixture.

  Place paper liners into 8 muffin pans and fill with batter. Top with cherries.

  Bake in a slow oven (325°) for about 25 minutes.

  Makes 8.

  Keep reading for excerpts from the first two books in The Cupcake Diaries series,

  SWEET ON YOU

  and

  RECIPE FOR LOVE

  now available from Avon Impulse.

  An Excerpt from

  THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: SWEET ON YOU

  Forget love . . . I’d rather fall in chocolate!

  —Author unknown

  ANDI CAST A glance over the rowdy karaoke crowd to the man sitting at the front table with the clear plastic bakery box in his possession.

  “What am I supposed to say?” she whispered, looking back at her sister, Kim, and their friend Rachel as the three of them huddled together. “Can I have your cupcake? He’ll think I’m a lunatic.”

  “Say ‘please,’ and tell him about our tradition,” Kim suggested.

  “Offer him money.” Rachel dug through her dilapidated Gucci knockoff purse and withdrew a ten-dollar bill. “And let him know we’re celebrating your sister’s birthday.”

  “You did promise me a cupcake for my birthday,” Kim said with an impish grin. “Besides, the guy doesn’t look like he plans to eat it. He hasn’t even glanced at the cupcake since the old woman came in and delivere
d the box.”

  Andi tucked a loose strand of her dark blond hair behind her ear and drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t used to taking food from anyone. Usually she was on the other end—giving it away. Her fault. She didn’t plan ahead.

  Why couldn’t any of the businesses here be open twenty-four hours like in Portland? Out of the two dozen eclectic cafes and restaurants along the Astoria waterfront promising to satisfy customers’ palates, shouldn’t at least one cater to late-night customers like herself? No, they all shut down at 10:30, some earlier, as if they knew she was coming. That’s what she got for living in a small town. Anticipation but no cake.

  However, she was determined not to let her younger sister down. She’d promised Kim a cupcake for her twenty-sixth birthday, and she’d try her best to procure one, even if it meant making a fool of herself.

  Andi shot her ever-popular friend Rachel a wry look. “You know you’re better at this than I am.”

  Rachel grinned. “You’re going to have to start interacting with the opposite sex again sometime.”

  Maybe. But not on the personal level, Rachel’s tone suggested. Andi’s divorce the previous year had left behind a bitter aftertaste no amount of sweet talk could dissolve.

  Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “Tonight, all I want is the cupcake.”

  ANDI HAD TAKEN only a few steps when the man with the bakery box turned his head and smiled.

  He probably thought she was coming over, hoping to find a date. Why shouldn’t he? The Captain’s Port was filled with people looking for a connection, if not for a lifetime, then at least for the hour or so they shared within the friendly confines of the restaurant’s casual, communal atmosphere.

  She hesitated midstep before continuing forward. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue tie and sport jacket, he was even better looking than she’d first thought. Thirtyish. Light brown hair, fair skin with an evening shadow along his jaw, and the most amazing gold-flecked, chocolate brown eyes she’d ever seen. Oh my. He could have his pick of any woman in the place. Any woman in Astoria, Oregon.