Batter Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls Book 1)

by Robyn Neeley

  She hoped he wasn’t any of the guys who would stop by tonight. The last thing she wanted was to see Caitlin’s name swirling in her batter.

  Not that she had much control over the matter. The enchanted mixture seemed to have a mind of its own. It had been two months since the mysterious letter J incident. It hadn’t made sense that night, and it still didn’t. Emma chalked it up to Abby being a beginner.

  She drove down the gravel path to the main road that took her to the heart of town. Five minutes later, she pulled into the Sugar Spoon. It was another gorgeous summer day with highs in the mid-eighties. Not a cloud in the sky.

  Their customers were enjoying the new patio furniture she and Abby had purchased last month. She waved to Mr. and Mrs. Davis, an elderly couple who always stopped by the bakery for a sweet treat after lunch at the Star Lite. They’d been married for over fifty years, and Emma was pretty sure Mr. Davis had been one of her grandmother’s first bachelors to benefit from Batter Up back in the day.

  She parked in the back next to Abby’s blue Honda Civic and entered through the bakery’s rear door. Abby came barreling over, her eyes wide.

  “Emma! Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get here.”

  “Someone’s excited.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

  “Wait till you get a load of the guy sitting at the counter.” Abby reached into her apron pocket, pulled out a tube of lip gloss, and rolled it over her lips.

  “Who?”

  “This incredibly, drop-dead gorgeous man.” She grabbed a spoon, checked her reflection, and ran a finger over the gloss. “Like amazingly hot.”

  Emma laughed. “Oh, my. A sexy guy in our bakery? Whatever should we do? Call the police?”

  “I know what I’d like to do and it definitely could involve handcuffs.” Abby leaned back on the sink, fanning her face.

  “Seriously, Abs, you’re acting like you’ve never seen a cute guy before.” Emma turned her back to her cousin and began inspecting her weekly inventory.

  “Not one like this. He’s definitely not from around here.” She pushed off the sink. “Wait till you get a load of him. His blue eyes . . . wow!”

  Blue eyes. Emma froze and turned to face her cousin. “How blue?”

  Abby smirked. “As blue as Buttermilk Lake.”

  Emma crossed the kitchen and pushed the door open just a crack. The pit in her stomach grew larger by the second. Sure enough. The rude stranger from the Star Lite was sitting at her counter. This time he had on a black polo that showed off his muscular, tanned arms. “Just great,” she said flatly.

  “What, you know him?” Abby crossed her arms. “I still call dibs.”

  Emma scoffed. “You can have him. He’s an ass.” She moved back inside the kitchen and reached for her pink gingham apron hanging on a hook. Tying the pink belt behind her back, her heart beat loudly against the fabric. “How long has he been here?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “Has he ordered?”

  “Only a chocolate chip muffin and coffee. Said he’s saving room for a cupcake.”

  “He is, is he?” Emma’s eyes narrowed. Time to find out what the annoying stranger wanted. If her suspicions were right, it wasn’t good. She squared her shoulders and exited the kitchen, walking over to Mr. Jerk. He was bent down, typing away on his laptop. Did he take that stupid thing everywhere he went?

  “What can I get you, sir?”

  He looked up, and she could tell he instantly recognized her from the Star Lite. “We meet again.” He tossed her a crooked grin.

  She caught it and heaved it back with a fake smile of her own. “So we do.”

  “It’s okay if I sit here?” He pointed down at his barstool. “It’s not reserved, is it?”

  Agitation crept up the back of her neck. “Only for paying customers who aren’t incessantly rude.” She looked around the bakery. “But since you’re the only one in here, what can I get you?”

  “Are you Emma Stevens?”

  “Yes.” How did he know her name? Did Abby tell him?

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason.” He extended his hand.

  The moment she took it, an electric shock went straight through her. She instantly pulled her hand away, tucking it inside her apron pocket. She rubbed her fingers against the lining, trying to get the remnants of his touch off of her. Her fingers still tingled. “Are you interested in something from the bakery?”

  “I thought I’d get a cupcake.” He grinned and leaned forward, propping his elbow up and cupping his chin with his hand. He whispered, “You know. A magical one.”

  Emma took a step back. Who the hell was this guy and what was he up to? He obviously was referring to the batter but had no idea what he was talking about. Why was he snooping? She glanced down at his laptop.

  She needed to play it cool. It wasn’t the first time nosy outsiders had tried to get the story on the bakeshop’s Monday night activity. She knew exactly what to do. “You’ve come to the right place, Mr.?”

  “Levine.”

  “Mr. Levine. Are you from around here?”

  “No, just in town for a week.”

  “I see. Well, it’ll take a few minutes.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  I bet you do. She sauntered into the kitchen. Out of sight, she dashed into her office.

  “What’s going on?” Abby set two cupcake tins in the oven and closed the door.

  “I’m about to find out.” Emma turned on her computer and sat down. Within seconds, she typed in “Jason Levine.” A slew of links appeared from the Miami Herald. She clicked on the top one and blew out a breath. “I knew it! He’s a flippin’ reporter. Why that little weasel.”

  Abby looked over her shoulder as they both stared at the handsome headshot of the man currently sitting at the counter in the Sugar Spoon. “Figures. Look at that photo. He’s damn sexy.” She sighed and flopped down on Emma’s comfy beige sofa. “There’s no way he’s single.”

  Emma sprang up and headed to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Abby called out before following Emma back into the kitchen.

  Grabbing a mixing bowl and ingredients, Emma set them down and got to work. “Our arrogant and nosy reporter wants a magical cupcake. Let’s give him one.” She began sifting flour into the bowl. “Abby, go talk to him. Find out what you can. Talk loud so I can hear everything he says.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Abby saluted and left the kitchen. Seconds later, she began completing Emma’s order. “So handsome stranger, what brings you to these parts?” She raised her voice so Emma could hear.

  Emma stirred the mixture, both ears concentrating on the conversation between Abby and Jason. He didn’t say much, only that he was in town visiting friends, was enjoying Buttermilk Falls, and had heard about Emma’s specialty. He had a sweet tooth and couldn’t wait to try one.

  “So, are you single?” Abby asked.

  Emma’s ears perked up, but she didn’t hear Jason’s response.

  She couldn’t believe a reporter from the Miami Herald was in her bakeshop. Sure, other reporters had tried to get the scoop on her matchmaking skills, but no one from such a large newspaper. The fact that this guy asked for a magical cupcake was bad, very bad. He knew something. She needed to get him out of her bakery—luckily, she had added just the right ingredient that would do exactly that.

  Smiling down at the mixture, she sauntered out of the kitchen with the mixing bowl and wooden spoon in hand. It wasn’t her grandmother’s spoon. She wouldn’t need it for this batch. “Mr. Levine, who told you about my special cupcakes?” She continued to mix the batter. “I’d like to thank them.”

  “Tom and Bridget Reed.”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. That certainly wasn’t the answer she expected. “How do you know Tom and Bridget?”

  Jason chuckled. “I was at their wedding.”

  “Really? In Las Vegas?” She highly doubted her high school friends knew this pomp
ous ass, let alone invited him to their wedding. At least, she hoped not.

  “Yep.” He reached down and grabbed his phone from the counter. Touching his screen, he held it up so Emma could see. “Check it out.”

  Sure enough, there was Bridget centered between Jason and some guy she didn’t recognize.

  Next to Jason was Caitlin Reynolds, with her bony arms draped around him and Tom.

  A wave of nausea threatened to knock her over. Oh, God. Was this the stranger who Caitlin was currently shacking up with? Her mom had said he was handsome, and there was no denying Jason Levine was indeed attractive. She’d even seen dimples in his smile. Play it cool, Emma. Play it cool.

  She spooned up a huge dollop of batter. “So, Jason. Are you ready?” She asked in a suggestive voice.

  “Sure.” He closed his laptop. His eyes danced with amusement.

  “Here’s what I need you to do. Close your eyes.”

  He obediently shut them. Emma couldn’t help but take this opportunity to stare at his handsome face. Her eyes lingered on his full lips. Stop it, Emma. He’s the enemy.

  “Everything okay?” Jason opened one eye.

  “Keep both eyes closed.” She reached for his hand and inserted the spoon. “Repeat after me. ‘Batter I’m about to taste. Show me my true love, do not haste.’”

  Abby giggled. Emma put her finger to her lips, motioning her cousin to be quiet.

  Jason repeated the chant, eyes still closed. “Now what?”

  “You eat the spoonful. You have to do it in one large swallow, got it?”

  “Okay, easy enough.” He shoved the spoon in his mouth. Within seconds, his eyes flew open and he reached for his throat, gasping for air. “Water,” he choked out.

  Abby rushed over with a water pitcher and glass. He drank the full glass and demanded another. His eyes red and watery. Little droplets of sweat began to form on his forehead.

  Emma smiled and picked up the mixing bowl, hugging it tight to her chest. “I think you should leave now. This stool is no longer available.”

  Jason stood and shook his head. “You got me good, Ms. Stevens.” He grabbed his laptop and started for the door, still coughing.

  Abby rushed over and handed him a bottle of water. “For the road.”

  “Thanks.”

  Turning back to Emma, she grinned. Something was forming in her cousin’s pretty little head. “So, Jason, does anyone call you J?”

  “What?” Jason turned around. He twisted the bottle cap and took a large swallow.

  “You know. Just by your initial?” She handed him a napkin.

  “My mom did.” He took another drink and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “I see.” Abby shot Emma a smug expression.

  Emma walked over and crossed her arms, her voice firm and in control. “Get out of my bakery, Mr. Levine. There’s no story here.”

  5

  EMMA STORMED across the library parking lot and headed into the red-brick building. Still reeling over her encounter an hour ago with the unwelcomed out-of-towner, she needed to get some answers from Bridget. In the small, one-floor library, it didn’t take long to spot her friend standing in the children’s section, her arms full with colorful hardbound books.

  “Emma! What are you doing here?” Bridget asked. The head librarian shot them both a warning look. Bridget always had a difficult time talking in a low voice.

  “I’ve come to see you. Here, let me help,” Emma whispered, grabbing some books from Bridget’s grasp. A Nancy Drew one rested on top. She’d always loved that series growing up. Her mom had kept her old books to one day read to Emma. Once they started a book, they would read a chapter every night before bed until it was done. She smiled down at the memory, forgetting for a second why she was here.

  She sighed. Perhaps she should re-read The Clue in the Diary after all these years and see if it had any tips for uncovering why a nosy city reporter was so fascinated by her cupcakes.

  “I’m glad you stopped by.” Bridget straightened her glasses, sliding them up her nose.

  “Really?” Emma raised an eyebrow.

  Bridget nodded. “Yeah, the other librarians and I were just talking about you this afternoon. The Buttermilk Bachelors Summer Fling auction is Wednesday night. We’re hoping to order some sweet treats from your bakery.” She winked. “Not the special ones.”

  Emma smirked. She had forgotten about the popular summer event that raised money annually for a local charity. This year, the proceeds were going to the town’s animal shelter. Money raised would allow the shelter to expand and create a separate area for the cats and dogs to visit with prospective adopters. Right now, they had to share the one visiting room, and the barking always scared the poor kitties.

  The shelter was important to Emma. It was there, five years ago, that Magic had picked her as his owner. “Count me in for whatever you need.” She was happy to support the fundraiser. “Did enough bachelors sign up?”

  “Think so. We had twenty the last time I checked. They’re not all from Buttermilk Falls.” She grabbed more books off her library cart. “We’re not that strict anymore. Last year, we opened it up to guys from neighboring towns and made a killing. I bet we’ll get to forty bachelors before Wednesday.”

  “Wow.” Emma smiled. The Summer Fling auction attracted single women from all around. It made sense to open it up to bachelors from surrounding areas, too. The idea was simple. Bid on a bachelor and that guy became your summer fling for casual picnics, movie nights in the park, softball games, and the town’s annual end-of-summer Final Fling celebration.

  Participants really got into it. It was all-out war between some of the women desperate to take home a fling. Many of the couples dated long after the summer, and some even ended up married. Every once in a while, one of the bachelors would pay Emma a visit on Monday night, hoping to see his fling’s name in her batter. It usually worked out in his favor and gave him the extra confidence he needed to move the relationship from casual to something more serious.

  These summer flings were also good for her business. Many date nights often involved a stop at the Sugar Spoon. She had a special “Summer Fling” cherry vanilla cupcake just for the occasion. It was her most popular summer item.

  What would it be like to have her own summer fling? She had never bid on a bachelor. Didn’t need to since she’d been with Michael. Now that that was no longer the case, maybe she should consider participating this year. Since the breakup, she’d gone on a couple forgettable dates. It might be fun to have a summer fling, and it was definitely time to get back in the game.

  She’d give it some thought. Right now, she needed to channel Nancy Drew and get down to the Jason Levine mystery. “So, Mrs. Reed . . .”

  Bridget giggled and headed to the shelves, bending down to return the books to their proper place. “I really do love the sound of that. Those books go over here.” She pointed to the bottom shelf. “You can just stack them together.”

  Emma crouched down beside her friend and wedged the books onto the shelf. “When did you get back from Vegas?”

  “Late Saturday night. It was a long day of traveling.”

  “You had a nice time?”

  “Did we! It was so much fun. I wish you could have been there.”

  “Me, too.” Emma stood and straightened her pink ruffled T-shirt. That wasn’t entirely true. Part of the reason she declined their invitation was because Caitlin, Bridget’s cousin, was the maid of honor. Bridget had always been good at not taking sides when it came to her friendships with both women. Still, Emma decided it would be best if she didn’t go to Vegas.

  “So . . . I met one of your out-of-town friends today at my bakery.”

  “Out-of-town friend? Who?”

  “Jason?”

  “Who?” Bridget stood and reached over for more books.

  “Jason Levine.”

  “Oh, that Jason. God, I totally forgot he was in Buttermilk Falls. I don’t really know him.”


  “Really? Aren’t you friends?” The picture Jason had showed her earlier made it look like they were all long-lost pals.

  “No. Not really. We just met him before the wedding.”

  Emma grew impatient. She also needed to get back to the bakeshop. “Did you know he was a reporter doing a story on Batter Up?”

  Her eyes widened. “Jason’s a reporter?”

  “You didn’t know?” Emma asked, not bothering to mask her skepticism.

  “No, I swear I didn’t. Oh my God, Emma. What happened?”

  “Nothing . . . yet. He came in today asking for a magical cupcake. I gave him one full of hot sauce.”

  Bridget snickered. “You didn’t?”

  “Lit his mouth on fire.” Emma smiled at the memory.

  “Poor guy.”

  “Poor guy, my ass!” Mouthing “sorry” to the woman at the circulation desk, Emma lowered her voice. “He deserved it. You should have seen how arrogant he was.”

  “He’s actually quite nice.”

  Emma doubted Jason Levine had a nice bone in his body. How had he fooled her friends? “Why was he at your wedding? Is he a friend of Tom’s?”

  “No. Like I said, we literally met him in Vegas. We sort of picked him and his friend, Brandon, up at my bachelorette party.”

  “Who told him about the bakery?” Her eyes narrowed. “Was it Caitlin?”

  “I don’t think so.” She looked up at the ceiling in thought. “It might have been Tom. We were all pretty tipsy that night. Tom hung out with Jason at the chapel while I was putting on my wedding dress.” Her hand flew over her mouth. “Oh, Emma. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Emma hadn’t meant to make Bridget feel bad. She gave her friend a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I can handle Mr. Levine.”

  * * *

  JASON SAT on the edge of the dock, watching the sun set over the lake. It had been a while since he had taken in a sunset, letting its beauty entrance him. He used to all the time from his Miami Beach balcony. Not anymore.

  Dangling his legs, his bare feet skimmed the refreshing water. He watched a small motorboat in the distance. An older couple waved hello as they sped by, and he waved back. Everyone was so damn friendly in Buttermilk Falls.