Mann Cakes: A Beach Pointe Romance

by Mysti Parker

  While Tanner enjoyed the close-up view, Garrett scribbled down the info and handed it back. “Thanks.”

  Brittany waved them forward one car length. “You can get out if you want. We have a table with free coffee, and the cupcakes are just a quarter each.”

  “Gotcha.”

  While she bounced away, Tanner reached for the door handle and huffed a laugh. “I get it now. Buttering everyone up with a charity carwash. Who wouldn’t support autism around here? There’s a lot of kids. Probably more than one autistic one in the bunch.”

  “You don’t know the situation. Stop assuming they’re being greedy.”

  Tanner leaned toward Garrett with a harsh whisper, “Well, what is the fucking situation, then, if you know so much about it?”

  Morgan spied them. Her eyes grew wide before she smiled and waved. Ever the strong, silent type, Garrett didn’t say a word, just got out of the Jeep and headed her way.

  Tanner climbed out and went for Paige. She stood at the table putting out new cupcakes, clearly ignoring him. He cleared his throat. She spun around, eyes narrowed, and there came the frown.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Brittany and another of the sorority car wash vixens bounced up to him, all smiles and giggles.

  "Hey, Tanner, this is Emily," Brittany said. "Can she get a pic with you?"

  He glanced at Paige, who had her back to the girls, but he caught a distinct eye roll. Game on. "Sure, come on over."

  Emily couldn't have been more than five foot two, with long brown hair in braids that swung across her tits as she sidled up right next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her sun-kissed skin was warm, her T-shirt damp, nipples poking out nicely beneath her bikini top. Emily angled her cell phone overhead while she did that hand on the hip, chest out, pouty-lipped thing girls do. Tanner flashed his best smile.

  Snap. Done. He gave her a one-armed hug. "I hope you both come back to the shop soon. We have all new recipes debuting next week," and with a pointed look at Paige, he added, "and half-off coupons good for a large cup at Beach Pointe roasters."

  Mouth agape, Emily grabbed Brittany by the arm, "OMG, am I right?"

  "Totally. Let's get Tiffany and Allison." The girls bounced away, motioning their friends to come over.

  Paige had taken over where Emily had abandoned her station. She squatted and took a soapy brush to the Jeep's front left tire. Damn, she looked awesome in that position, her shorts straining against her ass. She looked over her shoulder at him. Tanner threw her a wink-nod. She returned it with a glare.

  Tanner looked around for Garrett, hoping he'd join the selfie invasion. A sudden shower of water drenched his head and shoulders. He wiped his eyes and stared at the culprit.

  Paige innocently rinsed the Jeep, with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, gosh, sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

  "Right." He had half a mind to start a good old-fashioned water fight, but with all the cars still waiting for their turn, he changed his mind. No matter how pissed he was at Paige, he didn't want to keep people from donating to a charity. "No harm done. Water does a body good." He made sure she was watching as he stared at her boobs and whistled.

  "Asshole." She stood and yanked up the wash bucket. Water splashed all over her flip-flopped feet as she moved to another wheel. Was that steam coming off her mad-as-hell red face?

  Then he spotted Garrett, helping Morgan wash the SUV in front of the Jeep. He slapped a soapy sponge on the hood, scrubbed it down, and she followed with a hose, rinsing as they moved along the vehicle's length. The two of them chatted happily like they'd forgotten they were members of rival cupcake gangs.

  Brittany and Emily bounced back over with two more girls.

  "This is Allison and Tiffany. Can they get pics, too?"

  "Sure. Don't forget to tag Mann Cakes when you post them."

  "No problem!" they chimed in unison.

  He gathered one girl under each arm and hugged them up against his sides. They molded their wet bodies against his ribs as each of them snapped pics. Nice. He could get used to this.

  One of the drivers waiting behind the Jeep honked and yelled out his window, "We haven't got all day, pretty boy, get a move on!"

  "Sorry!" He gave the girls a wink-nod as they scurried off to finish their work. "Catch ya later!"

  "Okay!" They all had their eyes plastered on their phones, hitting buttons and giggling.

  Another, harder jet of water hit Tanner smack in the middle of his back. He spun around, about to say some very unsavory things, but Paige had the spray nozzle aimed right at him and sprayed him right between the eyes. He coughed and shook the water from his head like a dog. She grinned, eyebrows arching in a “what are you going to do about it” expression. In that moment, he saw the Paige he remembered in high school, the one he'd fallen in love with. Full of life and laughs, not afraid to take on the world. God, he had missed her.

  The moment passed as quickly as it arrived, with Paige's smile fading, her eyes cast downward. She dropped the hose, then retreated at a fast walk across the parking lot and into the grocery store. Had she felt it too? Was that why she ran away? Did memories of the good times they'd had together hurt her so much she couldn't face them?

  Garrett and Morgan had finished drying the SUV at the front of the line. Tanner got in the Jeep, started it back up, and drove at a snail's pace through the parking lot, going slow to keep the tires from throwing crap onto the few damp spots left behind. Garrett noticed him driving by and lifted a just-a-sec finger. He and Morgan were talking, hands gesturing wildly. Surely they weren't arguing. Morgan spun on her heel and took off toward the store where Paige had gone. Garrett, shoulders slumped, crawled in the Jeep and slammed the door.

  "What was that all about?" Tanner asked.

  Garrett wouldn't look at him. His jaw tightened. "Exactly what I predicted would happen. You had to go and make an ass of yourself just to get to Paige."

  "What's that got to do with you and Morgan arguing?"

  "Everything!" Garrett finally looked at him, his brows sunk into an angry V. "You mess with Paige, you mess with Morgan. Simple as that."

  "So what am I supposed to do about it?"

  "Fix it. Apologize to Paige, and stop being an asshole. You don't have to like her. In fact, it's probably best if you don't even talk to her again."

  "Fine." Tanner hit the pedal, tires spinning as they drove out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Rocks clanked off the chassis as he sped toward the light and slammed on the brakes.

  "You don't have to drive like a maniac, either. Drop me off at the shop." Garrett typed out a text to someone. Probably Morgan.

  "Sorry. Okay."

  Confusion didn't touch what Tanner felt. He was proud of Garrett for showing more emotion than a rock for once. But then he wanted to break his brother's nose for not being on his side. He knew Garrett was right about him being an asshole, which made him even more furious and a little ashamed. And then there was Paige. He couldn't stop thinking about how much he loved her smile, but every time he saw her, he wanted to see how much he could rile her up. The idea of apologizing left a ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, but the idea of never seeing her again left a lump in his throat and a heavy weight in his chest.

  Garrett checked his phone, probably checking to see if Morgan had responded. He sighed and rested his elbow on the passenger door, propping his head up with his fist. Great, now she wasn't talking to him. This crazy rivalry wasn't worth destroying his brother's happiness. Apologizing to Paige might keep things cool between Garrett and Morgan. He'd already apologized years ago about that stupid night with Lisa, and she had refused to accept it. What was he supposed to apologize about now? Moving back home? Opening a business? Breathing? No, he couldn't bring himself to. Not yet.

  Chapter Ten

  The following Saturday, Morgan bounded into the shop, her arms full of goodies from t
he farmers' market. Paige didn't normally purchase her ingredients there, since it was costlier than the grocery, but since Mann Cakes boasted about using locally sourced meat and dairy, she thought they'd give it a try, too. It would mean having to raise prices, but her customers were usually the sort who could absorb a price hike.

  She was tempted to ask Morgan if Tanner and Garrett were there, but she kept quiet. She'd stayed in all week to avoid accidentally running into Tanner. He hadn't called or came over to confront her. Did that mean he still hadn't heard that she had a son? Did it mean he didn't care? Did it mean anything at all?

  “Hey, sis, I got us a spot on LRB at four o’clock,” Morgan said breathlessly as she breezed past the counter and into the kitchen. She put the butter and cream in the fridge.

  “Today?”

  “Yes. I know it’s kind of last minute, but I saw the station manager at the farmers' market and asked if we could get an interview. He said they had someone cancel for today’s show so they needed to fill the spot. I told him we’d do it.”

  “But Listener’s Radio Broadcast? It’s boring as hell. Why bother?”

  “Because all the rich moms listen in—and they’re the ones that like to spend the big bucks on the perfect birthday parties so they’ll outdo the other moms. I’m telling you, parties are where the money’s at. And maybe…” Morgan lifted one shoulder in a bashful shrug. “Maybe we could offer extras on the party packages, like a group painting class.”

  Paige closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Guilt had started giving her headaches. Her poor sister deserved to pursue her own passions instead of being chained to her barely afloat cupcake shop. “Sure, Morgan, we can do that. But, you know Tanner will probably call in and ruin it, offering all the ladies the chance to see him shirtless for buying a dozen cheesy buns or whatever it is they make.”

  “It’s not like we have to tell them we’re going.”

  “You’ve probably already told Garrett. You two are like Siamese twins lately.”

  “Are you kidding? After the way Tanner upset you at the car wash, I told him his brother’s an asshole, and he better keep him away from you.” Morgan pulled out her phone and gazed at the screen with a sad smile. “He did text and apologize, but I haven’t texted him back. Is that bad? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Paige grasped her sister’s shoulders. “I don't know, but he should stop enabling Tanner’s ego anyway. You know what? Let’s do it. It might not help, but it sure can’t hurt. I’ll call Mom and let her know I’ll pick up Ty later.”

  They closed early since business had been extra slow that day and arrived at the Listener’s Radio Broadcast studio a half hour before show time. It appeared to be a seventies’ brick ranch that had been converted into a tiny radio station. A short, wiry man with bushy gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses showed them inside the lobby, which was probably once a kitchen considering the stained vinyl floors, along with an avocado green sink and fridge on the far wall.

  He shook both sisters’ hands. “Douglas Nimoy. No relation to the actor, at least none that I know of. I’ll be your host for the hour. Come, let’s have a seat here until the current show is done.”

  “Thank you for having us, Mr. Nimoy.” That sounded so weird. She couldn’t help glancing at his ears, just in case.

  Paige and Morgan took a seat on a sagging harvest yellow couch. Mr. Nimoy got them some small bottles of water from the fridge. He sat to their right in a floral-patterned armchair and opened a laptop on the coffee table. Across from them was a big clear glass window with a lit up On Air sign above it. A closed door to the left of it probably led into the studio.

  Mr. Nimoy clicked some keys on his laptop. “Pardon me while I make a few social media announcements. Now, I understand you’ve never done a live radio interview before.”

  “No, sir,” Morgan said. “Can you tell us what to expect?”

  He kept typing, staring down his nose at the monitor while he spoke. “Okay, the first thing to remember is don’t be nervous. Pretend we’re old friends just having a quiet chat. We keep the tone very calm and even to avoid the commercial sound of mainstream radio. We’re not trying to sell the listeners a product.”

  “We’re here to plug our business. Won’t that be obvious?” Paige crossed her arms and slid a pointed look at Morgan, who answered with a little shrug.

  “Our listeners prefer information, an educational experience in a relaxed setting.” Mr. Nimoy looked up from his screen and removed his glasses. He pointed them at the girls as he spoke. “But you see, that’s the beauty of it. We entice them with the relaxed style and intellectual conversation so they'll be curious enough to seek you out. Trust me, you want to entice our listeners. They’ve got a lot of expendable cash.” He held up his hand and slid his thumb against his fingers to illustrate the potential big bucks.

  “Hmm, okay.” Paige had to admit that it sort of made sense. She’d never been an LRB fan, preferring classic rock over intellectual conversations. But, if it benefited the business, she could stomach an hour of just about anything.

  Mr. Nimoy looked at his watch. “We’re on air in fifteen minutes. Hopefully our other guests will arrive shortly.”

  “Other guests? What other guests?” Paige threw an accusatory glare at Morgan.

  She responded with a shake of her head and a shrug. Clearly she hadn’t asked about this whole interview thing beyond simply booking a last-minute spot.

  The front door opened, and in stepped the Mann brothers, of all people. Tanner froze for a second, his hand on the doorknob, before he recovered with a wickedly handsome smile and shut the door behind them. They both wore gray Air Force T-shirts, camo pants, and black combat boots. And here she was in her flour-dusted polo shirt and jeans. She could see every muscle underneath Tanner’s shirt, the firm butt under his pants, and even a hint of the bulge between his legs. Shit—why did he have to look so hot? Even his blond hair was perfectly cut, his strong jawline smooth shaven. The dimple in his chin taunted her. She remembered dipping her tongue into that spot and kissing those full lips of his numerous times. Every part of him had been imprinted into her memory despite her attempts to erase it. He’d probably been with so many women, he didn’t remember what it was like with her, and probably didn’t care to.

  She must have let her eyes linger too long if the cocky grin on his face was any indication. Garrett, on the other hand, cast a longing look at Morgan, who gave him puppy eyes back.

  “Gag me with a spoon,” Paige said under her breath.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Tanner said. “We had a group from the culinary school visit for a field trip. We’ll probably have to start offering cooking classes. The girls can’t get enough of Garrett’s skills.”

  “I bet.” Morgan’s puppy dog eyes narrowed. Good. Maybe she’d be in proper fighting mode now.

  Poor Garrett looked uncomfortable as he took a seat in a plastic lawn chair under the studio window.

  Mr. Nimoy got up and exchanged a handshake with Tanner. “No problem. You mentioned you’ve done radio interviews before, if I understand correctly.”

  “Oh yeah, lots of times.” He slid an ultra-confident glance and wink at Paige.

  She rolled her eyes and picked up her water bottle, giving the lid a choke-hold twist before guzzling half of it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, but why exactly are they here?”

  “Oh, um…” Mr. Nimoy scratched his head, looking between the four of them as if finally picking up on the tension. “You see, the Manns here had already booked a spot, along with the folks at Fudgey’s Chocolates, but they had to cancel. We like to host two similar small businesses at a time so they can share their common struggles and anecdotes—listeners like the feeling of solidarity.”

  “But we’re competitors,” Paige said, avoiding Tanner’s smug face. “And quite frankly, we don’t get along.”

  “I don’t have a problem with them. Do you, Garrett?” Tanner said innocently.
/>   “No.” Garrett resumed staring at her sister like they were star-crossed lovers in a Shakespearean tragedy.

  Mr. Nimoy rubbed his chin. “That’s unfortunate, Miss Baxter, but the listeners don’t know that. Nor do they have to. Focus on your commonalities, your charitable ventures, that sort of thing.”

  “Yeah, yeah, the warm fuzzies. We got it,” Morgan said. “Right, sis? We can get along with our competition for an hour, can’t we?”

  “Sure, why not?” Paige downed the rest of her water, wishing it were something stronger.

  The On Air sign went dark.

  “We’re up,” Mr. Nimoy said.

  They followed him into the studio. The previous guest, a very stern-looking older woman wearing a gray pant suit with an American flag pin on the lapel, scowled at them. She picked up her clipboard and marched by without a word. Pre-recorded commercials played in the background.

  “That’s Sue Denver. She’s an author who writes about the evils of government and the…” Mr. Nimoy cleared his throat. “The excessive presence of the U.S. military overseas.”

  “Not very patriotic, if you ask me,” Tanner said.

  The unfortunate host who had just interviewed her, a young woman with spiky blonde hair, set her headphones down and groaned. “I hate that woman. You’re getting her next time, Doug.”

  Mr. Nimoy laughed. “Deal.”

  Tanner winked at the girl. She blushed and bit her lip, a sure sign of wanting to jump his bones. Then she met Paige’s eyes, came to her senses, and hurried out.

  “Jealous much?” Tanner whispered.

  “Whatever. You’re the one following me around to hog the publicity.”

  “Hey, we had this spot booked already. Can’t blame me for this one.”

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Mr. Nimoy led the dueling foursome to some high stools at a tall table. Computer monitors sat on one end. Five microphones with bright red foam windscreens were set up in the middle, along with five pairs of headphones.