My Sugar Cookie (Man Card Book 15)

by Terra Kelly

  My Sugar Cookie

  Man Card Book Fifteen

  Terra Kelly

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  A note from the author

  Join TK’s Newsletter!

  About the Author

  Also by Terra Kelly

  Books by T.M. Kelly

  Acknowledgments

  Synopsis

  Thanks to my sister, I was now a contestant on a special Holiday Baking Competition.

  Oh, and it was definitely going to be special...

  The first day on the set and everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

  Thankfully, Millie one of the other contestants on the show was not only a baker...she’s also a hot firefighter...

  The man card series is a collection of short stories that are full of steamy romance. You're guaranteed that perfect happy ending and a cupboard full of sweets from all the cravings.

  One

  Kris

  “Did you find out what ‘special’ really means for the competition?” Morgan grabbed the rolling pin from my hand. “That’s probably something you’ll want to know since you don’t do well under pressure.”

  “I do just fine under pressure.” I pulled the rolling pin back and started to spread my sugar cookie dough out thinner. “How different could it be from the one you were just in?”

  “Have you watched The Baker’s Network before?” she said sarcastically and grabbed the bowl of red royal icing. “The final competitions of the season always have crazy challenges and minimal time to complete the rounds.”

  “Wait.” I stopped rolling out the dough. “Who said I don’t work well under pressure?” I pointed the rolling pin at my sister’s face. “I competed against you last year.”

  “And you placed third.” She spooned some icing into a piping bag. “My snowman was proportionately better than yours.”

  “You’re an ass.” I pulled the piping bag out of her hands. “My snowman was perfectly made. The only reason you beat me was because one of the judges had a thing for you.”

  Morgan gasped. “What? That is so not true. You’re just a sore loser.” She was laughing as she untied her apron and dropped it onto the counter. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, Mr. I-freak-out-when-being-timed.” Before she turned to leave she stuck her tongue out at me.

  I rolled my eyes and struggled not to laugh. “One, you suck.” I rested my hands on the counter. “And two, I do perfectly well when being timed.”

  “We’ll see about that,” my sister said as she opened the back door and left.

  “I do just fine when timed.” I whispered to myself and grabbed a small handful of flour to throw it on the counter. “What could be so special about the competition anyways?” I grumbled and finished rolling and cutting out ten more sugar cookies. “It’s a damn baking competition. I’m an award-winning chef.” I pushed down a little too hard on the last cookie and squashed the whole top of the Santa hat.

  “Are we teaming up for this ‘special’ baking competition?” Noel, my best friend asked when he stepped into the kitchen a few hours later.

  “I’m flying solo for this one.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry, man.”

  “What’s so special about the competition anyways?”

  “I have no clue. The producers of the show are keeping that under wraps.” I held up a cookie. “Want to help me finish this last batch.”

  “Sure.” He grabbed the cookie from my out-stretched hand and immediately started piping around the edges of the Santa hat.

  Noel was not a trained chef, he was self-taught. The man had skills though. After trying his spice cake in college, I immediately made him my partner for every competition I entered. Making a cake moist and full of flavor took years of practicing…or in Noel’s case, only about one hour with the right ingredients.

  Once he agreed to be my partner we quickly won all the competitions. Well, we won all of them up until the Peterson twins entered the baking competition scene. For the last few years we seemed to place second or third which was getting old.

  I was secretly happy my sister was now dating one of the twins. Maybe this new relationship would throw off the winning dynamic-duo and tip the scale back in my favor.

  “You seriously don’t need my help?” He moved the cookie over and plopped down on the barstool. “Isn’t that the last holiday baking competition of the season?”

  “No, there’s one more two weeks later.” I cut out another Santa hat and placed it on the cookie sheet. “They accept home bakers. You should sign up.”

  “You want me enter a competition on my own?” He actually scowled which was hilarious. The guy had no idea how talented he truly was.

  “Noel, are we doing this again?” I carefully placed another cut-out Santa hat on the cookie sheet. “Will you fucking shut up and just enter the damn competition yourself. You don’t need my help to win.” Then I pointed to the half-frosted cookie. “I think that speaks for itself.” The edges were perfect. The guy had a damn steady hand.

  I shook my head and threw the last batch of cookies into the oven.

  It would be weird competing by myself after all these years but I was ready for the challenge.

  Two

  Millie

  “What the hell is this thing?” Andy held up a bright red cookie. “Is that peppermint I taste?” He closed his eyes and took another bite.

  “Let me try one.” My sister, Sarah grabbed the last cookie off the plate. “Did you all forget to share?”

  “Don’t worry, there’s more.” I pulled a cookie sheet out of the oven and sat it on the counter. “I guess you both approve of that recipe?”

  “Approve?” Andy took another bite. “I give them the Andy Cooper seal of approval.” There was one small bite still resting in between his index finger and thumb. He was eyeing the piece like it potentially had the ability to talk back.

  “If you approve then why are you still holding that tiny piece?” I walked around the counter and sat down beside him.

  “I’m sending this tiny morsel a subliminal message to last longer next time.” He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

  “Think it’ll work?” I rested my elbow on the counter.

  “No, not even a little bit.” He tapped his index finger on the hard granite surface. “Why are you here?”

  “Um, I work here.” I scowled and walked back into the kitchen.

  “You should be at a restaurant baking to your hearts content.” He hopped up and started to head downstairs.

  “If I wasn’t here, who would make your meals on a daily basis?” I rolled my eyes and ran to go grab the pan of cookies out of the oven.

  “Good point. Then you’re not allowed to go anywhere.” He yelled from the bottom of the steps.

  Five years ago, I become a firefighter. Here’s the thing, I’ve been baking since I was strong enough to stir batter in a bowl, but I never thought about going to school to become a chef. I have the skill set to create recipes from scratch, but I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter.

  With the crazy long hours at the firehouse, it was easy to get lost in the kitchen. I can remember one day when we got a call and I almost forget about a batch of cookies in the oven. Truth be told, that may have happened more than once.

  Baking is a passion of mine, but I knew I needed more in my life. Choosing to become a f
irefighter meant I could enjoy both my passions together.

  “Mildred Andrews,” Sarah said and sat her phone down in front of me. “Hey.” She was laughing as she shoved at my arm. When I didn’t respond, she groaned and continued to laugh. “Fine. Millie, look.” She flashed the phone back and forth in front of my face.

  My sister is one year older than me, and follows all the unspoken big sister rules by annoying the hell out of me. My full name is Mildred but the only person on the planet who can call me by my full name is my mother. Of course, Sarah still thinks she can call me Mildred because she’s the big sister.

  She would be wrong.

  I lifted my head and looked right at her. I made sure she could see me roll my eyes as I continued to stay silent.

  “I know you saw this.” She pointed at an article currently in bold print on her phone screen. “You read this website on a daily basis.”

  “Maybe.” It was an article about a baking competition looking for talented bakers.

  “Did you enter yet?” She scrolled to the bottom of the page. “Last day to enter is”–she slapped my arm–“Today. Oh my shit, you need to enter right this minute.”

  “What is she doing?” Andy sat down beside me on the couch and grabbed the phone.

  “No.” I reached forward and covered the screen. “I’m not doing anything.”

  Andy pulled the phone out of my reach and hopped off the couch. “Wait, what does that say?” I tried to lunge forward and grab the phone from his hands but he lifted his arms above his head. “A baking contest.” He stopped moving around and looked at me. “Seriously, you didn’t enter on the first day?”

  I let out a heavy sigh and dropped my hands to my side. “I just read the article two days ago.”

  “And you didn’t enter then?” Sarah wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Mill, you would be amazing.”

  “You are all partial. That competition would have way better bakers than me.” I finally had a chance to lean forward and point at the bottom of the article. “They accept chefs and home bakers. The competition would be intense.”

  “My money’s on you.” Andy handed the phone back to Sarah. “The recipes you make are picture perfect.”

  “Aw, Andy, that’s so sweet.” I burst out laughing. “It’s not like you to get all mushy and sweet.

  “Yeah, and it won’t happen again.” He threw his hands up and left the room.

  I had worked at the firehouse for so long, every one there was basically like family. Andy was the same age as Sarah, so they both played the older brother and sister role perfectly on a daily basis.

  “You should think about it, Sis.” Sarah yelled and ran out of the room.

  There was nothing to think about. The competition accepted chefs. I was a firefighter who liked to bake.

  My sister’s phone was sitting on the edge of the couch. I stared at the headline for several more seconds, Enter This Year’s Holiday Baking Competition and Prepare to Wow The Judges with Some Unique Flavor Combinations.

  I read unique flavor combinations over a few more times.

  My recipes were damn unique.

  I scrolled down and held my finger over the box where I would enter my name.

  It would be a cool opportunity…if I got accepted.

  Three

  Kris

  “And just like that you’re off.” Morgan grabbed one of my bags from the backseat. “Are you feeling nervous yet?”

  I stepped up onto the sidewalk and threw the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not nervous. More like curious.”

  After four long weeks of wondering what special meant for the damn baking competition, I was about to find out. My sister and Noel offered to join me on the trip but I told them I was on my own for this round.

  I received a letter five days ago sharing most of the specifics for the competition. I still had no clue what made the competition so special though. A part of me feared the special part meant I would be working with someone of their choosing. Then I wondered if special meant creating a specific recipe with crazy requirements laid out by the judges. I had almost made myself insane thinking about all the possibilities.

  “You need to text me the moment you find out what special means.” She slapped my arm and slid back down into the driver seat. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

  “I will text you.” I sighed and grabbed the edge of the car door to close it. “And yes, I’m sure I don’t need any help.” Then I closed the door and turned to head inside.

  “Good luck.” She yelled out the window as she drove off.

  My parents were both chefs, so when Morgan and I announced our career choices, it was not a surprise to anyone we had chosen the same path. The big difference between us, I chose to go to a culinary school outside of the United States and Morgan opted to stay stateside. Our passions were very different and yet, they were the same. We were both pastry chefs and we were both skilled at creating patisseries.

  The thing that set me apart from my sister was I also had a background in art and I loved to draw. Morgan couldn’t draw and hated the challenges that included any kind of special decorating. I, on the other hand, loved to decorate and knew how to paint a perfect picture with any cookie or cake design.

  After culinary school I was home one day messing around and started tracing the edge of a cookie with some royal icing. Now six months later, and I was filling orders for everyone and his brother for specially decorated cookies. I loved that I could mix both my passions in my career.

  I watched as my sister disappeared around the corner, then I quickly pulled the handle up on my luggage. I had my head down as I turned to go inside the airport. There was an argument to be made I was a klutz. I may have a steady hand when decorating cookies, but I managed to trip more times than I could count on a daily basis.

  As I spun around I ran right into a woman. “Shit.” I covered my mouth when I realized she was talking on the phone. “Sorry.” I touched my hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled and continued into the building.

  My feet stopped working for moment. I couldn’t take my eyes off the woman. She was carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. The damn thing looked heavy but she continued walking with a purpose inside like it was no big deal. As the door to the airport started to close my eyes locked onto her ass. I closed my eyes. What was wrong with me? I didn’t have time for this shit. I had a baking competition to think about.

  I shook my head and made my way to the ticket counter. There were only three people in line. One of the three was the very woman who seemed to be distracting me.

  She was not on her phone when I stepped up behind her. “I’m not following you. I swear.”

  “What?” She spun around. You could tell by the look on her face she was confused until she glanced up at me. “Oh, are you sure about that?” Then she laughed and I knew I was fucked. The sound was like music to my ears.

  “I plead the fifth.” I winked.

  The attendant yelled next and the woman pushed her bag higher up on her shoulder and stepped over to the counter. I watched as she easily threw the duffel bag onto the scale. She was animatedly talking with the attendant and laughing about something.

  I don’t know why this random woman had me so distracted. I had never seen her before today.

  Another attendant yelled next but I wasn’t paying attention, so the person behind me tapped me on my shoulder to pull me back to reality. “Oh, sorry.” I gathered up my stuff and quickly made my way over to check-in.

  Before I handed my driver’s license to the attendant I took one last look at the mystery woman. She didn’t have her overly stuffed duffel bag as she turned to leave. I had the thought in my mind, what if she turns my way. Then she surprised the hell out of me and did glance my way before quickly turning to leave.

  A part of me wished I could find out who the mystery woman was. The other part of me needed to focus.

  Four
/>
  Millie

  “I.D and ticket,” the woman at security check-in said and held her hand out. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.

  “It’s a slow today.” I said just making conversation and glanced around. There were only a few people in line at the moment.

  “And now you’ve jinxed us.” The woman yanked my driver’s license out of my hand. “Thanks a lot.” She marked my ticket with a fluorescent yellow marker.

  “Good job,” a man said from behind me. His voice was all too familiar. “You better be careful,” he whispered beside my ear. “I think she is silently putting a hex on you.”

  I turned my head to see if it was really him. Oh sweet baby Jesus, it was. Today was my lucky day. “Shit,” I laughed and stepped forward to grab a container for my personal items. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  He went silent as he handed his I.D. and ticket to the same woman. She marked on his ticket and he quickly stepped up beside me. “Hell yeah.” He threw his phone and bag into a bin. “She has that look. I definitely wouldn’t put it past her.”

  When I left for the airport this morning, Andy and Sarah were texting me and then my ex-boyfriend sent me a random message. The message from my ex threw my whole morning off. I was feeling edgy and tired when I hopped out of the car. Then I ran into Mr. Sexy Pants. The name felt appropriate and oddly enough, he was wearing the perfect pair of jeans.