Accidentally On Purpose: An Accidental Marriage Boxset

by Piper Sullivan

“I’m a better time,” I said automatically.

  “You never quit, do you? I mean, you can barely stand me, but the innuendos just slip from your lips like air.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she waved me off. “What brings you by, O’Malley?”

  “Kerry loved your desserts. No, she didn’t love them. She had a reaction that was half orgasmic and half psychotic over them, and she wants you to do two hundred cupcakes for her engagement party.”

  Blue eyes lit with pleasure as a smile parted her full lips. “They got engaged? How sweet,” she said as a frown marred her face. “Why are they having an engagement party in Belle Musique?”

  “They’re not. The party is in Vegas.”

  “Vegas? There’s no way in hell I can transport two hundred cupcakes to Las Vegas.” Her delicate shoulders fell in disappointment. “Tell her thanks for the opportunity, but I don’t have the resources to accommodate that. Dammit.”

  Why did I let that little pout and the flash of disappointment that dimmed her vibrant blue eyes get to me? Because I’m a sucker, that’s why. “You don’t need to worry about that. Crosby has a plane,” I told her before mentioning how much Kerry was willing to pay for the privilege of eating her baked goodies.

  “Is she crazy? Tell her there are some amazing bak-,”

  I cut her off with a shake of my head. “I already tried that and-,”

  “Gee thanks for your support,” she glared at me, and yeah, it was fucking adorable.

  “My support doesn’t matter. Kerry wants you, and Crosby is dedicated to making it happen. You’re getting an obscene amount of money and transportation is taken care of, any more objections?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “If you give me Kerry’s number, I’ll give her a call.”

  “She’s doing re-shoots in Toronto for the next ten days. Expect an email soon with her ideas for the cupcakes.” No matter how many times I insisted, Kerry refused to take Trish’s contact info from her website, forcing me to take care of it all.

  “Okay,” she said, shifting her position and re-crossing her legs towards me. “Thanks for letting me know.” That little smile, grateful and tired, made her look vulnerable. Small.

  “There’s more. She wants a four layer cake for the wedding, four weeks from now.”

  Instead of the panic I expected, her face blossomed into a stunning smile. “A wedding cake,” she said reverently. “That should be fun, but holy cow, four weeks isn’t a lot of time!” She froze and popped up off the sofa. “Four weeks! That’s not enough time, not at all.” She stopped in front of me and laid those ocean blue eyes on me, hands grabbing at my t-shirt. “Call her now, Mason! It’s not enough time.”

  I laid my hands on her shoulders to settle her. “Trish, relax. You got this.”

  She smiled. “I got this.”

  “You do.”

  “Damn right I do. Holy shit, I’m making a cake for rock royalty!” She squealed, and shocked the crap out of me by wrapping her arms around me and squeezing tightly. “Thanks for being the bearer of amazing news, Mason.”

  “Any excuse to get your hands on me, eh Trish?” I should have let the moment be as it was, but for some reason I couldn’t.

  She froze and pulled back. “Well, thanks for arranging everything.” Trish’s eyes dimmed, and she shoulder checked me as she walked by, pulling open the front door. “See you around, Mason.”

  She could try to avoid my gaze all she wanted, but when I stood in front of her, toe to toe, our height difference forced her to look up at me and I grinned. “Sooner rather than later,” I told her with my voice pitched low. Deep.

  To her credit, Trish didn’t react, but that little fluttering pulse at the base of her neck gave her away. “Keep your big ass boots off my grass on your way out,” she said.

  “What grass?” Her lawn was in desperate need of care. Water, nutrients, and maybe facelift and I could tell by the stain on her cheeks that she knew it too.

  Her response was to slam the door in my face.

  I laughed, adjusted my pants and whistled as I made my way back to the safety of my own house.

  Trish

  “I’ll have the chicken Caesar wrap with onion rings.” The last thing I needed was to eat so many carbs along with deep fried anything. But after Mason dropped the bomb about Kerry Manes, I’d been working double overtime to test out new recipes without letting my day to day work suffer.

  “Damn girl, where are you gonna put all that?” Vivi stared at me like the monster with three heads, mouth wide open and head moving from side to side. “Are you pregnant? Because I ate twice that much while I was pregnant with Ty.”

  I snorted a laugh at that. “You have to get laid to get pregnant, so unless I’m the new Mary, definitely not.” I wanted to avoid this conversation before the matchmaking portion of the lunch began, so I looked around Zeke’s Joint, specifically at all the decorative touches that had been added to make the beer garden even more welcoming. Twinkle lights hung on the tall wooden fence that kept the noise pollution to a minimum, along with metal posters of vintage beers. “This place looks even better than the last time I was here.” Which, admittedly, was months ago.

  “Does that mean you’re not seeing anyone?” Maddie smiled into her tea.

  My glare would have singed her if she’d been at all concerned about my response. “I think we all know the answer to that question. If I were, the Belle Musique grapevine would have broken itself in the frenzy to be the first to share the news.” Not that I was all that famous around town, but gossip was currency here.

  Vivi and Maddie both laughed merrily because now the only time they were the topic of gossip was when the old biddies wanted to guess who was or would be pregnant soon. “You know what they say,” Vivi added, green eyes lit with mischief.

  “Use it or lose it.”

  “Lose what,” Magenta asked as she dropped down, breathless, into the seat beside me.

  “Her lady bits,” Maddie answered with a snicker. Why I considered these women friends, I was starting to wonder.

  Magenta snorted. “Please tell me you have at least a couple vibrators to take the edge off?”

  Heat flamed from my chest all the way up to my scalp. Not that I was a prude, but talking about sex toys inside the busiest restaurant in town? Not happening. “That’s personal.”

  She smirked, ignoring me as she sent a conspiratorial look towards Maddie and Vivi. “The way she and Mase were eye-fucking the other night in front of me, and vibrators are too personal?” Magenta shook her head, hair flying back and forth across her face, disgusted.

  “We were not! There was no eye f-…nothing going on. At all.” I glared at Magenta, who just shrugged, completely unconcerned by my discomfort.

  “Hey,” she pointed at Vivi. “Still thinking about the ink?”

  Vivi nodded. “I loved the drawing, but I need to think on it a while.”

  “Take your time. It’s pretty permanent, and deserves a long thought.” That’s what I liked about Magenta. Most of the time she seemed bold and brash, impulsive, but she was thoughtful. She kept a lot to herself, something I understood well.

  She perked up and looked at me, and then back to the rest of the table. “Did Trish tell you that she’s been asked to make the wedding cake for Kerry Manes and Crosby?”

  Maddie and Vivi responded just as I knew they would, with loud, squealing congratulations. “Oh my god, how did you swing that?”

  I gave them a quick replay of the superstar duo stopping into La Belle Bean. “She liked my creations, and had Mason ask me to do the wedding cake, along with cupcake towers for their engagement party.” Even though I played it down, I was very proud of landing this. Not that I had any plans of becoming the next Martha Stewart or Rachael Ray, but this was a nice a gig that I hoped would at least lead to bigger jobs locally.

  “In Vegas. She’s going to a party thrown by a rock star. In Vegas. And she’s acting like it’s no big deal.” Magenta gave me a look like she felt sorry
for me, placing a placating hand on my shoulder. “So jaded, little one.” she joked.

  “Vegas is the perfect place to break your dry spell,” Vivi said. “And give me all the details. Maybe I’ll do a sexy Vegas one night stand story with you as the heroine.”

  I groaned and dropped my face to my hands. “Why me?”

  “Why you what exactly?” That deep voice was determined to be the death of me. I froze, refusing to look up until all the heat had left my face.

  “Oh, would you look at the time.” I moved to stand, trying to slide out of the booth, but Magenta was stronger than she looked. “I should get going.”

  “But you haven’t even gotten your food yet,” Vivi added.

  “I’ll have them wrap it to go,” I told her through clenched teeth.

  “Nonsense,” Maddie insisted. “Zeke’s food is best when warm.”

  I snorted. “It’ll stay warm in the two-block walk back to my shop.” Why in the hell were they all ganging up on me? Didn’t they know Mason and I were like oil and water?

  “What’s the hurry?”

  I sent a narrow-eyed gaze at Magenta’s smiling face. “It’s called work, maybe y’all should try it sometime.” Without warning, my gaze was pulled to Mason’s smiling green eyes, and I felt my nipples tighten at the heat in his gaze. Unable to look away.

  “Nice ponytail,” he said in a mocking tone.

  My whole body went stiff and my gaze hardened, his words more effective than a bucket of ice water at dousing my arousal. “It’s a good thing nobody asked your opinion.”

  “You’re welcome anyway.” Arms crossed with that assessing gaze on his face, I fought the urge to toss my soda at his face.

  “Next time I want your opinion, I’ll ask. Until then, keep your thoughts to yourself.”

  Mason bent over and got in my face. “That’s not very nice of you, Cupcake.”

  “Don’t call me Cupcake!”

  “But you’re so sweet, and cute,” he said and tapped the tip of my nose. “Like a cupcake.” I sucked in an outraged breath when he winked at me.

  “Well, you’re so full of shit I’m surprised your eyes aren’t brown.”

  His green eyes sparkled with amusement, they were almost laughing. At me, not with me. “Aww, you’ve been paying attention to my eye color?”

  I nodded and pushed up so I was half-standing. “Only because I’ve daydreamed many times about stabbing you in the eye balls!”

  Mason blinked and stepped back, eyes still laughing, damn him. “Daydreaming about me too? Careful Trish, or I might think you have a crush.” With those parting words he winked, and sidled up to the bar.

  A low growl escaped from me and I stared at my so-called friends. “Thanks a lot, ladies.”

  Magenta held up her hands in surrender. “He’s my brother, what can I do?”

  “Give him hell, like you always do!”

  Maddie laughed, fanning her face with her hand. “That was so hot, I might have to stop and see Zeke before I head back to the shop.”

  Vivi snorted, but nodded her agreement. “Yep! I’ll try to remember it later when I retire to my writing cave.”

  “Spill,” Maddie insisted, gesturing with her hand for me to offer up details I didn’t have.

  “Nothing to spill. Mason is a jerk and he goes out of his way to be mean to me.” It was a new experience to have someone not like me. Everyone liked me. Everyone but Mason.

  “That’s because he likes you,” Magenta insisted, but I shook my head, refusing to succumb to that logic.

  “Nope. That’s a lie.” My phone beeped on the table and I groaned as I stared at my uneaten lunch. “And now I really have to get back to the shop. Enjoy my food,” I groaned and forcefully pushed Magenta with my hips.

  “Don’t be mad,” Magenta urged, her tone laced with sympathy.

  “I’m not,” I insisted but my angry tone made a liar out of me.

  Vivi sighed, and put a hand on mine. “Would it be so bad if Mason liked you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t. And I don’t like him either!” I slipped my hand from Vivi’s and walked away, ignoring the sounds of their hushed voices as I left Zeke’s Joint.

  I had cake samples to finish, and cupcakes to decorate. Nothing, especially not some sexy tattoo artist, would distract me.

  As exhausted as I was by nonstop baking, and quick conversations with Kerry between takes while she was on set in Canada, I was just as excited about my first ride in a private plane. I’d never even flown first class on the few occasions I traveled outside of Louisiana, and now I had an entire plane to myself.

  I unloaded the cupcakes along with my backup tools just in case any last minute retouches were required, smiling at the helpful attendant.

  “Crosby requested a special shelving unit, I’ll show you to it.” The young man with deep brown eyes smiled and guided me onto the plane. Once each of the boxes of cupcakes was secured, I took my time to soak up the atmosphere of the jet. The private jet.

  “This is great, thank you James.” He smiled again, and disappeared in the way that staff for the rich often did, at least from what I’d seen on television, anyway. The jet was magnificent, exactly what you’d expect of a rock star. There were no muted colors to be found, just black and red upholstery with silver embellishments as far as the eye could see. The headrest on each seat bore the intricately sewn cursive initials for his band, Hard Five.

  “Like what you see?”

  You have got to be kidding me! I turned slowly, hoping the sound was just a sleep deprived delusion. But it wasn’t. Dressed in his standard uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, gray this time, sat Mason. Looking as good as he was annoying. “What are you doing here?”

  Chestnut brows dipped into a frown. “My friend is having an engagement part, where the hell else would I be Trish?”

  The truth was I never really thought about it, just assumed Crosby was a client and nothing more.

  “Right.” Well I wouldn’t let his presence ruin this experience for me. After double checking that the cupcakes were secure again, I chose a seat as far away from Mason as I could, setting my gaze on the details of the plane as it prepared for takeoff.

  “You gonna ignore me the entire flight, Cupcake?”

  I hated that stupid nickname, but I refused to show it. I ignored him and pulled out my e-reader, getting lost in the fictional world of bad boy Deacon and his lady love Muriel.

  “What kind of cupcakes did you bring?” His voice held laughter which only made me more determined to ignore him.

  At least Deacon and Muriel generated a ton of steam, because though the story was well-written, it was unbelievable. Bad boys did what they wanted, said what they wanted and didn’t give a damn about anyone else. They didn’t care about the sweet girl next door whose heart they were bound to break with false promises and steamy nights that felt like more.

  “Did you bring any extras? Maybe I should sample them, make sure they’re fit for such a famous crowd.”

  Asshole. I looked up with a glare to find his smiling face and returned to my book without any response.

  Thankfully the jerk managed to keep quiet for a full hour before he started up again. “Why are you being so quiet?” He snorted a laugh at my continued silence. “You look tired.”

  “Screw you!” I hated that I let him get to me, but he really got under my skin in a way no one had since high school. Determined to pretend he was invisible, I returned to my book, determined to get lost in the story no matter what else Mason said. No insult or joke at my expense would deter me from my world of fiction. Deacon’s story was the perfect reminder of why I had to ignore my attraction to Mason. He was exactly the same, and no combination of love and understanding would heal whatever made him unable or unwilling to commit. Guys like that didn’t change, and even if they did, I had no desire to be the one to force the change.

  Somewhere over Texas I finished my romance, snorting at how quickly the hero turned aroun
d for Muriel, while admitting to myself that their happy ending was a sweet one.

  “Something funny?”

  “Yep. Fiction,” And that was all I was going to disclose, because there was no way in hell I’d tell him what I was reading.

  “Care to share?”

  “Not even a little bit.” He smirked and I returned to my e-reader, going for something a bit more realistic this time with a tortured billionaire with a heart of gold romance. It was engaging and so steamy, I had to cross my legs in some parts. By the time the plane landed in Vegas, I needed a cold shower, a nap and maybe a few hours poolside.

  After Kerry and I spoke about her wedding cake.

  Her four layer wedding cake. For the who’s who of the celebrity world.

  No pressure.

  Mason

  Crosby and Kerry’s engagement party, no engagement rager, was off the hook.

  It started a few hours ago with an upscale gourmet dinner at one of those restaurants where the plates were more like art than food. But in all fairness, every bite had been delicious. Crosby’s band members were all in attendance, in various states of inebriation, which meant there were groupies galore. A few too many for my taste, and judging by the scowl she wore during the first half of the evening, too many for Kerry’s too.

  But once we all poured out of the reserved room in the back of the restaurant, we headed to a nightclub that only someone with Crosby’s star power could reserve for a whole evening. Sin Is In was as hot as the name itself, with two levels of dance floors complete with cages hanging from the ceiling, plus a patio entrance that led to a heated pool with colored lights. Perfect for the underwater shenanigans already taking place, and we’d only been here for an hour.

  “Any word from Trish?” Kerry slammed into my side in her effort to sidestep a pair of gyrating groupies who were putting on a show for the Hard Five drummer, Paddy.

  “I didn’t realize you invited her.” Based on the frown she sent my way, I guess I should have.

  She smacked my arm. “Of course I did, you jerk! She said she would try to make it, I thought for sure she’d show up.” Kerry’s pretty face twisted into a frown as she scanned the party again in search of Trish.