Making Whoopie

by Erin Nicholas

  Ollie sighed and looked at the guys. “Told you.”

  “I’m totally giving that idea to Zoe,” Piper said with a smile. “She can have a special off-menu, word-of-mouth-only line for bachelorette parties and gag gifts and such.”

  She turned and sashayed out of the office. Piper almost always sashayed. It was part attitude and part the way she dressed. The pinup girl skirts and dresses, the heels, the bows and scarves, the glasses, the lipstick… it just all seemed to call for sashaying.

  “Dammit,” Oliver said. “My great idea, stolen right out from under me by female empowerment. Typical.”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Grant said dryly. He was certain Ollie did not, in fact, feel bad. No one was more dedicated to their company and its growth and well-being than Piper. If Piper had thought that was a good idea for them, she would have looked past any misgivings she might have had about the actual product and encouraged it. “Jocelyn made these cupcakes. If Zoe wants a line like that, she’s already got the idea and the best baker in town.”

  “Best baker in town, huh?” Ollie asked, dropping into one of the armchairs. “You’ve sampled a lot of baked goods in this town, then?”

  They all knew that was not the case. Whether they were talking about actual or figurative baked goods. Grant had no intention of dating anyone—or sampling anything from anyone—in Appleby. Of course, that had been blown to hell the minute Jocelyn fell into his arms.

  “No,” he answered. He put the rest of the pussy cupcake into his mouth. Damn, it was delicious. And he wanted Jocelyn again. Right now. As badly has he had before.

  “So you’re just assuming that Jocelyn is the best?” Ollie asked.

  “You don’t have to try all the cupcakes to know when you’ve found the best ones,” Grant said.

  He heard a snort to his left, and he glanced over to find Dax grinning.

  “What?” Grant asked.

  “You’re almost kidding around,” Dax said. “And it’s not even ten a.m. I feel like we all need to start the day with Josie’s pussy cupcakes.”

  “No.” Grant said it firmly. More firmly than needed.

  Dax lifted a brow and looked at Ollie. “What if I called her up right now and said, ‘Hey, Josie, I’d love some more of your pussies?’” Dax asked.

  Grant knew Dax was messing with him. He knew the other man was just poking at him, trying to get a reaction. He knew Dax was expecting a certain reaction, in fact. Grant knew he should not give Dax that reaction. He didn’t care. “I’d kick your ass,” he said simply.

  Dax nodded as if Grant had given him exactly the right answer. “Even if I was referring to the actual cupcakes?”

  “You won’t ever say the word pussy or pussies to Jocelyn,” Grant said. “And those cupcakes are mine.” He reached out, took the box, closed the lid, and tucked it under his arm.

  Dax shook his head as he moved toward one of the other chairs and sank into it. “Wow, that was fast. Like really fast. Maybe faster than me and Jane.”

  “What’s fast?” Grant asked.

  “You becoming smitten,” Dax told him. “But you’re totally the type to see something you want and to just take it, so it doesn’t really surprise me, I guess.”

  Grant frowned at him. “I’m not smitten.”

  “Oh, you’re totally smitten,” Ollie said, nodding.

  “Fuck off,” Grant said. But he was afraid they were right.

  Dammit. This is what he’d been trying to avoid. Jocelyn Asher was exactly the type of woman that men became smitten with. They didn’t just lust after her. She was too sweet for that. They didn’t obsess. That seemed too crazy. They just fell head over fucking heels for her.

  He did not want to be in love. Or smitten. Or obsessed, for that matter.

  Lust he could handle. He could cope with liking her for sure.

  But anything more than that would mean that he’d feel responsible—for her happiness and her safety. He didn’t want that. Women needed to be responsible for their own happiness and safety. Men fucked that up way too often. They couldn’t be trusted.

  He’d seen that personally. With his grandmother and his sister. Men couldn’t actually be trusted to take care of women in the way they needed. To care for them and love them without smothering them or making them feel helpless.

  What the hell did he know about taking care of someone? Not physically, of course. But emotionally. Men just weren’t equipped to take care of women emotionally.

  Aiden and Dax might be the exceptions. But Grant had to say, and he thought his friends would agree, that Zoe and Jane were strong women who had been taking care of themselves very well before the guys showed up and were willing and able to call the guys out on their shit if they started thinking they were somehow in charge of things.

  Aiden was an amazing supporter of Zoe’s, encouraging her to grow her business and try new things. Dax was the perfect guy for the strong but sad-around-the-edges Jane who took on the weight of the world. He made her laugh and made sure she had fun.

  So yeah, his friends were exceptions to the rule of men sucking when it came to women. There were a few of those. Grant ran into them once in a while.

  But mostly men sucked.

  It was why women were paid less, held fewer CEO positions, held fewer seats in Congress… he could go on and on.

  He wanted to help women see that they didn’t need men. The way he’d done for his sister. The way he’d done for his grandmother. He’d done it for dozens of women in the seminars he taught.

  He wasn’t about to start taking care of a woman now. He didn’t want to feel protective and possessive and like her happiness and safety was his one and only priority in life. Jocelyn didn’t need that. And he sure as hell didn’t.

  “Piper said I needed to check out the cupcakes,” Aiden said, coming into his office and rounding the desk. “Something about a new product line for Zoe?”

  Grant recalled Jocelyn confiding in him about her side business and saying that Zoe didn’t know about her baking special projects outside of Buttered Up. He couldn’t let on to Zoe’s fiancé that Jocelyn was doing side projects.

  He liked the idea of Jocelyn having a side business. It gave her more security. He knew from a few conversations with Aiden since he’d been back and gotten involved with Zoe romantically, that the bakery didn’t offer a lot in terms of benefits for its owner and single employee. That bugged Grant. More than it should.

  He would frown on any business not offering its employees as much security as possible, of course, and he would have been tempted to go to Zoe, as a female business owner, and offer his financial consulting services if she didn’t have Aiden. But the fact that Jocelyn was her one employee made him even more irritated by the idea that the two young women were just flying by the seat of their pants.

  “These cupcakes were made exclusively for me,” Grant told him. “It’s not going to turn into anything regular at the bakery.”

  As much as he liked the idea of Jocelyn having a side hustle, he did not like the idea of her making pussy cupcakes, or breasts or butts for that matter, for anyone else.

  That was as stupid as his sudden desire to start her a 401K. She wouldn’t even have to know about it. He could just contribute to it monthly. He’d have to have Cam look into the legalities of paying that out to her when she retired, but he was sure it could be done. Almost anything could be done with the right lawyer drawing things up. And Cam was one of the best.

  Grant shook his head. He could not start Jocelyn Asher a secret 401K.

  “Okay, well, good,” Aiden said, looking confused. “I guess.” He took his seat behind his desk and shuffled some papers to the side.

  The guys had gotten into the habit of convening a short meeting every morning. Or they’d revived the habit, actually. They’d worked together in the same space for the past nine years. Their company, Fluke Inc., had taken up the entire thirty-ninth floor of their building in downtown Chicago. They’d each had an office, and there
were two big conference rooms as well as various other rooms and offices for their product development team. But every morning they’d come together, just the five of them, in the smaller of the conference rooms to touch base and start the day together.

  It had almost started by accident. They’d never made it a formal meeting. But it seemed that they needed to physically see and talk to one another before going their separate ways for the day.

  They grounded each other. Even though when the five of them got together the ideas and brainstorming and crazy plans flew, they also kept each other anchored. The morning meeting was their way of just being them. Giving each other shit, catching up on things outside of work—women, parents, hobbies, and such—and just remembering where they’d started before they went out and met with their young, energetic, wildly creative development team, or made marketing calls, or fought a copyright infringement, or the many other tasks they each handled to keep the company safe and growing.

  They’d all found each other in college. The online game, Warriors of Easton, had become a huge phenomenon almost overnight, launching five young guys to millionaire status and pseudo fame—at least in certain circles—so quickly that it had taken them a long time to really come to grips with their new reality.

  They’d been busy and in demand and very wealthy, and it had all happened by accident. None of them had known that the game would take off the way it did. They’d simply been drawn together, like pieces to a puzzle, each fitting in their space just right to make the big picture come together. They’d sensed a chemistry between them, and that had turned into friendship, and that had turned into “Hey, what the hell, let’s see what the world thinks of this” and… nine years later, they were millionaires, with a huge fan following and a solid friendship that would last the rest of their lives.

  Then they’d bought Hot Cakes.

  The factory in Aiden and Cam’s hometown had gone up for sale and the town, and the three hundred or so people who worked for the company had feared that it would be bought out and changed by a much bigger company, or that it would close. Aiden had wanted to step in to save it, and as always, the other four had his back.

  So they now owned a snack cake factory in a tiny town in Iowa, and frankly, they were all realizing they weren’t nearly the master businessmen and managers they’d all thought they were.

  But they were trying. And learning. And so far, anyway, they hadn’t fucked anything up.

  “I thought Cam was coming in today,” Dax said, tossing a handful of gummy bears into his mouth one by one.

  Grant had no idea how the guy could eat candy this early in the morning. But his grip tightened on the bakery box as he realized that the cupcake he’d greedily shoved in his mouth had more sugar than those gummy bears did. And he didn’t regret a thing.

  “I am. I had to flirt with Piper,” Cam said, coming through the door. “I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

  “You talk to her every day,” Ollie said.

  “It’s not the same.” Cam grinned. “She’s awesome all the time, but so much better in person.”

  “Thank you!” Piper called from her desk outside the office.

  Grant had to admit that Piper was a force of nature even via text, but there really was something about seeing the woman in person. She could put you in your place and make you laugh about it at the same time. And she was a knockout.

  “But I definitely think I deserve a pussy cupcake for driving all this way,” Cam said, dropping onto the couch near the window and stretching his legs out.

  “You drove in last night,” Aiden said. “It’s not like you got up at the crack of dawn.”

  Cam had been the only one of the five partners to stay in Chicago. He’d come to Appleby briefly when Aiden had needed to break the news to Cam’s family—Aiden’s adoptive family—about their purchase of the company that was the McCafferys’ archrival. But Cam had hightailed it back to Chicago shortly after their town hall meeting announcing the purchase and introducing themselves to the town. The town knew Cam after all, and he’d moved on to bigger and better things. Or so he claimed.

  His four closest friends knew that his reason for keeping a healthy distance between him and his hometown was the woman who’d broken his heart over a decade ago. Whitney Lancaster. The granddaughter of the Hot Cakes founders.

  Aiden had been very happy with Cam’s choice to stay away. Cam was a troublemaker. Always had been. Not a happy, have-an-adventure-take-a-stupid-risk type like Dax and Ollie but a cause-a-bar-fight-take-people-down-in-court type.

  And he had a chip on his shoulder about Whitney. And Hot Cakes. And Appleby, Iowa to some extent.

  According to the story Aiden had told Grant, Dax, and Ollie—because Cam didn’t talk about it—Cam and Whitney had fallen in love in high school, but because their families had been feuding for two generations, they’d kept their romance a secret. As graduation approached, Cam had asked Whitney to run away with him. She’d said no. He’d told her he’d stay in Appleby rather than go off to college on the full-ride football scholarship he’d been offered. She’d broken up with him.

  She’d gone to work for the family company. He’d gone to the University of Chicago, and he’d long believed that she’d chosen her family business over him.

  “That pussy cupcake?” Ollie asked. “It’s from your sister’s bakery.”

  Cam made a horrible face. “Ew. What the hell, man?”

  Dax laughed. “Josie made it, not Zoe.”

  “Jesus, that’s an important distinction.” Cam scowled at Ollie. “You’re a dick.”

  Ollie nodded. “Sometimes.”

  “Anyway,” Dax said. “Grant’s not sharing the cupcakes. Josie’s cupcakes are all his.”

  Cam looked over at Grant. “Is that right?”

  “Not all of her cupcakes,” Grant said mildly. Not her literal ones anyway. “I want no part of the caterpillars.”

  “Guessing you’re not into the ladybugs or the rainbows or the high heels and hair bows either,” Aiden said dryly.

  Ollie laughed. “Nope. Just her pussies.”

  “Well, he’s not sharing her butt, mouth, or tits either,” Dax said.

  He absolutely fucking wasn’t. Thankfully, he didn’t say that out loud.

  Grant wondered why he didn’t have better friends. He chose to stick around these guys. He could have made just as much money in a number of other businesses.

  “What about the cock?” Ollie asked. “I specifically saw a cock.” He looked at Grant.

  “All of the above are between Jocelyn and me,” Grant said, refusing to rise to their bait and give them any kind of reaction. Well, any further reaction. “You all knock yourselves out with the high heels and hair bows.”

  Cam shrugged. “Once it’s in my mouth, I don’t really care what it looks like.”

  Dax snorted. “That attitude can lead to a lot of bad, contagious things.”

  “Your sister’s bakery,” Ollie reminded Cam.

  Cam shook his head. “Now I know we’re talking about Josie. That’s different.”

  Grant felt his grip on the bakery box tighten again.

  “Is it?” Dax asked, casting a sly glance at Grant.

  “Josie’s the best,” Cam said with a nod. He crossed his arms over his chest, his huge biceps bulging, the tattoos that decorated one arm from shoulder to wrist and the other arm from shoulder to elbow, jumping as the muscles flexed. “And she’s always been cute, but she’s definitely turned out hot.”

  Grant gritted his teeth. He needed to not react.

  Cam had known Jocelyn for years. She’d been his little sister’s best friend since they were kids. They were probably more like brother and sister than anything else.

  He glanced at Aiden. Then again, Aiden had been Cam’s best friend for just as long and Cam’s sister, Zoe, should have been like a sibling to Aiden too. She wasn’t. At all.

  “I’ll never forget that first summer Josie had boobs,” Cam said thoughtfully,
as if reminiscing about days gone by. “She was probably about fourteen. She came over to sunbathe with Zoe, and she walked through our kitchen in a bikini, and I dropped an open two-liter bottle of soda, and it sprayed all over everything.”

  Grant ground his teeth.

  Dax laughed. “How’d you explain that?”

  Cam shook his head. “Josie was sweet and innocent. She had no idea that had anything to do with how she looked in that swimsuit.”

  “So, of course, the question is,” Ollie said, glancing at Aiden, “if Josie had come to you at some point and asked you to be her first, what would you have said?”

  Aiden rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

  Zoe had done exactly that to Aiden just last Christmas. She’d been a twenty-five-year-old virgin, and she’d been ready to get her first time “over with”—her words to Aiden. She’d tried to seduce Aiden. And he’d turned her down.

  Needless to say, when he’d come back to Appleby to tell her he was in love with her, he’d had a lot of work to do to win her over.

  “Oh, I would have absolutely helped her out with that,” Cam said, completely seriously. “Once she was old enough, of course.”

  Grant breathed in and out steadily. His friends were just fucking with him. He knew that.

  “I still would help her out with that,” Cam went on. “I mean, I taught her to roller skate and how to play poker. And I gotta say, she’s really good at both now.”

  “Enough.”

  Grant’s response quieted the room, and his four best friends looked at him. But not with surprise. With aha expressions.

  Grant rolled his eyes. Cam had been back with them for ten minutes, and he’d already joined right in with the bullshit without missing a beat.

  Grant had resisted. He really had. But he wanted to punch someone in the face right now.

  “But you really do need to let her sell these cupcakes,” Ollie said. “It’s a good idea. Maybe she could do, like, a liqueur filling. Make them very adult themed.”

  “It’s not up to me to let her do anything,” Grant said. Which was true. He was feeling possessive of her—and the dirty, flirtatious cupcakes she’d made just for him—but he wasn’t about to tell her she couldn’t sell them. Hell, he should encourage it.