New Year Resolution
Christmas with Carol
Auld Lang Sigh
Rush of Love
Fields of Gold
Christmas Chaos
The Christmas Horse
The Music of Christmas
All I Want for Christmas is You
Weddings First Chance
and novel
Kilt by Love
Cupcakes and Cupids
The Valentine Day wedding for Mark and Julie Spencer was the first big job Analeigh Russell contracted for her cupcake company, Let Them Eat Cake. Excitement, and a little too much caffeine coursed through her bloodstream.
The head food critic for Seattle’s Metro magazine was the mother-of-the-groom. Everything had to be perfect. She hoped the magazine’s write-up about the wedding would help her business skyrocket.
Analeigh looked into the rearview mirror and rubbed at a smear of pink lipstick on her front tooth. She smiled, as she looked at the reflection of white plastic containers stacked in tidy rows in the back of her SUV. They would be nothing but impressed when she delivered the order early.
Headlights in the mirror caught her eye. The car’s not stopping. Her smile flipped, her eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O. She pushed harder on the brake with both feet and prayed she wouldn’t be thrown into the intersection.
For a split second, her mind raced as she desperately thought what she could do. Should she speed forward? No. There were cars flying through the busy intersection in front of her. A woman waited to her left waited at a crosswalk. Not that way. Analeigh tensed her shoulders, grasped the steering wheel, and closed her eyes. The impact of the collision filled the car with the sounds of crushing plastic, metal, and broken taillights.
Her car lurched forward and then stopped. She forced her eyes open. The car that hit her suddenly backed up, hooked a u-turn and started to speed off.
Fear replaced anger. She yanked open her door, jumped out, and yelled at the disappearing car, “Come back here, you… you moron! You hit my car!”
A few bystanders already had cell phones in their hands, she assumed to call 911.
She looked down at the crumpled and bent bumper. Panic washed over her like a wave. “No, no, no!” She wrenched at the jimmied back hatch. Finally, giving up, she threw open the side door. The impact of the crash broke the ties that held the sturdy plastic cupcake carriers in place. They were tossed haphazardly on top of each other in the back of the car.
Tears stung her eyes as she slid down to sit on the wet pavement.
“Are you all right?”
Analeigh looked up at the concerned woman hovering over her and gave a weak nod.
“I couldn’t believe what just happened. Right in front of me.”
She watched the older woman grasp the front of her coat, her chest heaved. Analeigh pulled herself to standing position, and laid a hand on the woman’s arm. “I should be asking if you’re okay? You look a little pale.”
“I was waiting at the cross walk. That man slammed right into you.” The woman shook her head. “In my eighty-four years, I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Looking back at the toppled cupcakes trays, Analeigh realized there were more important things in her life. She’d just been in a car accident. So many worse case scenarios could have played out in those few seconds. Other than stiffness in her neck and a growing headache, she was fine. Everything was great… except possibly her ruined business she’d worked so hard to grow. If she couldn’t deliver the cupcakes to the wedding… she was dead meat. The wedding coordinator would make a fifteenth century torture chamber seem like a luxury spa when she was done with her. Weddings didn’t allow ‘do-overs’.
Damn car. She swore it attracted bad luck like super glue to finger tips. She kicked the tire and recoiled as pain lanced up her leg. A police car pulled up, its red and blue lights flashing on the rain soaked pavement.
The officer took down the information about the crash, first from her, and then the witnesses.
“I called a tow-truck,” the policeman said. “The bumper’s pushed against the back tires, you won’t be able to drive it home.”
Analeigh bobbed her head in acknowledgment. She considered herself a nice person, but right now, as she listened to the officer call in the accident as a hit and run, she felt anything but. She hoped the guy that hit her was caught… tasered… landing face first in a mud puddle…and then tasered again.
She ran out of evil things she could think of doing to the rat.
“We’ll do our best to find the car that hit you. Probably didn’t have insurance, or was high on something. The lime green Pinto has front end damage, it shouldn’t be hard to spot. They’ll check the traffic cameras for a license plate. I swear, people lose their mind when it’s a full moon.”
The paramedics arrived, checked her out, and gave her the option of being taken in for a complete check-up. Analeigh declined. Her cupcakes took a much bigger hit than she had.
After the ambulance left, she opted to wait inside her car for the tow. If she broke down in hysterical tears, less people would see her. Rain began to fall harder from the sky. The droplets splattered against the windshield like tiny inkblots. How could this be happening? She didn’t give a rat about her car, so if she was going to be hit, couldn’t it have happened an hour from now so she could have delivered her cupcakes.
Knuckles rapped on the driver’s side window. Analeigh jumped a foot. She pushed the button to lower the power window.
“Hi, ma’am. I’m Danny Cohen from Above All Towing. Looks like you got in a fender bender.”
“I didn’t get into anything, someone got into it for me.”
“That’s usually the case with a bumper that looks like yours.” He flashed a sympathetic smile, and pushed his baseball cap higher on his forehead. A chunk of dark hair tumbled down his forehead. Here was a needle thin beam of bright light in the day. He was cuter than sin. She was a sucker for dimples, and this man had great ones. Her eyes flicked to his hand. No ring. The needle thin light broadened to light-saber width.
“If you want to grab your bag and get out, I need to put your car up on the flatbed.”
Analeigh opened her door. When she stood her head swam, and she reached for the side of the car.
A large, sturdy hand grasped her upper arm. “Whoa, there.” The tow guy glanced toward the police car. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I think its more nerves.”
“Is there anyone you can call? They can pick you up, or I can drop you home.”
She shook her head. “Nope. No husband or boyfriend to swoop in and save me.”
A smile quirked up one side of his mouth. “I’m sure you can handle everything just fine, but the info’s nice to know.” He opened the side door of the tow truck, reached under the seat and pulled out a blanket. “It’s clean, I promise. I washed it yesterday.” He wound it over her shoulders and tugged it closed in the front. His gaze met hers. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Analeigh watched the next ten minutes pass as Danny hooked and jostled her car to get it up on the bed of the truck. She cringed when part of the bumper fell off, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. The driver door creaked when he opened it, his tall body silhouetted in the frame. “I’d feel better if I could drop you somewhere. Who knows when you could get a cab out here, and if you don’t want to call someone…”
“You can drop me at my shop. It’s about a mile from here.”
When they arrived at Let Them Eat Cake, he pulled the tow truck up in front and cut the engine. “You own this place? I love your cupcakes. I try to come here at least every other day.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I don
’t remember seeing you.”
He laughed. “I’m not always in greasy overalls. This is my disguise so you wouldn’t know that I’m the guy with the cupcake ‘problem’”. Your lemon peel cupcakes with Key-Lime frosting. Well they are better than…” his words trailed off. His embarrassment showed, as pink tipped the outer edges of his ears.
“Those are my favorite too. They are better than…” Analeigh grinned. “I should put that as a slogan on my sign.” She sighed. “I know you’re probably on the clock, but I have a huge favor to ask. If you wait, I’ll pay you for your time. In the back of my crunched car are three-hundred cupcakes. I was on my way to a wedding delivery at the Benton Hotel for a one-o’clock reception. I need to get the carriers into my shop so I can assess the damage.”
“Sure. I’m actually done for the night-morning, whatever time it is. I lose track sometimes. There’s no charge. Don’t be silly. I’m all yours.”
Mine. The thought flashed through her mind. Nice guys like him were like uncovering a diamond ring buried on a public beach with a metal detector. They were near to impossible to find.
Danny waited for her to open the front door, and followed her inside. She flipped on the overhead lights and wove her way around the counter to the back kitchen.
“The place looks empty without all the cases filled with cupcakes.”
“I’m usually in the back slaving away. I don’t get out here much. So, is this what the front of the store looks like?” she kidded.
“That explains why I haven’t seen you on my semi-daily impulse buy.”
“I guess. I need to get out more.”
“That you do.” There were those dimples again. Dang. His eyes were a fascinating color of dark green with flecks of gold. “Before we do anything, I have a few things I’m going to insist on.” He held up a finger. “You are going to sit down on that stool, drink some water, and let your body’s nerves calm down. I’m going to change out of this grease-monkey outfit, and then,” he pointed a long finger at her, “you are going to stay right there while I carry in all the containers.”
“I can help.”
“If you move… or argue, I am going to drive off with the cupcakes. You will never see them again.”
She tried to frown. It wasn’t working. “Where is your cupcake ransom note?”
“Don’t push me, lady.” He jingled the tow-truck keys in his hand. “One more word and the cupcakes get it.”
“The cupcakes already got it from that idiot that rear-ended me. Their little cupcake guts are smeared all over.”
“Sit.” He pointed to the stool. “Water?”
She started to stand, but hearing a gruff sound from him, sat back and nodded her head towards the refrigerator.
He opened the door, pulled out a pitcher, and filled an empty glass that he handed to her. “Stay.”
“I’m not a Golden Retriever.”
“I know. I have one. She listens better. I’ll be right back.”
“Pushy… man,” Analeigh mumbled under her breath. But, she was happy Danny was there. His silly, light-hearted ribbing eased the stress flowing through her.
He came back from outside with a pile of clothes on his arm. “Bathroom?”
Analeigh rolled the cool glass of water between the palms of her hands, and lost herself in trying to formulate a plan as to what she was going to do.
She had five hours.
Danny reappeared from the bathroom awhile later. Double dang. He cleaned up well. She really did need to get out the back if she was missing customers like him.
He’d changed into a worn pair of jeans and a navy v-neck t-shirt. The overalls had hidden the muscles his t-shirt was doing a fine job accentuating. She licked her suddenly dry lips. He’d run water over his head, and his dark brown hair glistened almost black, slicked back from his strong face.
“You have me at a disadvantage. I usually scrub off all the nights grease and grime with some toxic chemicals back at the tow base. All you have in your bathroom is some fu-fu stuff that smells like vanilla beans.” He came closer, and her heart did a flip. He leaned in. “Did I miss anywhere?”
She inhaled. Not a good idea. He smelled really good. Man and vanilla. Two of her favorite things. She picked up a tissue and rubbed at a small black streak of grease under his chin.
Danny took the tissue from her hand. His fingers were warm against hers. “Thanks. Should I call you Ms. Russell?”
“Analeigh. You can leave the formality for the ransom note.”
“Analeigh.” Her name sounded sexy rolling off his tongue. “I’ll remember that. I’m going to bring in the containers, and we can go from there.”
In stacks of two he carried them in and piled them on the stainless steel counters.
“That’s the last one.” He brushed off his hands.
She rose to her feet and popped the lid off the first container. White streaks of frosting smeared the lid and dripped down the sides of the container. Analeigh bit her lip and shook her head. “This just… stinks.” She sat heavily back on the stool. “These cupcakes are for a wedding that’s in five hours. I am never going to be able to re-bake and decorate all three-hundred. My big break has turned into a big disaster.”
Danny lifted the lid and peered inside once again. He took out one of the cupcakes, inspected it, and then set it on the counter. He pulled out and opened the tray that held the second layer of cakes and shook his head frowning. “How many do you think you can bake, get cooled, and frosted in, say, three hours?”
“I don’t get what you mean. I can’t bake three-hundred cupcakes and deliver them to the wedding in time.”
“That’s not what I asked. How many can you bake?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “A hundred or so.”
He held up the first cupcake he’d placed on the counter. “The only thing that is messed up on this cupcake is the frosting on the top. If we carefully scrape it off and re-frost it, no one will know.”
She took the cake from him. Her eyes met his. He was right, the cupcake was undamaged.
“You can do it. We can get them back before anyone suspects. Let’s take the rest of them out of the carriers. I’ll put them in save pile and then the road kill pile. If two-hundred are in the save pile, then we’re in.”
She’d gotten though tough situations before. Just keep your eye on the finish-line. Grabbing a hair-tie from the shelf, she whipped her shoulder length black hair into a bun, then draped an apron over her torso and tied it behind her neck.
“Why don’t you start baking, and I’ll work on damage control,” he said.
She nodded and readied the mixer on the counter. As she dumped ingredients in the bowl, she watched Danny take the cupcakes out, one by one, and inspect them with pain-staking thoroughness. The save pile was much larger than the road-kill pile.
He’d been right.
When he finished, he scooped the ones that had no help of saving into the trash bin.
“This is sad,” he commented. “I feel like I should play taps or something. They were too young to die.” With a long spatula he carefully scraped off the damaged frosting of the ones he saved and flipped it in the bin. When he was done, there were perfect rows of undamaged cakes. “Okay, these are the ones we can work with. There are one-hundred and seventy five. Good news or bad?” he asked.
“I think I can make it work. I have a few trays that I baked for extras over on that tiered cooling rack.” She counted in her head. “That would give us three-hundred and three.”
“Whoo-hoo.” Danny pumped his fist in the air.
“This is really nice of you to stay and help. You’ve been working all night. You can take off. I’ll be fine.”
“How are you going to mix, bake, and decorate a
t the same time?”
“Well… I’m not sure. I’ll do what I can.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I didn’t see another car out there. Your car’s totaled. If you get the cupcakes ready, how are you going to get them to the wedding if you don’t have transportation?”
“Rental car?”
“And take the chance they may all be rented for the weekend?”
She hadn’t thought of that. “What are you, my voice of reason?”
“I can be. Also, my skills are a little rusty, but my mom worked in a bakery at a local grocery store. I worked with her on weekends and decorated the cakes to pick up some spare money to go snow-boarding. Let me see if I can remember what the heck I did back then.”
Analeigh lowered the first tray into the oven and set the timer. She pulled out the butter, powdered sugar, and milk. Danny stood close behind, and looked over her shoulder as she expertly mixed and scrapped the creamy mixture to the proper consistency. She scooped the frosting into a pastry bag with a coupler ring and tip, then handed him the frosting bag and an unfrosted cupcake.
He took it from her hands like the passing of a sacred scroll. Concentration etched his features, and his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth. He started, then stopped. “Do you have to watch me? Geeze, you’re making me nervous.”
“Me? Come on Bucky, show me what you got Mister Ace of Cakes.”
His hand clenched on the bag as he began to squeeze the frosting in a swirl on the top. When he was finished, he sat the cake back on the counter and she heard him let out what she assumed was a sigh of relief.
She eyed the cupcake. “Not bad. If you tip the bag a little straighter, you’ll get a cleaner line. Keep the tip about an eighth of an inch from the cake.”
“Am I hired? Keep me from a life of cupcake kidnapping and make me an honest man.” He steepled his hands.
“You’ll let me pay you?”
Valentine Collection (Valentine Anthology) Page 3
