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
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Valhalla Cupcakes
by Cassidy Cayman
More books by Cassidy Cayman
Lost Highlander
Reunited
Revenge
Sam and Evie
Reckoning
Smitten by the Spinster
Wild about the Witch
All for the Heiress
Belmary House Book One
Belmary House Book Two
Visit online at CassidyCayman.com
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Chapter 1
Audrey Allen dipped her finger into the creamy pink frosting and closed her eyes before licking it off. The strawberry flavor burst on her tongue and she sighed happily.
“This is it. You did it, Maria, this is better than sex.”
Her assistant baker and frosting genius shook her head. “I worry about you sometimes, Audrey.”
“It’s the best strawberry frosting I’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, perfectly light and fluffy. We’re going to be rich when word gets out.”
The older woman smiled indulgently. “I hope you’re right.
“I am. You know our cupcakes are amazing.”
Audrey looked at her shop, set up in the downstairs of a tidy Victorian house in the trendiest part of the cozy tourist town of Annabel, California. Every last penny she had, along with an unexpected inheritance and a big chunk of her mom’s life savings, went to converting the kitchen to professional standards, the perfect decor, and Maria’s salary.
One wall was exposed brick and she’d had the dainty fireplace built out to make it look more rugged and rough-hewn. The carved wood mantel was decorated with a variety of antique wooden and pewter candlesticks holding tall pink candles interspersed with fancy cut crystal votives. The seating area was scattered with several small plank tables, and the chairs all had an elaborate Viking ship bow dragon head carved into the backs, her very favorite and most extravagant items. The other walls were half paneled and half papered in a tiny rose print that she’d fell in love with and kept, and hung with all sorts of Norse knotwork a local artist had made out of gold string, pastel ribbons, and rope, fun little nature prints in gilt frames, a few antlers, and her baking awards. A snug nook held two forest green velvet armchairs with faux fur throw pillows, and a delicate, spindle leg side table sat in between them. It was an odd but relaxing mix of Medieval and girly frou-frou, and it made her happy every time she walked down the stairs and realized it was hers each morning.
The upstairs, where she lived, was far less impressive, but it was worth seeing her dream come true to put up with a leaky shower, creaky floorboards, and windows that were stuck tight from years of paint. None of the customers would ever see that. They’d only see the charming fantasy she’d worked so hard on for the last six months.
The little bell attached to the front door rang and she hurried to help her friend Seda, who came in weighted down under a package that was almost as big as she was. She managed to prop it against one of the tables and stood in front of it protectively.
“Hang on, first things first,” she said, slapping Audrey’s hand away from the brown wrapping paper.
She opened her bag and whipped out two Viking helmets made of pink felt and fake fur, the horns adorned with glitter. Valhalla Cupcakes was written across the front of each one in tiny rhinestones. She plopped one on Audrey’s head and handed one to Maria with a flourish.
“For your grand opening,” she said.
Audrey took hers off and admired how cute it was, touched at the gesture. She had decided they would wear t-shirts and aprons with the name of the bakery on it, and these would be the perfect finishing touch to the somewhat plain uniform. Maria looked only mildly disgruntled to be wearing it, which meant she secretly thought they were awesome.
“I love them,” Audrey said, hugging her crafty best friend, who worked as an interior designer and could make just about anything.
“And now, for the real gift,” Seda said. “I was at an auction the other day for that cranky client I told you about— the one who wants the old Venetian glass chandeliers? Anyway, it was a bust except for this brilliant find.” She stepped aside and motioned for Audrey to tear into the huge present.
With a squeal, she pulled away a corner to reveal an ornate gilt frame. She got excited, still not having anything hung over the mantel. Maria hurried around from the other side of the glass bakery display and helped her rip off the rest of the paper to reveal a giant oil painting.
Audrey was silent, her excitement slithering away like an offended cat, not certain it wasn’t a joke. It was hard to tell with Seda and her eclectic tastes. She glanced at Maria, who had her hand firmly over her mouth, either to keep from laughing or to hide her horror.
“Don’t you love it?” Seda asked, waving her hand around the frame like a game show host. “It’s at least five hundred years old. It’s perfect for your whole Viking theme you’ve got going on.”
“That’s a Viking all right,” Maria squeaked, finally giving up and fleeing to the kitchen.
The painting was an almost photo accurate portrayal of a very large, scantily dressed, extremely angry looking man with long, wavy blond hair that seemed to flow in an invisible wind, and blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through the canvas. He wore some sort of scruffy fur vest over an unbuttoned shirt that barely covered his well muscled chest, and tight breeches that also left little to the imagination. His bronze skin gleamed and he clutched a weapon in each powerful fist.
“Yes, that’s a Viking.”
All Audrey could do was repeat Maria’s sentiment, but she had nowhere to run. She looked at Seda and saw she was serious about this present, and based on how old it was, it had probably cost her a fortune. She couldn’t hurt her feelings, but there was no way in hell she could hang this painting in her shop, either.
“Yeah, for Valhalla Cupcakes. He’s a perfect mascot,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Don’t you like it?”
“He looks like he’s about to commit murder,” she said, certain anyone who saw it would lose their appetite from fear.
Goodness, what was wrong with Seda? How could anyone think this barbaric, rage-filled beast would be a good idea for a place that sold desserts? Really, how this painting made it five hundred years was beyond her, unable to imagine walking past it every day. She’d have to close her eyes and run, if she even hung it in her upstairs hallway.
“It’s true he looks like he didn’t exactly want his picture taken,” Seda agreed, running her fingers down his torso. “But he’s so hot, isn’t he? All these ripply muscles. I want to put icing all over him and just—”
“Okay, I guess so,” Audrey interrupted. The subject of the painting did have some pretty extreme abs. Whoever had painted him had certainly taken their time in getting every little detail right. If she didn’t look at his terrifying expression, she could see where Seda was coming from. She turned her head to the side and found herself licking her lips as her eyes traveled lower. “He is pretty, um, well-built.”
“He’s the perfect specimen. When I saw this painting, I finally realized you had the right idea, being obsessed with these guys your whole life. He’s just yummy. Seriously, Audrey, han
g him up over the mantel and women will be drooling over him as much as your cupcakes.”
The more she studied the portrait, the more she thought she was right. His intense blue eyes, though they seemed to get angrier the longer she gazed into them, were so masterfully painted, it felt as if she was looking at a real man. Honestly, she hadn’t been this close to a real man in ages.
It might be nice to have a masculine presence around the place, grumpy as he was. Maybe she’d name him Harrold. She imagined them standing in the bow of his longship, Titanic style, the ocean spray misting his chiseled body … Okay, she needed to stop.
“It’s really a great painting, Seda. Thanks.”
Seda looked at her watch and frowned, already heading for the door. “I’ll send Petey over tomorrow to help you hang it, it weighs a ton.” She ran her hand over the elaborately carved frame and sighed, clearly not wanting to leave her new paint crush.
“You don’t have to go yet, do you? We just perfected our strawberry frosting, and I made some mini banana cakes that need to get eaten.”
“I do have to leave, and you have to stop cramming sweets down my throat every time I come here. I already can’t fit into any of my pants thanks to all your testing.”
“You’re coming tomorrow, though, right?” Audrey asked nervously, plagued by nightmares the last few nights that no one showed up for the grand opening.
“I’m going to be the first one in line,” she assured, then dashed out the door with one last lingering look at their Viking mascot.
Audrey wedged the painting over in a corner, in case anyone else came in. She’d told the businesses around her that she’d have a slew of test cakes if anyone wanted to come in pre-opening and try them. She was hoping to get them all addicted so they would tell their customers and friends where to go for their cupcake needs.
“I’m still not sure about you, pal,” she said. Standing so close to the painting, she felt like the subject would reach out and grab her into it, and it wasn’t exactly fear that rippled through her at that thought. “Don’t worry, though. If I don’t hang you up down here, I’ll find a place for you upstairs.”
Maybe in her bedroom? She’d never sleep again, he was such a mix of fearsome and sexy. Feeling slightly silly, she reached out and touched his hair, half expecting to feel the soft strands under her fingertips. Nope. Just thick gobs of paint. Still, she ran her hand down the waves, stopping at his broad shoulders.
“You really should smile more,” she told him. “I bet you’re drop dead gorgeous if you smile.”
“Made friends with him already?” Maria asked wryly, coming back into the room brandishing a spatula as if she needed a weapon.
Audrey grimaced and jerked her hand away, embarrassed to be caught fondling the thing. She was so worried about the opening she’d been having a one sided conversation with a painting.
“I guess it’s growing on me,” she admitted. “He’d probably look all right over the mantel, don’t you think? Hey, you know how people alter thrift store art? Maybe we could paint a little pink helmet on his head, like the ones Seda made us.”
“I think if you tried that, his spirit would find you and haunt you.”
“Agh, Maria, I have to live here! Don’t say stuff like that, it gives me the creeps.” She rubbed her arms and looked at the wild man in the painting, silently promising not to paint any hats on his glorious mane of blond hair.
“He gives me the creeps,” Maria said, turning away from it. “I like my men skinny and weak.”
Audrey laughed, thinking of Maria’s stork-like engineer husband who never did anything more physically exerting than give their kids an occasional piggy back ride.
The doorbell rang again, and they both called out, “Welcome to Valhalla Cupcakes,” as three burly men, all dressed in black suits, barreled in.
Audrey didn’t recognize them as any of her neighbors, and their grim faces didn’t connote people who wanted sweets. No one wore suits in Annabel, even her banker had been tieless the last time she’d gone in to sign papers. They stood clumped together, taking up half her sitting area. Still, she moved toward the counter with a chipper smile.
“What’s your pleasure, gentleman? I’ve got chocolate cupcakes with marzipan frosting, banana minis with straw—”
“We didn’t come for any cupcakes,” the biggest one in the middle said. He stepped forward, crowding her alarmingly, and she saw Maria out of the corner of her eye, taking her phone out in case there was trouble. “We came for our money.”
Chapter 2
“What?” Audrey asked, staring hard at Maria.
Why wasn’t she calling for help already? The man turned around and nodded to one of his cronies, and the second meanest looking one plucked Maria’s phone out of her hand.
“We’re not looking to hurt anybody,” he said. “There’s no need for anyone else to be a part of this.”
“Are you robbing me?” Audrey asked. “We’re not even open yet. This is a pre-opening, all the cupcakes are free today. You can take all of them if you want.”
Could this be happening? Why would anyone rob a cupcake shop? She was more confused than scared, but fear was revving its engine and getting ready to come out.
The biggest one shook his head, looking sorely disappointed. “We don’t rob people, missy. We collect debts. We came to get what you owe us.”
She grabbed onto the glass case to keep from falling to the floor, and the man slid a chair over to her.
“By all means, have a seat.”
The other two snickered, and one of them actually cracked his knuckles, and she started getting mad. Who were these meatheads to barge into her shop and threaten her? She got her money fair and square from a reputable bank, her mother, and an inheritance from her Uncle Charlie— oh God, her uncle. She slumped into the rudely offered chair and put her face in her hands.
“This is about Charlie, isn’t it?” she asked through her fingers. She should have known the twenty thousand he left her was too good to be true.
“Bingo,” biggest said, crouching down in front of her and leering. He had a thick scar under his left eye, making it droopy and extra menacing looking.
“He was my uncle,” she groaned, burning with rage.
How could he have left her money that didn’t even belong to him? She felt a tear drop onto her hands, which were folded in her lap to keep the thugs from seeing them shake. She hadn’t even cried at finding out he’d passed, not knowing him well enough to work up much sadness. By the time they found out about it, it was too late to go to his funeral, if he’d even had one. Her mother had bought a bouquet of flowers in his honor, then angrily stomped them all into the ground, cursing him for forgetting about them even in death. A hapless gambler his whole life, always missing birthdays and holidays no matter how many plane tickets her mother sent him, his final legacy to her had seemed to make up for it all. But now these men here thought she owed them that money.
“Good old Charlie was up to his eyes in it to us, before he went and shuffled off the mortal coil.”
“But what does that have to do with me,” she asked, playing dumb.
“Well, your uncle left it all to you, didn’t he? We only want back what’s ours.”
She prayed someone would come in for free samples to scare them off, slumping further at the fact that the place had been a ghost town all day. If she couldn’t even give away free cupcakes, how could she make back all the money she now supposedly owed?
“I thought you couldn’t collect a debt after someone died,” she tried.
They laughed, seeming to think that was hilarious, and while they were diverted, Maria edged closer to the door. One of the thugs noticed, abruptly stopped laughing, and shoved her roughly behind the counter.
“I’ll take a chocolate marzipan cake, or whatever you said,” he told her, his face devoid of any emotion. “Give me a couple banana ones for my girlfriend, too.”
As Maria fearfully boxed up the cakes, Audr
ey suddenly realized this was actually happening. She had real life loan sharks in her bakery, her house, for God’s sake. They literally knew where she lived.
“I don’t have the money anymore,” she admitted.
“You managed to spend a hundred grand in less than six months?”
She waved her hand at their surroundings. “It’s all invested in the business—” she stopped, all the spit in her mouth going dry. “Wait, did you say a hundred grand? Oh, hell, no. Uncle Charlie only left me twenty. I’ll show you the papers.” She leaned over, breathing rapidly, convinced she might be having a heart attack.
“That’s too bad for you, honey, because he owed us a hundred, plus interest, which is building up quick. And you’re his last known relative. Unless, you know somebody else who might pay us off quicker?”
She shook her head, thinking of her mother who so proudly invested her entire life savings. There was no way she’d let these men anywhere near her. “It’s just me.”
“Just you, then.”
“But I told you, it’s all invested in the bakery. We open tomorrow. Look, taste a cupcake. I’m really good, I swear. I’ve won baking awards all over the state. If you just give me some time, I can pay you back.” She stopped babbling and held her breath as the leader looked disdainfully at the pretty display.
“She’s not lying, boss,” the one who’d grabbed Maria said around a mouthful. “This chocolate one is freaking delicious.”
“Chocolate gives me gas, let me try the other one,” he said, finally sidling over and holding out his hand. Maria numbly handed him a tiny, beautifully frosted banana mini cake and he shoved it into his mouth, barely taking a moment to savor it before he swallowed it in two gulps. “Not bad,” he said. “Did you put real strawberries in there?”
“Yes, loads of real strawberries. Everything I make is chock full of great ingredients,” Audrey hurried to tell him when Maria remained silent.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so spendy with our money,” he said, reaching over for another cake.
Valhalla Cupcakes Page 1
