Valhalla Cupcakes

by Cassidy Cayman

  “Do you think you can measure?” she wondered aloud in his direction.

  She worked at a breakneck pace, but only had three batches of cupcakes in the industrial oven and needed another pair of hands mixing batter. His shirt was splattered with pink strawberry juice and she held back a yelp at the mangled mess he’d made of the fruit. She’d meant those to be garnishes, but now she’d have to use them for frosting instead. Sighing, she handed him Maria’s abandoned apron and sighing harder when he just looked at it, she snapped it away and reached up to put it over his head for him.

  “It’s to keep you from making a worse mess of yourself,” she said irritably, reaching around his back to tie it for him.

  He picked her up under her armpits and sat her down on the counter, nudging himself between her knees.

  Little sparks of light exploded in her vision at his proximity. Oh sweet Jesus, what now? She knew she could have him back to work with a few words, but her brain was overridden by her body, waiting excitedly to see what he did next.

  He merely looked down at her, a serious expression on his face. He shook the hair out of his eyes so he could better mesmerize her, and she thought with dismay she should have had him wear a hairnet or at least a ponytail while he was in the kitchen.

  Her hands, completely against her will, rose and pushed the rest of his hair behind his shoulders, gathering it in one hand. It was so soft and pretty, yet somehow so completely manly, she felt weak under its power. Thinking she could Samson him, she dug in her apron pocket, finding a band and deftly wrapping it around his thick locks until it was all pulled neatly away from his face.

  Defeated, she leaned back on the counter, his big body still wedged between her legs. He looked even more handsome with his hair all tied back to show off his face. She just couldn’t win.

  He smiled at her and scooted her closer to him, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist or have them sticking straight out in an uncomfortable splits position.

  “I can’t kiss you,” he said. “You took licking away, which was really cruel, in my opinion. And no more stroking? That’s just unfair. So, I wonder what I’m left with.”

  She closed her eyes, both praying he’d figure something out, and considering giving him back kissing. He’d been so good at it. His mouth on hers had been better than wine, chocolate, and Xanax combined, to soothe away her troubles while simultaneously making her entire body come alive. She could tell him he could kiss her for five minutes then the rule automatically reinstated. That would be a perfect way to get what she wanted so desperately but not lose her authority.

  “You can …”

  The ding of the oven timer woke her up from her feverish fantasy and she smacked at his chest to let her down.

  “This is a science,” she explained, scrambling to the oven and taking out the pans. “I’ve perfected these recipes over the last ten years. Even a minute over and they aren’t as good.”

  He looked at her for the first time without either lust or pity in his eyes. It almost looked like respect, and that one little glance restored her drive to get the shop open on time.

  “Come with me,” she said, leading him to the counter area and showing him the register.

  There were only a few prices. Regular cupcakes, mini cupcakes, coffee or juice, and a break for people who bought by the dozen. The cash register wasn’t tricky for someone who’d actively lived in this time and was used to computers, but Erik looked at it like it was a venomous snake when she showed him how to ring up a sale.

  “You’re not going to break it,” she assured him. “Just practice ringing up imaginary sales. Pretend a whole bunch of scenarios. If you put in the amount they give you, the machine tells you how much to give back, see? You don’t even need to think.”

  He poked the buttons and told her she owed him seven dollars.

  “Oh, that’s good,” she squealed. “Okay, here’s ten.” She mimed giving him a bill. He rolled his eyes but punched it in, smiling when he saw how easy it really was. The drawer popped open and she showed him the numbers on the bills. “I need to get back in the kitchen, but you keep practicing with this. Later on I’ll show you how to do credit cards, but that’s even easier so don’t worry about it.”

  She hurried back and made the rest of the cupcakes in such a whirlwind, she didn’t remember any of it by the time they were placed carefully in the display. It was just shy of nine, when she planned to open, and she bounced excitedly, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

  “Are you all right, Audrey?” Erik asked, shutting the register and coming around the counter.

  “I’ve wanted this so long,” she said, waving her arm around the dining area. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it gets taken away.”

  “It won’t,” he said stormily. “Just make your pastries and leave the rest to me.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “If we have a good day, you can have kissing back. At least for a little while.”

  He grinned and raised his eyebrows, sending a thrill of anticipation through her. She unlocked the front door and turned on the open sign, throwing her arms around his neck in her happiness.

  “Oh, gosh, I almost forgot.” She found the little hats Seda made and put one on her head, reaching up on her tiptoes to place the other one atop his.

  “What is this?” he asked, pulling it off and staring aghast at it. He crumpled the pink felt in his hand and held it out as if it had an unpleasant odor.

  “It’s a Viking helmet,” she said, gently extricating it from his grasp and putting it back on his head.

  “No, it isn’t,” he said, about to take it off again, looking like he might destroy it this time.

  “You have to wear it,” she said with a sigh, hating that he made things so difficult.

  With wide eyes and clenched jaw, he mashed it back on his head, looking so miserable she coughed to hide her laughter.

  “It looks adorable on you.”

  “It’s not even accurate. What’s with the horns?”

  “Didn’t Viking helmets have horns?” she asked.

  “They did not. Nor were they pink. Or glittery. Seriously, Audrey, I beg of you to let me take it off.”

  “But it’s kind of a uniform. You don’t have a pink shirt like mine—”

  “Thank the gods,” he interrupted.

  “Since you don’t have a shirt, you should at least wear the hat. It makes you look like you work here. And it’s freaking cute.”

  “Audrey, I cannot be cute.”

  She giggled and poked him playfully in the side. “Too late, because you are.”

  He growled and reached for her, but she darted around one of the tables, unable to hold back her laughter. He looked so fierce, even with the tiny pink helmet on.

  “You can’t grab me, remember?” she taunted through her laughter.

  He quickly caught up with her, imprisoning her against the stairway with his hands against the wall on either side of her, not even touching her. When she tried to slip under his arms, he shot out his foot, pinning her with no hope of escape. She stopped laughing, her breath catching at his nearness and raw power, until her eyes made their way back up to his hat and she snorted again.

  “Let me take it off,” he begged. She shook her head, struggling to stop laughing, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought of something I can do to you,” he said.

  “What?” she squeaked nervously, his diabolical smile curling her toes.

  With lightning speed, he tickled her ribs until she dropped to the floor gasping for breath. He followed her down, his fingers traveling from her ribs to her armpits to her thighs, succeeding in finding the most sensitive spots.

  “No tickling,” she finally managed to shout, kicking ineffectually at him. “You’re not allowed to tickle.”

  He stopped immediately, and held out his hand to help her up, her helmet barely hanging on by its strap. His was still on perfectly and she would have laughed again except that Seda stood in the middle of
the shop, her mouth gaping open at their antics.

  Chapter 5

  “What in the hell?” Seda asked. “Who in the hell?” She shook her head back and forth, clearly not believing what she saw.

  “Oh, crap, I forgot to call you,” Audrey said, straightening her clothes. She motioned to Erik. “You remember him, right?”

  “I remember a painting of him,” she shrieked, walking to Erik and putting her hand on his arm. She quickly snatched it back and jumped away. “He’s really real.”

  He nodded patiently. “My name is Erik Agnarsson,” he said. “Audrey freed me from my prison.”

  “This is because I haven’t had coffee yet, isn’t it?” Seda asked.

  Audrey ran and poured her a cup of coffee, motioning for Erik to stop when he went to ring up the purchase, but smiling at his diligence.

  “There is so much I need to tell you,” she said, handing over the coffee.

  In a jumble of words, and with Erik filling in the bits she forgot, she managed to get out everything in only a few minutes, dragging her friend over to look at the broken frame and torn canvas as if she needed more proof than the brawny blond mountain that stood before her.

  She stared at him for a long time, holding her undrunk coffee, then shook herself. “Smile, handsome,” she said, taking out her phone and snapping a picture of him. She looked at Audrey knowingly. “I already told everyone I know about your artistry with baked goods, but the world needs to know about him as well.”

  “Seda, you can’t!” She tried to grab the phone away from her, thinking all she needed was for her to spout the madness of her cursed Viking all over social media. “People will think you’re crazy. Or I am. Either way you can’t share this with anyone.”

  “Oh, I’m not sharing his origins,” she said, snapping another picture. “I’m sharing how hot he is.” She nodded apologetically to Erik. “Sorry to objectify you and all, but I mean, you actually were an object up until yesterday.”

  He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, but Audrey could see he felt uncomfortable and packed up a few cakes for Seda, shooing her out the door with the promise to call later.

  “She’s the one who bought the painting for me,” she tried to explain. “She hasn’t had time to see that you’re actually a person yet. She’s normally not so brash.” She patted Erik’s arm, feeling bad. Hadn’t she acted much the same as Seda? Treating him like a sexy toy and ordering him around for her own gain? “You don’t have to wear the hat if you really don’t want to,” she finally said.

  He furrowed up his brow, swiveling his head down to study her. He reached up and rested his hand on the helmet, then slowly lowered it.

  “It’s part of the uniform,” he said briskly. “Since I don’t have a shirt, I’ll wear it.”

  She felt the strangest sensation as she watched him take up his post behind the counter. Something both warm and befuddling. Something she couldn’t figure out at all, just as she couldn’t figure him out. Was he a fierce warrior Viking or a sweet, helpful man? She couldn’t reconcile with herself that he might be both, it was too dangerous to her emotions.

  No emotions, Audrey, she told herself, as if she could command herself as easily as she commanded Erik.

  A few elderly ladies came in asking for mini cakes for their book club, and she watched in awe as he bowed an old-fashioned greeting. He correctly rang up the order, gave them their change, and had them giggling like schoolgirls from his charm as they made their way out, promising to return if the book club liked the cupcakes.

  For the first couple of hours, there was a steady trickle of customers, a few placing large enough orders to send Audrey back to the kitchen to start fresh batches so they wouldn’t run out for what she hoped would be a rush after the lunch hour.

  After nervously keeping an eye on Erik, she saw that he was completely capable of running the front without her help. Shockingly, no one seemed the least bit afraid of him, and when she came out to check shortly before noon, the place was packed with customers, ninety-nine percent of them women.

  A gaggle of girls in the uniform of the high school down the street clustered around a table close to the counter, snapping surreptitious pictures of him and repeatedly going up for more cupcakes whenever they ran out. There was an audible groan when one of the girls realized their lunch break was almost over, and they dragged themselves from the shop.

  A few forward college age girls in short skirts kept making raunchy jokes to try and get him to laugh, and two tables full of moms with toddlers stared greedily and unabashedly at his pecs. Audrey was astounded, and a little offended on Erik’s behalf, wanting to run in front of him with her arms thrown out, hollering that he was hers and for them to back off, bitches.

  Then she caught a glimpse of the nearly empty display and the bursting cash register and excitedly returned to the kitchen to whip up more batter.

  Between them, they managed to keep up with the flow of customers, Erik seeming to be a natural behind the counter, never getting outwardly frazzled no matter how long the line. She put it down to him being in higher pressure situations in his old life, raiding the coastlines and such. Except for a nerve wracking few minutes while she hastily frosted a batch of vanilla hazelnut, they didn’t run out, and she kept up with demand.

  At six o’clock, she turned off the sign and locked the door, elatedly sinking into one of the chairs. Erik moved behind her and squeezed her shoulders, expertly kneading away the kinks from the long day.

  “Oh my God, that feels good,” she sighed, letting her head drop forward.

  He removed her helmet and tossed it onto the table, working her hair out of its pins and sweeping it gently over her shoulder before continuing his massage.

  “I’ll do it as long as you want me to,” he said, his voice and touch sending the now achingly familiar thrill of desire down her body.

  “You are definitely allowed to do that,” she murmured. “Your hands are like national treasures.”

  He chuckled. “This was a good day?” he asked, sliding his thumbs along her spine.

  “It was better than I ever could have hoped,” she said.

  Even in her wildest imaginings, she couldn’t have dreamed up a better first day. As tired as she was, she couldn’t wait for it all to start again tomorrow. His masterful touch lulled her into a doze for a few minutes, before she was riddled with guilt and jerked awake. He’d worked every bit as hard as she did, and even though she hadn’t ordered or even asked for the massage, it seemed he would continue until she told him to stop.

  “Sit down, Erik,” she said. He dutifully sat across from her, smiling when she stretched and yawned deeply. “I’m so tired,” she admitted.

  “Then go on up,” he said. “You earned an early night.”

  She shook her head. “I still have to get us some dinner, and prep the kitchen for the morning, clean up out here, not to mention count the money.” She frowned, the accounting the least enjoyable part of it, but she had to think about buying fresh ingredients, paying the bills, and finding a way to put some aside for the thugs. The frown melted into a hopeful smile, thinking if business continued the way it had today, there might just be a chance to pay them off and be rid of them after all.

  “Don’t worry about my dinner,” he said, pulling a wad of papers from his pocket. He spread them out on the table and she saw they were scrawled with names and numbers. “All these women told me to call them if I wanted to grab a bite.” He wrinkled his nose at her thoughtfully. “Do you think they actually meant to offer me a meal, though, or was that some sort of euphemism?” he asked, running his tongue along his top lip before grinning at her.

  She swept up the pile of papers and crumpled them into a ball, alarmed at how many there were. She felt a sick stab of jealousy, followed by the hurt of knowing he was only here with her because she was a part of his curse.

  “Probably a bit of both,” she said bitterly. “But you can’t grab a bite with any of them, not until my problems a
re sorted, anyway.”

  She hated the sound of her voice, petty and resentful, and wanted to personally ban every woman who flirted with him from the shop. But then she’d have no customers. With a sigh, she pushed away the unfamiliar and unwanted feelings.

  She irrationally wished he’d say something like he’d rather eat dinner with her anyway, or even gotten dirty with some euphemisms, but he only sat there, looking exhausted. She perked up, realizing he hadn’t made a fuss when she crumpled his hook-up numbers. That was something.

  “Do you like pizza?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “I’m going to order one. I think you’ll like it. I’ll get a meat lover’s one.”

  He smiled angelically. “It’s as if you were made for me, Audrey.”

  She reached over and plucked off his helmet, and he looked surprised to still be wearing it. “I’ll order you a shirt tonight,” she said. “Thanks for today, you did great. The customers love you.”

  He tried to suppress a smile but she could tell he was pleased, then his look turned less angelic and her heart pounded.

  “You admitted this was a good day. You said something about giving kissing back, earlier?”

  “Did I? I don’t remember,” she hurriedly said, running for the cash register. She’d never get done if she let him kiss her, and even though her lips tingled to feel his against them again, she forced herself to stay rational. “I better count the money before we order the food. Can you just put all the dirty bowls in the sink and maybe rinse them?”

  She was too tired to remember to phrase it as a command, and mustered the energy to risk his good mood, because as much as she hated ruining a nice moment by bossing him around, she couldn’t face the kitchen on her own. To her surprise, he only nodded and disappeared into the back, where she soon heard the comforting clatter of dishes being washed.