The_Cupcake_Cowboy

by Lissa

  They weren’t the only truck serving the late night crowds. He liked the atmosphere. Once one group of people showed up, another would arrive shortly after, and then another, until the whole space in front of the handful of mobile eateries was packed. It was lively and a little competitive from time to time, but all in good fun. It was something Jackson really loved about his job.

  At the same time, there was the other part of him, the one he’d shared with Cass earlier in the day.

  The milking they’d done out at the ranch hadn’t been for any purpose other than to show her something he didn’t think she knew, show her the land he grew up on, and a way for him to spend more time with her. He wanted all the time he could get.

  He’d had to make a run out to the dairy anyway and taking her with him had just made the chore that much more pleasant. Although, now that she wouldn’t even talk to him was something of a bitch. She’d come around, he knew that. He just didn’t know how long it would take her to do it. Would she let him push her? Would she let him explain why he’d made that particular thing a part their deal? Would she care? He wasn’t sure about any of it. She was a strong woman and had her own sense of pride, even though she’d swallowed it by coming to him and confronting him, not once, but twice. He let her push him because seeing her again, up close and personal, hearing her voice say his name, seeing her pretty eyes full of emotion for him, only served to make him realize that he’d been the jackass and admit how much he wanted her.

  He’d had her and he wasn’t willing to lose her again. Not because of his own shit and not because of hers either. There had to be a way to get through to her.

  For the moment though, frostings and cupcakes needed the bulk of his attention. He tugged his boots and socks off, ran upstairs for a clean t-shirt, and washed his hands. Back downstairs, he set about gathering ingredients.

  “I can’t decide if it smells like a bar or a bakery in here.”

  Jackson looked up and grinned at his sister. “Both.” The aroma of coconut rum and vodka permeated the small space between the kitchen and workspace.

  “You look like you lost a battle with some food dye too.”

  “I did. Several different battles.” Purple coated his hands where the tube exploded in his hand. Blue was streaked along the back of one hand and he was pretty sure there was at least one streak of yellow on his face. He hadn’t bothered to look.

  Pink and green frosting dotted his black shirt and jeans, as well as some flour and a couple of milk stains.

  He glanced over the pass-thru into the kitchen when Sam looked in and shook her head with a groan. He’d made a bit of a mess.

  “How much have you made? You could feed a small army with all this.”

  “Made quite a bit. Reckon I might have gone overboard. How was your day?” he asked when she plopped down on the couch.

  “Not too bad. I didn’t see whatshisface so that was a bright spot.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” she grouched defiantly.

  “Hmm. It’s just you don’t sound like it was a bright spot. You sound as though you missed him coming in to harass you.”

  “I do not sound like that. You’ve been inhaling too many alcohol fumes.”

  “I won’t argue with that, but defensiveness? That's not at all a tell-tale sign, sis.” The bird she flipped him made him laugh. His mood was lighter from when he first arrived home, but thinking about Cass had proved to be a constant thing. The work he was doing hadn’t prevented him from thinking about her, wanting her, lusting for her and that delectable body of hers, it had just kept his hands and the other part of his brain occupied. Otherwise, he’d have called her or simply gotten in his truck and gone back to her place.

  “How was your morning at the dairy?”

  “Dad said you should call him.”

  Sam sat up and crawled around on her knees to face him over the back of the couch. “You saw him? Was Cass with you?”

  “Yeah. She went toe to toe with him. I’ve never seen anyone other than mama do that.”

  “She sounds like a good woman, Jacks.”

  “She said I should try to change his mind. That I should make him something and take it out there, try to talk to him some more.”

  “She’s not wrong about that. You should.”

  “Why? Why should I? You’ve heard what he says.”

  “Yes and you know he comes from a completely different generation. Men work the fields and women work the house. I know, Jacks, but…”

  “He said mama wouldn’t have supported my decision either.”

  “He’s graspin’ at straws and you know it. Mama would’ve been proud of you. Heck, she’d have been in the truck right by your side, taking orders.”

  Jackson smiled at his sister’s words. There were times, like those when he had to deal with the stubbornness of his father that he missed his mom so much it physically hurt. She’d known how to talk to Jock, known how to get through to him when he wasn’t seeing every side of something. She was the glue that had held everyone together and when she passed away… “I know she would have.”

  “Cass really stood up to him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Only Mama was able to do that and make him back down. Cass seems like good people, Jacks,” Sam said again.

  “She is” He sighed. “I know she is. And… She’s pissed at me.”

  “Already? Damn. You work fast. Just last night y’all were bangin’ the headboard against the wall.”

  “Jesus, Sam…”

  She smiled, innocent. “Well, you were. Hard to miss the sound of wood hitting drywall over and over and over.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Why’s she mad?”

  “I agreed to go see Dad but only if she gave baking commercially another try.”

  “I’m confused.” And her wrinkled brow proved it. Jackson relayed to her what had happened when Cass started her own bakery a while back. It hurt him to think that someone with such love for baking had given up so completely. He knew she could do it. She might need a little help or a little incentive, but he had faith in her. She had as much grit as he did, as Sam did, and there was no reason she shouldn’t try again.

  At least, no good reason.

  “Oh wow. Poor thing. She must’ve been so sad.”

  “I just don’t know how to help her,” he added.

  “I might have an idea. It’s a little on sneaky side, but maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.”

  “Which birds would those be?”

  “Well, one would be to get the two of you around each other. The other is more selfish, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m all ears and all in. How is it selfish?”

  “Maybe it’ll somehow help dissuade the people trying to buy my shop if they see I’m helping provide educational opportunities or…something. I don’t know. Flying blind here, but I can at least try. And given the challenge you presented Cass with, maybe it’ll help there, too. You,” she wagged her finger at him. “You have to go through with your part of the bargain though, Jacks. I’ll work on Cass, but you have to go through with your end of that deal.”

  Jackson hated being manipulated. “Fine.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey. You got a minute?”

  Cass looked up from the sink where she was painstakingly cleaning piping tips. “Samantha,” she greeted the other woman with a smile. “Hi.”

  “That doesn’t look like a bit of fun,” Sam said, pointing to tiny round brush in Cass’ hand and the star tip she held. “I see Jackson doing it at home and it doesn’t look fun for him either. Though it is kind of comical. Him, with those big hands and that little brush.”

  Cass smiled. “I remember. He wanted to throw out a whole box of tips one time when he was told he had to clean them. He didn’t understand why we didn’t just use new ones each time.”

  “There’s a lot of stuff he doesn’t ever really seem to understand until he does it.” Sam shrugged. “B
ut I think it’s more a thing with the men in my family more so than just with Jacks.”

  “I’m sure you know we had another falling out last week.” Had it only been a week? Cass could have sworn it was longer and maybe it was. After he’d dropped her off, she’d taken a long, hot shower and cried. More for her lost business than over him, at least that's what she told herself. She baked a cake, ate half of it before she even frosted it, then took a long, hot bath. She wasn’t sure at that point what she was trying to soak away. The memory of Jackson’s hands on her skin, the aches from the sex, or a combination of all it.

  Sam nodded. “Yeah and I guess I guess you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here?”

  “It crossed my mind, but if you’re here about Jackson, I —”

  “No.” Sam lifted a hand to halt Cass’ words. “At least not directly or on behalf of him. He told me what happened to your business a few years ago. I’m sorry.”

  Cass didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell Samantha that it was none of her business, that Jackson had no right, but it was all a matter of public record so he really wasn’t divulging anything more than perhaps her humiliation. “Thank you. It happens to the majority of food businesses. You and Jackson have been some of the lucky few who are able to make it work.”

  “Well, I was thinking and I’ll admit that what I’m about to suggest is a little selfish on my part, but…”

  “Go on,” Cass encouraged. She’d rather Samantha go and not continue with what she was going to say, but she wasn’t that rude. It was clear the other woman was excited about her idea so Cass would listen.

  “I’m sure the school here has business classes and gives facts and figures about running a bakery, but what about real experience? I know there’s a school run restaurant and all, but I mean real, small business experience?”

  “Do you mean something like internships?”

  Samantha’s eyes lit up. “Yes, exactly.”

  “We do internships with some businesses, but small ones like yours or even Jackson’s, I haven’t heard of us partnering with any yet.”

  “Would you consider it? You teach pastry arts, right? That’s all? It might be perfect for your students in particular.”

  Cass had to admit that yes, indeed it would be a good thing for her students. It was just the kind of thing she’d wanted for Jackson, however he certainly hadn’t needed it. He had a sister who had been successful almost from the moment she’d opened her doors of her sticky bun shop. Cass hadn’t realized at the time Jackson had been her student, that Samantha was his sister. He’d already had some inside information and tips on how to make his own ideas a success.

  “How do you propose we do this?”

  “Well, I was thinking you could bring some of your students to The Sticky Cowgirl and we could put some of them to work. Like a field trip.”

  “Right off the bat?”

  “Yes. Just throw them right in. My customers are pretty relaxed and go with the flow. I think they’ll take it well, even if they have to wait a little longer or eat a less than perfect looking sticky bun.”

  Cass thought about it for a moment. It would teach invaluable lessons and give some incredible insight into how a small business kitchen runs on a daily basis. Some of her students already knew business, others knew baking, but maybe not how to put the two together. But as she pondered the idea, which she was going to take Sam up on, Cass had something she wanted to know for herself. “May I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “You encouraged Jackson to bake?”

  “To at least try, yes. If he wanted somethin’ other than to run and work the ranch, he was going to have to buck the family system and go get it. I’ll admit, cupcakes was an odd choice but it works for him.”

  Cass nodded in agreement. She’d had that very same thought herself. Jackson and cupcakes, however unlikely a pairing, worked.

  “He’ll come around, Cass. I promise. He might be slow about it, but he’ll come around. Y’all work, too. You’re more uptight than him and he doesn’t do well with that. He’s fast and loose and charges at the walls head first, but he’ll figure it out.”

  “Are you sure you’re the younger of the two of you?”

  “Yep. Y’all should talk. Take a couple hours today and go talk.”

  “Maybe. For now, we have sticky buns to make and fear of the food business to spike in some students. Are you making this offer for just you, or is Jackson in on it?”

  “Initially, just my place. The cupcake truck would be a great thing, but I think observation would be the key there. He’s always so busy, like I am, but his space is even smaller than mine. He wouldn’t be able to fit anyone else in, even if all they’re doing is standing around.”

  “True. It’s a tight space with the people who work for him, but… Both are very good ideas. Would he be all right with it, though? In the future?”

  “Yeah, I think so. He knows he should have listened to you before and —”

  Cass laughed but there was little humor in it. “No, clearly he didn’t need to listen to me. I’d have given you the same advice and you wouldn’t have needed it either.”

  “Trust me. He should have listened. He goes off half cocked all the time. He’s done as well as he has out of sheer muleheadedness and because he’s found some incredible artists to help him.”

  “He also had you. Some of your customers patronize his truck, he said. Probably more than just some.”

  “I’m sure, but there’s a lot of fascination with cupcakes, especially those combined with alcohol. Give them to club goers and college kids and well, look out.”

  There was fun and humor when Cass laughed this time. Samantha was right. The cupcake craze wasn’t as hot as it had been several years before, but Jackson had grabbed a corner of the market that hadn’t yet taken off for others. Maybe there was something about the whole cowboy baking cupcakes thing. Especially when he was as hot a cowboy as Jackson was… But then there were the boozed up confections he offered which, as Sam said, were very likely what helped draw attention to him in the first place. Seeing how gorgeous and sexy he was didn’t happen until someone got up to the window to order something.

  “I’m surprised he doesn’t have a girl for every night of the week when he’s on the truck.” Sam’s eyes widened and Cass slapped a hand over her own mouth. She couldn’t believe she said that out loud. “I’m so sorry. I sound like a jealous… Well, you know. I didn’t mean to imply that he’s…” Cass shook her head and looked away.

  “Hey. Don’t be sorry. That’s kind of sweet that you’re jealous but I trust me, you don’t have a reason to be. Jackson may be an ass, but he’s a loyal ass. He’s had a thing for you since he met you. You don’t have anything to worry about on that level.”

  “Right now there’s really no level at all.”

  Sam winked. “You’d be surprised. So… what do you say about the intern thing? You interested? Think any of your students would be?”

  Cass was grateful for the subject being steered around to the original topic. She hadn’t meant to go off on the tangent about Jackson. “Yes, I am very interested. It would be a good thing.”

  “Awesome.” Samantha slid a card toward Cass. It was a circle, the image in the shape of a sticky bun and all her pertinent information was on the back. It was a cute and clever card. Cass was so impressed by Samantha. Beautiful, successful, and from what Cass had read in the paper about the attempt to buy the location of The Sticky Cowgirl, just as stubborn as her older brother.

  Cass tapped her fingers against the card. “I’ll talk with administration and talk with my students to gauge interest. We’ll set something up whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “Just make sure to prep them for a butt crack of dawn field trip. I start baking the buns off around five in the morning since I open at six.”

  “Butt crack of dawn?” Cass loved the phrase and couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

 
; “Yeah. Mama used to say that all the time when she had to get up earlier than she was used to. Living on a ranch, one gets up pretty damn early, but there were some times when we had to get up even earlier, like when we were rounding up and bringing in cattle.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “Definitely taught Jackson and I to be morning people. And it was always the middle of the night when the horses or cattle would give birth, so we learned to be night people, too.”

  “You must not need a lot of sleep.”

  “Most of the time, no. Some nights, oh yes.” The last was said with a wink and a saucy smile that had Cass half laughing and half blushing. “But then, you know all about that kind of thing now,” Sam added with lighthearted intent.

  “I uh…” Cass started to deny it but she couldn’t bring herself to actually do so. She had gotten a taste of up all most of the night, very little sleep, and up and out the door before the sun. “Yes I suppose I do.”

  “He misses you.” Sam’s voice was full of tenderness and sympathy.

  “I miss him. Just like the first time, but this is different. He doesn’t understand.”

  “Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. Who knows, but he’s moping and he’s working day and night, surly as all get out”

  “Really?” Cass wanted to pretend it didn’t matter, but it did. Inside, she was giddy. It sounded as though he was as miserable as she was. She knew Jackson was mad at her, or at the very least he was frustrated with her. In some ways, she didn’t blame him. She was rather abrupt with him and unwilling to listen. “He shouldn’t have pushed,” she uttered softly.

  “You should take that as a sign about how much you mean to him.”

  “I guess so.” Cass held up the business card. “I’ll get back to you soon.”

  “Great. I’m excited about this. I’ve never been a teacher and I’m sure you’re better at it than I ever could be, but this will be fun. I want to show them what I know, what I’ve learned. I want them to see that with hard work, they might be able to succeed at their dreams too.”