Sugared (Misfit Brides #4)

by Jamie Farrell

  “Did you see my fortune cookie last night? I’ve never gotten one that said ‘Good things come to those who bake’ before. That’s a sign, right?”

  “Quit cupcaking me, sugar.”

  She was sure she was imagining the warmth in his deep, crinkly eyes, but her belly did a flip and high-fived her heart, as though she truly had succeeded in making him like her.

  “Anyway, it’ll probably take my lawyer some time to work up the papers,” Kimmie said. “I can email it to you when it’s done. But you don’t need to waste your whole day here if you have other things to do.”

  His grip visibly tightened on his coffee mug, and he watched her with that intense stare-through-her-to-her-cupcake-heart gaze. As though he were trying to decide if she wanted to get rid of him or if she didn’t believe he had nothing better to do than to spend another day with her. “My mom wants you to come to dinner Saturday night,” he said.

  Kimmie’s pulse amped up faster than beaters whipping cream. He said it as though he wanted her to come too.

  Or maybe she was reading too much into him tucking her into bed last night. “She does?”

  He nodded.

  “How’s she, erm, feeling?”

  “She’s great. Just a little bruise.” He set his cup down. “She’s been telling all the single women at the club that if that’s what you do to women you like, God forbid you find out which ones of them have made passes at me. It’s gotten rather boring stopping by for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He tipped his head and laughed. “Ah, Kimmie. Life is fun with you around.”

  That was a total Joshanova thing to say, but it didn’t have the Joshanova tone.

  In fact, he seemed to mean it.

  She probably needed to ask Lindsey to add a clause in the contract with Josh that he wasn’t allowed to smile at her during working hours.

  Or laugh. Definitely no laughing.

  Kimmie’s heart couldn’t handle it.

  “I have a committee meeting for the Miss Flower Girl and Miss Junior Bridesmaid pageants this afternoon, but I’ll call my, erm, lawyer about that agreement. And I’ll get started on a—”

  A knock cut her off.

  Boo started and fell off the chair next to Kimmie, but Peep didn’t freak, so it obviously wasn’t General Mom.

  Still, Josh was on his feet, headed to the door, acting as her guard dog. Again. “You’re very popular.”

  Arthur stood on the other side of the door. He and Josh gave each other a male once-over that usually resulted in Neanderthal grunts and arm wrestling.

  Kimmie might not have had much experience with men getting primitive over her, but she had lived and worked in a bridal town all her life. “Oh, hey, Arthur,” she said. “Have you had breakfast? I made pancakes. We ate them all, but I can make more. It’s easier and quicker than cupcakes. Healthier too. Unless you go crazy with the syrup. And I have bananas.”

  Josh stood aside and let Arthur in, but they continued their silent communication thing. The two men were about the same height, Arthur dark and distinguished to Josh’s dapper and dangerous. Arthur broke the stare-down to loop Kimmie in a one-armed hug that he topped with a fatherly kiss to her hair. “You doing okay?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yep. Peachy. Totally great. Happy as can be.”

  Arthur sighed. He pulled back and studied her. “I’m working on your mother.” His gaze slid to Josh. “Would help if her buttons weren’t being pushed.”

  “That was my fault,” Kimmie said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said… what I said… at Suckers Friday night.”

  “Not your fault, Kimmie,” Josh said.

  Arthur eyed Josh harder. “Glad to see you’re not the total selfish bastard Marilyn says you are.”

  “I might be.”

  Kimmie put her hands out between them. “Stop. We’re all going to be friends. Okay? Shake. Now. Nicely.”

  Josh’s lips quirked in a half grin.

  Arthur chuckled. “Should try that on your mother.” He held a hand out to Josh. “Hurt her, and—”

  “And all of Bliss will burn down my house, picket my place of employment, castrate me, feed horrible rumors to the society section of the Windy City Daily, and get me blacklisted from every online dating site in the world, including that god-awful MisterGoodEnough.com. Got it.”

  He took Arthur’s hand, and the two of them shook.

  Civilly.

  With something akin to mutual respect on each of their faces.

  That was almost scary.

  “I had a dream that was like Peter Pan, but with vampires, except the vampires were bunnies who pooped glowing marshmallows,” Kimmie blurted.

  “Last night?” Josh asked.

  “No, a week or so ago.”

  “What do you eat before you go to bed?”

  “Um, candy canes and frog hearts?”

  There went that dangerous better-than-a-Joshanova chuckle. Kimmie shivered.

  And then she noticed the odd look Arthur was giving her, and she shivered again.

  Worse.

  Because Arthur’s look was too similar to the odd look Lindsey had at the Cubs game after she saw Kimmie and Josh together. And Kimmie had been doing a respectable job of actively not thinking about Lindsey and her psychic matchmaking powers and what that look might or might not mean. Because Kimmie’s heart had a maximum speed, and she didn’t know what would happen if it overheated.

  “Are you going to marry my mom?” Kimmie blurted.

  Josh shuddered.

  Arthur’s smile turned into a thoughtful frown. “Did she tell you I was?”

  “Not soon.” Kimmie’s cheeks were getting hot again. “But I know my mom, and I think she thinks…” She trailed off and let him fill in the rest.

  In February, Lindsey had given Arthur her reluctant approval on his relationship with General Mom. Kimmie had been there. She’d heard it. Lindsey thought they were a good match.

  She kinda knew those things, in a way that gave Kimmie the somebody-poured-salt-on-my-grave shivers.

  “Not all relationships have to have wedding bells attached.” Arthur squeezed Kimmie’s arm. “I’ll be here for you no matter what, but if and when your mother and I get married, we’ll both be ready. And as I’ve told her, I’m not. And I might not ever be.”

  “Um, are you sure she heard you?”

  He quirked a brow. “This is your mother we’re talking about. I might have to tell her twice. Or eighteen times.”

  “Or take her to a shrink,” Josh muttered.

  Kimmie glared at him. “You. Dishes. Now.”

  Josh’s lips spread in a full Josh Juan smile. “Yes, Princess Sergeant.”

  “Oooh, you—”

  Arthur coughed. His dark eyes twinkled. “I see you have this under control.”

  Her life had turned into one of those messes like when the mixer got turned on too fast with no shield and cake batter splattered all over and nobody had time to clean it up, and by the time they did, it would be crusted on the walls and even harder to scrub off.

  But good things were coming. Even with Josh letting her get the occasional glimpse of his own gooey caramel core—if not his banana and coconuts—and her getting more attached than was smart, she knew good things were coming.

  They had to be.

  * * *

  Despite Kimmie’s repeated assurances that Josh didn’t need to spend his whole weekend with her, he insisted on accompanying her to the Miss Flower Girl and Miss Junior Bridesmaid pageant meetings, which were fairly intense with the pageants coming up Friday night. He also didn’t complain when Kimmie had to detour to six different places for various other Knot Fest-related errands.

  Or when twelve more people threatened everything from his nose hairs to his manhood if Kimmie shed a single tear over him.

  “This place is growing on me,” he said midafternoon while they climbed the stairs to Kimmie’s apartment.

  “Seriously?”

  “N
ice, the way everyone looks out for you.”

  Her cheeks went warm. “Everyone looks out for everyone here.”

  “Didn’t see that where I grew up.”

  Kimmie stopped midstep and turned around.

  “What?” Josh said warily.

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, and she hugged him. Hard.

  He’d lost his mother at a young age, been dependent on the kindness of strangers, and then—if that little bit he’d let slip on Wednesday was true—had a harder life before he was eleven than she’d had in her almost thirty years. Yet here he was, wearing a put-together, unstoppable face for the world, succeeding through a little luck and a lot of sheer willpower.

  Would he have needed the Joshanova smile and the Josh Juan swagger if he’d had a warm community like Bliss around him instead?

  His shoulders were tense, and he stood seemingly frozen, but then his arms slipped around her back.

  He didn’t try to touch her butt or turn the hug into one of those mind-melting kisses he’d used before their fake engagement, but instead, he dropped his head to her shoulder, and he hugged her tight.

  She wouldn’t have minded if he kissed her.

  But she wasn’t brave enough to kiss him first. Not now that she knew him as something more than the Snack Cake Romeo.

  Because if Josh was half the man underneath that she suspected he was, her heart was in serious danger.

  “I’m glad we’re friends,” she said around a weird lump in her throat.

  He didn’t answer, but instead let her go, then gestured for her to go ahead without looking at her.

  She skittered up the stairs and turned into her hallway, where her cupcake heart leapt for joy. “Lindsey! I thought you were on the road with Will.”

  Her blond friend snapped the lid on her laptop, uncrossed her cowboy boots, and stood with a warm smile. “Nope. Work has me here until the wedding.”

  She was in another sundress today, her hair down, and she looked glowy and beautiful and happy.

  “Did I tell you the other day that I love those cowboy boots?” Kimmie said.

  “Will does too.” She gave Kimmie a quick hug, then nodded to Josh.

  “You’re having a divorce lawyer write our agreement?” Josh said.

  “Better than using the business contract that comes in a cereal box,” Lindsey said. “Happy to do a prenup while I’m here.”

  Lava shot through Kimmie’s cheeks again. “She’s kidding.” Lindsey had better be kidding. Kimmie forced a smile at Josh. “She told me at Nat’s wedding that Jake and I were a good couple too.”

  His eyes narrowed and took on a blue flame. “Who the hell’s Jake?”

  “One of my cousins.”

  “Oh.”

  Kimmie unlocked the door and led them inside.

  “Are you really qualified to write a business contract?” Josh asked Lindsey.

  “Not much different than a prenup,” she said. “Spells out what each of you are bringing to the table, the terms of your agreement, and what you’re each entitled to in the event your relationship goes sour. I’ve also been up to my elbows in business documents for my own reasons lately, and your situation sounds simple enough. Have your own lawyer look it over.”

  “You’re doing this for Kimmie for free.”

  “I’d do anything for Kimmie.”

  “Including bury a body?”

  “Especially bury a body.”

  “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” Kimmie said, “how about I go check on my cats and then make some cupcakes while you two work out those pesky business details?”

  Josh frowned at her. Lindsey’s expression went straight and professional. “Speaking of cupcakes, Will wants two dozen off your special menu to take on the road after the wedding.”

  “The, erm, peach kind?”

  “The peach kind,” Lindsey said.

  “I like the peach kind,” Josh said.

  Mikey had named them Sex on a Peach. And they were Kimmie’s second-biggest seller, after the Hairy Dicks, which were coconut cake balls strategically placed with Dahlia’s chocolate-covered, ice cream-filled bananas. And Josh’s frown had disappeared, and now he was grinning as if he knew it.

  All of it.

  The Joshanova was back in the building.

  “So, s’mores cupcakes today,” Kimmie said. “Coming right up. Thanks, Lindsey.”

  “Anytime.”

  And she didn’t say anything about Kimmie and Josh being a terrible match, but she didn’t say anything about them being a good match either.

  Kimmie could’ve asked. It would’ve only taken three stuttered words. Are we good? And Lindsey would’ve been honest.

  With a five-word conversation, Kimmie could’ve gotten assurance that she and Josh were not a good match. That they were doomed. That they were way too different, both in their pasts and in their futures, and that they would never work.

  That Kimmie needed to give up the crazy ideas she was getting that were wackier than any of her dreams. Or all of her dreams put together.

  But what if they were a good match?

  Kimmie stepped into her bedroom. Peep and Boo peered up at her from a rare joint nap on her green flowered bedspread.

  “He’d be a lot of work, kitties,” she whispered.

  But maybe, just maybe, he’d be worth it.

  And that hope, that promise, that dream, was scarier than even Kimmie’s mother could be. Because even if Lindsey thought they’d be a good match, there was no guarantee Josh would ever agree.

  He might’ve been stronger than Kimmie’s mother, but was he man enough to love Kimmie?

  16

  From Confirmed Bachelor to Wedding Planner: The #Joshmie Love Story —The Windy City Scoop

  Josh had been to Bliss enough that the random brides and grooms floating about the town barely registered anymore. They were usually another extension of the town itself, a detail that blended into the background.

  But when he pulled his Porsche into the parking lot of the Rose and Dove country club Sunday night for the Knot Fest meeting Kimmie kept insisting he shouldn’t go to, the bride and groom running out to their car amidst a shower of bubbles caught his attention.

  Neither of them were particularly beautiful people. He was balding, and she had a nose that was too big for her face.

  But they were both smiling. Beaming, actually, at each other, as though together they could cure cancer, wipe out hunger, and bring about world peace.

  As though they were complete.

  As though they had no fears, no cares, no concerns.

  As though there were no chance either of them would be maimed in an accident, or that they’d deliver a child with severe handicaps, or that they’d face unemployment, grief, or death.

  Life didn’t work that way.

  But here, everyone thought it did.

  “The golf course is usually closed at night, but I know the managers, and they have glow-in-the-dark balls, and I could talk them into letting you play a round,” Kimmie said. “The Knot Fest meeting is going to be totally boring. Just all the subcommittee chairs reporting that everything’s going as it’s supposed to, because my mom would—anyway. It’s not exciting at all.”

  It would be as soon as Josh walked in the room.

  And he wouldn’t have to say a word.

  “All Aisle business owners participate in Knot Fest,” Josh parroted back to her.

  She’d said it six times this weekend, presumably without realizing the implication. He was an Aisle business owner.

  She visibly gulped. “Try not to say anything to my mom, okay? Or, you know, look at her. In fact, if you could sort of be invisible for the next two hours…”

  Josh put the car in park and unbuckled his seat belt. “It’ll be fine, Kimmie.”

  She didn’t answer, but even the cupcakes on her shirt seemed to be drooping as he took her hand and pulled her into the building.

  Her t
ouch made him shiver. A not-bad shiver. Identical to the shiver he’d barely held in when she’d hugged him earlier.

  She was an odd girl. Funny. Smarter than she let on. A girl, as his body had reminded him this morning. With the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met.

  Kimmie steered him past several private chapels and the club bar, then pulled him into a closed-off third of the ballroom.

  A gasp echoed over the din of workers cleaning up from the reception in the other part of the room. Three people turned to stare. Then eight. Then another forty or so.

  Kimmie ducked her head. Her signature jagged blush unevenly colored her cheeks.

  And her neck, Josh realized.

  His Chicago’s Hottest Bachelor smile came naturally, and he flashed it at everyone who looked his way. Someone at nearly every table pointed to open seats at their tables, and whispers of “Hey, Kimmie” and “Kimmie, over here” spread about the room.

  She waved or said something to most of them as she walked past. Josh followed along as though he owned the room.

  As though he was at another high-dollar fundraiser or awards banquet on behalf of Sweet Dreams.

  Kimmie came to an abrupt halt at a table near the wall of windows, a decent distance from the table on the raised dais. “You brought CJ,” she said to Natalie.

  The massive dude in question had already stood and offered Kimmie his seat.

  “Seemed prudent,” CJ said with a pointed look at Josh.

  “Lindsey’s afraid of losing Most Favored Aunt status,” Natalie said. “She begged to take Noah, and since I couldn’t miss this…”

  “Sit,” CJ said to Josh.

  The other three people at the table—all familiar faces from last night’s party at Kimmie’s place, including Pepper—shifted around the table to let CJ have a spot next to his wife. Josh took the open seat between Kimmie and Pepper.

  Another murmur went through the room.

  Natalie, Josh noticed, grabbed Kimmie’s hand.

  Josh draped his arm around Kimmie, his fingers grazing her bicep.

  Her warm, strong girl-skin pebbled in goosebumps.

  Marilyn entered through a side door and marched to the center table. She sat, gave a perfunctory scan of the room, then banged a gavel. “By the power vested in me as chairperson of Knot Festival, I now pronounce this meeting—oh!”