Scrumptious: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Camos and Cupcakes Book 3)

by Melissa Schroeder

  “Are you sure? I’ll pay you rent.”

  I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to.”

  “I do. I can’t just stay there for free. What about the mortgage?”

  “My Uncle Tito had it paid off. I pay property taxes and utilities.”

  “Still.”

  “Okay, how about you pay me two hundred a month? That will cover utilities and the yard service I have.”

  His face relaxes. “Are you sure?”

  I don’t like people in my personal space, but…Fritz is a decent guy. Plus, he took in his Grannie Pam’s cat and he hates that cat. He’s dedicated to his family. That goes a long way with me.

  “Yeah. Just, no chicks. I don’t want that drama.”

  Surprise moves over his expression. “No problem.”

  I nod, then sip at my coffee. When I realize everyone is looking at me, I frown. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Allison says as Ed sets the first plate of pancakes in front of me. There’s a dollop of cream cheese frosting and a sprinkle of powdered sugar, along with a side of bacon. As a chef, I appreciate the presentation. He grabs a gravy boat filled with syrup.

  “Heated,” he says with a smile.

  “Thank you. I was going to marry my coffee, but now I’m back to thinking I should marry you.”

  He says nothing as he goes back to cooking. I lean down and draw in a deep breath. Sugary sweetness dances through the air with a hint of maple. I shimmy in my seat a little. Again, I notice the kitchen has gotten quiet. I look up and find everyone but Ed staring at me.

  “What?”

  “Do you and your pancakes need a room?” EJ asks, laughing.

  I roll my eyes. “I appreciate food, sorry.”

  I dig into my breakfast and realize I forgot to eat dinner again last night. Good lord, I’m hungry. Everyone starts talking about the upcoming event EJ has going on for April, but Fritz leans closer to me. For a moment, the scent of leather and pine invades my senses.

  I turn and become aware of how close he is. My brain shuts down. Just right then, my thoughts come to a dead stop. I don’t think that’s ever happened with Fritz before.

  “I really appreciate it,” he says, his gaze serious. He has the most ridiculous eyes. Golden flecks litter the indigo irises. His lashes are so thick and long they could rival the best lash extensions. I’m pretty sure he uses them to his advantage. That and his cute dimples.

  Wait. When did I start noticing his dimples? I mean, I have always thought of him as pretty, but this is almost like…attraction. I realize he’s still looking at me, so I clear my throat and shrug.

  “No problem. I’m doing it more for General McLovin.”

  He snorts. “That fucking cat. He’s an asshole.”

  From the moment he had to move McLovin in with him, the cat has done his best to ruin Fritz’s life. The fact that he kept the cat so he could take him in to visit Grannie Pam made him kind of a good guy.

  “When do you need to move in?” I ask.

  “I have until Tuesday.”

  I blink. “Damn, that’s fast.”

  “I started packing yesterday, thanks to Harry taking my shift.”

  I take another bite of my pancake and sigh with happiness. God, this food is amazing. Ed only had a little training and the rest of his abilities are self-taught. There is a reason Allison calls him Ginger Jesus. The pancakes are delicious, light, airy, they melt in your mouth. The cream cheese frosting has a hint of brown sugar and nutmeg.

  “You want to come look at it after breakfast?”

  “Don’t need to.”

  “You are ready to move into it sight unseen?”

  He nods. “I’m desperate.”

  “No worries.”

  “I really appreciate this, Savannah.”

  I nod and take another bite, but he’s still looking at me like he wants something from me. What the hell else does he need? I told him he could move in. This is the part of interaction with people I will never understand. I told him he could move in.

  “Okay.”

  Then I turn back to my food. I know he’s frowning at me, but I don’t care. Right now all I cared about was the nummy pancakes and the fact I might try to talk Ed into cooking me another helping once everyone got some.

  By the time I make it home, I’m ready to pass out from exhaustion. I know part of it was the hours I was working, but I probably should talk to a doctor about my issues. I hate doctors. No offense to any doctors who are reading this, but, yeah, I hate the profession. Nurses, I like. Allison is a nurse, so I sort of have no problem with them. But, hospitals and shit, that I don’t like. Doctors are part of that. I also have this thing about needles.

  So, I guess you know I won’t end up with the doctor. Don’t tell my mother—or Allison. Actually, Allison would probably care more than my mother, unless it got in the way of work.

  Damn, that sounded sad and pathetic. And, unfortunately, it is the truth. I’ve always thought of myself as a realist, and I guess considering my family, it would be useless. Since my uncle died six years ago, I have had to live in the very real world of being the person who pretty much ran the entire mess of the Martinez Restaurant group. A lot for a twenty-two-year-old to deal with. Hell, it’s bad enough at the age of twenty-eight.

  With a sigh, I kick off my shoes and walk through the house. I still wasn’t sure living here was a good idea. The memories that always seem to live with me are sometimes comforting, but they can make me so damned lonely. It would probably be worse if I wasn’t a workaholic. Most of the furnishings were from my uncle. I just brought them out of storage when I moved in a few months ago.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and immediately feel a headache starting.

  Stupid Bro #1 AKA Austin: Why aren’t you at work?

  Me: Because I have the day off. I get them every now and then.

  Stupid Bro #1 AKA Austin: Mom and Dad went to La Trinidad and you weren’t there.

  Out of my four brothers, Austin is the biggest pain in my butt. He’s the oldest and unhappy with the way things are run in our family. Also, and I am not sure if he knows I know this, but he despises having to work at the bar. Other than my culinary degree, he’s the only one with a degree that has anything to do with restaurant management. And my parents have stuck him behind the bar.

  Me: Because it’s my day off. I think I just explained that.

  Stupid Bro #1 AKA Austin: They want you here. They have someone they want you to meet.

  Me: Nope.

  Of course, that’s not enough for Austin. He does Mom and Dad’s biding because, well, he feels guilty for not liking the family business. Yeah, we are a warped group of people who never seem to really talk to each other. We tend to talk around everything and stick to the business side of our family. See, warped.

  Stupid Bro #1 AKA Austin: I don’t think that is an option.

  I sigh. Should I go in? I know I should stand up for myself, but this will go on and on until I drag my ass over to La Trinidad to meet whoever they want me to talk to. I am sure it’s just some idiot they know in the biz. I stand in the living room looking at the sofa with a yearning I usually reserve for margaritas and cheese. Not together but just…I love them. I want all the margaritas and all the cheese.

  My phone vibrates in my hand and I’m surprised that it’s Fritz.

  Pretty Boy: Thanks for letting me move in. I really appreciate it.

  I roll my eyes. Fritz is a horn dog, but he is polite and, other than being kind of a player, he is a good guy.

  Me: Don’t worry about it.

  Pretty Boy: I know you said that, but I’m very thankful for this.

  I sigh. I’m not that good at gratitude. I don’t get it much in my everyday life, so I don’t know how to be gracious.

  Me: See you tomorrow.

  I wait for his answer, but before it comes in, another message comes in from my brother.

  Stupid Bro #1 AKA Austin: Savannah!

  Ugh. I gu
ess I don’t have a choice. I will not work. In fact, I’m leaving my knives here to prove a point.

  Mad at myself but knowing it will do no good to fight them on this, I trudge upstairs to get ready to go into the restaurant.

  My phone buzzes with another text from Fritz.

  Pretty Boy: Can’t wait.

  Why that makes me smile, I have no idea, but it does. I’m still not sure if this is going to work, but I’m kind of looking forward to having someone hanging out with me. Well, and the cat. McLovin and I will be kindred spirits, I’m sure.

  Chapter Four

  Fritz

  The guys showed up at my apartment at six the next morning. Yeah, I know. It sounds like a crappy thing, but, first of all, we are all still tied to our internal military clocks. And, we do keep bakers’ hours. Ed called in a favor from one of our part-timers and both he and Harry showed up to help me, along with Harry’s parents, who showed up around ten. I’m happy that everything is boxed up by that point. I would hate them to have to deal with that too.

  “Mr. and Mrs. B, you didn’t have to come.”

  She shakes her head and holds up a bag. “I had to make sure you guys had some breakfast.”

  “And coffee,” Mr. B says, holding up a coffee carrier.

  “Fantastic,” I say. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. You’re one of mine.”

  Mrs. B has adopted all of us. Ed was a foster kid with no connections, and my family mainly lives in north Texas, except for Grannie Pam.

  She kisses me on the cheek. “It looks like you’ve got it almost all loaded.”

  I nod. I even have asshole General McLovin in his carrier.

  “Then we better get over there,” she says. “You did get approval of the time, right?”

  I chuckle and nod. Savannah was very explicit on that point. She said not before ten in the morning. Actually, what she said was that she would cut my nuts off with a serrated knife if I showed up before ten. That was the last text I got from her.

  “Well, let’s get going,” Ed says.

  It takes us about fifteen minutes to get to Savannah’s house. I didn’t realize we lived so close to each other, but then, I didn’t know exactly where she lived. As we park in front of the house, I’m taken in by the massive structure that is to be my new home. It’s a craftsman style house with a large front porch and Texas sage bushes lining it on either side of the steps. The lawn is massive and includes two enormous live oak trees. There is a long walkway leading from the sidewalk.

  “Damn, that’s nice,” Ed says.

  I nod and realize that it’s two stories. The guys are going to kill me since we already had to go down three floors with my shit.

  “It’s gorgeous inside,” Harry says.

  “When were you here?” Ed asks.

  “That night they did girls’ night at your house.”

  Ed mutters under his breath. I didn’t witness the debauchery, but apparently it was pretty bad. Ed hasn’t allowed a girl’s night in his kitchen since.

  We walk up the steps to the porch and, again, I am taken aback. It’s filled with plants and wrought iron furniture.

  I knock on the door and hear a faint, “Come in.” I step inside. The house is quiet. “Savannah?”

  “Back here,” she calls out. I’m walking back in the direction of her voice but can’t help but be impressed with the house. There are small Mexican influences throughout the entire living room, including a massive fireplace with bright colored tiles on the hearth. The dark wood should overpower everything, but it doesn’t. The cream-colored walls are littered with pictures, mainly family.

  I step back into a room that she has set up as her office. There is a long table that holds her laptop and lots of stacks of papers. When I focus on her, I realize she has her hair piled up on top of her head. She’s wearing a pair of boxer shorts with tacos on them and a black tank top. It’s the least amount of clothes I have ever seen her in. I look down at her feet, which are bare. I would have never thought she would have cotton pink painted toes. Also, I never thought I would be intrigued by what colors she painted her toes.

  “Hey,” she says, saving whatever she was working on. I snap my gaze up to hers. She looks tired still, smudges darken the skin beneath her eyes. I’d have thought she would have gotten some rest last night, but apparently not. And I know she was just working, so her day off from work includes dealing with me moving in and also doing work.

  “We have a lot of help.”

  “Great. Let me show you where your room is. You said you had a bed, right? And a sofa?”

  I nod as she rises and walks past me. What was that scent? Something…Hispanic. Okay, I don’t mean it that way. I mean, there’s a spice to her scent, one that reminds me of the food she cooks at her restaurant.

  I turn to follow her and get myself back under control. Savannah is an attractive woman but is in the category of no touching. Remember that discussion from Friday night? She’s a friend and now my landlady. I expect her to go up the stairs, but she ignores it and steps through a sunroom that is filled with plants, then through another door that leads to the suite she was telling me about. Thank god.

  “I haven’t done much with it since I moved back in.”

  “Why did you live in an apartment instead of here?”

  She shrugged. “I rented it out.”

  The room is small but there is another arched doorway. “The bedroom is through here.”

  I follow her again into a bigger room. There is plenty of room for my king bed and dresser.

  “Bathroom is over there. Full bath like I said.”

  “Wow, Savannah, this is nice.”

  “Tito had it built for my abuela. She lived with him the three years before she died. She couldn’t get up the stairs that well.”

  I look at her and that’s when I get it. She understands how important Grannie Pam is to me. The way she said abuela tells me how much she cared about her grandmother.

  “Again, thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  “You might regret it. I’m an asshole.”

  I laugh and she smiles. Her eyes sparkle. They are dark hazel with solid gold rims around the irises. She looks damned tired. And cute. I don’t mention either though because both will probably get my ass kicked.

  “Hello?” Mrs. B calls out. She steps into the room. “Oh, your abuela’s room?” she asks as she gives Savannah a hug.

  “Yeah, I thought it would be a good place for Fritz. He can have some privacy. Also,” she says walking over to another door, “there’s a separate entrance. Same key that opens the front door works here. Just make sure to keep it locked.”

  “Of course.”

  “I have a garage out back if you want to keep your motorcycle in there. I park my car on the street.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  She nods. “I need some more coffee. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  When she leaves me alone with Mrs. B, I say nothing.

  “She has a kind heart,” Mrs. B says.

  “She hides it.”

  Mrs. B sighs. “She’s learned some tough lessons from the people she calls a family.”

  I want to ask more because, truth is, I don’t know much about her. I know her in a sense, and we are friendly. But I didn’t grow up with her like Harry and Allison did.

  “Hey,” Ed calls out.

  “We’re back here,” Mrs. B says. Harry and Ed step into the room, having the same reaction that we had.

  “Damn, this is nice,” Harry says. “Maybe EJ and I should move in here.”

  “That might be too many people for Savannah to handle,” I say with a chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”

  As we file out, we work our way down the hall, and I hear Savannah laughing. Then I hear Mr. B talking.

  I step into the kitchen and, if the rest of the house is beautiful, this is out of this world.

  Bright blue cabinets are the first thing I see when I enter
, and the little Hispanic touches from the terra cotta tiles that warm the entire kitchen, along with the professional appliances and those amazing tiled walls. Open shelving dominates the opposite wall, and in the center is a massive island. I’m a decent cook—certainly no chef—but I would definitely love to cook in here.

  “Wow,” Ed says stepping into the room. “Martinez, you’ve been hiding this from me?”

  She laughs. “I just don’t think about telling people.”

  What she really means is she doesn’t want anyone in her space. Although, she’s allowing me, so that’s pretty damned big for her.

  “This is nothing. Tito has a great outdoor cooking area,” she says.

  There’s a Dutch door that Mr. B opens, and we all walk out to the patio. Jesus, this is a grilling master’s dream. A smoker—professional—a wood-burning pizza oven, and a regular grill are on the far side of the patio. The awninged area has a long table, wrought iron, and brightly covered cushions decorate the chairs.

  “Damn,” Harry says from behind me. “I had no idea.” He says it beneath his breath, and I know he’s not judging her, but probably wondering why the fuck she never had us over. When I look at her, I see the anxiety, all these people in her space, the dark smudges that always seem to be present beneath her eyes and I get it. She doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain. She apparently has some issues with people in her space—more so than I thought before.

  Looking beyond the outdoor cooking station, the lawn and garden are a dream. Thick grass fills most of the half acre behind her house. Trees fill the sides of the privacy fence along with perennials and bushes. The first lilies are already blooming thanks to our early spring. There is only one area without anything, blocked off, no grass or plants.

  I want to ask her about it, but I decide to wait on that. I can feel the anxiety pouring off her; although, I don’t know if anyone else notices. The guys are looking over the grills and smoker.

  “Well, let’s get my stuff out of the truck before those storms move in.”