She tucked my hair back behind my ears and straightened my apron. “Do you believe him?”
“Time will tell, but for the most part, I do. He’s never been about his ego, and I don’t see that changing now. He has had multiple opportunities to have issues being managed by two women, and he never has.”
“No, he hasn’t. I don’t think he’s wired that way. He’s easy to work with because he’s a team player. He isn’t afraid to take criticism and work harder the next time to prove himself. Guys like him are hard to come by, as you know.”
I nodded and took a deep breath, reminding myself that sleeping with Brady was completely different than being in a relationship with him. “I do know, and that probably helped me see that Brady’s a different kind of man. He embraces what other men find off-putting—from my hips to my ass to the fact that I own a bakery. None of that fazes him.”
Amber snorted and rolled her eyes to her hairline. “Not true. The hips and ass, those faze him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off them all morning.”
“That might be due to the promise I made him of a repeat performance tonight,” I said on a wink as I pushed past her and threw the door open.
Brady stood by the door with his arms crossed. “I was worried. Your cupcakes almost burned.”
“I knew you’d look out for my cupcakes,” I said, hip-checking him on my way by to the oven. “But also,” I tapped the timer clipped to the pocket of my coat.
He grinned and kept his arms crossed over his chest as I started pulling cupcakes out of the oven. “What are you doing?” I finally asked without making eye contact.
“Trying to remind myself this is my place of employment, and ravishing you here would be a bad idea.”
“A terrible one,” Amber said, coming out of the cooler with more cupcakes. “At least if I’m in the room.”
All three of us laughed, but it was when Amber left that he stepped up to me and closed the oven door after the last pan was pulled. “She knows?”
“She refused to open the door until I told her,” I admitted, my breath heavy with him so close to me. All I could think about was the way he felt warm against my thighs last night. “She could tell something had changed. It wasn’t like I could lie to her when you keep staring at my ass like it’s better than sliced bread.”
“Well, it is,” he said without pause. “Way better.”
“Hey, baker man?”
“Yes, cupcake?”
I pointed at the oven. “While you’ve been busy ogling my ass, your buns are burning.”
He jumped into action, pulling the buns out at the last second before they would be considered overdone, but not before he patted my ass.
I chuckled all the way back to the bench with my cupcakes in hand. “Maybe you’re the one who needs a timer.”
Fifteen
What the hell was going on? I set the piping bag down when I heard raised voices from the front of the bakery. It sounded like Amber could use some help with some unruly customers.
“I want the black forest cupcakes. If you don’t give them to me, I’ll report you to the Better Business Bureau!”
“That’s not how the Better Business Bureau works,” Amber said dryly. “Regardless, those cupcakes are for a special order, which is why they’re neatly packaged and awaiting pick up.”
“First come, first serve,” the woman demanded.
I rolled my eyes. Why does Darla always have to show up and ruin a perfectly good day?
“Is there a problem here, ladies?” I asked, stepping behind the counter to stand next to Amber. We decided when the store first opened that we’d always show a united front with customers—giving them the idea that our alliance was to anything other than the business wasn’t going to happen. Especially when that customer was Darla McFinkle.
“Yes, little Miss Fluffy Cupcake!” Darla exclaimed, tossing up her hands. Geez, this woman and her dramatics. How did she manage to get through life when she was always this worked up about things? “I want to purchase some black forest cupcakes and your business partner,” which she said with a mouthful of acid, “won’t let me!”
“Well, of course not. Those cupcakes are for a special order. They should be picking them up at any moment.” I dramatically checked the clock, mostly to hide the smirk on my face.
“Too bad. I’m here, and I want cupcakes. They should have to wait for you to make more.”
“Are you kidding me with this?” Amber asked, leaning forward on the counter with her palms. “The order was made three days ago and paid for already. Therefore, those cupcakes are already the property of the customer.”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” Darla snarled.
This woman drove me crazy. She didn’t want the damn cupcakes. She wanted to start a fight, draw attention to herself, and make us look bad.
“You’re absolutely right, Darla,” I said, nodding with her. I could see in her sarcastic smirk that she thought she’d won. “Since I’m in possession of those cupcakes, I get to make the decisions. They will go to the person who ordered and paid for them. Can I interest you in one of our Chocolate Heath cupcakes?”
“What I want is a black forest cupcake! Since your establishment is unable to provide for the customer what they want, I won’t be frequenting it any longer.” She spun in a huff on her heel toward the door.
The snort escaped before I could stop it. “Well, that’s tragic. I’m sure I’ll go home and cry about that for at least zero minutes. I might even crack open that bottle of champagne I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”
“I’ll join you,” Amber said dryly.
Darla paused in her forward motion and spun back slowly, her jaw clenched and her hands fisted at her side. “You’ll pay for that comment, fatso!” she exclaimed, lunging over the counter at me.
Before I could react, she had my hair in her hands and was yanking me over the counter by it. Spittle flew from her mouth like a rabid dog as she grappled with getting me over the counter, but Amber grabbed hold of my waist and screamed for help.
“Let her go before you hurt her!” she yelled, her voice frantic and worried.
“What is going on in here?” a voice asked. “Darla, let go of her right now!” Brady boomed from behind me while my scalp screamed for release.
Darla stopped pulling but didn’t let go. “Back away, baker boy. This is between fatso and me. We don’t need your help to solve this.”
Brady walked into my line of sight and around the counter but didn’t touch Darla. “I don’t know what your problem is, but if you don’t let go of Haylee this instant, you’re going to have an even bigger problem on your hands.”
Instead of releasing me, she pulled harder, forcing me to slide my stomach up onto the counter to stop her from ripping out my hair. I grasped her wrists, not wanting to fight back but afraid she was going to rip my hair out if I didn’t do something.
“This ends now,” another voice said from the doorway. “Release Chef Davis and put your hands behind your back,” Officer Jack Stevens said, his gun belt clanking as he approached the still rabid woman. “If you don’t release her now, I will arrest you for assault.”