She nodded once. “And you don’t mess with Amber when it comes to cupcake selling.”
We strode toward the door of the barn but stopped short near a room full of people. There was a woman on the stage, and she was giving an oratory about fashion.
“What is going on?” I asked, searching for a sign to indicate why Darla was up there talking about mini-skirts and leather jackets. I spotted the sign at the same time Haylee gave a derisive snort next to me. “Strawberry Fest Princess,” I read aloud. “Are you kidding me? She’s running for Strawberry Fest Princess after what happened in the bakery the other day?” My voice was a little loud, and a few of the people in the back of the room turned to glare at us.
We shrunk back and headed for the door again, with Haylee’s arm slung through mine and laughter on her lips. “Darla will run for anything if it means the spotlight is on her.”
“How does someone her age run for Strawberry Fest Princess?” I asked, confused.
“As long as you’re single, you can enter the competition. Is it meant for the young girls of Lake Pendle? Sure, but until they change the rules, you can be ninety-five and enter as long as you’ve never been married.”
“God knows she will still be running at ninety-five then,” I muttered.
Haylee grinned and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Today is the interview and oratory portion and tomorrow night they hold the pageant. We can go watch if you want to.”
“I would rather clean out the grease trap at the bakery on a Friday night than watch that witch prance around on a stage. Besides, how is she going to do that when she has to bake cupcakes in the afternoon? She’ll barely have time to put on her ballgown and get on stage.”
“Don’t you know?” my cupcake asked with laughter in her voice. “Witches wear the same gown to everything.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t love her more, she reminded me that I could. The fact that I’d finally come to terms with the idea that I loved her wasn’t as startling as I expected it to be. Gazing down at her beautiful face turned pink by the sunshine told me it was time to admit that truth to her, too. I had to take the next step. I just hoped she was ready to walk beside me.
Nineteen
Night had fallen, and the stars were out when we left my apartment to start baking. It was relatively early at one a.m., but with the bake-off later today, we had a lot of ground to cover. We wouldn’t be open since the bakery had a booth at the fair, but we still needed goodies to sell at the booth. Able Baker Brady refused to make any of his artisan bread a day ahead, which meant we had to do it tonight. I couldn’t blame him. No one would be happy with day-old bread when they were expecting fresh from the oven.
“Come here,” he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me away from the doorway of the bakery and across the street.
“Brady, we need to get to work,” I said, looking behind me as he dragged me up the street.
“We will, but we have plenty of time. I want to show you something,” he said, his hand warm and tight in mine.
The lake came into view, and I shook my head in exasperation. “I’ve seen the lake before, Brady.”
“I know you have, but have you seen it at one a.m. when the stars look like they’re touching the water and the moon has rested its beam across the glassy surface.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I said on a sigh as he pulled me under a giant oak tree with an overhang nearly to the ground. “It is pretty amazing,” I said, gazing out at it as he held me from behind, his back against the tree and me tight to his chest. “You can almost count the stars.”
His hand shot out at a light that was streaking through the sky. I followed his finger as he moved it toward the water. “Make a wish on the shooting star.”
I leaned my head back against his shoulder and sighed. “I think my wish came true already. I was just too stupid to realize it sooner.”
“What was your wish?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“To find someone to seriously date by the time I was thirty.”
“Seriously date?” he asked in confusion. “Versus?”
“Casually date or whatever,” I said, suddenly unsure of myself.
“Are we seriously dating, cupcake?”
I turned and slapped my hand against his chest. “Why do you keep calling me cupcake when I tell you all the time to stop? It’s very disrespectful,” I said, changing the subject, incredibly self-aware that I’d put my foot in my mouth again.
“I’m not being disrespectful when I call you cupcake. I’m doing what I said I’d do from the beginning.”
“Piss me off?” I asked, confused.
He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “No, show you your worth.”
“And calling me cupcake, when it’s a derogatory name I don’t like, accomplishes that?”
“Let me ask you this. How do you feel when Darla calls you a fluffy cupcake?”
“Angry, sad, disrespected, and undeserving of my success.”
He grasped my hand and held it to his chest. “All valid feelings, I agree. How do you feel when I say, fuck me harder, cupcake in your ear every night?”
I squirmed, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand or let me turn away. “I guess I feel the opposite. Happy, respected, and deserving of your time and attention.”
“How do you feel when I teasingly say, pass me the flour, cupcake?”
“The same?” I asked, and he grasped my chin, planting a light kiss on my lips.
“Question or statement?”
“Statement,” I said. “I know that’s how I feel, but I don’t know where this is going.”
“It’s going exactly where I wanted it to go. I call you cupcake to show you that depending on who says it, and in what way, you can have different emotions about it. If you let Darla’s connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then she wins. If you let my connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then you win. I call you cupcake because I respect the hell out of you, Haylee Davis. To me, when I call you that, it’s a name filled with the utmost love and respect. That said, if you still don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
I swung my head back and forth a few times, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes from his sweet admission. “Now that you’ve explained it, I see very plainly what you were doing. I just didn’t realize how much it would matter to me to hear your explanation.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he hugged me, his lips finding my ear to kiss before his teeth tugged on the lobe. “Wait. Love and respect?” I asked, lifting my head to stare into his eyes. “You meant that in a friend kind of way, right?”
He shook his head, barely enough for me to notice. “No, I meant in the I love you, kind of way, Haylee. It took me about one second after I kissed you to know that the crush I’d had on you all these years wasn’t about sex. I know you felt it, too. It was fire.” I nodded, swallowing hard when he balanced his forehead against mine. “When I realized that kissing you in the bakery made you nervous, I just wanted to make it right. I wanted you to know that I respected you and your business. When I sank into you the first time that night, God,” he whispered, his eyes gazing at my lips. “I was just a goner, cupcake. Still am. Always will be for you.”