My chin was trembling when I lifted my head from the ring to gaze into his eyes. They were so full of love, honor, and a speck of fear that my tears spilled over my lashes. “You want me to marry you?” I stuttered, my brain having paused when he cracked the box open. “Are you sure?”
He chuckled and grasped my hand, holding it tightly in his. “As sure as I was the day I accepted the position as kitchen manager at a little bakery in a town no one had ever heard of before. I knew then that I was going to marry you. I’ve waited seven years to ask this question, but if you need more time, I will wait for seven more.”
I shook my head slowly, and his eyes dimmed a bit with frustration. “No, I don’t need more time. I love you, Brady. I don’t want to wait seven more years to marry you. I don’t even want to wait seven more days.”
“Is that a yes?” Mrs. Mulberry asked in a stage whisper.
I chuckled and winked at him, the relief on his face filling my heart with so much love it nearly burst. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Brady Pearson.”
He had the ring on my finger before I blinked, and then he picked me up in a hug, swinging me back and forth gently, his lips to my ear. “I love you, cupcake.”
“And I love you. As it turns out, you can have your cake and eat it, too,” I promised, the light of forever filling his eyes when his lips talked mine into being his today, tomorrow, and always.
Tart
The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2
Coming Soon!
My name is Amber Phyllis Larson, and I’m terrified of thunderstorms. Embarrassing for a woman of thirty to admit, but there it is in a nutshell. At three a.m. on a Wednesday morning in late May, it was dark, the skies were heavy with rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance over Lake Pendle. We shouldn’t have to deal with thunderstorms this early in the season in Minnesota, but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that.
I popped a pod of coffee into the machine and waited while it spit the rich, black coffee into my travel mug. Whoever said the early bird gets the worm had never worked in a bakery for nine years. I didn’t just work in a bakery for nine years, though. I’d been the co-owner of The Fluffy Cupcake with my best friend, Haylee, for all nine of those bliss-filled years. She was recently married to Brady Pearson, her partner in crime at the baker’s bench and now in life. That left me, the only one of the dynamic duo to remain single, much to my mother’s chagrin. Unlike Haylee or my mother, I didn’t see being single at thirty as the end of the world.
I chuckled to myself when I snapped the lid on my travel mug and turned off the kitchen light. Last year, Haylee decided she had to be in a committed relationship before she turned thirty. She made that resolution on New Year’s Eve, which only gave her seven months and thirteen days to find Mr. Wonderful. She was so focused on her goal that she was too obtuse to see that the perfect guy was already right in front of her face. So, I set her up with every guy I knew she wouldn’t be able to tolerate for more than an hour, much less forever. I’m happy to report my plan worked. If she ever found out I tortured her on purpose, she wouldn’t be amused, but sometimes, we need a little help to see what is directly in front of our face.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a deep breath before I opened the door to my apartment. With any luck, I’d make it to the bakery before it started to storm any harder. I hated driving in lightning and thunder. Childish, I know, but if you’d lived my life the last seventeen years, you’d understand. I stuffed my thin athletic frame inside the car and slammed the door. Haylee was always jealous of the fact that I could eat anything I wanted from the bakery case without gaining a pound. I was always jealous of the fact that she had curves. What she saw as a negative feature, I would kill to have. Women are funny that way, I guess.
I shut off the engine in front of the bakery as the first drop of rain hit the windshield of my Subaru. I grabbed my purse and mug, limped to the door, and made it under the awning as the skies opened up and the rain sluiced down. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the smell of fresh bread and cakes hit me straight in the face. The scent was always like coming home. I loved that I worked in a place that brought so many people joy day after day, but I loved the people I worked with even more.
“Hey, Amber!” Brady yelled from the back of the bakery. “Glad you beat the rain in.”
“Barely,” I said as the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. I darted away from the window and to the back of the bakery where I couldn’t see it. I never said I wasn’t a chicken. “Where’s Hay-Hay?” I asked, grabbing my apron off the hook after I put my purse in the office.
“In the cooler. We have cupcakes coming out of our ears and no place to put them.”
I pointed at him. “That’s why I came in early. I figured you guys were going to be scrambling to get the order ready for the school this morning.”
Brady laughed and went back to his bread kneading. “Scrambling is an understatement. I’m sure she would appreciate the help. I have to finish the standing bread and bun orders.”
Brady had become a master baker last summer and was now in charge of all the bread baking for The Fluffy Cupcake. Haylee was in charge of the pastries, cakes, and cupcakes, which meant with an order the size she had today, she was going to need help, or our bakery case would be empty this morning.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and I darted for the cooler, glad Brady had his back to me. Did I mention that I hate storms? I grabbed a jacket off the hook and slipped it on, then opened the cooler door and stepped in. I wasn’t upset to be in the cooler. It was our safe place for severe weather, and you couldn’t see the lightning inside.
“Hey, cupcake,” I said, gazing at the scene before me. “It looks like a cupcake apocalypse in here.”
Haylee stood up and blew out a breath, the action rustling the hair that had fallen over her forehead. “Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“I don’t know what the problem is, Hay-Hay. I mean, forty-one dozen cupcakes are like no big deal,” I said, flipping my hand around while I imitated her. “That’s what you told me when I asked if I should take the order again this year.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to her cupcake counting. “It’s not a big deal when I thought I was going to make generic cupcakes. When I found out they wanted the school logo on each one, then it became a big deal.”
I peeked at the tray of cupcakes closest to me and grinned. “They look great, though! Look at the cute penguins.” The Lake Pendle Penguins was the school’s logo, and even growing up here, I never entirely understood it. We don’t have penguins in Minnesota.
“They’re cute, but they’re a pain in my gigantic ass,” she muttered, putting together another cake box to start packing cupcakes. At this rate, it will only take nine hundred boxes to transport them all to the school. Maybe that was dramatic. It will only take thirteen. I started putting together another box and helped her move all of the cupcakes from pans to boxes.
“I know the kids at the elementary school are going to love them, Hay-Hay. They’re cute, and we all know they’re going to be delicious.” Another boom of thunder shook the cooler, and I leaned back against the shelf, covering my ears and waiting for it to pass before I started packing again. I didn’t want to drop a cupcake and get in trouble with the baker.