Page 32 of Cowboy Devil's Embrace

Too unpredictable.

Too many variables.

I was more a carousel girl. But nowadays, even that made me dizzy.

Still, I didn’t need some overly good looking man to waltz into my store and pretend-flirt with me out of misguided pity or because he was looking for a favor.

“Sugar, I think you are underestimating your charm?—”

“Why don’t you come back tomorrow or better yet never?—”

“Ouch, that is harsh. What about my order?” he asked, still grinning at me like I hadn’t just been rude.

“Your order? Oh shit, the cupcakes.”

I snapped my fingers just as my best friend entered the storefront with a bang of the swinging door.

“Here you go, Penny. Holy Hubba! These cupcakes are packing, and so is he,” Avery blurted as she came to an abrupt stop right beside me almost upending the triple decker boxes of cakey goodness.

I grabbed them before they could fall and placed them on the counter and frowned hard at my bestie, who was currently inspecting the man like he was a bug under a magnifying glass.

“Um. Thank you, Avery,” I mumbled and glared at her.

“Yeah, sure. So, who are you?” Avery asked, ignoring me completely.

I didn’t like what was happening to me, but I was adult enough to admit it. Watching my very pretty best friend talk to this guy was making me feel uneasy.

A little jelly, truth be told.

Avery was beautiful and single and fun as fuck. She was the best person I knew. But I had never felt jealous of her before. And I didn’t like feeling that way now.

It made me feel like a lousy friend. And I was not that. I frowned again.

Hard.

“Hello there,” he replied with a smile for Avery that made my stomach tighten and my breath hitch.

What the actual fuck?

Okay, this was insane. I did not know this man from Adam, and I had no claim on him whatsoever.

I’d sworn off men after Burt, or at least, I thought I had. But this man, this stranger, with his dark good looks and liquid blue eyes was making me feel things I should not be feeling.

Rule number one of besties, you did not pant after someone who was obviously interested in your friend.

“The name’s Maximillian Leeds, but you can call me Max. And you are?” he asked Avery.

“Um, here’s your order. I believe you prepaid over the phone. Thank you and enjoy,” I said, cutting off both of them and shoving the full pastry box at the man,er, Max.

He grinned at me, lifting one eyebrow, but left the boxes on the counter.

Jerk.

“I’m Avery Brown,” mysoon-to-beformer best friend said as she pushed past me.

“This is Penelope Abruzzi. She is single, talented, and she owns this bakery. Well, she just went through the worst divorce?—”

“Avery!” I hissed, my face positively flaming.

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