Page 42 of Cupcake

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“She’s losing it,” Brady said through clenched teeth. “Do you think they’ll disqualify her for the cupcake bake-off now?”

I snorted and picked my hat up off the floor where it had fallen when she attacked me. “Not unless they charge her with something, which they won’t. They know she will find a lawyer to get her off, and all it will do is make her even more insufferable.”

“Let her show up and bake,” Amber said, her eyes rolling. “She can’t beat the dream team.”

“Now we’re the dream team?” I asked, joking with Brady.

“You’re the girl of my dreams, how about that?” he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Oh sure, the fatso is your dream come true. Darla’s right, you know, you could do so much better.”

“You’re both wrong, which we will discuss later, in private,” he said, his lips in a thin line.

“I’m in Brady’s camp, if that matters,” Amber piped up. “No one is better than my bestie. I hope that’s enough of a hint to him not to mess with you. He messes with you, and he messes with me.”

Brady put his hands up by his chest. “I can read between the lines. Speaking of the cupcake bake-off,” he said, to change the subject. “It’s in less than a week. We need to do a few more run-throughs to make sure we’re a well-oiled machine.”

Amber shooed us to the back with her hands. “Why don’t you two make another test batch while I clean up and wait for Mrs. Mack to pick up the coveted cupcakes?”

“Make a test batch so that you can eat them?” I asked teasingly.

“I’ll be real with you. Yes. Also, add more marshmallow fluff this time to the frosting. Did you try adding it to the cake itself? I think that would be divine.”

“What is this? The Great British Bake Off?” I asked, grabbing a clean apron from the hook on the wall.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” she said, spun on her heel and disappeared back into the bakery to do her work.

“She might be onto something,” Brady whispered, walking up to me and pulling me into him. “But I don’t want to make cupcakes. I want to go upstairs with you and help you relax. Is your head okay?” He rubbed the sides of my head with his thumbs and then kissed my lips gently, grimacing when he remembered his promise not to kiss me in the bakery again. “I know I said I would stay hands off at work, but I was scared to death when I came around the corner and saw you in that bitch’s grasp.”

I chuckled and clasped his wrists with my hands. “It’s okay. I won’t tell the bakery police if you don’t. As for my head, it’s fine. I’m ticked off and shaking inside, but I’m not hurt physically. As much as I want to relax, I won’t be able to. Let’s whip up a batch of Berry Sinful, and maybe after I take my frustrations out on the cupcake batter, I’ll feel better about the day.”

He leaned down and kissed my nose. “I’m your guy then. Let’s perfect this recipe so we can show Darla just what The Fluffy Cupcake is made of.”

“Considering that’s what she calls me,” I said, leaving the sentence open.

“The bakery, not its baker,” he clarified, his brow down to his nose. “I’m rather fond of the baker and happen to know there is nothing fluffy about her. She’s all woman and all mine.”

He went off to gather ingredients for the cake while I braced my palms on the bench and sucked in a few deep breaths. Darla had always been the bane of my existence, but if she ever threatened me or this business again, I would make sure she paid for it in ways she couldn’t even fathom.