Page 3 of Sugar and Spice
“Why, but why would you-”
“The wine! Were you not listening? The whole bottle of wine, and that judge.” She threw out her hands.“The macarons.”
“Piper!” I closed my eyes and dropped down into a squat, hands going to my temples. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
“The injustice of it all!”Piper continued on a yell.
“Piper,” I groaned, head between my knees. “Piper, how do they think we’re married from one drunk voicemail?” I held up a hand and asked, “Why do they think we’re marriednow?”
Her eyes darted to the side and she chewed on her bottom lip.
“Piper.” I growled, and she sighed.
“I might have said that you were engaged when they called to follow up.”
“What?” I let loose a screech on par with whatever a pterodactyl would have been capable of. Piper yelped, hopping from foot to foot as I continued to yell. “For the love of god, explain yourself and do it now!”
“I know!” she cried and rushed on before I could scream again, “I didn’t think it would get this big! They called me back and I had forgotten about it, but they didn’t. Oh, god, and now they are coming here! And they think you’re married to Austin! Oh god, Oh goddddd!”
“I don’t even...how drunk were you?” I whispered.
“Really drunk. It was after Bobby broke up with me, and I was just, I was really emotional, okay?”
I rubbed my hands against my temples and then stared down at the floor. “And they are here now? You’re going to tell me they’re here now, aren’t you?”
She gave a quick jerk of her head. “They just got here today.”
“Are you kidding me?” I cried and looked up at her. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“I would say, tell them the truth, but they already talked to Austin.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I put a hand against my mouth feeling like I might be sick. “Oh my god.What,” I paused and swallowed hard before daring to ask, “what did he say?”
“That you were married.”
CHAPTER2
AUSTIN
There were few things I liked more than winning, but one of those things had to be the look on Daisy Ortiz’s face when I beat her to win. Damn, it was a beautiful sight. I grinned, watching the woman storm up the sidewalk and towards my bakery door. Daisy was named after the flower, but there wasn’t much that was soft about her. She was tough. I liked that.
Didn’t mean she wasn’t pretty as a flower though. She was still the prettiest woman in town, even looking like she was on the warpath. It didn’t help that it was Christmas outside. Daisy hated Christmas and she was stomping through the Nativity scene in the middle of the town square like Krampus. She was pissed off all right, but it wasn’t just the holidays that had her in a snit.
I’d had my part in it. Well, not just a part in it, I’d had a big hand in setting her off. She had shoved a beanie over her head, but it still couldn’t hide how beautiful her hair was, all those dark curls shining in the morning light. She wore a thick parka against the winter chill, but I knew exactly what she looked like underneath it. Daisy was tall, had generous hips and a rack that could kill. She was soft in all the right places with thick thighs that begged a man to put his hands on them, or his face between…
I bit my lip thinking about what sound might fall from her full lips if I did manage to find my way between those soft thighs. How would it feel to have her dark eyes on me, eyes that were a warm brown and ocher, almost hazel when the light hit them just right. Those high cheekbones and a defined jawline I was pretty damn familiar with. Mostly because Daisy was clenching it when she was in my presence.
I pissed her off. We both knew it. I thrived under the attention. I had been pissing Daisy off for as long as I could remember, all the way back to first grade when they’d paired us up as desk mates and I’d stolen her favorite pencil.
She’d been angry then, but now she was livid. What I had done went far beyond a stolen pencil. I crossed the front of my bakery, Finnigan and Co., and poured myself a cup of coffee as I waited for the inevitable storm that was Daisy to hit the calm of my shop. I glanced around taking in the neatness of it all. Carefully ordered baskets full of baked goods waited for customers’ hands on high topped tables lining the length of the space. There were Christmas paper garlands and holly branches strung up along the windows. Lights twinkled along the storefront and there was Bing Crosby Christmas Classics playing softly in the background. All of that was going to tick Daisy off on top of what I’d done, but she could deal. I had no problem with Christmas. And besides, it looked good in the space. It had been passed down to me through my family, right down to the antique cash register sitting to the left of me. My family had used it since Finnigan and Co. opened. The thing weighed a ton, but it was my pride and joy. I was glad it was so heavy, otherwise Daisy might try and nail me with it. I was going to be lucky if she didn’t kick over a display table or try to strangle me with the lights I had up front. I was also glad the shop was relatively empty today except for a couple of regulars perusing the bread loaves. They were local, same as Daisy and I. Whatever happened they wouldn’t bat an eyelash, even though I knew they would be running to tell all of Clarity that Daisy and I were at it again.
I nodded at one of them and sipped my coffee while I counted down the seconds before Daisy was inside the storefront.
3...
“Good morning, Mrs. O’Leary. You finding everything okay?”
She nodded and held up a loaf. “Your sourdough is the best in town, but I go to Sweet Tooth for everything else,” she told me by way of greeting.
