Page 3 of A Taste of Trouble

They both chuckled.

“Let's get to work.” She headed to the back room. “It's time to fix the world, one cupcake at a time.”

She turned, but just before she stepped behind the curtain, Austin said, “Liv, just answer me one thing.”

She quietly groaned, hoping that Austin wasn't going to resurrect the ma

n topic.

“Is there anything a cupcake can't fix?”

Liv wasn't a religious person, not even a spiritual person, but without a doubt, she believed in the ability of the cupcake to always turn a frown upside down.

A smile spread wide across her face. “Not a chance.”

…

Later that evening, Liv dimmed the overhead lights of McLean's Bar and Grill. It was her second to last shift as a bartender, and her feelings were bittersweet. Bartending had been the means to which she'd been able to save up and follow her dream. But she could live out the rest of her life with happiness without ever seeing a chicken wing or drunken idiot again.

She watched from her perch behind the bar, taking in the dark wood furniture and forest green walls. Worn tables and chairs lined the restaurant floor and neon beer signs hung on the wall. Two waitresses scurried up and down the aisles delivering food and drinks to the familiar crowd that called McLean's their home away from home. She knew exactly how they felt. For the last ten years, McLean's had been her second home, too. She bent down to adjust the volume of the satellite radio—her favorite classic rock wasn't loud enough for her liking.

“What's up, lady?” Austin knocked on the bar behind her.

Liv jumped. “Jesus, Ozzie. When did you get here?”

“Same time I did.” Patti popped up from the other side of the bar. “Hi, Liv.”

Liv was glad for the arrival of her friends. The night had been slow, her usual customers not so entertaining.

With his ass barely situated on the stool, Austin pointed to the counter behind Liv. She smiled and brought him the Tupperware container that housed that morning's experiment. In the spirit of the fast-approaching St. Patrick's Day celebrations, Liv baked a double chocolate cupcake with white butter cream icing that looked just like a pint of Guinness. She had even etched out tiny harps and clovers on top of the icing.

“Don't mind if I do.” Austin wiggled his fingers above the cupcakes, making sure to only touch the one he wanted. Although, knowing his eating habits, he'd have no problem going along with the “you touch it, you bought it” method.

She held out the container to Patti, who declined with a slight shake of her head, her mousy brown ponytail shaking.

“Don't let my dad see those,” Patti warned. “He told me the other day his customers are getting fat and it's not because of the beer.”

Liv laughed and shrugged off her comment. “He's probably the one with the expanding waistline. He's my best customer.”

The McLeans had taken Liv in as a surrogate daughter when she'd met Patti in her first year of University. They gave her a job and a place to call home since her own family lived two hours away.

The wave of a hand at the opposite end of the bar caught Liv's attention. The group of unfamiliar men that had showed up at the beginning of her shift was in need of a refill. “I'll be right back.”

Liv approached the group. “Drinks, boys?”

“Can we have a pitcher of Heineken this time?” The vocal one of the group looked up from the papers he was reviewing. He had a warm smile and shiny brown hair, but he wore his dress shirt and tie like armor.

The blonde of the group was partial to sweater vests. The other dark-haired man looked like he had just stepped out of AP magazine—he had that rocker grunge look perfected. All three of them were attractive. Not usually her type—but still attractive. But just like every other male who walked through the doors of this bar, they were ordinary.

“You got it.”

While concentrating on pouring the draft, the hair on Liv's arms and neck stood at attention when the cold March air filtered in from the open door. A new customer walked up the steps toward her. As he walked by, her stomach tightened and her breath became heavy.

The man was eye candy at its finest. Intense green eyes? Check. Black power suit? Check. Broad shoulders, strong jaw, hair styled to look messy? Check, check, and check. Without a doubt, he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

“Jake!” Vocal Guy yelled from his seat at the bar.

And his name was Jake.

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