I have thousands of notifications. I’ve been tagged, reposted, liked, followed—you name it. Spoonful of Sugar is everywhere.
“Whoa.”
Georgie squeals, jumping up and down. She hops over the counter, rushing toward me to wrap her arms around my shoulders. “Congrats, babe.”
“Definitely ask your brothers if they want work,” I laugh. The three of us glance at each other, and laughter starts bubbling up inside me. I throw my arms around my two best friends, still in shock over what my life has become.
“I’d better get to work,” I say, wiping the tears of joy from my eyes.
“I’ll help,” Georgie nods, pulling an apron off a hook on the wall. “Let’s prep.”
The Grand Opening of Spoonful of Sugar marks a huge change in my life. For the next sixty days, my life is complete bliss. I get up early, give Prince Luca a kiss on the cheek, and then bake for a few hours before the doors open. Every single day, we sell out of almost everything. Every single night, I work late, prepping for the next day.
I’m in my element.
For the first time in my life, people are congratulating me. They’re flocking to me, not my sister. I don’t love being the center of attention—but boy, do I love my pastries being in the spotlight. For once, it’s not pictures of Margot that I see online. It’s pictures of cinnamon buns and muffins and Danishes and tarts.
George ensures that I sign an ongoing contract with the castle, so that when he leaves to go back to Westhill Castle, the royal family will have a well-stocked breakfast and dessert table.
With the royal contract alone, Spoonful of Sugar can support itself.
Luca is supportive, loving, and attentive. His generosity with his time and love surprises me, and I lean on him more than I thought I ever could. It feels good to have someone by my side. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I met him.
He officially visits the bakery two weeks after it opens. With his presence comes even more media attention, and the major news outlet run a story on the opening of the bakery.
With the profits from the first couple of weeks, I’m able to hire the twins permanently, and get their brothers to help out, too. I expand the menu to include Irving’s unforgettable milkshakes, and the added exposure gives the diner a bit of a boost, too.
As the days go on, tiredness sinks deep into my bones. I blame it on the late nights and early mornings. When I throw up a few mornings, I blame it on the stress. I have a lot on my plate. My body is used to working hard, but not this hard. I’m sure it’ll adjust.
So, I just get to work. Week after week, I ignore the changes that are happening in my body. I gain a little weight, and I blame that on all the tasting and testing I do in the bakery.
When the first two whirlwind months of Spoonful of Sugar’s life comes to a close, I turn my attention to my sister. She’s due to get out of rehab soon, and I’m giddy at the thought of showing her what I’ve accomplished.
I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees the bakery—she’s always talked about how much I should open my own shop.
I know she’ll be happy for me…
…right?
The drive over to the therapy facility dampens my spirits slightly. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, chewing my lip as I wonder what will be waiting for me. I’ve spoken to Margot on the phone once a week, when she was allowed outside contact, but I haven’t seen her in three months.
The leaves have started to change, and I’m sure it’ll only be a few weeks until the first snow. It’s nearly October, and I can’t believe how much things have changed since that day in late May when I first met the Prince.
Now, I’m picking my sister up from an intensive therapy program.
Will she have changed?
Will she be happy?
Will she be healthy?
I park the car outside the facility and get out. A cool breeze whips around me as I walk toward the door, remind me that it’s autumn, and it’s about to get a lot colder out. I hug my arms to my chest and speed up, pushing the door and loving the relief of warmth inside the building.
Margot sits on a sofa with her hands folded on her lap, waiting. Her face breaks into a smile when she sees me. Her skin looks clear and bright, and her eyes look like her own again. Without the heavy makeup she used to wear, she looks like the sister I’ve been missing.
She’s gained some weight, and she looks good. Healthy.
Tears fall from my eyes as I wrap Margot in a tight hug.
“It’s good to see you,” I say, staring into her eyes.
My sister smiles, nodding. “You too, Ivy. I’ve missed you.” There are lines around her eyes and she looks wearier than she used to, but her gaze is clear.
“I have a surprise for you,” I say. “But it’s not urgent. If you want to go straight home, we can do that and leave the surprise until tomorrow.”
“You know the curiosity would kill me.” She laughs the musical sort of way she used to, before there were always cameras stuck in her face. Before she became closed off and anxious all the time.
I thread my fingers through hers and bring her outside, but the flash of a camera makes my heart sink.
“Don’t you have any fucking decency?” I shout at the paparazzi hiding in the bushes. “For fuck’s sake.”
Dragging my sister to the car, I get in as quickly as possible and drive off.
“They’re animals, those reporters,” I grunt, staring in the rear-view mirror.
“Just part of the price you pay for fame,” my sister says with a sad smile on her face. “I signed up for this. I’m sorry to put you through it, too.”
I shake my head. “I owe you a lot, Margot. More than I could ever say.”
Squeezing my sister’s hand, my heart feels at ease. With Margot back, it feels like my life is complete. Now, we can go back to normal. We can both live our lives to the fullest, and we can both be happy. Maybe Margot will help out at the bakery, or maybe it’ll become a new hub for us to hang out.
Excitement and nervousness war in my chest as I drive toward the bakery.
When I park the car in downtown Farcliff, I glance at my sister. “You ready?”
She grins. “I’m not sure.”
Nodding toward the main shopping street, I exit the car and hook my arm in hers. We walk slowly, and a hum of excitement builds in the pit of my stomach. It’s early afternoon, so the bakery won’t be jammed with people. Still, as we walk up, I can see a steady stream of people walking in and out.
I nudge my sister, unable to contain my excitement. “Look,” I say, pointing.
She frowns, tilting her head. “What am I looking at? A bakery?”
“Not just a bakery, Margot. My bakery. Don’t you remember Spoonful of Sugar? You came up with the name!”
Shock paints itself on my sister’s face, and after a long couple of seconds, she rearranges her features into a smile. “Wow!”
It sounds fake. My heart starts to thump.
“You’re not happy about this.” I shouldn’t have brought her here. It’s too much of a shock. She just needs normalcy, not a brand-new business for me to deal with. I should never have brought her here straight from the facility.
“I am!” She smiles again, but it looks too forced to be real. “I’m really happy. Of course I remember the name. Wow—how did you manage to do this?”
“I had a little help.” I open my mouth, but I don’t want to tell her about Prince Luca. One shock is enough for the day.
When I bring her inside the bakery, a murmur sounds through the customers inside. One influencer, busy taking selfies by the flower wall, lets out a yelp.
“Margot LeBlanc!”
To her credit, Margot slides right back into her old persona. She smiles at the influencer, and hooks her arm around the girl’s shoulders. They take a picture together, and the influencer runs off with her nose close to her phone screen, excited to post whatever picture she’s managed to take.
<
br /> Margot’s eyes scan everything. She finally looks at me, shaking her head.
“This is incredible, Ivy. Really, really great.”
This time, her smile seems genuine. Maybe knowing that her presence still has the same effect on people bolstered her confidence, and now she’s able to be happy for me, too.
Or maybe the shock has worn off, and my sister is back to herself.
“I guess I’m going to need a new PA, huh?” She wraps me in a hug, squeezing tight. “I’m happy for you, Ivy.”
In that moment, I think she means it.
For a few hours that day, I’m completely, utterly happy. I have my sister back. I have a boyfriend who cares about me. I have a new business that’s been successful right out of the gate.
It doesn’t feel like anything could ever go wrong.
32
Luca
The past three months have lulled me into a false sense of security. That’s the only explanation I have for not noticing the paparazzi following me to the bakery.
It’s become Ivy’s and my evening ritual—I pick her up when she’s done closing up, and we head back to her place together. By that time of day, she’s tired and happy, and ready for some food, a foot rub, and maybe an orgasm or two.
Today is a bit different. The tour with Damon and Dahlia has wrapped up, and Theo asked me to come back to Argyle. I leave in a couple of hours, so I’m just coming by to say goodbye to Ivy.
I walk in the back door of the bakery to find Ivy finishing up the last of her tasks for the day.
She smiles at me, leaning her head toward me for a kiss. As soon as she wipes the last counter down, she lets out a sigh.
“Margot saw the bakery.”
“You brought her straight here?”
Ivy nods. A bright, happy smile stretches across her lips. “She really liked it.”
I slide my hands around her waist, nuzzling my face into her hair. Ivy lets out a soft sigh, hooking her arms around my neck. We sway back and forth for a moment, and then I lay a soft kiss on her neck. I trail my lips up her jaw and over her mouth.
“Don’t go,” she sighs.
“I don’t want to.”
“Duty calls?” She lifts her eyes up to mine.
I nod, nudging her nose with mine. “I’ll be back in two weeks.”
“Miss you already.”
I press my lips to hers. Our kiss starts slow, and then slowly becomes more frantic. Within moments, Ivy is clawing at my pants, pushing them down to my ankles. She sits up on one of the stainless steel tables, wrapping her legs around my waist.
I groan, shaking my head. “You’re incredible, Poison.”
Her eyes darken, and a sinful smile tugs at her lips. “Will you fuck me, Luca? I won’t get to feel you for two whole weeks.”
I’ve never had such a strong, visceral reaction to someone saying simple words to me. My whole body arches toward her, as if every single cell in my body is screaming yes, yes, yes.
We don’t even have the time to remove any other clothing. Her dress gets flipped up to her waist, her panties pushed to the side, and I’m inside her. We claw, bite, rip, grunt, and explode together.
I’m breathless. Ivy is smiling, her hair falling out of her bun in all directions. She lets out a sigh, pulling her dress back down and shaking her head.
“I love the way you do that to me.”
Catching her chin in my hand, I kiss her perfect lips. “And I love you, Poison Ivy.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You love me?”
“Desperately.”
She sucks in a breath, and for a horrible second, I think I’ve made a mistake by telling her how I feel—but that feeling evaporates when she throws her arms around me and crushes her lips against mine.
“I love you too, Your Highness,” she says against my lips. “Luca. My Prince.”
I groan as my heart thumps against hers, holding her close to my body.
“Let’s get you home before I sit you up on that table again and fuck you senseless.”
“I mean, that doesn’t sound too bad, either,” Ivy grins. How she’s gone from a shy, uncertain girl to the vixen before me is a mystery, and one that I’m happy to accept.
I think I’m in a rose-colored haze when we exit the bakery, because again, I don’t look for photographers. I don’t even think about them.
I just walk Ivy to the passenger’s side of the car and cage her against it, kissing her viciously. My cock is hard again already, and she reaches between me to feel it, giggling in that sexy way that only she has.
We kiss like no one’s watching—like I’m about to bend her over the hood of the car and start round 2…
…until I hear the familiar sound of a camera shutter clicking.
The haze dissipates in an instant, and I’m on high alert.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
Ivy’s eyes are wide. She ducks into the car as the photographer comes closer, and I rush to the driver’s side. We screech out of the parking lot, and Ivy rubs her hands over her eyes.
“Oh, no.”
“It’s okay,” I say, sliding my hand over her thigh. “It’s fine. I want people to know.”
“I was hoping I could tell Margot myself…” Her eyebrows arch, and she cringes.
“She’ll understand.”
“It’s a lot to take in on the day you get out of an isolated retreat.”
“Maybe they won’t publish the photos right away.”
My thoughts flick to my own situation, when I learned that Cara had shacked up with Theo the day that I got out of the hospital in Singapore. Shame coats the back of my throat, and I shake my head.
It’s not the same. I was never with Margot—not really. I kissed her once. It was all fake.
Sliding my hand over Ivy’s thigh, I give it a squeeze and flash her what I hope is an encouraging smile. “It’ll be fine, Poison.”
She nods. “I hope so.” Her fingers thread into mine as she stares out the window.
My chest squeezes, and I force myself to take a full breath. I have to believe my own words. It’ll be fine. Margot will understand. Nothing bad will come of a few paparazzi pictures. It’s nothing new, and nothing I can’t handle.
But judging by the look on Ivy’s face, she’s not as used to them as I am. She’s used to being in the background. Used to seeing her sister’s face in the tabloids—not her own.
I stop the car outside Ivy’s house, and she gives me a sad smile.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Do you want me to come in? We could tell your sister together.”
Ivy shakes her head. “I’d better do it on my own. It’ll be better that way.”
“You sure?”
Ivy nods.
I kiss her gently. “I’ll be back soon. Theo said he has something to tell me, and he wants to do it in person.”
Ivy leans over the center console to give me a kiss. We linger there until I pull away.
“I have to go. The jet is waiting for me.”
Ivy sighs, kissing me one last time. “See you soon.”
She waves at me as I drive away, and I feel like we’ve turned a corner. Even if her sister is surprised, it doesn’t matter. Ivy and I can brave the media and go public with our relationship. I can tell my family, her family, the entire world that she’s the woman for me. I can hold her hand in public and call her mine.
Even if she’s worried about Margot, I know that this is a good thing.
Just me, and Ivy, and our love.
Or at least…that’s what I hope is going to happen.
The flight from Farcliff to Argyle is just over three hours. My home Kingdom is an island nation, just south of the Bahamas. As soon as we land, I glance at the palm trees and let a smile drift over my lips.
I can’t wait to show Ivy my home.
Leaning my head against the private jet’s window, I look at the tarmac and let out a si
gh. The flight crew flips the staircase down and nod at me as I disembark. A royal car is waiting to take me to the palace.
Inhaling the tropical evening air, my heart beats easier. Soon, I hope to show Ivy what Argyle is like. I hope to take her here and introduce her to my family, and show her all the sights that I grew up with.
It’s been five long years since I was here, and I feel like a brand-new person.
When we get to the palace, Theo, Cara, Beckett, and Dante are waiting for me in the formal reception room.
Dante wraps me in a tight hug, spinning me around in a circle. Beckett still looks oddly angry, and I avoid looking at Theo and Cara just yet.
“Easy,” I laugh as Dante sets me down. “You’ll break my back all over again.”
“From what I hear, you’re indestructible,” he grins. Dante is just as tall as I am, and has obviously spent the past five years in the gym. His biceps are as big as my thighs. He’s a couple of years younger than me, and always followed Beckett and me around when we were kids. Now, he looks like he’s grown into a man.
My brother claps me on the shoulder, and I do my best not to stumble forward.
Theo and Cara step forward. I haven’t seen the two of them in three months, and I wait for the assault of bitterness and emotion that always washes over me when I see them…
…but nothing happens.
The lightness in my heart stays, and my smile doesn’t slip.
Striding over to my brother Theo, I extend my hand. Theo looks surprised, but he grabs my hand and pulls me in for a hug.
“Thank you, Luca,” he says, his voice muffled against my shoulder.
“For what?”
“For understanding.” He glances at Cara, who smiles softly at him.
Now that I’m not clouded by anger, bitterness, and prescription opioids, I see the look they’re giving each other. Cara and Theo are in love.
How did I miss this?
They’re head-over-heels with each other.
Somehow, I twisted their relationship into something that was done to purposefully hurt me. I made their love about me. My pain. My accident. My heartbreak.
Knocked Up by the Broken Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 18