Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  If she’d wear a chef’s coat as a habit instead of as a fluke, she wouldn’t have that problem. He’d seen her bent over her baked goods with her decorating tools, giving him the scoop as to how the frosting hit its target. Not that the results of her forgetfulness weren’t gratifying.

  “Dig in. There’s plenty more where this came from.” Cody motioned for everyone to grab a seat and have at the meal. “And Dr. Cohen, welcome to the bunch.”

  “It’s Aunt Tulip to all of you,” Tulip said, waving her arms in the air as if to banish the formality inherent in her title. “I’m just thrilled to be included. This spread looks magnificent. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had asparagus. It’s such a wonderful penis food.”

  Jules’ face turned a deeper purple than Cody’s champion beets. “I swear I can’t take you anywhere.”

  “Wait a minute, Jules,” Cody said, unable to let the topic remain unexplored. “I am a vegetable man. I need to know these things. Tell me more, Doc.”

  Judging by the animated expressions on the rest of Cody’s lunch guests’ faces, their curiosity was also piqued.

  Cody looked at Jules, hoping she’d give him the blessing to continue his inquiry.

  Using her middle finger, Jules repositioned her glasses on the bridge of her nose. And damn if she didn’t look way too hot in her new specs. But, she’d given him a sign all right. He’d be paying big time for encouraging Tulip.

  “Food figures in greatly to our overall sexual health,” Tulip said with a matter-of-fact professionalism fit more for a prime time documentary than Sunday brunch. “But most food good for sexual satisfaction is vegetarian.”

  “Nice career choice, genius,” Damian said and slapped Cody’s shoulder.

  Cody couldn’t help but smile, already liking what Tulip had to say.

  “There are many foods that we in the industry call penis foods that benefit everything penis-related, especially vegetables like celery and asparagus that have a phallic shape.” Tulip speared her fork through a piece of asparagus, using it as a visual aid.

  Cody squirmed, noticing the other men around the table did the same.

  Seeing Jules reach for her fork, Cody dropped his hands to his groin, turning them into a make-shift shield.

  Under pressure to perform, however, Tulip’s asparagus went limp.

  Putting it on her plate, she continued her lesson. “Now you boys do need to be careful consuming so much fried food as that can slow blood flow to your genitals.”

  “How about you pass the fried chicken, Aunt Tulip?” Although Jules used polite vernacular, her tone was anything but congenial.

  “That’s my cue, guys. I’m afraid our time is up, and we must end our conversation prematurely.” With a smug grin matching the mischief sparkling in her eyes, Tulip took a large chicken breast out of the bucket then passed the rest to Cody.

  “Your cue was a ways back,” Jules said, reaching for a basket of cornbread, “but as usual you didn’t take the hint.”

  Cody leaned from his seat and took a pitcher of sweet tea off the serving cart. He filled Jules’ glass before passing the pitcher to Tulip. Maybe a cool drink would be good for both of ‘em.

  Jules may not appreciate her aunt’s expertise, but Cody sure did. Now he had another reason, a totally unexpected one, for selling the diner and opening a fruit and vegetable market. He’d be hard-pressed to think of a better marketing gimmick than promoting his produce as aphrodisiacs.

  Later, when Jules’ wasn’t around and about to clobber him with her cornbread, he’d talk to Tulip about the idea.

  “So how’s your meal so far?” Cody’s mom made a rare appearance from beyond the café’s kitchen doors.

  “Hi, Midge.” Kat got up and greeted her with a warm hug. The two had been friends for years on account of their sons. “As always, you and Grams have outdone yourselves.”

  “Thank you.” Cody’s mom wiggled out of Kat’s grasp, squeezed Jules’ shoulder then retreated back into the kitchen.

  Even though her heart was huge, Midge Weiss wasn’t one for social fussing. She preferred staying in the diner’s kitchen, her comfort zone ever since she’d started cooking there at the age of ten. Although she had no intentions of retiring, she did say she’d like to slow down once Cody took over the diner’s daily operations.

  Thinking about running the diner turned Cody’s stomach away from his lunch plate. He had no plans to spend his future in The Lunchbox’s kitchen. Working his family’s diner was their vision of his future — not his. Since selling his home-grown fruits and vegetables at the roadside-stand he and his grandpa built, he’d wanted his own market.

  But there was no way he could work the fields, run a market and keep the diner going, especially now that his dad had left — again. God only knew where he’d gone and if and when he was coming back. He’d been gone two months this time, though, a new record. Bastard. When Cody needed him, that’s when he always seemed to disappear.

  Man, without his dad in the kitchen, he was in way over his Stetson-covered head, Cody thought.

  Once he found the perfect building, he had to sell The Lunchbox or abandon his market. He knew it was time to pursue his own dreams. And he had his business plan and financing ready to go. If only he could get his guts in place and just do it.

  But now he not only had his own dreams on the line and going nowhere, he had Jules’ dreams to protect. He may not have been able to protect himself from the Cruz family’s control, but he’d do whatever he had to do to keep Jules from being used like he’d been.

  And that included sticking it to pretty boy Jacques Ass.

  Catering Sienna’s wedding could be more disastrous than Cody dared to imagine.

  How could he and Jules both have exes from hell?

  At least they shared the sanity-draining enigmas.

  That should be a bonding experience, right?

  Feeling Jules’ fingers wrap around his, Cody returned his focus to lunch.

  “What’s wrong?” She squeezed his hand while coaxing him with her huge, dark eyes to reveal where his mind had wandered.

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” he said, returning her squeeze, all too aware of how well her touch soothed his concerns.

  “I don’t believe you, but now’s not the time to drag it out of you.” She let go of his hand and refilled her tea glass. “I won’t ruin your manly man image in front of the boys, but we’ll be talking later.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.” Cody raised his glass in a mocking salute to her sarcasm.

  “Too bad, Asshole.”

  A wicked smile formed across her lips. Lips damn perfect even after a meal and without being made-up.

  “I didn’t want to talk about penis food but you couldn’t be stopped.”

  She had him — nuts and all.

  He gave her an eat-shit grin and refocused his attention on his lunch guests. “So what’s on everyone’s agenda the rest of the day?”

  “We’re headed for the dance floor to work off this food and try out a new routine for our next show,” Zayne said, tossing his napkin onto his plate and patting his stomach as if that would discourage the fat he’d consumed from settling in.

  “We’ve only got three weeks before Season Two taping begins,” Roxy said, playing with her caramel-apple colored curls.

  “Our ratings were high enough to not only get another season but also a better time slot,” Kat said. “Who knew a bootscootin’ Dancing With the Stars would be such a hit. Business at the saloon is amazing. Lily and I just can’t keep up.”

  “No, we can’t,” Lily piped in. “And I’m telling you, I can’t get Roxy’s Raeve apparel onto the displays before they’re sold out on Audrey’s online store. It’s fantastic!”

  “So what about you, Jules dear,” Kat said, “tell us all about Sweet Destiny and Sienna’s wedding plans. I hear thanks to Maureen’s antics you’ve got unexpected company in your kitchen.”

  Jules looked at Roxy who had a twi
nge of remorse passing over her face. Roxy then shrugged her shoulders in a what-was-I-supposed-to-do way, more than likely having had to surrender the scoop to the all-knowing Moms.

  Like anyone could keep info from those two, Cody thought. If Roxy hadn’t told ‘em, The Neon Cowboy’s patrons would have spilled the news anyways. So no party foul on Roxy’s part, and Jules would know that just like Cody did.

  “I’ve had a bit of a setback with the Cruz events, but nothing I can’t handle,” Jules said, pushing her chair back from the table and taking a deep breath.

  Cody wanted to wrap his arms around her but knew the woman he admired wouldn’t appreciate his gesture. When challenged, Jules stood tall and formidable on her own fancy shoes.

  Given his relationship failure with Sienna, also a woman who put nothing in front of her career, Cody had no business competing for attention with Jules’ career aspirations. The odds of him losing were beyond likely.

  Why couldn’t he act on his decent mind, stop trying to win her affection and save himself the heartache? Why did the same qualities he found repulsive regarding Sienna endear him to Jules?

  Women.

  “Cody told us about Jacques,” Damian said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “I wish. Although I feel lucky just having all of you to unload on,” Jules said then giggled, a dash of unease flavoring her attempt at humor. “But Jacques’s mine for the take down. I owe him. And once I get through the wedding, he’ll get his just desserts.”

  “So speaking of desserts, how is your new dessert world coming along?” Kat asked. “Lily and I can’t wait to add your treats to the saloon’s menu.”

  “The bakery is great! And thank you for making room for me on your menu,” Jules said, enthusiasm refilling her voice. “Thanks to Damian and Audrey, Sweet Destiny’s going to look like a confectionary fantasy land. And I hope to make good on the fantasy-land taste part. It truly is exactly what I envisioned.”

  “We’ll have you good to go by the end of the week,” Damian said.

  “Really?!” Jules about came out of her chair. “Oh, that’s terrific! And great timing. I’d like to have my next meeting with the Cruz’s there. With all the display cases filled and store-front windows done, I should be able to dazzle them. Don’t you think that would be good, Cody?”

  “Yeah. You betchya, JuJu Bee,” Cody said, not having the heart to tell her how tough it was to impress those arrogant jerks.

  “I’ve got these one-bite, mini cupcakes I’m dying to try out on them and several dessert plates to show them too.”

  Cody sighed, wanting with everything in him for her efforts to pay off. She was so talented and would be hugely successful in Music City, with or without the Cruz’ influence.

  His stomach clenched into large bundles of pinched muscle.

  He couldn’t — no wouldn’t let them snuff out her entrepreneurial spirit.

  “You know, Jules, I could take Sweet Destiny online just like I did Raeve,” Audrey said. “Online bakery boutiques are big in New York, LA, and Miami. There’s no reason to leave Nashville out of the loop.”

  “Maybe. But let me get the reality version going first. Then we’ll see.” Jules stood up and gathered her bags.

  How one woman could possibly need so many bags blew Cody’s mind. Traveling light to Jules meant one huge shoulder bag and at least one tote. Most of the time, she carried two totes - one stuffed with bakery must-haves and one jam-packed with what she swore were personal necessities. She didn’t need yoga to define her arms and shoulders. Carrying that crap on a daily basis was more than enough dosha balancing — or whatever kind of balancing he’d heard her refer to.

  “Cody, you’re coming to the bakery later, right?” Jules settled one tote over her forearm, probably into the groove permanently indented there. “We’ve got lots to talk about.”

  “We do?” Cody feigned ignorance, not missing his buddies ‘you-are-so-whooped’ looks.

  They were so full of shit. He was not at her command.

  “What time do you want me there?”

  Zayne coughed, and Damian guffawed.

  Assholes.

  Chapter Five

  Jules studied the towering tiers of mini vanilla cupcakes she’d arranged on a silver tree-stand.

  Wow, she thought, circling her work table, taking-in every inch of the cupcakes and their fabulous stand.

  She’d been sooo right using the disco dust edible glitter to make her basil buttercream frosting and candied pine nuts beyond pop from each cupcake top.

  After spending the afternoon experimenting like this to create Sweet Destiny’s alternative to a traditional treat, a rocket-propelled creative surge shot through her veins.

  With the fancy buttercream and decorative trim, she’d made a party favor with panache. It was exactly like her favorite food critic Dannielle Kyrillos was always searching for — “a party in my mouth”.

  And nothing would start-out the Cruz’ wedding parties on a solid but different beat than cupcakes.

  Jules had been searching for a food-forward theme to carry throughout the Cruz nuptial events — something symbolic of Sweet Destiny’s sugary flare. A confectionary creation no one would forget. A contemporary and unique interpretation of a traditional dessert. And she’d found it in cupcakes.

  Using her mom’s vanilla & Grand Marnier recipe, as well as her own dark chocolate souffle and red-velvet varieties, coupled with her unique buttercreams and decorative texture-touches, Jules had created a delicious treat she planned to turn into take-home treasures. A sweet souvenir from the happy couple to each of their guests.

  Country music and cupcakes. A nice jingle that should make her cash register sing.

  At around one hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars per cupcake tree, and anywhere from two fifty to four dollars per cupcake ala carte, the bakery would make a bundle of dough.

  And like the bakeries she’d frequented in mid-town Manhattan, San Francisco and Beverly Hills, Jules had even added a chic cupcake bar to Sweet Destiny’s eat-in area.

  By using the Cruz events to showcase her cupcakes, the Nashville It-Crowd should be bellying up to her bar then booking additional events.

  Jules couldn’t wait to show Cody and Aunt Tulip her prototypes.

  But with Tulip busy touring the saloon with The Moms and Cody, and Cody not then due at the bakery for another forty minutes — more like an hour on Cody’s life clock — Jules had plenty of time to finish her samples.

  Nothing less than perfection would do. It never had for her and never would.

  She loaded her pastry tube with the cotton candy pink, basil buttercream and searched her tip sets for the end she wanted.

  Putting the tip in place, she rolled the bag to apply the necessary pressure then leaned in close to the first layer of cupcakes for the next tree and squeezed the tube into action.

  Feeling her satin cami fall away from her tummy, she realized she’d once more forgotten to throw on her chef’s coat. The coats were just too restricting. Her body needed to be free with her muses to romp around her kitchen.

  Not wanting to impede progress, she’d long ago given up on containing the frosting to the cupcakes. She’d be wearing her ingredients like usual.

  Who needed bling when there was buttercream to brighten your wardrobe?

  Hovering over her works in progress, reveling in their out-of-the-norm bliss, she covered the tops with ripples of pink buttercream followed by disco dust and the candied pine nuts. Nearing the completion of the first tier, she packed more frosting into the bag and re-secured the tip.

  She stretched out her cramped-up hands, rubbed her aching back then settled back into the job, making a mental note to give her bedtime yoga an additional fifteen minutes to relax all the kinks wreaking havoc.

  Aiming the bag of frosting at the edge of the next cupcake, she increased the pressure on the bag just enough to get a nice, smooth flow of the basil bliss swirling out the tip.

&nbs
p; “Hello? Is anyone in this Construction Zone Hell?”

  Hearing Jacques’s biting baritone, Jules’ hand clenched. Mistaking the bag for his head, she squeezed the shit out of it, spurting frosting across her work space.

  “I know you’re not working on those silly things for the Cruz events,” Jacques said, flipping his golden locks out of his haughty, hateful eyes. “Cupcakes are so yesterday. I haven’t made one since — what — high school home economics maybe?”

  “If only you were still my yesterday.” Jules tossed her pastry bag onto the work table. The thud of the bag hitting the stainless steel surface matched the ton of dread bottoming out in the depths of her stomach.

  “I’m sensing hostility here.” Jacques eyed the cupcake Jules had mutilated then wrinkled his nose as if he were looking in a grocery store baking case. “What the hell happened to that poor thing?”

  “You. You have that effect — on both food and people,” Jules said, not about to let him get the better of her in her own kitchen. “And you’re damn skippy there’s hostility between us.”

  “Damn skippy? How long did it take you after moving to Nashville to lose your class?” He said then snorted in the disgusting, piggish way he did when he laughed at something or someone he shouldn’t be.

  “Moving here was the best thing I’ve ever done,” Jules said, annoyed how Jacques always put himself on a pedestal higher than the rest of society. “These people are good, honest, hard-working and treat me well. Concepts you wouldn’t know anything about since your life revolves around your dick.”

  “I can’t help you couldn’t satisfy me as a man. Even with that crazy aunt of yours, you couldn’t keep up with my needs.”

  Degrading Jules’ sexual performance was one matter, but putting down Aunt Tulip sent her damn close to sticking her pastry tip right up Jacques’ arrogant ass - except she didn’t want to ruin the tip. It was worth much more than this ego-crazed maniac.

  “Don’t you dare talk bad about Tulip,” Jules hissed, her chest tightening in defense of the woman who’d given her everything, including the love her parents couldn’t. “She tried to warn me about you long before you screwed me over. If I’d have listened to her you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with me. So you’d better feel lucky you got what you got.”