He felt his gut tighten. “I don’t believe you.”
She lifted a shoulder. “We’ll just tell everyone we talked about it, decided to be friendly coworkers, that everything is fine and no one has to worry or wonder about anything.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m wondering, Whitney.”
She shook her head. “You’re not. Not really. Not if you thought about it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He felt the back of his neck tightening with frustration. He really hated this uptight, cool side of her. Clearly she’d been perfecting this persona or whatever the fuck it was over the past ten years because it was pretty damned solid. Even when he was saying things about bending over her desk or fucking her on the conference room table. She was just facing it all. And still saying no.
“It means that the story hasn’t changed. This is just chapter two.”
He scowled. “What?”
“This company, Hot Cakes, has always been my priority,” she said. She pulled in a deep breath. “It still is. Now even more than ever. Now I have a chance to really be a part of it in a way I haven’t before. I’m not going to do anything that would keep me from showing my family that they were wrong to not put me in charge a long time ago.”
Frustration slammed into him. Fuck this company. That was his first reaction. He was happy to be an owner now but—he had to stop even that train of thought. There was only one reason he was an owner. Aiden had asked him to be.
Aiden Anderson was his best friend. Had been since kindergarten. Aiden had wanted to come back to Appleby to be with Zoe and buying the factory had been a great investment and a way to save the town. That was right up Aiden’s alley. Cam was with Aiden on anything his friend wanted to do.
It was a definite perk that this company had been the reason Whitney had dumped him and he now had the chance to build it up and show everyone that the minute a McCaffery got involved was the minute things got really good. But at the time Aiden had wanted to buy the company, Cam had not had a single thought about returning to Appleby on any kind of permanent basis.
That had changed over the past couple of months as he’d been home more helping the guys get the company going in the new direction. He’d loved seeing his family more. He’d loved being back in his hometown. He’d loved seeing his friends and partners excited about their new endeavor. And yeah, he’d loved being around Whitney again.
But any happiness about owning a chunk of Hot Cakes was much less about the company itself and a lot more about lifting a middle finger to the Lancasters who hadn’t thought he was good enough for Whitney.
Maybe a bit of a finger to Whitney too, since she’d gone along with that.
“And you think that being with me would jeopardize you being more involved with the company?”
“There’s that risk,” she said. “If we try dating again and it doesn’t work out, there is no guarantee that we’ll both be fine and be able to be friends and it will have no effect on the company.”
“And you’re not willing to take a chance?”
She crossed her arms. “No.” She said it with her eyes on his, no hesitation, not even a blink.
“And what if one of us isn’t okay with us not trying it and keeps wanting to and makes everything uncomfortable?” he asked.
“Well, I would hope the maturity we’ve both found over the past ten years would keep that from happening.”
Yeah, that was probably how maturity worked.
He’d definitely done some growing up. He hadn’t punched anyone in the face in years. He punched them in the face metaphorically now. In court. But that didn’t happen as often as he’d like. One thing that came with their company’s increased wealth and power had been a decrease in the number of people willing to tangle with them. He hadn’t had a really good fight in a while.
Grant and Josie had gotten married a month ago so that she could have her gall bladder taken out and be covered on Grant’s health insurance. Cam had been hoping the insurance company would fight him on that.
They hadn’t. And he’d been annoyed.
He wasn’t sure where his contrariness and love of a good fight came from but most people said he got it from his grandmother. The one who had held a grudge against Whitney’s grandmother for half a century. That seemed to add up.
So he wasn’t quite as inclined to think that he was grown up enough to just let this go.
He wanted to date his ex-girlfriend.
His hot, intelligent, creative, buttoned-up, cool and composed ex-girlfriend.
Yeah, that buttoned-up, cool, and composed bit was part of it. That wasn’t the Whitney he remembered. The fact that he couldn’t really rattle her was also absolutely part of it. He’d always been able to rattle her—in really good ways—before.
Maybe he was bored.
Maybe he was immature.
Maybe he was still in love with her.
But which of those this was, was exactly what he wanted to figure out.
“Okay,” he said, he turned and started for her office door.
“Wait,” she called after him.
He glanced back.
“Okay?” She frowned. “That’s it?”
He shrugged. “For now.”
That made her look worried.
Good.
He stopped in her doorway.
“For now?” she repeated.
“Yeah.”
“So… you’re not actually going to drop it?”
He gave her a slow grin. “Do you remember the last time you broke up with me?”
She definitely looked worried now. “Yes.”
She probably wasn’t thinking about him getting drunk and in a fight with her brother. Or the week of incessant phone calls. Or him getting drunk and in a fight with fucking Carter Jackson when he said he couldn’t wait to take Whitney out. Or even how he’d broken her window by throwing a rock through it. He’d only meant to get her attention but he’d picked a rock that was too big. And he’d probably thrown in too hard.
Okay, he’d clearly thrown it too hard.
“You are not going to do that again,” she said firmly. But she was nervous. For sure.
Yeah, she was thinking about how he’d kidnapped her.
It had only been for twelve hours and no one had even known she was gone. But it had been a kidnapping by the strictest definition, he supposed.
“I don’t really drop things easily. As you know.”
She sighed. “Come on, Cam.”
“A few dates. That’s all I want. I’m not proposing. I’m not asking to move in. We don’t have to even let anyone know we’re trying until we figure it out. All I want is a chance to see how things go. It can just be between the two of us.”
She just looked at him, saying nothing, looking confused and concerned. Finally she shook her head. “Hot Cakes is too important. To both of us.”
Now, see, that pissed him off.
It was a total flashback to the past. She’d chosen Hot Cakes over him before.
And when he got pissed, he wanted to dig in, wanted to fight, wanted to win.
He felt the surge of anticipation that he always got when he heard the words, “We’re going to court.”
He didn’t punch people anymore. He wore them down with excellent arguments and being fucking right.
He gave her a big grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the dessert auction.”
Her eyes got round. Clearly, him grinning also made her nervous.
Good.
His gaze landed on the red dress draped over the back of the chair in front of her desk. He crossed to it in four strides, swept it up, and then headed for the door.
“Hey!”
“You don’t need this until the night of our first date,” he told her.
He left her standing behind her perfectly neat and organized, boring as fuck, corporate desk in her damned gray pencil skirt, looking dazed.
3
“What do llamas have to do with
cake?” Whitney turned to Piper as the other woman came up next to her. “Nothing,” Whitney answered her own question. “That’s what. Llamas have nothing to do with cake.”
“I think those are actually alpacas,” Piper said, looking toward the pen where the petting zoo was set up about fifty feet from the stage where the baking competition was about to begin.
Whitney felt her eyes widen. “That is not helpful.”
Piper laughed, then looked at Whitney’s face closer. She frowned. “You okay?”
Whitney took a deep breath—got a lungful of alpaca-scented air—and shook her head. “No, I am not okay.” She turned her attention back to the stage that had been constructed four days ago in the center of the Appleby town square.
“Why not?” Piper looked around. “Everything seems great. Everyone is having so much fun.”
Whitney sighed. “I have a baking competition happening on an outdoor stage as the temperature is inching past ninety. There are bugs out here, the butter and cream cheese are melting, and I have no idea if our release forms cover if someone gets diarrhea from eating desserts made with eggs and cream that have been sitting out in ninety-two-degree weather.”
Piper’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“And there are not just llamas—or alpacas or whatever—in a petting zoo stinking the place up, but there are also goats, a potbellied pig, a miniature cow, and an emu.”
Piper nodded. “I saw the emu.”
“I didn’t even know the Ryan boys had an emu,” Whitney said. Drew Ryan and his brothers ran the alpaca farm outside of Appleby. Apparently, they had more than alpacas.
“Dave is cute.”
“Dave?” Whitney asked.
“The emu’s name is Dave,” Piper said.
Of course it was. “I never should have let Oliver handle the petting zoo details,” Whitney said, shaking her head. “But I was so busy with coordinating the baking competition and I was so happy that he’d let go of the idea of the Ferris wheel and actual circus tent that I figured a petting zoo would be harmless.”
Piper nodded. “Well, in Oliver’s defense, he’s never put in charge of details. Of any kind. He probably didn’t know what to do. He’s not really the detail guy.”
Piper would know. She was Oliver’s executive assistant. Piper was actually the executive assistant to all five of the partners in Fluke, Inc., but it had taken Whitney only a few weeks around her new bosses to figure out that, while they all needed Piper, Oliver was the main reason for Piper’s job. Ollie was… a dreamer. He was the visionary of the company, the big ideas guy. He was brilliant and creative and practically a genius. But he was also not into things like schedules and plans and rules.
“I should have known when he was so disappointed that we couldn’t get actual acrobats to perform,” Whitney said.
Piper just shrugged. “You really should have. Never put Ollie in charge of something. Everything should go through Grant or Aiden,” she said, naming the CFO and CEO of the company. “Or me,” she said with a smile.
Piper really did handle Oliver. He listened to her in a way he didn’t to anyone else. Piper had a way of communicating with him that seemed almost magical. She could anticipate most of his thoughts and needs. And Oliver could be hard to keep focused unless Piper was involved. She could absolutely get and hold his attention. It was fascinating.
Whitney blew out a breath. “That doesn’t make this better now. Why didn’t you stop him from having goats here?”
They were having a baking contest. On a stage. In the middle of the town square. Three handsome men were going to make three different desserts, cooking-show style, then the final judge was going to choose the winner. That winning recipe would become Hot Cakes’ newest product.
This was Whitney’s first big project for Hot Cakes since she’d gotten new bosses. The first big project she’d pitched to someone other than a family member. Ever.
The first big project that someone had said, “Wow. Yes. Let’s do that.” Ever.
And now she felt like she was going to throw up.
Hot Cakes had never added a new product. The products that made the company millions of dollars every year had been the same for over fifty years. But now with new owners it was the perfect time to launch something fresh.
Or so Whitney had told Aiden, Grant, Ollie, Dax, and Cam during her pitch last month.
And they’d bought it. They loved the idea. They thought it was brilliant. Well, four of them had anyway. Cam had seemed… determined to make her squirm.
She shifted her weight and shot a glance in his direction. He was standing off to the side of the stage with Ollie and one of the Hot Cakes employees, Max.
This was a terrible idea.
Cam had been making her squirm since he’d gotten back to Appleby and walked into that meeting last month and then volunteered himself as one of the bakers for this event.
But that had been nothing compared to the jumpy, jittery heat that had been plaguing her since last night and their little showdown in her office.
He wanted to date her? As in really date her? What? That made no sense.
Except that everything he’d laid out made a lot of sense.
Anyone who knew anything about their history—basically his four best friends and his entire family—would be wondering how things stood between them.
The only reason her family wasn’t wondering was because all of them except Didi were now living in Dallas where their new company was based. Didi’s dementia made it so that she would likely be unaware of Cam’s involvement in Hot Cakes, and even if she did hear his name in connection, it would surely be difficult for her to put him together with Whitney’s boyfriend from a decade ago.
But, yes, everyone who was aware of the fact that Cam now owned part of Hot Cakes and therefore worked with Whitney, would likely wonder how that was going.
Couldn’t they just be friends?
Just then he tipped his head back and laughed at something Max had said and her stomach clenched. Hard.
No, they probably couldn’t just be friends.
Not when she wanted to jump into his arms, wrap her arms and legs around him, and kiss him until he was squeezing her ass and groaning her name. Like she had done probably a hundred times in the past.
Ugh.
It had already been difficult to keep her composure around him, but now she knew he wanted her too. How was she supposed to ignore that? How was she supposed to walk into the conference room for a meeting and not immediately flush or stammer or trip over her feet?
Damn him for stirring all of that up. She wanted to be composed, totally professional, brilliant and organized and impressive and capable, so that the guys would offer her a partnership. Or so they would at least say yes when she asked to buy in.
But now she was going to have to deal with personal feelings for Cam the whole time? The composed part was out the window, probably. And if she couldn’t handle working with him, why would the guys think she was partner material?
On top of that, she couldn’t quite shake the idea that Cam had done it on purpose. Was he testing her? Maybe not to fire her. She believed his sincerity when he said he wanted her right there watching him and his friends make her family’s company into a huge success. But maybe he was testing to see just how not over him she was and if he could get her to admit that she’d been wrong to let him go.
Well, the thing about that was… she hadn’t been wrong.
He’d had an amazing college football career. He had a law degree. He’d met three of his four best friends who would be in his life forever. He was a freaking millionaire.
So, no, she hadn’t been wrong to “let him go”… or force him to go. However he wanted to look at it. It had been the right thing and she wasn’t sorry.
Did she miss him? Had she failed to find another guy who came even close to making her feel the way Cam had even as a teenager? Sure.
But she’d done the right thing for him.
“D
o you believe me?”
She focused on Piper again. She’d forgotten the other woman. “Oh. Um...” She glanced around.
She was in the shade and still sweating as the aroma of alpacas—and a pot-bellied pig, a bunch of goats, and an emu—drifted over the crowd that had gathered. And an hour-long dessert date with her ex-boyfriend, who she was still at least semi in love with, was about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
Nope. Not okay.
“I have alpacas at a baking event,” Whitney said.
Piper nodded. “Yeah, and I told you that it wasn’t Ollie’s fault. But I don’t think you heard me.”
“It’s not Ollie’s fault?” Whitney looked over at the petting zoo.
That was such an Oliver thing. It was his partners, and friends who honed Ollie’s ideas into manageable, doable proposals. For instance, Ollie would have said, Let’s have a petting zoo! and someone else would have said, Or we could have someone make balloon animals. Because balloons do go with cake. Whereas farm animals don’t so much. And that way we don’t have to deal with the smell.
“Then who’s fault is it?” Whitney asked as Piper chewed on her bottom lip.
“The alpacas are not a terrible idea,” Piper said instead of answering directly. “We wanted to make this an event that would encourage people to come and get involved. The more activities and the more fun for people of all ages, the better.”
Whitney regarded the other woman.
“So I have barnyard animals oinking and snorting in a pen fifty feet from the stage where we’re going to be producing what we hope to be the biggest Hot Cakes product ever because someone thought that would draw more people down here?” Whitney asked.
“Alpacas kind of make this purring sound, actually. It’s kind of like humming,” Piper said.
Whitney narrowed her eyes. “Piper.”
She’d really thought Piper was the one person immune to Ollie’s craziness.
In fairness, even Whitney had initially thought Ollie’s idea to literally turn this whole thing into a circus was funny and creative. But then she’d thought about how much liability insurance would cost for acrobats.
Semi-Sweet On You: Hot Cakes Series Page 4