“Last time I checked, they had cell phone service in Virginia,” Hilary said while pouring creamer into her cup. “Regardless, he gets you all hot and bothered, then doesn’t call for three days. That’s pretty much the definition of douchey behavior.”
Hilary had a point, but there was so much she didn’t know. Annabelle hadn’t told her what she’d learned about the Chance brothers. It was important to keep their secret, even from her best friend. It wasn’t like Hilary wasn’t trustworthy—it just wasn’t her secret to tell. “I’m going to give him a chance to explain without making any assumptions.”
“That’s fine,” Hilary said, looking away as she sipped her drink. “I’m happy to make the assumptions for the both of us.”
Hilary was fiercely protective. That’s one of the many qualities that made her a great friend. “You know I love you, right?”
“You’d better,” she replied, winking.
As Hilary made her exit, she held the door open for Mrs. Dansbury to hurry inside. Annabelle was surprised by her disheveled appearance. Her normally pulled-back hair hung frazzled over her shoulders, and her shirt was wrinkled and untucked. “Are you all right, Mrs. Dansbury?”
She reached the bakery counter and fanned herself with her hand. “No, I’m not. I’ve made a terrible mistake, and I’m hoping you can help me.”
“I’m happy to help if I can.”
She plopped a large leather purse on the counter and fished through it. A moment later, she pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. “Tonight my boss is hosting a surprise birthday party for his wife,” she said, nervously adjusting her wide-rimmed glasses. “I was supposed to order the cake and I completely forgot.”
“That’s not a problem, Mrs. Dansbury. I have plenty of cakes here.” She pointed to two birthday cakes she had on display in the front window. “I made both this morning.”
“No, you don’t understand. His wife is a big fan of Cutthroat Cupcake. My boss wants the cake you made on the show. The cupcake tower with those sugary flowers and butterflies.”
Both the fondant flowers and butterflies had to be made by hand. The cake top, cupcakes, and all the design work took about four hours to complete. “When is the party?”
Mrs. Dansbury glanced at her watch, visibly shaking. “He said to have the cake delivered by seven forty-five.”
Sweat pearled on the back of Annabelle’s neck. She’d never completed her famous cupcake tower that fast. But Mrs. Dansbury was stuck, and she was the only person who could help. “Have someone come by the store at seven thirty. I’ll find a way to make it happen for you.”
The tension visibly released from her shoulders. “Oh, thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”
“I’m happy to help,” Annabelle said, walking her to the door. As soon as Mrs. Dansbury had exited, she flipped the Open sign to Closed and sent her cashier home. She’d have to close the bakery a half hour early if she had any hope of making the deadline. She rolled up the long sleeves of her V-neck T-shirt and hurried toward the kitchen.
Before she could get started, she needed to set the mood. There was only one option for an emergency like this: eighties music. She searched her iPod for the playlist labeled “cheesy pop music,” then inserted the MP3 player into the speakers. Seconds later, her hips were swaying to Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now.”
Next, she made a mental list of ingredients. Unlike some of her other recipes, she had this one memorized, because it had been requested so many times since she was on the show. At one point, she was making two towers a week for various parties and company meetings.
While the oven heated to 375 degrees, she measured and poured the ingredients into the large metal bowl of her KitchenAid stand mixer. As the beaters spun inside the machine, she retrieved the cupcake pans and inserted the individual liners.
By the time she had the first batch in the oven, she was out of breath. She’d completed the first half of the job ten minutes ahead of schedule. She waved her hand in front of her, creating a bit of breeze. It wasn’t enough to cool her down, so she slipped her long-sleeved shirt over her head, leaving only her pink tank top.
She tapped her fingers against her lips. There was something she was forgetting. Glancing around the room she tried to figure it out, then it hit her: Kaden was coming. In all the excitement, she’d totally forgotten. There was no way she could talk to him and complete this order on time. She would have to call him to see if he could come after eight o’clock.
As she reached for her cell phone in her back pocket, her elbow pushed against the flour canister just enough to send it sailing over the edge of the counter. It landed with a crash, filling the room with a cloud of white dust. She coughed, swatting away some of the powder. Without looking in the mirror, she had no doubt she was covered in it. “Way to go, Annabelle,” she said aloud.
She retrieved the broom and dustpan from the closet, going as fast as she could to clean up the floor. The rest of the mess could wait until she’d finished the order. The oven timer went off, and within moments, cupcakes were pulled out and new ones were put in. While the first batch was cooling, Annabelle prepared the chocolate–almond butter frosting.
Hours passed like minutes as Annabelle worked diligently. Before long, she was stacking her cupcakes on the tiers. There was an overwhelming sense of relief as she connected the handmade purple fondant flowers and butterflies to the exterior. The clock on the wall read a quarter past seven. She had done it, finishing the order with fifteen minutes to spare. Stepping back, she admired her work. She took pride in her designs, especially this one, because she was helping a friend in need.
The door buzzed while she was cleaning up. Mrs. Dansbury returned, wearing a bright red suit with her hair tied back in a bun. Two burly men stood behind her. As she paid and thanked her profusely, the men carried out the cake and put it into a white van. Annabelle followed Mrs. Dansbury outside. The cold night air made goose bumps pop up on her arms. The streets were empty except for a few couples and a woman walking a dog big enough to ride.
Annabelle waved until they had gone out of sight. She stood for a few more seconds, watching a young couple as they headed toward the restaurants up the street. The girl smiled up at the boy, and he responded by wrapping his arm around her. Annabelle wondered if she’d ever have that same kind of happiness with Kaden. Then it hit her—Kaden hadn’t shown up. She was supposed to call him to say she was running late, but she had forgotten after her big flour debacle. Had he stood her up? In all the months she had known him, he’d always called if he was running late. There had to be something wrong. She needed to check her phone to see if he’d left a message.
She went back inside, remembering to lock the door and set the alarm. Kaden would be so proud. Rushing into the kitchen, she nearly tripped over her own feet. Yeah, all she needed was to fall and break her leg, all in an effort to check her—
A loud smash whipped her around. A second later, her alarm went off, filling the air with shrieking bells. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly crept toward the front of the store. All the horror movies she’d watched throughout her life flashed in her mind. Was she the dumb female walking right into a dangerous situation? If someone was here, she hoped the alarm had scared them off.
Pressing her hand against the door, she pushed it open. The broken display window caught her attention. Her eyes searched the rest of the store, which she quickly determined was empty. She pressed the code into the alarm, and the bells silenced. Once she was in front of the window, she discovered a brick with a strange symbol painted on the side. Maybe a gang symbol?
But why would a gang throw a brick through her window? No, this was probably the work of some bored teenagers. It was too bad she’d never taken Kaden’s advice and installed a camera. It would’ve been nice to have someone arrested, or at least made them pay for the damage they had caused. She backed away from the shattered glass, hoping there was some evidence the police could use.
F
lashing lights and sirens blared—the alarm company must have alerted the police. An officer got out of the car. Through the broken window, he pointed his gun in her direction. Annabelle tensed when he called out, “Put your hands above your head.”
She did as he asked, surprised she didn’t recognize him. Most of the officers stopped in her bakery from time to time. He must be new to town. “This is my bakery, Officer. I live in the upstairs apartment.”
He didn’t move a muscle. “I’m going to need to see some identification.”
“If you let me put my hands down, I’ll unlock the door and give you whatever you need.” She smiled nervously, hoping to put him at ease.
He must have been satisfied with her answer, because he lowered his weapon. His head turned as he spoke into the police radio sitting on top of his shoulder. Within minutes, two more police cars showed up—both were officers she recognized. All three eventually came inside and took her statement. They took pictures of the window, placing the brick inside a clear evidence bag.
Without her being able to give a description, they weren’t optimistic that they could find the person who did this. They also said she was lucky she had her alarm system, because that’s probably what had scared them off. A cold shiver of warning ran up her spine as she imagined what the criminals might’ve planned to do once they were inside. It was obvious that she was in the bakery alone and it was after hours.
She was speaking to one of the officers when Kaden stormed through the door. “What the hell is this?”
Chapter Fourteen
What the fuck had happened here?
The front display window was shattered, with pieces of glass spread all over the floor. Annabelle was covered in a white powder he guessed was flour. She must’ve been baking when this happened. Anger swirled with fear in the pit of his stomach. “Bells, are you all right?”
“I’m okay, Kaden,” she said, visibly shaken by the incident. “The officers think they were scared off by the alarm.”
Kaden was pleased to learn she’d remembered to turn the damn thing on. Watching Annabelle squirm as she spoke with the police left an unsettled ache in his chest. He wanted to take her in his arms and keep her safe. That—and beat the shit out of the person who did this.
The FBI agents were probably monitoring him. No matter how bad he wanted to comfort her, it wasn’t worth putting her on their radar. “Do you know what they were after?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I heard the glass shatter, and then the alarm was triggered. They were gone before I made it to the front of the store and—”
“Wait one damn second. You heard the glass shatter and the alarm go off, and you decided the best thing to do was go see what happened?” He could barely think straight. How many times had they watched horror movies where the girl got killed for doing exactly that? “Are you out of your mind?”
“I can handle myself,” she said, planting her fists on her hips. “Besides, they were already gone. All they left was a brick with some weird symbol on it.”
Annabelle would never admit she was vulnerable. She was too proud and independent for that. Her fierceness had always turned him on, but in this particular situation, she had endangered herself by not waiting for police to arrive on the scene. “Symbol?”
“Yeah,” she said, pointing to a clear baggie resting on top of one of her table booths. “I thought it might be a gang symbol, but the police don’t recognize it. They took some pictures of it and emailed it to their gang unit to see if it looks familiar.”
The ache in his chest intensified. “Can I take a look?”
“Kaden,” she said, eyebrows furrowed like she was surprised he’d ask. “It’s probably just some teenagers pulling a prank. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not saying you should worry,” he said, heading toward the table. “I only want to take a look.” Kaden picked it up, nearly falling over when he saw the symbol embedded on the side of the brick. A white circle with a V over the top—his family emblem from his home planet. Panic snaked down his spine a second before a small gasp escaped his lips. No one in the FBI was aware of their crest. Only his brothers knew it, and neither would vandalize Annabelle’s bakery.
This left him with only one conclusion: the new visitors were trying to get their attention. Worse, they knew they could do it by going through her.
As he had feared, Annabelle was in danger.
His bond with her wasn’t his greatest threat. He had to speak with his brothers immediately. They’d have to come up with a plan for finding the visitor. But how could he explain all this to her? He couldn’t tell her the truth without revealing everything else. For now, he’d have to let her believe this was a simple prank.
Two of the cops continued gathering evidence. The one who had been writing the report approached them. “We should be done collecting what we need soon,” he said, handing Annabelle a sheet of paper. “Give this incident report to your insurance company. My number is listed on the back if they have any additional questions.”
Annabelle took the report from him, but her hand trembled. When she noticed Kaden was staring, she crossed her arms. “Is there anything else I should do?”
“I would suggest installing some cameras.” The officer spoke in a soft, soothing tone. Kaden guessed he had picked up on Annabelle’s nerves as well. “If possible, keep at least two employees here at a time. Criminals are less likely to act when you’re not alone.”
But she was alone.
If these new visitors were surveying the area, it was likely they knew that. Would they come back again? Kaden had to keep his distance from Annabelle. But was he putting her in harm’s way by following his plan?
“Thank you, Officer.” Kaden shook his hand. “We will implement all of your suggestions immediately.”
Kaden watched as Annabelle walked the officer to the door. When he was gone, she turned around to face him, and said, “We?”
There was a sharpness in her tone. She obviously wasn’t looking for any help in the situation. This was a woman who could handle herself. She had no idea how it turned him on. “We,” he repeated, purposely egging her on.
“And what is it you think we are going to do, exactly?” she said, challenging him.
Having her stay with him would be impossible. She was bound to find something he wouldn’t be able to explain. There was really only one option. “I’m moving into your apartment.”
No frigging way. Kaden didn’t get to make decisions for her. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She could handle her own problems, thank you very much. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she refused to give him a chance. Instead, she headed back into the bakery to retrieve the broom and dustpan. Returning to the room, she was surprised to see his face had turned a deep shade of red and his fists clenched at his sides. She ignored him as she swept pieces of glass into the dustpan.
A low growl broke the silence. “I understand your position—I really do—but this is about your safety.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I am safe. I’ve been here alone for years, and nothing like this has ever happened. I have no doubt that this was a one-time situation.”
“Really? You’re suggesting the phone calls, the guy you saw on the street over the weekend, and this,” he said, pointing toward the broken window, “are all simply coincidental?”
The way he pieced the events together made her feel like a fool. If all these things had happened to Hilary, she’d be the first one to assume she had a stalker. Did she have a stalker? Her hands were shaking as she rubbed them together. Perhaps Kaden staying with her for a few days wasn’t the worst idea. “No, you’re right. I’d be an idiot if I dismissed the possibility.”
“Great, I’ll go collect some things from my house and—”
There he went again, trying to control the situation. She would need to put an end to this quickly. If he was going to stay with her, it would be under her
terms. “Hold it, Tarzan. I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”
He crossed his arms over his muscular, well-defined chest. “What’s there to agree to? You need me. I’m here. End of story.”
“We need to establish some ground rules first.”
Kaden raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
She held up her index finger. “Number one, this is a short-term arrangement. If nothing happens over the next few days, you go home.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Is that it?”
Holding up two fingers to drive in her point, she said, “Number two, you sleep on the couch. Mr. Crisco can stay in the bedroom with me.”
“Okay. No problem.”
With three fingers held up, she said, “And number three, you steer clear of the bakery. I’ll have my new employees here, as well as customers, so your services will only be necessary in the evening.”
Kaden shook his head. “I can’t accept number three. I’d like to scan the area periodically to see if I notice anyone lingering around. I can’t do that if I’m up in your apartment.”
She let out a sigh. “Fine. You can hang out, but not the whole time. Agreed?” she asked, holding out her hand for him to shake.
“Agreed.” He clasped his hand around hers, sending a wave of heat all the way to her core. Letting go, he headed over to one of the officers. “I have to run over to my house. I shouldn’t be longer than thirty minutes. Would you mind keeping an officer here until I get back? I don’t want Annabelle to be alone.”
The cop nodded. “That won’t be a problem. One of my officers will stay behind. He’ll be in a squad car right outside.”
Kaden shook his hand. “Thank you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Annabelle grumbled.
Without acknowledging her, he said, “I’m going to go to my house to get some stuff. If anything happens while I’m gone, even if it’s just a strange noise, tell the officer. Then I want you to call me. I’ll keep my cell phone close.”
Under His Skin Page 8