Gut roiling at what his game had cost the Grimms in time and supplies, what it meant for their future, I wanted to tell him to take his contract and shove it where the oven don’t heat, but Lookie’s was desperate for the cash.
“Business is business,” Mom agreed. “And I can’t partner with a man I don’t trust, who isn’t upfront with his intentions, who intentionally hurts others to get his way. I’m sorry, but Lookie’s isn’t willing to do business with Leonard’s.”
“Mom?” I lunged at her, wrapping her in a hug. “I have never been prouder of you.”
“Millie, you’re working your poor hands to the bone.” She withdrew, rubbing my palms between hers. “I can’t watch it happen anymore. This was the last straw. Lookie’s was my dream, but you were the one laboring to make it come true.”
“I have never been treated—” Mr. Dross blustered.
“Can it.” Mom squared off against him. “And FYI, your office will get billed for all those orders you put on your nonexistent tab.” She wiggled her fingers. “Have a nice life.”
He spun on his heel and stomped out, catching our eyes before heading next door.
“It’s not too late to call him back.” I had to say it. This—losing Lookie’s—was huge.
“I meant what I said. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. I know I’ve been a terror lately, but I wanted this place to work. Not just for me, but for you too.” She sighed. “I wanted us to have a family legacy, something for the grandkids.”
Again with the grandkids… Somewhere Sue was eavesdropping and rolling her eyes for me.
“Having a grandmother who prioritizes the treatment of others over the bottom line is a better legacy.”
The two of us were huddled up making contingency plans when Daryl burst through the front door, excitement and guilt tugging his expression in opposite directions.
“Hey.” I went to greet him. “You’re early for lunch.”
“Dross offered us the contract,” he blurted.
Prepared for the announcement, I perched a smile on my lips. “Congratul—”
“No.” He gripped my shoulders and shook his head. “We turned him down. He’s been playing us. Not just us, either. I bumped into my friend this morning, the one I told you helped with the basket weaving on your cake.”
“You ordered a cake from him?” Mom squeaked.
We both ignored her.
“He said the Drosses—not their real name by the way—have pulled this stunt before,” he continued, “pitting struggling bakeries against each other to get free perks they can then resell through their storefront, which, by the way, isn’t Leonard’s.”
“We got scammed?” My knees got wobbly at that point, and I had to take a seat. “They were obnoxious moochers, but a lot of our big clients want big samples before buying the whole cow. I thought—”
“All their paperwork checked out.” Mom sank down beside me. “I called their office and verified.”
“Did you look up Leonard’s’s corporate number or use the one on Dross’s business card?”
Mom groaned and slumped over, resting her forehead on the table. “The card.”
“More fuel for the fire,” Daryl said. “Thanks to my friend’s tip, I dialed up the conclave and spoke to a marshal very interested in what we had to say about what was going down at Lookie’s today.”
“Uh huh. Was that marshal, by any chance, Decker Comeaux?” I didn’t need to hear his answer to know the truth. “You called my dad.”
“I did.” His grin was sheepish. “I figured he already thought the worst of me due to—” He made a vague hand gesture. “Had my story not checked out, he could have added it to his reasons why I’m not good enough to date his daughter.”
“He doesn’t know we’re thinking of dating.”
Not that it made the truth any less, well, true. Fathers were in the business of thinking no one was worthy of their daughters, after all.
Scuffing the toe of his boot on the tile, he winced. “I might have let it slip about how the Drosses gave their final order yesterday, when I came to pick you up for lunch.”
Sprinkles.
Guess this meant Dad would be questioning me both personally and professionally about this case.
“Thanks to that order, I had a window of opportunity. I told Mr. Comeaux where to pick Dross up and an estimate of when. He parked an unmarked car across the street and strolled in to scoop up the Drosses, who are actual siblings—Heidi and Martin Zvonek—then carted them off to the local conclave outpost for processing.”
“That’s good news at least.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s hope we’re the last bakeries they dupe.”
Mom uttered a miserable groan and thumped her head once more for good measure.
“Don’t feel bad.” I rubbed her back. “Bernadette fell for it too, remember? She can’t lord this over you.”
As if she were a puppet drawn upright on invisible strings, Mom straightened and beamed at me. “You know something? You’re right.”
I tipped back my head to see Daryl. “What will you do now?”
“Cut back on orders and move the operation to my home kitchen. Most folks want to order their cakes online these days anyway. The storefront costs a fortune to maintain, and the money isn’t there.” He glanced between us. “What does the future hold for Lookie’s?”
“The same,” I admitted. “I want a more relaxed schedule. I’m going to invest my savings into revamping my kitchen and work from home for a while until I figure out what my next move will be.”
“We won’t be neighbors anymore.” He took my hand, massaging the knuckles. “It’s the end of an era.”
“Or the start of a new one,” Mom murmured, glancing between us.
“Uh oh,” he and I said together.
“What are you cooking up over there?” I demanded to know.
“What if we went all-in,” she asked. “Together?” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “We could knock down the wall, expand Lookie’s into Grimm’s and—”
“I have to stop you there,” Daryl said politely. “Mom isn’t going to go for a takeover. Especially not after today.”
“Not a takeover,” she protested. “A partnership.”
As much as the idea of saving both businesses appealed to me… “I don’t think two sinking ships can bail out one another.”
“Grimm’s has the most square footage,” Daryl said thoughtfully. “What if we combined forces and saved one of the shops?”
“Of course you would pick yours,” she huffed. “Still, it is the bigger of the two. We didn’t need much with just a cookie menu.”
I got to my feet and moseyed up to Daryl. “Are you asking me to share a kitchen with you?”
“For starters,” he allowed. “This partnership has room for future expansion.”
“You think so, huh?” Butterflies brushed against my insides when his gaze zeroed in on my lips.
A thoughtful expression blanketed his features. “Do you still have the last gift I left you?”
Curious what he was up to, I trotted into my office and retrieved the ring then set it on his open palm.
Much to my delight, Daryl got down on one knee right there on the floor and gathered my hands in his. “Will you, Millicent Ann Marie Comeaux, go into business with me?”
I wiggled the appropriate digit, and he slid the ring, a fusion of salvaged materials, into place. “Mr. Grimm, I would be delighted.”
After all, this was just us practicing what came naturally on a larger scale. Taking the best from each of us—his cakes and my cookies—and combining them into a cohesive whole packaged behind a new storefront.
“Lookie’s Designs?” Mom offered, a hopeful note in her voice. “It’s the best of both worlds.”
“Our new venture deserves a new name.” Eyeballing my new ring, I hummed. “How about Fairy Tale Creations?”
Daryl appeared to mull over the idea. “Depends on if the fairy tale part comes from
where I slayed the dragon and saved the princess.”
“The princess had already slayed the dragon on her own.” I patted his cheek. After all, Mom had turned down Mr. Dross’s offer first. “But she did appreciate the backup.”
“We’ll still have to persuade Mom,” he cautioned me. “She may not want to exchange her monarchy for a democracy.”
“Good point.” My own mom still appeared conflicted over embracing her soon-to-be former nemesis, so I sweetened the pot. “Make you a deal. You lay the groundwork with Bernadette, and we’ll let you take full credit for the idea.”
“Lookie’s has three months until our lease expires.” A stubborn glint lit her eyes with purpose, and she got to her feet. “Someone’s got to spearhead the merger if we’re not going to renew.” She smoothed back her hair from her face. “I’m going over there to talk to Bernadette. I will force her to see reason.”
“Force, as in the way two opposing thunderstorms clashing birth a tornado,” I whispered to Daryl, who chuckled and wrapped his arm around me. Louder, I said, “Go get ’er, Mom.”
“Is it wise to encourage her?” He asked in a low voice near my ear.
“Probably not,” I admitted. The bell over the door tinkled as she exited. “But I was hoping to get you alone.”
His eyes twinkled. “Oh?”
“Oh yes.” I speared my fingers through his hair and brought his head down for our first kiss. His lips tasted of vanilla and sugar, and he smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. I nibbled the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a sigh to meet his glazed eyes. “That was…”
“Magical.”
“Yes.” I smiled when he stole a second kiss and then a third. “That.”
“That’s how fairy tales work, isn’t it?” he murmured against my lips. “I’m asking for brand awareness purposes.”
“Yep.” Linking my arms behind his head, I sank into him, dazed and warm and full of precious hope for the future for us and our moms. “And they all lived happily ever after.”
Author’s Note:
My spin on Rumpelstiltskin stems from two things. For one thing, I was watching Food Network. (I love the competition specials!) I can totally sympathize with the crazy deadlines each show gives the competitors for the completion of a masterpiece. The fun of baking with the motivation of a ticking clock? It seemed like a great recipe for fun to me.
And secondly, I had to pick which fairy tale fit that mold best. I chose Rumpelstiltskin because the stakes get raised in that story until it’s life or death. That was a good fit for my struggling bakery owners. The loss of their livelihoods might not have been fatal, but the possibility was devastating all the same.
With that in mind, I hope you enjoyed “The Bakers Grimm.”
Promise the Moon
Gemini, Book 4
Promise the Moon Blurb
Gemini, Book 4
War is a constant threat on Dell Preston's horizon. As beta of the Lorimar pack, her job is to maintain the peace on the new border between Faerie and Earth at all costs. Even if that means playing nice with her ex, Isaac, the fae who savaged her wolf's soul, and Enzo Garza, the flirty witch who ought to be focused on building up their magical defenses instead of tearing down the walls around Dell's heart.
Butler, Tennessee is a pinprick on the map with a diverse population of supernaturals. It's also chockful of humans who are unaware of the magical rift bruising the sky or the otherworldly insurgents raining down into their zipcode.
A local fae's disappearance catches Dell's attention, but she dismisses it as an isolated event. Until it happens again. Unable to ignore the strange happenings in her town, she begins an investigation that uncovers so much more than a simple rash of kidnappings.
Now Dell finds herself at the sharp end of a pointed ultimatum. Find the missing and return them to their families or get ready for prime time. Botch this job, and forget coming soon. The war will become tomorrow's featured attraction instead.
Chapter 1
Saliva pooled in my mouth as a whiff of pungent herbs and musky sweat hit my nose. I drew air over my tongue, tasting rosemary and brine. I love when dinner comes pre-seasoned. Licking my chops, I crept through the underbrush on my belly. Burs knotted in my fur. Those would be fun to comb out later. Not. Limbs raked down my pelt, their gnarly bark clutching at me, asking me to reconsider. Not gonna happen.
Betas don’t stand on the sidelines. We rush headlong into the fray with our teeth bared and battle cries rattling our throats. So what if I only had three hours of sleep in my tank? That’s what coffee was for, right? Besides, our pack was down to three females. Someone had to show the boys how it was done.
A growl started in my gut and rumbled through my chest. My wolf didn’t like when human thoughts disrupted our hunting time, so I sank into her consciousness a fraction more and gave her free rein to take down our prey.
A squat blob of grayish, jiggling flesh toddled from tree to tree, glee written on its pudgy face as it pissed on our markers, claiming our territory as its own. Dukas resembled globs of animated cellulite, their skin gray and iridescent like spandex. Looking at this one made me thankful for my high metabolism, otherwise I might have regretted the cupcakes I ate for breakfast. Almost. Okay, no. That’s a lie. I never regret cupcakes.
The vibration in my chest rose higher, and the trespasser flicked an unconcerned glance over his shoulder. His citrine eyes were reflective. His teeth, stained with plaque and rounded like small hills, bared in a welcoming grin.
“What have we here?” His green tongue swiped across his swollen lips. “You’re not just a wolf, are you? No. Not just a wolf. I smell magic on your fur.”
I padded forward to get free of the tangling brambles and entered the glade where he stood.
“What? Don’t like me watering the plants? You can’t very well lift your leg, can you? Don’t have the right bits for hitting a bull’s-eye.” His snicker sent his fat rolls bouncing. “These woods are mine now. Best you scamper along before I decide I’m hungry enough not to care if I shite fur for a week.”
Lowering my head, I flattened my ears and peeled my lips away from my teeth. The growl roiling in my throat spilled out of my mouth, and the duka shook off his nub and yanked his pants up past his hips.
“There’s a whole world out there.” He waved an arm to indicate the dense forest at my back. “No need for you to die over this patch of dirt.”
The laugh I intended came out as a wolfish chuff. He was right. There was a whole world out there. One that belonged to us. This fae reeked of cut grass and bruised roses, damp loam and petrichor. He stank of Faerie. That meant he was trespassing on our world. These days we prosecute trespassers to the fullest extent of the law.
A quiver twitched in my jaw, and drool slid through my teeth where it stringed from my chin.
“Suit yourself.” Waving me forward with a thick arm sent dense ripples throughout his entire body. “Come on then. I don’t have all night.”
Poor guy. He didn’t get it. Wargs are pack animals. We don’t hunt alone. Attempting to take down bulky, dangerous prey solo was a good way to get yourself killed. Some nights I skirted the line, sure, but those risks were mine to take for the safety of the pack. I didn’t have a death wish. So while I might be out in front, providing the flash, the bang was closing in on the duka from all sides.
“Let the new recruits handle this one, Dell,” Zed coaxed, his words vibrating through my head. “They need to get their feet wet, and dukas put up a good fight.”
“The newbies can watch and learn this round.” The hum of agreement from our pack mates tickled the back of my mind. “This is my Friday.” I was out of rotation for the next two days. “You can pop their cherries over the weekend.”
The acrid tang of Zed’s concern spiced the air.
I angled my nose upwind and pretended I hadn’t noticed my best friend attempting to step between me and what he viewed as my self-destructive tendencies.
“Are
you two done bumping your gums yet?” The pack bond hummed with Haden’s frustration. “I have a date in an hour, and I’ll need to shower after this.”
The intrusion of human voices into my too-human thoughts provoked my wolf into a snarl. Or maybe it was the mention of dating that lit her fuse in a grim reminder that one day the pressure behind our ribs, the dull ache of each heartbeat its own countdown, would go boom. Tick-tock, baby.
Only the strongest wargs outlived their mates. Mine wasn’t dead. He just didn’t want more than the taste he’d had of me. Too bad I was still ravenous for his touch, the hunger so deep it gnawed on my bones.
“You know the drill,” I projected to the pack, skipping over the rookies, forcing my head back into the game. “Don’t kill him unless he breaches the city limits. Herd him toward the rift if you can.”
Few refugees could go back the way they came. They fell to Earth through a jagged gash in the sky’s underbelly that had been spackled over with glamour to prevent human eyes from beholding the wound bleeding fae into our world. They splash landed in Watauga Lake, and some of them drowned. Most of those who didn’t lacked the means or the magic to zip back to their homeland. Even more spat that they would rather die than return. What that said about Faerie, I didn’t know. Except it hardened my resolve that the fae wouldn’t get a toehold in this world. Well, not one bigger than they already had.
The human in me receded, and with her, the constant ache behind my breastbone. The wolf mourned our loss, too, but she was better at concealing weakness than me. Though Zed’s protective behavior had me questioning the quality of her and my acting skills.
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