by Kira Archer
“Who?” Jared asked.
“The girl from the train station, the cupcake truck.”
“The one who shoved gelato up your nose? What the hell is she doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
He cranked the wheel and parked his car against the curb behind the truck. Time to go see what the girl he wanted was doing in what he hoped would soon be his building.
Chapter Two
Natalie had nearly made it all the way into the spot when a buzzing insect flew through her window and landed on her cheek. The damn thing stung her mid-swat. She yelped and her foot jumped on the gas. The truck shot backward and abruptly stopped with a sickening crunch. Boxes and canisters toppled from a shelf just behind the driver’s seat, a jar of chocolate sprinkles pinging off her head.
“Crap,” she muttered, her eyes watering from the throbbing pain in her cheek and head. She’d have to re-alphabetize everything again. That always took forever. A shouted curse had her stomach lurching into her throat.
She glanced in her mirror at what she’d hit. “Double crap.” She sighed. A pretty silver Prius that hadn’t been there pre-bee was now lodged firmly up her truck’s tail pipe.
And things had been going so well.
Nat put the truck into drive and pulled forward a little, cringing at the squeal of metal as her truck pulled away. She climbed out, her hand over her smarting cheek, and went to face the seriously pissed driver.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“What the hell—”
She and Gelato stopped. Natalie stared at him, her stomach bottoming out. If she hadn’t already known she was the unluckiest person on the planet, that moment would have clued her in. She’d just rammed into the car of the gorgeous gelato guy she’d been drooling over for weeks. The one she’d tried to kill by brain freeze just a few hours earlier. And now she was standing there, holding her bee-stung face, apologizing for crashing into what looked like a brand new car. Not that she’d know. The newest model she’d ever driven was at least a decade older than her.
She took a deep breath. So much for her fantasy of them hooking up one warm, sultry night and finding a few other uses for the gourmet ice cream he seemed to love so much. Time to start begging forgiveness so he didn’t report her. All those years building up her cupcake business, unofficially catering out of her home kitchen while she saved up enough for a truck. Not to mention the insane process she had to go through to obtain all the licenses and permits needed to run the thing… The last thing she wanted was all that hard work evaporating into thin air because of a damn bee.
He hadn’t said a word yet. That didn’t bode well.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I know it was a tight fit but I swear I was being careful and then this stupid bee flew in my window and stung my face and it startled me and—”
He blinked his striking blue eyes and seemed to reanimate. “You’re hurt,” he said, his voice gruff, but not the angry shout she’d heard a moment ago.
“No, really I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Your face is red. You aren’t allergic, are you?”
Natalie shook her head. “Not that I know of. I’ve never been stung before.”
His full lips pulled up in a half grin and he stepped closer, gently removing her hand so he could inspect her cheek. “Well, you picked a hell of a spot for your first time.”
Well now, that comment just sparked all kinds of naughty thoughts, didn’t it? She opened her mouth to shoot back some witty innuendo but hissed instead when he gently probed her cheek.
He squinted in sympathy when she winced. “Hold on,” he murmured, one hand gently cradling her uninjured cheek. “The stinger is still inside.”
He pinched at her cheek and pulled away the stinger, holding it out on his finger for her to see.
“Ridiculous that something that small can hurt so badly,” she muttered.
“Well at least you have the satisfaction of knowing the little bastard is dead.”
Nat laughed but stopped when the movement pulled at her cheek.
He blew the stinger off his finger. “Do you have anything cold in there?” he asked, jerking his head at her truck.
“Yes, but…”
He took her hand, his fingers holding hers loosely enough that she could pull away if she wanted. Fat chance. It was all she could do to keep from threading her fingers through his and pledging her undying love. And yes, she knew exactly how ridiculous that sounded. She’d definitely been watching too many romantic comedies. Gina, who was standing stock-still with her mouth hanging open next to some guy Nat didn’t know, had been giving her hell about it for months. But after getting dumped by her last boyfriend, Nat hadn’t been interested in spending her nights with anyone but Chris Pine and Ryan Gosling.
The heat emanating from where her hand was being cradled by a man who’d rival any Hollywood heartthrob was making her rethink her opinion on the male species. Maybe she should start listening to her friend and spend a little time on some real-life romance. Not that someone like her Gelato Man would ever want a girl like her. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the feel of his skin against hers while it lasted. Even if it was only their hands that ever touched.
Gelato pulled her around to the back of her truck and Nat’s heartbeat kicked up a few notches. When he opened the door and guided her inside, she damn near hyperventilated. She’d had a daydream while she’d wandered on her walk that day that had started like this, and ended with him laying her on the small counter and opening the freezer door and…
“Ice?” he asked.
“Oh, no. But I have…” She stopped, mortified at exposing the dirty little secret in her freezer. The blood rushing to her face made her cheek throb in time to her heartbeat. Ah hell.
“Here,” she said, reaching inside the tiny freezer and pulling out a small container of chocolate gelato.
His eyebrow cocked up a notch, his lips twitching.
She shrugged. “It looked good earlier.”
He burst out laughing, took the container, and directed her to a small stool. “Have a seat.”
She sat, releasing a tremulous laugh. She seriously needed to calm the hell down.
She was not the kind of woman who went totally stupid over some cute guy. Then again, how many women had their dream man literally kneeling at their feet? With chocolate ice cream, no less?
The man in question scooted a little closer. When he nudged her legs slightly apart so he could reach her face, her heart pounded so loud she was sure he could hear it. He carefully laid the cool container against her cheek and a small sigh of relief escaped her. He wasn’t quite fulfilling her fantasy, but the reality was pretty damn fabulous, nonetheless.
The title track from Mamma Mia blared from the direction of his jeans and he reached into his pocket and silenced it. “My mom,” he muttered.
“Mamma Mia?”
He shrugged, his grin damn near stopping her heart. “I like the movie. It’s a total classic.”
He distracted her from the utter cuteness that was that sentence when he brushed her hair away from her cheek and adjusted the container. “Does that feel better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“My pleasure. My name is Eric, by the way. Eric Schneider.”
“Natalie Moran.”
His lips quirked up in a little grin. “Pleased to meet you, Natalie.”
Natalie was fairly certain her blushing cheeks were melting the gelato in his hand and made a huge effort to get herself under control. She’d never gone so completely daft over a guy before and she wasn’t proud of herself for doing it now. But with him kneeling at her feet, smelling faintly of mint and chocolate, his blueberry-colored eyes level with hers, though she was seated, she was frankly proud she hadn’t keeled over in a puddle of hormones.
Sweet Lord, but the man was delicious.
A beep from her watch yanked her back into reality and she reluctantly pulled away from him.
“Thank you so much for helping, but I really have to go. I’m late for an appointment.”
Eric glanced down at his watch. “I am too, actually.” He stood, his head nearly brushing the roof of the truck, and pulled her to her feet. “This doesn’t look like it’s swelling too badly. I think you’ll be all right. Might want to get some ice on it when you get home.”
“It feels much better, thank you.”
They turned to find Gina and Random Dude staring at them with twin expressions of shocked horror.
“What?” Nat asked Gina. “He was helping my bee sting.”
Gina eyed Eric up and down. “Uh-huh, that’s what it looked like he was doing.”
Eric thankfully ignored her and turned to Random who was wearing such a smugly knowing look that Nat wanted to slap it off his face.
“Natalie, my friend Jared. Jared, this is Natalie.” Eric made the hasty introduction, giving his friend the knock-it-off-dude glare while he did.
Nat bit back a smile and introduced Gina who just nodded at each of the guys, her mouth still puckered in a slight frown. Gina wasn’t the most trusting when it came to men.
Eric led the way out of the truck and they went to inspect the damage she’d done. Natalie groaned inwardly. She’d apparently cranked the wheel while being attacked and her bumper had shaved a nice strip of paint from the driver’s side door and his side mirror hung at a weird angle.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out to straighten the mirror. “I’ll pay for all the dam—”
The mirror snapped off in her hand and she stared at it in horror. “Shit.”
Eric’s laugh echoed through the air and Natalie looked at him in surprise.
“It’s okay,” he said, taking it from her. “It’s just a mirror and a little paint. No big deal. I was thinking of changing the color anyway.”
“I’ll pay for it, I promise.” She wasn’t sure how, but she’d make sure she did. She snagged another business card from her back pocket. “Here,” she said. “In case you lost the one from earlier. Call me and we can get it all arranged. I’ll call my insurance company and…”
“That’s okay. We can handle it between ourselves. No need for anyone’s premium to get raised over this.”
“You are being so nice about all this. Really, most people would have torn me a new one.”
Eric laughed again. Natalie liked his laugh. Deep and throaty, no holding back. His smile transformed his face from that of a sculpted Norse god into something infinitely more human, a bit softer maybe, and sexy as hell.
“Maybe I just like being nice to pretty girls.”
Natalie snorted. She’d seen her reflection in the broken mirror. Her cheek was red and slightly puffy, her mascara had run a bit, ringing her hazel eyes like some sort of cracked-out raccoon, and she was pretty sure she’d seen a few sprinkles lodged in her always errant curls.
Her suspicion was confirmed when his hand snaked out and plucked something from the top of her head. He looked at it closely for a second and then licked it from his finger.
She’d never wanted to be a finger so badly in all her life.
“Hmm. Chocolate. My favorite.”
Natalie opened her mouth to reply and couldn’t, for the life of her, think of a single thing to say. All the blood in her body seemed to have evacuated her head to pulse hotly south of the border. She seriously needed to chill the hell out.
Eric flashed that heart-melting smile at her again and rubbed his finger over her card. “How about I give you a call later tonight and we can set up a time to discuss everything. Maybe over dinner?”
Was he asking her out? No way did he just ask her out. Did he…
Eric laughed again. “It’s just dinner, Natalie. Nothing major.”
Natalie smiled. “Okay,” she said, trying to feign a calm sense of cool that she was far from feeling.
“Good.” He lifted a finger and gently touched her cheek above the sting that she’d almost forgotten about. “You take care of that.”
“I will.”
The sound of her phone blaring from her pocket snapped her back to reality. She hurried to shut off the alarm, cutting off Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” (chosen in honor of His Royal Studliness Robert Downey Jr., not out of any allegiance to the gods of rock and roll).
Eric grinned. “Great song.”
“Sorry,” Nat said. “I always double alarm so I’m not late.”
“I’m actually late, too.”
They both turned toward the bakery and took a step, stopping and looking at each other, asking simultaneously, “Are you…?”
Gina and Jared looked between the two of them.
Jared snorted. “Well, this’ll be fun.”
Chapter Three
Nat knew Gina would give her a hell of a time over the whole accident fiasco, but all thoughts of that disaster faded in the face of the miracle that had just occurred. Nat stared, dumbstruck, at the best thing that had ever happened to her. It was beautiful. Nothing more than a dirty strip of concrete really, but the rickety doors that had hidden it from view opened to each side and beckoned her like a pair of outstretched arms. Natalie clutched the ownership papers in her hand. “It’s mine? Really?”
Mr. Davis, the lawyer for old Mrs. Lambert who had owned the building Nat lived in, gave her a vague smile. “Yes, Miss Moran. Well, the parking spot. The building adjacent to it was left to Mr. Schneider.” He nodded at where Eric stood leaning against his car, thumbing through a sheaf of papers Mr. Davis had given him.
“Wait, what?” Nat asked. “I inherited a garage but the building it’s attached to belongs to someone else? How does that work?”
“That’s something you’ll need to work out with Mrs. Lambert’s nephew.”
Nat frowned, more confused than ever. She hadn’t known Mrs. Lambert had a nephew. And who in the world inherited a parking spot? Well, a garage really. She swallowed her disappointment over the loss of the building. It looked like an old bakery and Nat had seen a glimpse of stainless steel through the windows, a good sign there were appliances inside.
That building would be the answer to all her prayers. It must be the bakery that Mrs. Lambert had run years before, a shared love they had bonded over during their frequent chats. She hadn’t known Mrs. Lambert still owned it, though. If it had been a bakery in some distant past and was still zoned and licensed for it, it could mean a prep kitchen all of her own. She wouldn’t have to keep renting the microscopic kitchen she currently shared with four other vendors to store her ingredients and bake her cupcakes. Or better yet, an actual storefront—of her own.
Maybe Eric would let her rent the space. Having her prep kitchen adjacent to where she parked her truck would be a dream come true. Though hell, even with the parking space alone, Mrs. Lambert had just given her a luxury very few vendors could afford. A luxury that was only four blocks from her apartment. It was too good to be true. If Eric was amenable to the idea. He might not be so thrilled that the garage didn’t go along with the building. Then again, he worked on Wall Street, so what use would he have for an old bakery? Maybe she could broach the subject when they went out. If he still wanted to go out. Though, damn. She didn’t want him thinking she was only going out with him because she wanted the building.
The lawyer continued, breaking into the haze of thoughts flooding her head. “If you’d like to sell it, I can take care of that for you. Of course, according to Mrs. Lambert’s will, you must give Mr. Schneider first rights on buying the garage. And vice versa, if he wants to sell the building. But if he declines, you’ll have no trouble at all finding a buyer. The parking spot alone would bring you a lot of money.”
Gina perked up, pushing off from the cement wall she’d been leaning against. “How much?” she asked. Nat frowned but Gina just smiled and shrugged. “I’m curious.”
“I oversaw the sale of a client’s spot in the depot down the street for eighty grand last month. With an actual private garage like this, you could probabl
y get more. Quite a bit more.”
Nat’s mouth dropped open.
“Holy crap,” Gina said. “Nat…”
Natalie was already shaking her head. As much fun as the money would be, she wanted the space more. It would save her more than it was worth within a couple years with the depot fees she would no longer have to pay. Not to mention, if she could get Eric to let her use the kitchen, she’d save on prep space fees also. And if she could get the whole building… “So, if I wanted to buy the building, how much would that cost?”
The lawyer shrugged and handed her another sheaf of papers and a pen. “That would be up to Mr. Schneider. The building hasn’t been used in some time, so it might be possible to get a good deal on it. For a building of this size in this location though, I’d say a minimum of $350,000. As for the garage, just sign here, here, and initial here, and it’s all yours.”
Anxiety roiled in Nat’s stomach and threatened to evict the cupcake she’d chowed down for dinner as she debated her chances of getting Eric to sell for a buck. That’s about all she could afford. No way could she scrape up the fortune the building would cost. Not while she was still paying off her new food truck, which could probably use a trip to the body shop now. And that wasn’t even considering the repairs on Eric’s car. And his shirt. She was going to pay for those, no matter what he said.
She scrawled her name on the papers, her signature looking nothing like her usual graceful letters, and smiled. Despite everything else, excitement rippled through her. This spot was going to make her life so much easier and save her serious cash!
“Congratulations,” Mr. Davis said, with all the enthusiasm of a cat facing a water hose. “Oh, this is for you as well.” He handed her a sealed envelope.
“What’s that?” Gina asked.
Nat opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper covered in Mrs. Lambert’s shaky script.
My dear girl,
A slab of concrete might seem an odd gift, and odder still to leave the bakery to someone else, but I can think of no one who will put it to better use. Get that truck of yours rolling and spread some sugary cheer around this cranky old city. Your visits and cupcakes were the highlight of my days. It does my old heart good knowing that I can help you start your business. And perhaps a little something else, as well.