Making Whoopie

by Erin Nicholas

  Zoe’s eyes widened.

  “But I turned them down too,” Josie said. “I love watching people’s eyes light up when they see or taste something I’ve created. I would never get to experience that with a Hot Cakes cake. I do get to do it at the bakery sometimes, and I’m grateful for that. But I’d love the chance to really try new things and get people’s reactions one on one. This is a little more personal, a little more my own thing, and I want a little bit of that.”

  Zoe smiled. “I love that. If you want to do this, you have my support, however you want to make it happen. You can do it through Buttered Up or on your own, but either way, I’m here for you. I love you, and I’m sorry that I haven’t let you shine.”

  Josie gave a choked sob-laugh and pulled Zoe into another hug. After she let her go, she said firmly, “It wasn’t you. It was me. I wasn’t ready to shine. I was… content. I really was.”

  “Until?”

  “Grant,” she admitted.

  Zoe gave her a knowing smile. “Falling in love has a way of changing your perspective and shaking things up you didn’t even know needed shaken.”

  Josie nodded. “I hope it works that way for Grant too.”

  “It will.”

  She really hoped so. She really, really hoped so.

  Just then her phone chimed with a text notification. It was Cam.

  I hope you’re almost done. This guy is like a caged animal.

  She grinned. A caged animal, huh?

  Cam replied, Pacing around, growling at everyone about everything, generally losing his patience… and sense of humor. Don’t know how much longer we can keep him here.

  Josie felt her heart swell. Grant Lorre was like a caged animal, huh? Grant was the levelheaded one, the one who talked the rest of them out of reacting purely on emotion.

  Maybe Grant was getting a little shaken up too.

  Good.

  She took a breath, looked at Zoe, looked at the island top full of treats—her creations—and then typed, I’m ready for him.

  Finally.

  Grant stomped up the back steps to Jocelyn’s house.

  It had been fourteen hours since he’d seen her. It felt like a year.

  The meetings with Ollie about the new snack cake and the contest and auction and circus had been predictably crazy and annoying. Grant had finally called Cam in as backup because, sure enough, Ollie had a way of getting Whitney worked up and excited about really stupid shit.

  Okay, maybe not stupid shit. But when more than half his concentration had been on Jocelyn and what she was thinking and feeling and how to tell her he was in love with her and how to save his marriage… conversations about bouncy houses and how much it would cost to rent a Ferris wheel had tried his patience more than they usually would have. And they usually would have tried his patience a lot.

  Now he was finally “allowed” to go to Jocelyn. If he hadn’t known that Cam and Whitney were keeping him away on purpose, because Jocelyn had some plan she was trying to put together, he would have lost it. He’d have fired them both. Or locked them in the supply closet and come over here hours ago.

  Then again, the supply-closet thing might have been great. It would have gotten them together and out of his way at the same time.

  But now he was here, and he and Jocelyn were going to get back together.

  He was going to beg her to forgive him, move his stuff into this amazing old house in this tiny, quirky town, convince her to marry him again with a huge ceremony and the-whole-town’s-invited party after, and then they were going to live here, happily ever after, dammit.

  But he paused on the top step, his hand on the handle of the back door, and took a big breath. He blew it out. Repeated the breath. Then opened the door and walked in.

  The aroma was the first thing that hit him. As always. Her house smelled delicious. Like a home. Like a place people came to be comforted and to celebrate and to be taken care of.

  Jocelyn didn’t need to be taken care of. She needed to take care of people.

  He was very happy to be one of those people. If she’d have him.

  He kicked his shoes off inside the back door and headed into the kitchen.

  He came up short at the sight that met him.

  Jocelyn was at the middle kitchen island, tossing a salad, barefoot, wearing a huge smile and an apron and… nothing else.

  “Hi,” she said softly.

  “Hi.” Everything in him strained to go to her. But he had some things he needed to say first. “I—”

  “I thought our first date should be a candlelight dinner here, in my house, that I made for you,” she said.

  He glanced to his left and into the dining room. It glowed with candlelight, the flames glittering off the chandelier overhead that had probably hung there for a hundred years. He pulled in a deep breath, feeling the tension drain out of him.

  “Our first date?” he asked, turning back to her.

  She nodded. “We’ve had a one-night stand that wasn’t even a whole night. We’ve had a marriage. But we haven’t really had a date.”

  He supposed she had a point. Their dinner in Chicago had been as a married couple as had the movies and cuddling on the couch. “Married couples can’t have dates?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Of course they can. But since we’re not married anymore, this isn’t a married-couple date.”

  “We can fix that,” he said, stepping forward. “We can rip those papers up.”

  She shook her head. “No, we can’t.”

  “But if we don’t want to be divorced—”

  “You don’t rip chapter one out of a book when you get to chapter two,” she said, picking up the salad bowl. “You just turn those pages and keep going. Those pages are as much a part of the story as the next ones.”

  “But we’re going to keep going?” he asked, his chest tight.

  She smiled and started for the dining room, giving him a magnificent view of her bare ass in that apron. “We’re definitely going to keep going.”

  Grant felt relief spill through him, and he followed her, crowding in close as she set the salad bowl down.

  He quickly took inventory of the table. Pork chops, salad, rolls, wine, and what looked like a pan of cheesy potatoes.

  As soon as her hands were empty, he turned her, his hands on her upper arms. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I somehow made it seem like you needed me to fix things. Or if I made you feel like you were living your life the wrong way. You’re not. You’re happy and loved and… there’s nothing more important than that. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to be a part of that. Because I do. So much. I just need a little practice being…” He wasn’t sure what word to insert there. He hadn’t practiced this speech. This was all just from the heart.

  “Impractical?” she supplied with a grin.

  “In love,” he finally said.

  Her expression softened. “I can help you with that.”

  “You already are.”

  “For the record,” she said, resting her hands on his chest and moving closer, “I need practice at that too. I know what it looks like. I know how I want it to be. But I’ve never done it. And I realize that it’s going to look a little different for us than it does for others. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was striving for some perfect idea in my head.” She paused and shrugged. “I probably was, actually. I never expected to fall in love with a guy who likes adding and subtracting so much.”

  He grinned down at her, his heart feeling light, the happiness a nearly palpable thing. “Thank God you are romantic enough to know that love comes along in the most unexpected ways.”

  “It really does.”

  “And to celebrate us starting to date, we’re having whoopie pies for dessert, right?” he asked hopefully, running his hands down her back to her ass.

  “Actually, no.”

  He pulled back. “No?”

  She pointed to the cake on the table.

  It w
as a square cake, still in the pan, with white frosting.

  “Oh. Cake,” he said. “Okay.”

  She laughed. “It’s okay if you think that looks very simple and plain. Interestingly, it’s the most straightforward, simple, plain cake I think I’ve ever made.”

  He lifted a brow. “Is there some symbolism there? Like our relationship is actually quite straightforward and simple when you get right down to it? We don’t need a lot of fancy embellishments? We are what make it colorful?”

  She nodded. “Kind of.” She took a breath. “I realized that what I love about baking is seeing people react to what I make. I love watching them get immediately happy when they see or taste something I made.” She pressed her lips together, then bracketed his face with her hands. “I’m your cake, Grant.”

  He felt his chest tighten and had a hard time taking a deep breath.

  “The look on your face when you walk in and see me is how people look at my cakes. When people come into the bakery and first see a cake I’ve made for them or are perusing the bakery case and see the perfect thing, they get this look that says that they’ve found something even better than they imagined and they’re just… delighted.” She nodded her head. “I delight you.”

  She did. She so fucking did. He would have never picked that word to describe him, but it was absolutely perfect.

  She wet her lips and continued, “I got Zoe a t-shirt once that said I want someone to look at me the way I look at chocolate cake. She found him. Aiden looks at her that way. Dax looks at Jane that way. And… you look at me that way. And that is why we should keep dating, and eventually, after my business is up and running, and you’re used to living here in a little town and everything, why we should get married again.”

  He just stared at her. She was absolutely right. When he looked at her, when he heard her voice, when he kissed her, when he knew he was about to see her, he lit up. He could feel it. She made him happy and content and excited and like the day had gotten a little more special. She delighted him. She made him feel like all of her customers looked when they saw her cakes.

  He felt a grin curving his lips. Then he thought about what else she’d said, “Your business?”

  “I have a lot to tell you,” she said.

  “I can’t wait.”

  She gave him a happy, excited grin. Then she glanced at the cake on the table again. “Okay, confession,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  “I was actually going to make the cake into a spreadsheet,” she said, looking back up at him with a sheepish smile. “But I didn’t have time to pull it up on my computer, and I couldn’t remember what a spreadsheet looks like in enough detail to decorate a cake like one.”

  Grant chuckled. Then he laughed a little louder. Then even louder. He hugged her to him, relishing the feel of her in his arms, surrounded by the smell of vanilla and sugar. If love had a smell, that’s what it would be for him.

  “I love you, Jocelyn.”

  “I love you too, Grant,” she said, tipping her head back to look up at him.

  His phone dinged with a text. He ignored it.

  “I’d be very happy to reacquaint you with spreadsheets. Just like the lessons last night,” he told her, his voice gruff.

  She grinned. “Deal. And since I’m not really wearing anything that I can strip off, how about every time you teach me something and I get it right, you can smear frosting from that cake on a part of my body and lick it off.”

  His body heated and he growled, “Deal.”

  The phone dinged again. He sighed.

  “You can answer it,” she said. “We’re both business owners. I get that we’re kind of on the clock all the time.”

  He smiled down at her. “Fine. But we agree right now that when we’re both naked, the phones can wait.”

  She grinned. “I agree.”

  He pulled his phone from his back pocket and swiped the screen with his thumb. It was a text from Cam.

  Grant frowned and read the text out loud, “I should probably tell you now that you’re not actually divorced.”

  “But we both signed them,” Jocelyn said.

  Grant nodded and typed back What are you talking about?

  As your attorney I feel obligated to say you should always read every single word in any document you are signing.

  Grant sighed. What are you talking about? he asked again.

  The divorce papers you both signed are actually cat adoption papers from Cores and Catnips. So congrats. You’re still married, and you can now go to Paige’s place and pick out any three cats.

  Grant blinked at the message. He read it out loud to Jocelyn. Her eyes widened, and then she started laughing.

  “Three?” she asked. “Not even just one?”

  Grant shook his head. “I suppose you love cats as much as your sister does?”

  “Oh, no one loves cats as much as my sister does,” Jocelyn said. “But yeah… I wouldn’t mind having a cat. Or three.”

  Grant looked down at the love of his life realizing that there was nothing he wouldn’t do or put up with for her. “A small town, a woman who doesn’t like spreadsheets, another business partner who thinks way outside the box, and now three cats. How did my life get so crazy all of a sudden?”

  Jocelyn grinned. “You fell in love.”

  Everything in him softened. He smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

  “And oh my God! We’re not divorced?” Jocelyn suddenly exclaimed.

  “I guess not.” He had to admit, that was pretty fucking great. They’d figured out how they truly felt, and if they had been divorced, they would have ended up together—for all the right reasons—anyway. But now… she was still his. In every single way.

  “So…” She was clearly thinking it all through. “Can we still date? I mean, I feel like we still need to date each other for a while.”

  “We can absolutely still date,” he said. “For the rest of our lives.”

  Her expression softened, and she gave him a sweet smile. “Okay. Then we’ll still date. For…” She was clearly thinking something through. “Maybe six or seven months?”

  “What happens in six or seven months?” he asked.

  “We’ll have our wedding.”

  He blinked at her. “A wedding? We did that.”

  “No. We got legally married by a judge,” Jocelyn corrected him. “Now we’ll have a wedding. Here in Appleby. With all our friends and family.”

  “All of your friends?” he repeated. “So the entire town?”

  She grinned, practically glowing. “Yes.”

  Grant felt himself nodding. “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s have a huge blowout dream wedding. After we date for a few months.”

  Jocelyn threw her arms around him. “Thank you!”

  Maybe she didn’t realize that he’d do anything for her yet, but he was sure she was going to figure it out quickly.

  “And now, about this frosting and those spreadsheets…” He started to reach for the cake.

  But she stopped him. “Oh, first, cheesy potatoes.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Before frosting?”

  “Well, they’re symbolic too.”

  “Symbolic cheesy potatoes?”

  She nodded, grinning. “Turns out, people can fall in love over cheesy potatoes after all.”

  Thank you so much for reading Making Whoopie! I hope you loved Josie and Grant’s story!

  * * *

  Next up is Cam and Whitney’s story in

  Semi-Sweet On You!

  * * *

  She broke his heart ten years ago.

  Now he's back -- and her new boss.

  And she might still be semi in love with him.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  The Hot Cakes Series

  Sugarcoated

  Forking Around

  Making Whoopie

  Semi-Sweet On You

  Oh, Fudge (Christmas)

  Gimme S’more

  If you love sexy,
funny, small town romance and, well, hot kitchens and baked goods ;) you should also check out my Billionaires in Blue Jeans series!

  Triplet billionaire sisters find themselves in small town Kansas for a year running a pie shop…and falling in love!

  * * *

  Diamonds and Dirt Roads

  High Heels and Haystacks

  Cashmere and Camo

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  Find all my books at

  www.ErinNicholas.com

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  About Erin

  Erin Nicholas is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty sexy contemporary romances. Her stories have been described as toe-curling, enchanting, steamy and fun. She loves to write about reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines and happily ever afters. She lives in the Midwest with her husband who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books, her kids who will never read the sex scenes in her books, and family and friends who say they’re shocked by the sex scenes in her books (yeah, right!).

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  Find her and all her books at

  www.ErinNicholas.com

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