Valhalla Cupcakes

by Cassidy Cayman

  “I’ll bet you don’t.” Seda made a puckery face. “But how long can it last? I mean, what’s he supposed to do in this time? Raid the coast?”

  “Stop. That’s not all they did. He agreed to stay until that mess with the creditors is figured out.”

  “What mess with the creditors? I thought you used a bank? Are banks busting kneecaps these days?”

  Audrey groaned, realizing she’d once again forgot to call and explain, and there hadn’t been time yesterday morning. She quickly told her sad tale, omitting all but the part about Erik being under her control. She didn’t want to admit she still felt a little bad about it, but it was necessary. Hadn’t he tried to sneak out last night, after he’d orgasmed her to oblivion?

  “So, that’s why I need him to stick around. To intimidate the thugs. He’s being really helpful, actually. He made four batches of cupcakes on his own.”

  “Wow, that’s brilliant,” she said. Audrey scowled at her, hating whenever someone denigrated the fine art of baking. “But what if he kills you in your sleep?”

  Audrey almost let it slip that he wasn’t allowed in her room, but knew that wouldn’t fly with Seda. She felt offended on Erik’s behalf that she even asked such a question. Surely anyone who looked at him knew he wasn’t a killer.

  “He wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it,” she said, certain she was right.

  “Oh my God, you totally slept with him. You’re blind with lust over him. Did he coerce you?”

  “Out. Go. I’m not going to dignify that with a response. He’s perfectly nice.”

  “He’s a cursed Viking from five hundred years ago,” Seda said.

  “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” she said. “Welcome to the party.”

  “Shut up.” Her demeanor changed suddenly. “So, you’re really starting to like this guy? You think he likes you back?”

  “Are we in sixth grade?” Audrey demanded, wishing she knew how he felt about her. Nonsense, she didn’t wish any such thing. Because it didn’t matter. “This is a business transaction. I’m, uh, going to help him out with something from his past, some research thing, after he helps me.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Seda didn’t look satisfied with her answers, but shrugged. “Which ones did he make?”

  “Red velvet and vanilla hazelnut.”

  “I’ll take some for my new client. She’s massively rich. Once she’s hooked, you’ll be famous.” Seda took her by the shoulders. “Be careful, okay?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, feeling bad about being snippy when her best friend only thought of her well-being.

  She followed her back into the main shop area, where her sonar-eared Viking already had a box packed up and sitting alongside the to-go coffee.

  Seda handed him her credit card and he refused to take it. “Audrey won’t want your money,” he said stiffly, still clearly not liking her.

  “Audrey, tell him to take my money,” she ordered. “It’s not like you don’t need every penny.”

  “It’s okay, Erik, you can charge her this time,” she said tiredly.

  It was no use arguing when Seda pulled out her bossy tone, and her words were true. She really couldn’t afford to give away free samples right now.

  “Thank you for not telling her about your power over me,” he said after she left.

  “You’re like a little kid, always listening at doors,” she said.

  “I wasn’t listening on purpose,” he said.

  How could he be so adorable? She turned around and walked back into the kitchen, wanting to clutch her chest at the tearing feeling that went through her at the sight of that giant, fierce man in the tiny pink helmet, speaking so plaintively. Damn, damn, damn.

  She cleaned up the kitchen while listening to the wonderful sound of the doorbell ringing almost constantly, and Erik’s friendly banter with the customers.

  “Audrey, come out here,” he called. The alarmed sound of his voice set her hairs on edge. Were the thugs back so soon? They told her a week. And why would he sound frightened of them? His sole purpose here was to scare them away.

  She raced to the front to find a few groups of ladies sitting around the tables, and Erik with his hand on the chest of a man with a big, professional looking camera. A woman stood beside them with a microphone, bouncing in her delight.

  “Audrey, is this all right?” Erik asked nervously. “They want to do a television interview?”

  She ran and grabbed his shirt to pull him away from the terrified camera man. “Yes, why wouldn’t it be all right?” she asked, rubbing his back to soothe the savage beast.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She ignored him and apologized to the woman, who was clearly in charge of the expedition. “I’m Audrey Allen. Welcome to Valhalla.”

  “This is brilliant,” the woman said. “So cute! I’m Lydia Montez, from channel eight. Camera guy’s Lou.”

  “Oh my gosh, yes, of course.”

  Audrey woke up at four every morning, worked like a dog until eight or nine, then collapsed into bed shortly after. She had no clue who Lydia was, but she knew getting on television could only be good for the shop. Lydia barely took her eyes off Erik, and motioned for the cameraman to start rolling.

  “Do you mind if we do a little neighborhood interest piece? It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  “No, that sounds great, thanks.” Audrey couldn’t believe her luck, which seemed to be getting better and better.

  Lydia jumped right into her spiel, pushing Audrey behind her and out of camera range.

  “Good morning, everyone. We’re here today at Valhalla Cupcakes, a brand new shop on West Bingham.”

  Audrey watched as Lou panned from Lydia over to the cupcake display, which thankfully still looked nice and not too picked over yet. Then he perv cammed up and down Erik before returning to Lydia.

  “What’s so special about this place, besides the amazing cupcakes?” Lydia continued in her practiced, smarmy voice. “The real life Viking who serves them up.”

  She walked over and stuck out her hand. Erik looked to Audrey for help and she nodded encouragingly while miming shaking hands. The poor guy had stage fright, it seemed.

  “Do you make the cupcakes as well?” Lydia asked, sauntering up next to him and reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder. Standing beside him, she waggled her brows at the camera. “Look how big he is,” she said, almost to herself.

  Still staring past the camera like a deer caught in headlights, Erik followed along as Audrey nodded vigorously. ‘Answer the question,’ she mouthed.

  “Yes, I made them,” he said. “But they’re Audrey’s recipes.”

  “Well, come on in here, Audrey,” Lydia said, her overly white teeth gleaming.

  Lou reached around and pushed her forward and she stumbled into Erik, who put his arm around her shoulder.

  “Would you like to try one?” she asked, pulling on Erik’s arm to send him behind the counter, shocked when Lou panned down to his ass. What kind of morning show was this?

  “Definitely,” Lydia said, taking a bite of the maple bacon. Her eyes rolled back in her head theatrically. “Goodness gracious, that’s delicious. Is there bacon in there? Ladies and gentleman, be sure to check out Valhalla Cupcakes on West Bingham. This is Lydia, and I’ll see you again next week for channel eight’s new business breakout.”

  She snapped her hand at Lou, and he turned off the camera. In a whirlwind of handshakes and Audrey pressing a box of cupcakes on them to take back to the station, they were gone.

  Erik stood in a daze, silently refilling one of the customer’s coffee cups before turning to her. “That was a good thing? I thought we weren’t giving away anymore cupcakes.”

  “It was a very good thing, I think,” she said. “And it was only a half dozen. It’s free advertising, don’t you see? I hope people actually watch that show.”

  She couldn’t contain her excitement, couldn’t wait to search for the segment on the internet t
o see if she’d looked capable and professional. She slapped her hand to her head.

  “How did my hair look?” she asked, trying to catch her reflection in the display case.

  “The same as usual,” he answered, not helpful at all.

  She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “I hope a million people come because of that show.”

  He held onto her, letting her slide down the length of him before resting her feet back on the floor. He smiled tenderly at her, then looked sheepishly at the customers over her shoulder. She turned to see the groups of women beaming at them.

  “You two are so sweet together,” one of the older ones said.

  “Yes, a lovely couple,” another one said, turning to her friend. “Were we ever that young, Mabel?”

  Audrey shook her head at their misunderstanding, but Erik pulled her closer, announcing, “We’re very happy to be able to live our dream here. It’s truly Valhalla to us.”

  Every single one of the customers sighed as if he’d just read the most beautiful, heart rending poem known to mankind, and even though she could see the teasing glimmer in his eyes, she couldn’t help but lean against him and go along with it for the sake of the ladies. Maybe for her own sake too, just a little.

  Chapter 8

  The second day was only slightly less busy than the grand opening, and it kept them both on their toes until Audrey gratefully said goodbye to the last customers and locked the door behind them. The main difference was there was a huge call-in order that had to be ready for pickup the next day. The fancy ad agency up the block from her needed eight dozen cupcakes with green frosting for a teambuilding event, and she’d told them absolutely, giddy about her first catering order.

  “Take a rest, we’re going to be baking some more,” she told Erik, trying to push him into a chair. “I’ll head out to the store to restock, and get us some dinner.”

  She didn’t think he’d taken a break the whole day, barely pausing to inhale the hamburger she ran out to buy him at lunchtime. Now he swayed on his feet with weariness, but refused to budge.

  “Let me go with you. You’re more tired than I am. I can carry things for you.”

  He was probably right. She had spent a good part of what was left of last night having doubts and recriminations, instead of sleeping. Having him along would be quicker and easier than going alone, and she hadn’t got to chat with him much once the lunch rush hit. She strangely missed him, even though they’d been together all day. It felt good to be alone with him again.

  “We will honestly eat better starting tomorrow,” she promised, after the shopping was done and they stopped to order tacos. With the loan sharks breathing down her neck, she couldn’t afford to hire another person to help out, and the busy rush of doing everything themselves made it impossible to think about cooking a hearty meal afterward. “I’ll call my mom if I have to and beg her to bring us something home cooked.”

  “I’m so hungry, I could eat a chicken with its feathers still on,” he said amiably. “As long as it’s edible, I’m fine.” He pushed the door open for her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. “What would you tell your mother about me?”

  She frowned at that, thinking they might be eating fast food for a while, as she definitely didn’t know how she’d explain Erik to her mother. Her mom would go haywire just knowing she was living with a man, let alone any mention of his extraordinary origins. Too much stress, right there.

  All she wanted to do was swing her feet up into Erik’s lap and watch him scarf down his food, then have him rub her toes. Only then would she be able to get back in the kitchen to make eight dozen more cupcakes.

  She unwrapped the tacos and placed them on a plate in front of him and sat across from him at one of the tiny cafe tables in the dining area. There was a third bedroom on the ground floor that she was currently using for storage, but now she planned to turn it into a cozy living area as soon as she had the money for it. She wanted to snuggle up with him on a couch, watch a movie, and enjoy a glass of wine after the long work day.

  Stop being such a dummy, she told herself.

  If she ever had extra money to buy living room furniture, that would mean the mobsters were off her back, and that would mean Erik was long gone. He only promised to stay until the debt problem was solved, and she’d promised to release him as well. Still, wouldn’t he be under her control even then? Just because they made a deal didn’t mean his curse was broken. She could keep him if she wanted to badly enough.

  And he’d hate you forever, she thought. She shouldn’t be torturing herself with thoughts of the future anyway, as it was going to take ages to pay back a hundred thousand dollars. She’d get to enjoy Erik’s company for a good long time. She laughed out loud, finding it hard to believe she actually found something good about being under the thumb of ruthless money lenders.

  “What’s got you laughing?” he asked, already finished eating.

  “I was thinking about the news people,” she quickly covered. “Do you want to see if we can watch it?”

  She ran for her laptop and found the website. The clip was even shorter than the few minutes the reporter was there, and heavily featured closeups of Erik, both front and back.

  “You look scared out of your wits,” she teased, replaying it to see how the cupcakes showed up.

  They didn’t stand up to the deliciousness of her Viking, but they looked good enough to hopefully draw in some more customers.

  “Does that woman know about my curse?” he asked, confused about Lydia referring to him as a real life Viking. “Isn’t that something we should keep a secret?”

  “She doesn’t really know anything. She was just saying that for effect because of the name of the shop, and because you’re big and blond. It’s kind of cute how well you fit in with the decor, actually.”

  “I’ll tell you again, Audrey. I’m not cute. There’s nothing cute about me.”

  Just him saying those words made her squeeze her hands at the cuteness overload. “I’m sorry, but I think you really are.”

  “Then I’ll have to find a way to make you see that I’m not.”

  His face grew intent and he stood up and leaned across the table, reaching behind her head to pull her close. The sensuous play of his lips on hers made her forget about all the work she still had to do. When he moved around the table to wrap his hands around her waist, she groaned, remembering, but trying to push it aside so she could enjoy his touch.

  “Just a few minutes,” he murmured, his fingertips edging under the hem of her top. “Or longer, whichever you like.”

  He moved his fingers upward along her back, sending ripples down her spine, and snapped open her bra with surprising dexterity.

  “How did you get so good at that?” she asked, as his mouth traveled down her throat.

  “I pay attention,” he told her. “For instance, I recall you like this quite a bit, yes?” He slid his hands up her sides and stroked his thumbs over her nipples.

  “Yes,” she sighed, completely under his spell and wanting more.

  He led her over to an armchair, then turned and sat in it, pulling her down on his lap. She got into a more comfortable position straddling him and rested her hands on the back of it, digging her fingernails into the dark green velvet as he resumed kissing her again.

  Something about the color green kept interrupting the flow of her thoughts, which pleasantly swirled with the sensation of Erik’s hard body underneath her, and his firm, gentle kisses. How was she going to make the frosting green like the client wanted? It seemed so ugly to her. Maybe she could manage an ombre effect without it looking too tacky? As long as they tasted good, that was what mattered, but she still prided herself on presentation.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I think we should get those cupcakes out of the way so I can concentrate.”

  He looked overflowing with disappointment, and her limbs hung heavy at her sides as if berating her for making the wrong choice. She silently apolo
gized to her body, while her brain did a smug victory dance.

  “If we both mix up half, it shouldn’t take too long,” she promised both Erik and herself, while struggling to get her bra fastened again. “I need to figure out the frosting, too.”

  She dragged him into the kitchen, and tossed his apron at him. “Hey, did you get any more phone numbers today?” she asked in an overly casual voice as she tied her own apron back on.

  “Yes, but I threw them out since you didn’t seem to like it,” he said, with a far too complacent smile.

  “Well, it’s not that so much as we just don’t have time for you to be dallying around like that.”

  “Okay, Audrey,” he said, seeing right through her and seeming to enjoy her discomfort at being caught acting jealous.

  She wasn’t jealous at all, she told herself firmly. It was the truth that all their time was taken up with the business, and would be until she had one hundred thousand extra dollars. There were plenty of men she might want to spend time with too, but they’d have to wait as well.

  He stood with his apron on, and an expectant look on his face, waiting for her to give him instructions, and she knew it wasn’t true. There was no one she’d rather be with right now than him, even if it meant slaving over an industrial mixer until the wee hours.

  “You take the vanilla, since that’s the easier recipe, and I’ll take chocolate. I think we’ll do whipped cream instead of cream cheese frosting. Gosh, I hate putting food coloring into frosting, but that’s what they want.” She stopped her rambling at the smile he bestowed on her. “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “This is fun,” he said. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t been out much lately,” he paused to smirk at his bad joke. “But I like working here with you.”

  She turned to hide her cheeks, which had to be blushing violet. “We’ll see if you feel that way in a couple hours.

  They set up the bowls and utensils, and she preheated the oven, chattering about how well he was taking to modern life. Nothing seemed to phase him.