by Amanda Boone
“I don’t know a family that wouldn’t be fed up with Felipe at this point,” Ahanti said. “He’s what? Thirty-five?”
“Thirty seven,” Ella said.
“I’ll tell you what,” Ahanti said. “I want you to go see Sofita and tell her that I’m making lime tarts tonight.” She waved her finger at the older woman. “And there’s no delivery service for these tarts! If she wants one – and I know she does! – she’s going to have to get her little butt down here tomorrow morning.”
Ella laughed. “I think that may just do the trick.”
There was a loud rumble of exhaust outside of Sweet Nothing’s windows and Ella looked up, eyes wide. “Uh oh, Ahanti,” the older woman said. “He’s back again.”
Ahanti stood up straight and smoothed down her apron. “Don’t you worry, darling. I’ve got this.”
Sweet Nothing’s front door bells jingled as Laz Romero walked in. He was wearing dirty jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather vest with a gang patch on the back. His long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His mirrored sunglasses were pushed up on top of his head, and he was smiling.
“Good morning, gorgeous!” he said to Ahanti. “How are you this morning?”
“So far, so good,” she replied. “What can I get for you?”
“I’m interested in something that’s not on the menu,” Laz said. His brown eyes lingered for a long, uncomfortable moment on Ahanti’s large chest, and then flickered up to meet the bakery owner’s not-amused gaze. “What?”
“We’ve had this conversation before, Laz,” Ahanti said. “And I haven’t even begun to have enough coffee to deal with this kind of nonsense today.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions…” the biker protested.
“Am I?” she replied, one hand on her hip. “Am I really?”
Laz laughed. “I don’t know why you won’t go out with me,” he said. “I could show you a really good time.” He let his eyes slide over the lush curves of Ahanti’s body. “Seriously.”
The front door bells jingled again. A couple walked in, clearly tourists. They wore matching plaid shirts and khaki shorts with too many pockets. They took one glance at Laz and Ahanti, turned on their heel and walked right back out again.
“You’re scaring off my business, Laz,” Ahanti snapped.
“I am your business,” he countered. “I need to order three dozen cupcakes. For my kid’s birthday at school.”
Ahanti took a deep breath and pulled out her order pad. “Okay. What kind of cupcakes?”
“Birthday cupcakes,” Laz said. “That’s all she said. And they can’t have no peanuts in them.”
“Any idea on color or flavor or any of that?” Ahanti asked.
Laz shook his head. “Not really, no.”
“How old is your kid?” Ahanti asked, trying to get some idea of what type of cupcakes would work best.
Laz pulled out his phone.
“Seriously?” Ahanti said. “You have to check to see how old your kid is?” She laughed. “You want to know why I won’t go out with you? There’s your reason, right there.”
“Hey, if you had as many kids as I do, you’d have a hard time keeping track too,” Laz replied. His grin was very close to a leer. “When all the ladies want it, who am I to tell them no?”
“That is bullshit,” Ella said, peering at them from over her coffee. “I have nine children, eleven grandchildren, and four great grandchildren.” She smiled at Ahanti. “And I can tell you each and every one of their birthdays without checking anything.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Ahanti said quickly, cutting that recitation off at the pass. She looked at Laz. “When do you need the cupcakes?”
“Snack time is eleven o’clock,” he replied.
“Today?” Ahanti shook her head, mentally adding a rush charge to the order. “Nothing like waiting until the last minute, Laz.”
“No, no, baby.” Laz was looking at his phone. “I need them for eleven o’clock on Wednesday.”
“Don’t call me baby.” Ahanti turned and started walking toward the kitchen. “I’ll have your cupcakes ready for you Wednesday morning.”
“But what about what I want now?” Laz said.
“Is it on the menu?” Ahanti asked, without looking over her shoulder.
Laz sighed. “Could I please get a banana nut muffin? And a coffee?”
“To go!” Ella helpfully suggested.
Laz laughed. “Of course.”
Ahanti packaged up the banana muffin and poured a cup of to go coffee for Laz. “Milk, no sugar, right?” she asked him.
“You do care!” he said.
Ahanti laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“How do you think he got all those kids?” Ella quipped.
The front door bells jingled again. Ahanti looked up to see Anders Egland standing there. She clapped her hands. “My honey man is here!”
Laz looked at Anders, clearly hostile. The two men were a study in opposites. Where Laz was short and dark, Anders was tall and blond; instead of biker leathers, he had on blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a dusky tan Stetson. “He’s your honey?”
“Egland Honey Products,” Anders said, stepping toward the counter and extending a hand to Laz with a big smile. “We’ve got the best hives in the county. Maybe you’ve seen our stand at the farmer’s market?”
Laz shook Ander’s hand cautiously, clearly trying to figure out what was going on. “You raise bees?”
“Yup.” Anders grinned. “It’s just like raising cattle, but there’s one big difference.”
Laz cocked his head. “What’s that?”
“You ride a much smaller horse.” Anders stepped back as Ahanti handed over Laz’s coffee and muffin.
“So I’ll see you Wednesday morning?” she said to the biker.
“Of course,” Laz replied.
“You’d better be here,” Ahanti said. She didn’t want to get saddled with three dozen birthday cupcakes.
“Have I ever let you down before?” Laz asked.
“I’m not going to give you the opportunity to start.” She waved Laz toward the door. “Now shoo. I’ve got work to do.”
Laz raised the coffee cup to Anders and smiled. “Good meeting you, man.” Then he left. His motorcycle was loud enough to be heard within the shop. Anders didn’t start talking until Laz’s bike roared away.
“Somebody needs a new exhaust.”
“I think he likes it like that,” Ahanti said with a smile. “It makes him even more obnoxious than he would normally be.”
Anders laughed. “Whatever works.” He pulled a small bottle out of his shirt pocket. “Listen, you know how I’ve been talking about the blended honeys?”
Ahanti nodded. “I liked that one you did that had the touch of lavender in it.”
“I know. You’re going to love this.” Anders stepped behind the counter to grab a spoon. He poured a tiny bit of the amber colored honey into it for Ahanti to taste. “Try this.”
She took the spoon from him and slid it into her mouth. Her brown eyes widened immediately. “What is that? I know the lavender. But what’s the rest of it?”
Anders beamed. His smile went from ear to ear, and little crinkles of joy formed in the corners of his eyes. “You like it?”
“Like it?” Ahanti smiled. “Let’s just say you’re not getting out of here with the rest of that bottle. That’s staying here with me.” She licked the spoon again. “That’s gorgeous, whatever it is.”
“It’s fireweed,” Anders said. “It grows in the Pacific Northwest, in the woods. The bushes get about this tall,” he said, holding his hand out at shoulder height. “They’ve got big spikes of bright pink flowers that the bees just love. I found a guy out there north of Seattle who’s willing to supply me, at least enough to keep working on these blends.” He cocked his head. “Do you think this is something you could use in the shop?”
“Absolutely,” Ahanti said. “I’d love to do just a basic bu
tter cookie with it first, to see how the flavor shines on its own. And then it’s a matter of finding the complementary taste that really makes it pop.”
“It’s going to be a little bit more expensive than my usual honey,” Anders said apologetically. “This guy knows what he’s got, and he’s charging accordingly.”
“I don’t care,” Ahanti said. “I’ll take every drop you’ve got. My customers are going to love this flavor.”
“I knew there was a reason I came to see you first,” Anders laughed.
“Is that the only reason?” Ahanti smiled flirtatiously. She liked the big, blond cowboy, even though their conversations had always been strictly professional.
“Well.” Anders blushed scarlet, a red flush that appeared inside his neckline and travelled all the way to his forehead. “I wouldn’t say that.”
Ahanti decided to be merciful and turned away from the moment before Anders got any more uncomfortable. “Can I hook you up with some coffee before you go?”
“Sure,” Anders said. “Black and strong, please.”
“Just like you like your women,” Ahanti said with a laugh. “No sugar?”
Anders shook his head. His blush had faded, but not by much. “I’m sweet enough already.”
Their fingertips didn’t quite touch when she handed him the cup of coffee, but a glance passed between them that let each of them know the other was thinking about it. There was an awkward moment, and then Ahanti said, “So. Um. Yeah. When will you be bringing me that honey?”
“Would Wednesday morning work for you?” Anders asked.
Ahanti pouted. “That long? I was looking forward to playing in the kitchen tonight.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Anders said. “Why don’t I leave you with this?” He set the bottle he’d drawn the sample from on the counter. “It’ll be enough to get you started while I finish bottling up the rest.”
“You are sweet, aren’t you?” Ahanti said. She took the bottle and slid it into her apron pocket. “Thank you for this. I’ll have fun with it.”
Anders gave her a look that was pure hunger. She wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by pushing any harder. “So I’ll see you Wednesday?”
He nodded. “A-yup.” He headed toward Sweet Nothing’s front door. “I’ll see you then.” Another tourist couple was headed toward the bakery’s door, and Anders held it open to usher them inside. “Folks, you’re going to want to try the danishes. This woman can bake like a dream.”
Ahanti went to bed early most nights. Sweet Nothings had a loyal band of customers who would be waiting at the door at 6 am. Making sure they had fresh donuts and pastry to enjoy required Ahanti to get into the bakery’s kitchen shortly after 3 in the morning. Staying up late wasn’t something she really did.
But tonight, Ahanti couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking through that morning’s interaction with Anders. There was something about the tall cowboy that got to her. He was shy – something that Ahanti definitely was not – and she had the sense it would take a lot to really get him talking about anything besides his beehives.
Which was a shame, because he really had a gorgeous voice. Lots of men in these parts spoke with a deep Texas drawl, but Anders sounded different. She couldn’t quite place his accent, but it didn’t sound like here. There was no high, dry, sunbaked tone to his voice; instead, listening to Anders talk brought to mind cool green meadows, where the mountain breezes blew and everything was peaceful.
It was a pleasure to think about Anders in that setting. He’d look good there, with his blond hair and blue eyes. Ahanti liked the fact that Anders was taller than her – most men weren’t – and that he was so built that she didn’t feel gigantic next to him. You wouldn’t think that raising bees was all that physical of an occupation, but the cowboy had some serious muscles on him. And Ahanti could tell he liked his food. Anders’ stomach was a soft curve, perfect for snuggling against. She smiled at the thought. In her experience, men who liked to eat were always better lovers.
She shook her head. “What am I thinking?” she asked her empty apartment. “There’s no sense going down roads that go nowhere.”
It was hot, and Ahanti decided that a shower would help her handle her frustrations. She slipped a cap over her short, tight curls and started the water, letting it run while she shed her clothes. The bathroom filled with steam, creating misty clouds that felt like a caress against Ahanti’s ebony skin. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror; dark, with generous, round breasts and a wide set of hips. Turning to the side, just a little, revealed the full curve of her ass; if Anders was ever up for a booty call, she thought, he’d have plenty to work with.
She stepped into the shower, enjoying the way the water beat against her back. Baking is a physically demanding job. After a day of moving heavy bags of flour and creating cakes, her muscles were sore and tired. The massaging beat felt good. Ahanti could feel the tension melting out of her body.
The sweet scent of jasmine from her bodywash filled the room. Ahanti slowly and leisurely washed up, letting cascades of white bubbles glide over her body before they puddled at her feet. She took her time washing her breasts, pushing the pouf slowly up and over her heavy curves before pulling them down over her chocolate-colored nipples.
Inexplicably, during this process, her mind drifted back to Anders. Ahanti smiled. She wouldn’t mind sharing a shower with that cowboy. Just saying that to him would make Anders blush, she knew- and she wondered if he turned red everywhere when he was embarrassed.
Ahanti’s hands went lower and lower as her thoughts did likewise. She was very curious about what Anders would look like underneath his clothes. Her fingertips had just brushed against her most sensitive bits when she thought about undoing his belt buckle and the zipper on his blue jeans. She bit back a gasp…and then froze, as someone started pounding on her apartment door.
“Wait! What?” she shouted, jumping out of the shower and hurriedly grabbing for a towel. “Who’s there? What’s going on?”
There was no answer. The pounding continued while Ahanti quickly dried off and wrapped herself in her robe. She tied the sash tight and went to her door.
“Who is it?” she shouted. “You’ve got two seconds to answer me or I’m calling the cops!”
The pounding stopped. “It’s Lav!” There was a pause. “Let me in. I want to talk to you!”
“Are you crazy?” Ahanti replied. “Do you even know what time it is?”
There was a long, long pause. And then Ahanti heard Lav’s familiar voice, sounding lost and confused. “No?”
She opened the door a fraction of an inch. “If I open this door, am I going to regret it?”
Lav was clearly not entirely sober. He was swaying on his feet. Ahanti could smell the beer on him. “I don’t think so,” he replied. He pulled open his leather jacket, showing Ahanti his waistband. “I left my gun at home.”
Ahanti, despite everything, laughed. “You do realize that isn’t how you’re supposed to make a girl feel better.” She opened the door wider and leaned against the doorjamb, using her body to block the entranceway to her apartment. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”
“I was thinking about when you called me a bad Dad,” Lav said. He looked at her, and his eyes were teary. “That shit aint right. You don’t know how it is with me.”
“Lav, why don’t you sit down?” Ahanti said. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
The biker nodded, and slumped to the floor on the other side of the hallway. From there, he began to explain how he’d tried, really, really tried, to have relationships with the mothers of his children, but it had just never worked out. “They want me when they want to have a good time,” he groaned, “but for all the rest of it? The love and support thing? Being a family? They don’t want a guy like me for that.”
“That’s hard, Lav,” Ahanti said. Her mind was racing. He was obviously in no condition to drive home, and she
definitely didn’t feel safe inviting the drunk biker into her apartment. But he couldn’t stay where he was – the last thing Ahanti needed was to irritate her neighbors. Calling the cops wasn’t really a great idea.
“No one will give me a chance!” Lav wailed. “Like you. I ask you out all the time, and you never say yes. We could go for coffee. We could go to the museum. But you don’t even give me a chance to show you what a nice guy I am.”
Ahanti sighed. “Because you don’t say “Hey, want to get coffee sometime?” She shook her head. “You act like you’re going to rip my clothes off at the first opportunity.”
“That’s only because you’re beautiful,” Lav said, waving his hand. “If you were ugly, I’d never act like that.”
“Gee, that makes it much better.” Ahanti shook her head. “Lav, I’m sorry I made you feel like I thought you were a bad Dad. That’s not what I meant to have happen.”
Lav looked up at her from the floor. “Does that mean you’ll let me take you out for coffee sometime?”
“I don’t know about that,” Ahanti said. “Why don’t we talk about that when you’re sober?”
Lav looked up and the look in his eyes was not exactly nice. “I hope you’re ready to wait a while,” he said. He reached in his jacket pocket and took out a silver flask. He unscrewed the top and took a big swig. “Because I’m pretty drunk right now and I’ve got plans to stay that way.”
Ahanti stepped backwards, and shut her apartment door. She heard Lav mutter “Bitch!” when she slid the chain into place.
“This is nuts,” she said to herself. She paced through her tiny living room into her kitchen. “What am I going to do?”
The tiny bottle of honey sitting on the counter caught her eye.
“I could call Anders,” she said. “He’s tough. He’s smart. He’ll know what to do.” Ahanti laughed to herself when she realized that she didn’t know for a fact any of those three statements were true. “Well, he could bring some bees with him.”
She called the number on the honey jar label. Anders answered on the second ring. “Hello?”