Lava exploded in Kimmie’s cheeks. She had avoided communication with the Josh Juan for all of those sixteen months, until tonight. And she would’ve preferred to continue pretending he didn’t exist, and for him to have never known she existed. “H-how?” she said.
“By seducing it out of him, of course.”
This woman carried herself like Kimmie’s mother, but those were not words Kimmie’s mother should’ve known. Having her brûlée crème’d would’ve been better than this.
And she suspected General Mom knew it. “Mom—I don’t think—I can’t—”
“Can’t and won’t are two distinct words, Kimberly. Use them carefully. You most certainly can. And you will. Our ancestors founded this town. They set Bliss on a path to becoming the bridal capital of the Midwest. They set us on a path to the opportunities we have today. Heaven’s Bakery has been an institution, the anchoring shop among the local shops on The Aisle since before the First World War. Your grandfather commissioned the wedding cake monument. And our descendants will continue the proud tradition of supplying the best, biggest, and most delicious wedding cakes to Bliss brides for decades to come. But not until you embrace the Blythe side of your blood and reclaim our future for us.”
And this was why she’d earned the underground nickname of the Queen General.
Kimmie swallowed hard. I had a dream you and the wedding cake monument became one and together you made it rain pickle-flavored frosting would’ve deflected the conversation with anyone else, but not with her mother. “Mom, I want Heaven’s Bakery back in the family as much as you, but maybe I can try something… more subtle first?”
“I have located a picture of Mr. Kincaid kissing you tonight, and I have ensured that it has been uploaded to every social media outlet known to man, along with bringing it to the attention of certain friends in the right places. Before midnight, all the tabloids that care about alien abductions, the Kardashians, and the girlfriends of conscienceless playboy heirs to national snack cake corporations will be spreading the news that Joshua Kincaid has fallen in love with Bliss’s premiere wedding cake baker.”
Kimmie closed her eyes. But hard as she prayed, the floor didn’t open up and swallow her whole. And when she opened her eyes, her mother hadn’t been replaced by a sweet, grandmotherly type who would’ve been a fantastic kindergarten teacher.
The only thing worse than this plan would be the mortification when Josh denied the rumors. “Mom—”
“You chose your path when you flung yourself at him.” General Mom stood and rose to her full height. “I’ve emailed you a complete dossier on the man. I expect you to read it, memorize it, and use it to your greatest advantage. I will give you one month—until the end of Knot Festival—to resecure his portion of Heaven’s Bakery. After that—”
Mom stopped, blinked, and took a shuddery breath. “Running a business is not for the faint-hearted, Kimberly,” her mother said softly. “If you are to inherit Heaven’s Bakery, the whole bakery, you need to learn to run the bakery as efficiently, smartly, and ruthlessly as a man would. It’s not all about the sweet frosting and fluffy cake. And if you have to do it alone, without the aid of a husband, as you seem determined to do, I need to know that you won’t fail.”
“Because our heritage is everything,” Kimmie said on a sigh.
“It’s not just our heritage. If Mr. Kincaid were to decide he wanted more control, he has the financial resources to bankrupt us with a legal fight over his rights within the bakery. And if something were to happen to me, what would he do to you?”
Hard to argue with that. Kimmie had slunk out of the bakery every time Josh had stopped by and started conversations with, Marilyn, the bakery’s looking stale. I’m sending an interior designer to make recommendations for getting rid of these horrid white walls and, Marilyn, when your contract is up with your supply distributors, I want you to use the company we use at Sweet Dreams.
She’d missed the day he suggested changing the bakery’s name. Thank the cake gods.
General Mom blinked rapidly, and her chin wobbled. “I worry about you, Kimberly. You have never shown great interest in leading the community as I have done, or in taking managerial roles at the bakery. You could make a decent living for yourself on the strength of your baking alone, but you could be so much more. You have been blessed with genes, heritage, and the luxury of privilege because of your ancestry. I cannot allow you to take it for granted any longer, or I’ll be doing you the greater disservice. I had hoped a husband would provide balance in the management of the bakery, but that, too, seems impossible. If you don’t wish to carry Heaven’s Bakery into the next generation, then I need to make provisions for its future. But God help me, I will not surrender my bakery to a spoiled, arrogant, intolerable man like Joshua Kincaid, nor will I leave it to chance that he’ll take it over my dead body.”
These were the rare moments when Kimmie remembered that her mother was flesh and blood. With a real heart, real worries, and real feelings. Even if she had trouble expressing them.
“Mom? Are you… sick?”
The imperial eyebrow of germs dare not enter this body made an appearance. “No, Kimberly, but I am mortal. There will come a day when I’m unable to stand between you and Mr. Kincaid. He has no idea the history and the legacy not just of the bakery, but of Bliss itself. Putting him in a position of power here could ruin everything Bliss stands for. Bliss needs him gone before my time here is done.”
Kimmie hadn’t thought General Mom’s sixtieth birthday had made much of an impact on her mother. Apparently she’d been wrong. “I won’t ruin any more wedding cakes,” Kimmie whispered. “All those famous people—they made me nervous.”
Her mother sniffed imperiously, then squared her shoulders. “You’ll have to adjust. With someone as famous as Billy Brenton claiming Bliss as his second home, we’re bound to see more high-profile musicians and other stars. Including at his wedding. As businesswomen, we need to embrace the opportunities instead of letting fear paralyze us and keep us in the status quo. By the way, Mr. Kincaid’s birthday is Thursday. Any girlfriend worth her salt will be seen personally delivering him an unforgettable birthday cake.”
An image floated into Kimmie’s brain of her popping out of the huge wedding cake statue in downtown Bliss, tassels twirling on her nipples while a monkey lit firecrackers on her head.
And of the Josh Juan—debonair, sophisticated, jerkfaced Josh—liking it.
Sweet swizzle sticks, she was the worst person in the world to seduce anybody. Especially the Josh Juan. The Joshanova. The Snack Cake Romeo.
“Is there a problem, Kimberly?”
Kimmie gulped. “I was wondering—erm—what if he actually falls in love with me?” Or if I fall in love with him?
One of General Mom’s ugly smiles appeared. “Wouldn’t that be the fondant on the wedding cake? That man deserves to want something he can’t have. Study up, Kimberly, and get some rest. You have a big job ahead of you.” She gave a final nod, patted Kimmie and Boo both on the head, then showed herself out.
And while Kimmie should’ve opened her email and read up on Josh, instead, she returned to her secret coconut cream cake ball stash.
Bliss was General Mom’s life. Knot Festival, the Bridal Retailers Association, their heritage, their history. At the heart of it was Heaven’s Bakery, situated prominently in the middle of The Aisle—Bliss’s version of Main Street and the premier location for the family-owned bridal shops in Bliss, the economic heart of the town. Kimmie wouldn’t inherit General Mom’s position of running Knot Fest, the town’s huge annual wedding festival that brought in brides and grooms, guests, gawkers, and tourists. Nor would Kimmie step into her mother’s presidential shoes in the Bridal Retailers Association, but she stood a chance at running the bakery.
And General Mom was right.
Josh was an outsider who clearly didn’t understand Bliss. He didn’t understand how closely the business owners worked together on The Aisle. He didn�
�t understand how much work went into perfecting the image of Bliss—a seemingly sleepy, otherwise unremarkable town in Northern Illinois—as an ideal wedding destination location. He didn’t understand the economic importance of Knot Fest or the spirit and significance of the Husband Games and the Battle of the Boyfriends and all the other unique events Bliss hosted in the name of love.
Bliss would feel a loss when General Mom was no longer at the helm.
Josh had to go, because Kimmie wasn’t strong enough to stifle his influence the way her mother did.
For the sake of both Bliss and the bakery—her heritage, her birthright, her home—Kimmie had to fight for them.
No matter the cost.
* * *
Josh didn’t believe in having bad Mondays. Or bad any-days. A bad day was waking up cold, huddled behind a garbage can in the shade of an office building, hungry and wet, too young to work, too old to stop himself from wondering if he’d live through another day.
Waking up in a comfortable bed, showering with hot water, and going to a ridiculously well-paid job didn’t make for a bad day.
But perspective wasn’t enough tonight to keep Josh’s teeth from sitting on edge and his shoulder blades pinched so tight they almost touched. The pool table he was bent over at Kingston Ale House in Lincoln Park wouldn’t solve his problem. Neither would the hot blonde in the red minidress openly watching him from a nearby booth. And he couldn’t tell anyone, especially the yahoo currently wiping the pool table with him, what the problem was.
Josh went way back with Aiden, to the days before Josh’s mother had died. They’d been best pals from kindergarten through fourth grade, when Josh went into the system, and then out of the system, and then was adopted by the Kincaids. He’d reconnected with his buddy in high school after Birdie, the Kincaids’ longtime housekeeper, had pried an old story out of him over a lemon chiffon cake. He and Aiden had gone their separate ways for college, but kept in touch, and now Aiden worked in quality assurance with the product lab at Sweet Dreams Snack Cakes, the corporation Josh’s adopted dad had founded forty years ago.
Josh shot another look at the blonde—his reputation demanded it—then sank the nine ball in the corner pocket.
“Your girlfriend know you’re still checking out the babes?” Aiden said.
Josh checked his grimace at the mention of Kimmie Elias and turned it into his trademark ladies love me smirk. “Jealous?”
Aiden grinned. “Of what you got or what you’re looking at? The blonde here ain’t going home with you tonight, bro.” Stocky, stubborn, and serious about the Irish part of his heritage, Aiden was usually the first to throw a punch and the last to fall. He was also more likely to actually take a woman home, despite Josh’s reputation. “She wouldn’t go home with you even if you were single,” Aiden added.
“You want her, by all means, be my guest.” Until Josh got what he needed from Kimmie Elias, he had no intention of squashing the rumors in the gossip pages and small-time entertainment blogs.
Was she his usual type?
Absolutely not.
But if Josh were a master at anything, it was spin. And he could spin his relationship with Kimmie until she cracked and surrendered half a dozen cupcake recipes.
From what he knew about Kimmie, it should only take another day or two.
Fast, easy solution to the problem Josh had accidentally stumbled over at Sweet Dreams.
Would’ve been faster if he could’ve pulled the boss card and ordered Kimmie to give him some cupcake recipes, but then Marilyn would get involved, and then lawyers would get involved, and then the questions would start about why Josh wanted cupcake recipes. Far better to do this the subtle way.
Josh lined up, eyeing the distance between the cue ball and the fourteen ball. He pointed to the side pocket, then settled in and took the shot.
It bounced off the edge of the pocket.
Aiden grinned an evil SOB grin. “Nice.” He circled the pool table. “Hey, rumor’s hitting the lab about layoffs and shutdowns.”
Josh went hot under the collar. Spin, he could do. Lying to his best friend was something else. “Been six months since the last rumors. Run like clockwork, don’t they?”
Aiden snorted. “That’s what I told Ralph.”
“Ralph’s got issues.” But the truth was, Josh had issues. Clayton Kincaid, the man he called Dad and who had saved him from the streets almost twenty years ago, was even better with spin than Josh was. Probably because he had more experience. Odds were high Mom didn’t know Dad had been dipping into his retirement funds to keep Sweet Dreams running. And Mom wouldn’t have to know.
Not if Josh could make his plan work.
The sooner the better.
“Nobody in marketing’s talking, huh?” Aiden said.
“Too busy for rumors,” Josh said. It hadn’t been his intention to take a cushy job with the Kincaids’ family business—they’d done plenty for him, they hadn’t needed to coddle him through adulthood too—but he’d graduated at the top of his class at Georgetown, and he’d known he could give back what Mom and Dad had given him. He’d taken Dad’s offer, started at the bottom of the food chain, and worked his ass off.
Josh was a damn good marketer. Dad liked to say Josh could’ve convinced a plumber to buy a leak.
Aiden sank the five ball, then turned a grin on the blonde in the booth. He chalked his cue while he strolled around the table. “You tried Ralph’s Butternut Cream Clouds for the fall line?”
Josh nodded.
“Taste like shit,” Aiden said. “See why you’re busy.”
Hence the desperate need for Kimmie’s recipes. “Lots of people love that kind of shit.” Josh would’ve taken any halfway decent cake recipes, but Kimmie’s cupcakes were freaking delicious. Plus, dealing with her would be most expedient.
He needed expedient. Otherwise, Sweet Dreams was facing layoffs. Shutdowns. And God knew what would happen if the media got wind of it.
Josh had to fix this.
Esme and Clayton Kincaid, Mom and Dad, had saved his life. No way in hell would he let theirs fall apart.
If Sweet Dreams went under, it would kill them.
Josh had lost enough people in his life. He couldn’t lose them too.
His stomach rolled over again. Aiden made short work of clearing the table. Josh nodded to the booth they’d claimed in the corner. “Another round of Chandler’s Witbier on me.”
Aiden snickered, bloody Irish bastard. Josh turned, and he froze. His muscles, his skin, his bones, even his heart. All froze. Solid.
“Oh, Joshie-poo, there you are!”
Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, Kimmie Elias stopped between him and the bar, a white Heaven’s Bakery box clutched in her hands, something he would’ve called panic on any other woman making her big blue eyes bluer and wider. “I meant to get you your cupcakes yesterday, but my cats hid my cake flour, and then I got called in for a last-minute rush order for eloping triplets—wow, that was something, even for Bliss—and my fortune cookie suggested Mondays were better cupcake delivery days than Sundays anyway, so here you go.” She shoved the cupcake box at him.
Her frizzy, dark blond hair was clipped on the sides with butterfly hair thingies, her long lashes stuck together in odd black clumps, and the frilly white letters on her bright red shirt proclaimed her Cupcake Queen. She sucked half her lower lip into her mouth, then added, “Missed you, schmumpkins.” She went up on tiptoe and pecked his cheek.
She smelled like Birdie’s peppermint pinwheel cookies.
Like Christmas.
He swallowed. He needed Kimmie’s cupcake recipes too badly to let himself get hit with memories and grief. He caught Kimmie’s wrist and turned his best I’m a handsome devil and you are the lucky lady who has my attention smile on her.
If she wanted him to play her boyfriend, he’d play her boyfriend.
Whatever it took to get those recipes. “Missed you more.” He set the cupcake box on the pool t
able. “Give us a real kiss, sweetheart.”
Her back went stiff when he put his hand to it, and another flare of panic danced across her features, but then he saw the same spark he’d seen at the wedding the other day. That spark of her mother. The tilt of her chin, the square set to her shoulders, the stubborn angle of her pink lips.
Josh knew exactly what Kimmie wanted, but she was outmatched if she wanted to play the seduction game.
He wouldn’t lose to two small-town mini-mavens like Marilyn and Kimmie Elias. He’d given up losing almost twenty years ago.
Josh angled his jaw to Kimmie’s. He felt her sharp inhale and the press of her plump breasts against his chest. Her hands settled on his shoulders and squeezed—don’t do it or go on, I dare you, Josh wasn’t sure.
But he knew how to kiss a woman until she needed his kisses more than she needed to breathe. Until her bones melted. Until she gave him exactly what he wanted.
He sucked Kimmie’s lower lip into his mouth.
She squeaked, a mousy little sound that tasted like cherries.
But she didn’t pull away.
She didn’t return the kiss either.
“Mm.” He scraped his teeth over her flesh, following it with a flick of his tongue.
She jumped.
Josh lifted his head and treated her to his best slow bedroom smile. He kept his hands splayed across her back and hips, his thumbs working lazy circles on her body. “Rough day, sugar?”
Jagged red streaks raced up her cheeks. “I had a dream that dinosaurs made out of string cheese started the conga line at Knot Fest, but they melted halfway down The Aisle, which was actually on a boat somewhere in a parallel universe.”
Aiden coughed.
Kimmie’s thick lashes lowered. “Erm, that is, my day’s better now that I’m here with you.”
Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) Page 3