Tart
The Fluffy Cupcake Book Two
Katie Mettner
Copyright 2020 Katie Mettner
All rights reserved for this book its content, including the cover art by Forward Authority Design. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books by Katie Mettner
Dedication
For the real Amber.
When I think about writing a funny best friend, you’re always the gal to pop into my head. Thanks for always making me laugh!
One
My name is Amber Phyllis Larson, and my dirty little secret is that I’m terrified of thunderstorms. Embarrassing for a woman of thirty to admit, but there it is in a nutshell. At three a.m. on a Wednesday morning in late May, it was dark, the skies were heavy with rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance over Lake Pendle. We shouldn’t have to deal with thunderstorms this early in the season in Minnesota, but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that.
I popped a pod of coffee into the machine and waited while it spit the rich, black coffee into my travel mug. Whoever said the early bird gets the worm had never worked in a bakery for almost ten years. I didn’t just work in a bakery for nearly ten years, though. I’d been the co-owner of The Fluffy Cupcake with my best friend, Haylee, for all ten of those bliss-filled years. She was recently married to Brady Pearson, her partner in crime at the baker’s bench and now in life. That left me, the only one of the dynamic duo to remain single, much to my mother’s chagrin. Unlike Haylee or my mother, I didn’t see being single at thirty as the end of the world.
I chuckled to myself when I snapped the lid on my travel mug and turned off the kitchen light. Last year, Haylee decided she had to be in a committed relationship before she turned thirty. She made that resolution on New Year’s Eve, which only gave her seven months and thirteen days to find Mr. Wonderful. Haylee was so focused on her goal that she was too obtuse to see that the perfect guy was already right in front of her face. So, I set her up with every guy I knew she wouldn’t be able to tolerate for more than an hour, much less forever. I’m happy to report my plan worked. If she ever found out I tortured her on purpose, she wouldn’t be amused, but sometimes, we need a little help to see what is directly in front of our face.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a deep breath before I opened the door to my apartment. With any luck, I’d make it to the bakery before it started to storm any harder. I hated driving in lightning and thunder. Childish, I know, but if you’d lived my life the last seventeen years, you’d understand. I stuffed my thin athletic frame inside the car and slammed the door. Haylee was always jealous of the fact that I could eat anything I wanted from the bakery case without gaining a pound. I was always jealous of the fact that she had curves. What she saw as a negative feature, I would kill to have. Women are funny that way, I guess.
I shut off the engine in front of the bakery as the first drop of rain hit the windshield of my Subaru. I grabbed my purse and mug, limped to the door, and made it under the awning as the skies opened up and the rain sluiced down. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the smell of fresh bread and cakes hit me straight in the face. The scent was always like coming home. I loved that I worked in a place that brought so many people joy day after day, but I loved the people I worked with even more.
“Hey, Amber!” Brady yelled from the back of the bakery. “Glad you beat the rain in.”
“Barely,” I said as the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. I darted away from the window and to the back of the bakery where I couldn’t see it. I never said I wasn’t a chicken. “Where’s Hay-Hay?” I asked, grabbing my apron off the hook after I put my purse in the office.
“In the cooler. We have cupcakes coming out of our ears and no place to put them.”
I pointed at him. “That’s why I came in early. I figured you guys were going to be scrambling to get the order ready for the school this morning.”
Brady laughed and went back to his bread kneading. “Scrambling is an understatement. I’m sure she would appreciate the help. I have to finish the standing bread and bun orders.”
Brady had become a master baker last summer and was now in charge of all the bread baking for The Fluffy Cupcake. Haylee was in charge of the pastries, cakes, and cupcakes, which meant with an order the size she had today, she was going to need help, or our bakery case would be empty this morning.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and I darted for the cooler, glad Brady had his back to me. Did I mention that I hate storms? I grabbed a jacket off the hook and slipped it on, then opened the cooler door and stepped in. I wasn’t upset to be in the cooler. It was our safe place for severe weather, and you couldn’t see the lightning inside.
“Hey, cupcake,” I said, gazing at the scene before me. “It looks like a cupcake apocalypse in here.”
Haylee stood up and blew out a breath, and it rustled the hair that had fallen over her forehead. “Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“I don’t know what the problem is, Hay-Hay. I mean, forty-one dozen cupcakes are like no big deal,” I said, flipping my hand around while I imitated her. “That’s what you told me when I asked if I should take the order this year.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to her cupcake counting. “It’s not a big deal when I thought I was going to make generic cupcakes. When I found out they wanted the school logo on each one, then it became a big deal.”
I peeked at the tray of cupcakes closest to me and grinned. “They look great, though! Look at the cute penguins.” We were called the Lake Pendle Penguins, and even growing up here, I never entirely understood it. We don’t have penguins in Minnesota.
“They’re cute, but they’re a pain in my gigantic ass,” she muttered, putting together another cake box to start packing cupcakes. At this rate, it will only take nine hundred boxes to transport them all to the school. Okay, that was dramatic. It will only take thirteen. I started putting together another box and helped her move all of the cupcakes from pans to boxes.
“I know the kids at the elementary school are going to love them, Hay-Hay. They’re cute, and we all know they’re going to be delicious.” Another boom of thunder shook the cooler, and I leaned back against the shelf, covering my ears and waiting for it to pass before I started packing again. I didn’t want to drop a cupcake and get in trouble with the baker.
Haylee came over and rubbed my back a couple of times. “You’re okay. The weatherman said it’s just passing showers and storms today. Nothing severe.”
I nodded and let out the breath I’d been holding. “You know I’m a chickenshit, but I’ll be fine.”
She started on the next box of cupcakes. “You’re not a chickenshit. You went through a lot, and
you’re entitled to carry scars because of it.”
We packed the next four boxes of cupcakes in silence, my fingers able to count the forty-eight cupcakes for each box without even having to think about it. When most of them were packed, I glanced around the almost empty cooler.
“There’s not much product here for the case,” I observed.
Haylee pointed out the door of the cooler. “Able Baker Brady is baking off all the cupcakes and cakes we need for today. They should be cooling on the racks by now. I’ll decorate everything when I finish here. I kept it simple for today since we had all of these cupcakes going out the door. It’s Tuesday, so three flavors of cupcakes will be enough.”
“I should have known you had it under control,” I said on a head shake. “You’ve never not had it under control.”
She frowned, and her eyes clouded for a moment. “Well, there was that one time.”
My arms went around her for a gentle hug. “And that one time wasn’t your fault.”
It was just a few days before Haylee’s birthday last July when Darla McFinkle attacked her. She thought Haylee had cost her the title of Strawberry Fest Princess, but at nearly thirty, it was pathetic that Darla was even running for the crown. Darla always did what Darla wanted to do, though. She’d bullied Haylee her entire life, and it culminated with Darla trying to kill my best friend behind our bakery. If Brady hadn’t found her when he did, Darla might have succeeded. I was so glad she was still here with me every day.
“Have you heard anything about the trial?” I asked, sliding the last box onto the rack we’d push out to the delivery van later.
She grimaced, and her eyes went to the ceiling. “Jury selection starts next week. She’s hired the best attorney in the state, so she’ll probably walk.”
“Where does she get the money to pay for that?” I asked, stymied. “She hasn’t worked a day in her pathetic thirty years of life.”
“Daddy,” Haylee said, her eyes rolling. “Daddy has always spoiled her. He’s the reason she’s the way she is now.”
“A murderer,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Innocent until proven guilty, Amber,” she reminded me, and we both broke down into a fit of giggles.
“Hard to pretend you’re innocent when you leave the knife you stabbed someone with in your bathtub, and your DNA all over their body.”
“I’m sure she will find a way to twist it in her favor. She always does. Anyway, I think we’re done here.” She pointed at the cupcakes, but I knew she was talking about the discussion regarding Darla. She didn’t like to talk about it, not that I could blame her, so I nodded my head in agreement.
“We’re ready. Once Taylor comes in, I’ll have Brady help me load these, and I’ll deliver them. That way, you can finish your work.”
She slung her arm over my shoulders and squeezed me. “Thanks, bestie. I appreciate it. You’re better at schmoozing with people than I am anyway.”
“That’s what makes us a great team,” I said, throwing her a wink and heading to the front of the bakery to start the day.
THE LAKE PENDLE SCHOOL District consisted of three schools in different areas of the town. Lake Pendle Elementary sat near the lake in a sprawling brick building that had been around for only a few decades. It was built new in the nineties to replace an old building past its prime and fire codes. The new building was a source of pride for the community, with windows in all the classrooms, interior computer labs, and a beautiful gymnasium. There was no doubt that the Lake Pendle Littles, as they’re referred to, get a state-of-the-art education. I don’t have kids, but I do know technology is more important than anything now that our world runs on it.
Today’s event was for the Lake Pendle Littles and their Bigs. The elementary and high school partner together in a program to offer mentoring, support, friendship, and encouragement between schools. A high school freshman is paired with a first-grader, and they spend the next four years together, culminating in a graduation ceremony at the elementary for the fourth graders going to the middle school and the high schoolers moving on to college or transitioning to work life. It was a favorite event of the community, and in a few more hours, this place was going to be packed. Luckily for me, at just a little past seven, it was quiet, other than staff preparing for the day. Thankfully, the storms had petered out and left us with just a few rain showers on this Friday morning. Delivering thirteen giant boxes of cupcakes was easier when it wasn’t raining, for obvious reasons.
I slammed the doors shut on the van and pushed the cart toward the side door of the elementary school, where deliveries were made to Cook Cramer. I swear Mrs. Cramer was timeless. She’d been cooking here since I was a kid, and since I’m thirty, that’s a lot of years. In truth, I went to school with her kids, so she’s not that old, but she is one of the most beloved figures in this school for both her fantastic food and her sweet nature. She didn’t have time to make forty dozen cupcakes, though.
“Oaf,” I said, nearly coming to a complete halt and grabbing boxes of cupcakes as they started to slide off the cart. “What the hell?” I exclaimed, standing with the last box before it hit the ground.
I stared into a face that was as surprised as mine was. “Sorry,” the guy said, taking the box from my shaking hands and sliding it back onto the cart. “I had my back turned and didn’t know you were coming.”
“You couldn’t hear the cart with the one rattling wheel coming up behind you?” I asked hotly. “I don’t think the kids are going to appreciate smashed cupcakes for graduation. You were probably on your phone.”
He held it up sheepishly, and I huffed. “I was, but in my defense, I was arguing with a teenager.” Before I could answer, he stuck his hand out. “Bishop Halla.”
I reluctantly shook his hand but didn’t smile. “Amber Larson. Halla. That’s?”
“Finnish,” he answered, hitting the doorbell by the kitchen door so Mrs. Cramer knew someone was waiting.
“I should have known since we are in Minnesota,” I said, chuckling. Another crack of thunder filled the air, and I jumped, sliding under the awning over the door while silently begging Cook Cramer to hurry up.
“That’s a long way away,” he said casually.
“I know. Are you here for a reason?” I asked, wondering why he was hanging around.
He pointed at the door. “I’m a teacher. I’ll go in this way, too.”
“If you’re a teacher here, don’t you have a key?”
The door opened, and Mrs. Cramer peeked her head out. “Oh, Amber!”
“Hi, Mrs. Cramer. The Fluffy Cupcake has arrived with your, well, fluffy cupcakes.”
She clapped excitedly and propped the door open. “You know it’s graduation day when the cupcakes show up! Hey, good morning, Mr. Halla,” she said, acknowledging the man standing next to me as she peered into a box. Her grin grew when she spotted all the penguins in their cuteness. “Adorable as always. Haylee is a cupcake goddess.”
“You know it! I have thirteen of these boxes.”
“I already made space. I’ll unload this cart while you get the next load. There’s another cart over there,” she said, pointing to a metal cart by the wall. “You have about twenty minutes before the buses arrive and the kids start streaming in.”
“I better move then,” I said, heading to the door. “I don’t want to be accosted by three-foot-tall cupcake thieves.”
The man who I had forgotten was still standing there laughed heartily. “You’ve got them pegged. How about if I help you with the other boxes, and we’ll make quick work of it?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said instantly, grabbing the cart after swapping mine out with Mrs. Cramer. “You have work to do, I’m sure.”
He set his bag and coffee mug down just inside the door of the kitchen and shrugged. “I can’t do much until the kids arrive. Maybe if I help you bring the rest in, I’ll feel less guilty about almost ruining the cupcakes.”
I eyed him up and down
then. He was ridiculously handsome standing there in his button-up dress shirt and tie. The pink pinstriped shirt was tucked into his dress slacks, and his feet were adorned in a pair of Hush Puppies. The look was trendy and hip, but that wasn’t what sucked me in. His face did that all by itself. His eyes were a luscious garnet green that drew you in and held you in his atmosphere whenever he spoke. Dammit. I was a sucker for green eyes. I could feel my resolve weakening about letting him help. He wore a beard tightly clipped to his skin, his hair slicked back and blended in to meet the beard, and a pair of lips that could kiss the heck out of you without breaking a sweat. Where the heck did that come from, Amber?
I realized I was staring at him, so I shrugged nonchalantly—so as not to look like I cared what he did—and started pushing the cart toward the van. “Suit yourself,” I said as he walked beside me.
“I haven’t seen you around before, Amber,” he said, making conversation as we loaded the cart up with boxes.
“Then you must be new here. I’ve lived in Lake Pendle my entire life, and I run the bakery on Main Street. You don’t have to look hard to find me.”
He rose to his full height of over six feet, and I whimpered a little. He was good enough to eat. I loved a tall, handsome man with a pair of eyes to lose myself in at the end of the day. He was all of that and then some, which meant he had to be taken. Also, I’d sworn off men after the last debacle I’d dealt with over the winter.
He brushed off his hands and smiled. If possible, his smile made him even more handsome, and his straight white teeth weren’t creepy when they peeked out from between his lips. Cripes. I desperately need to get laid. I was ogling this guy like he was a fine cut of meat from Butcher Don’s shop.
“I’m new here and haven’t had time to investigate the bakery. You’re always closed when I’m done with work, and I’ve been so busy setting up house on the weekends I keep forgetting to take a break.”
Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2) Page 1