Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2)

by Katie Mettner

  “Now I’m holding on tight?” I asked, dropping the sundress over my head.

  “No, now you’re about to apply the lessons you learned watching me kiss those hideous frogs.”

  “I’ll let you know how it went in the morning,” I said, reaching out to end the video call.

  “No, you’ll let me know that you made it back safely. I’m your text out if you need it. I’ll stay by the phone.”

  “Okay, thanks, Hay-Hay. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Now, get out there and have some fun!”

  The screen went blank, and I shook my head at her silliness while I fastened a necklace around my neck and fixed my hair back in a long braid. I smoothed the dress down over my barely-there hips and frowned. The hitch in my left hip was so much more noticeable than it was last month. My heart started to pound in my chest, and I fought back the rising panic at the idea I was about to put myself in another dangerous situation.

  “It’s dinner with a friend, Amber,” I said to the woman in the mirror. “No big deal. Don’t make it something it isn’t.”

  I inhaled deeply and let it out before I grabbed my phone and purse then headed out the door. I was going to drive back to the bakery rather than walk the few short blocks. My leg was sore after working all day, and I was afraid I’d get halfway there and fall. I thought about my crutches sitting in the corner of the apartment, but shook it away.

  Forget it. You don’t need the crutches. Toughen up, Amber.

  I locked the apartment and followed the path around the front of the house to the sidewalk. A shooting pain jabbed me in the thigh, and I whimpered, grasping the edge of the old wooden fence to keep from falling. I bent over, dragging air into my lungs to keep from vomiting until the pain passed. This was a mistake. I should go back to the apartment and go to bed. Then I remembered I didn’t have Bishop’s number, so I couldn’t cancel the date. It would be rude to stand him up, and I refused to do that. It would only reflect poorly on my business if word got out that I had, regardless of my reasons.

  I righted myself and shook out the leg the best I could inside the brace, determined to make the most of the evening. I would have to keep it short, though. The last thing I wanted was for Bishop to see me fall or worse yet, have the leg spasm so I couldn’t walk. I heard a noise and turned my head, my gasp loud enough that the man shutting his front door heard it, too.

  “Bishop?” I asked, releasing the fence and limping around it to the driveway. “Why are you at Tyler’s place?”

  He jogged down the stairs and stopped by his driveway, pointing behind him. “I live here. I bought the place from Tyler when he moved to Wisconsin.”

  “And you just forgot to mention that you’re living next to me.”

  He swung his head immediately and pointed at my house. “I didn’t know you lived there. Mrs. Larson mentioned that she had daughters, but she never told me who they were. She said they were going off to visit a daughter in Florida, so I thought all their kids had moved away.”

  “Sure,” I said, my eyes rolling. “You’ve lived in Lake Pendle for three months and didn’t know I was your neighbor.”

  He held up his hands in defense. “I’m telling you the truth. I bought the house from Tyler sight unseen and lived in a long-term rental cabin on the lake for the first four months. The house needed so much work that I just moved in last weekend. Phyllis mentioned she had, and this is a quote, a gaggle of girls, but I didn’t know you were one of them.”

  I looked to the sky and laughed at his explanation. “That sounds like my mom. There’s my oldest sister, Jenika, who lives in Florida, which is where they headed today. My middle sister Kailey lives in St. Paul with her husband and kids. I’m the baby of the family, and they consider their foster daughter Haylee, my twin. Haylee and I own The Fluffy Cupcake together. I’m the only one who still lives here,” I explained, pointing behind me at the house.

  Another stabbing pain hit me right at that moment, and I grabbed for the fence to hold me up. Instantly, I wished like hell that I hadn’t. The old rotten wood gave way, and I ended up on the ground with both hands full of splinters and my leg in an agonizing spasm. A word not fit for a lady tore from my lips as he knelt next to me, his eyes worried while he freed me from the fence.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, but all I could do was moan to hold back the rest of the cuss words waiting to spill out.

  Before I could blink, he scooped me up and strode toward his house. “Please put me down,” I cried, the pain in my leg agonizing where he held it against his arm.

  “Two seconds,” he promised, turning the handle on his front door and then lowering me to the couch.

  I grabbed my thigh, only to hiss when I remembered the pieces of wood in my hands. “Fuck my life,” I moaned, my hands shaking as I held them out. My jumbled brain couldn’t decide what to do, so I just sat there, my entire body shaking and a tear falling down my cheek.

  “We’re going to fix this,” Bishop said as he inspected my hands. “Damn, these are some big splinters, but at least I can pull them with a tweezer. Hang tight.”

  He disappeared into the kitchen, and I moaned again, my leg absolutely done for the day. I knew this was a bad idea. I should have listened to my body. Instead, I’m going to die of embarrassment on my neighbor’s couch. I was going to swing my legs down off the couch and leave, but I couldn’t decide if I’d even make it to the door, much less to my apartment. Bishop strode back into the room, his muscular thighs carrying him without a second thought, which made me jealous. The way the muscles bunched beneath his pants made me hot and bothered, but I wasn’t going to think too much about that.

  “Just relax. I’ll have you fixed up in no time,” he promised, going to work on the splinters with the tweezer from the first aid kit. “I was going to ask your mom about that fence. I realized what bad shape it was in, but I wasn’t sure which one of us owned it.”

  He pulled a particularly stubborn splinter, and I inhaled sharply, his head coming up immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be as careful as I can be.”

  “It’s okay,” I answered, wishing I could fall through the couch and melt away into the ground. “It was dumb to grab the fence.”

  He lowered my right hand to the couch and reached across me for my left, his arm brushing my belly and leaving a trail of blazing heat across my skin. I swallowed around the lump in my throat when he rested his arm on my hip bone with his head bowed to finish the splinter removal. It hurt so much I bit my lip to keep from crying out. “It’s human nature to try to catch yourself when you start to fall. I should have asked about that fence sooner.”

  I squeaked, and he glanced up when I started breathing staccato to kill the pain.

  “What?”

  “Hip,” I forced out. “Arm on hip.”

  His arm came up instantly, and he grasped my face, forcing me to hold his gaze. “Breathe in slowly. You have to breathe slowly, or you’re going to pass out.”

  I followed his directions until the pain passed. “That’s better,” I promised, offering him a weak smile.

  He released my face and went back to my hand, making sure his arm didn’t touch me anywhere. “We’re almost done here. Do you know who owns the fence?”

  I knew he was trying to take my mind off the pain, so I nodded and took another deep breath. “We own it. Dad and I talked about that fence about a week ago, and he agreed it needs to come down. He planned to remove it when he got back and mark the property at the front and the back. It looks like I just accelerated that plan. I’ll ask Brady to help me pull the rest of it out, so it’s not an eyesore.”

  “Who’s Brady?” he asked, his brow going down toward his nose.

  “He’s a baker at The Fluffy Cupcake. He’s married to my best friend, who is the other baker.”

  “Haylee, right? Your sister from another mister?” he asked, grasping the last splinter.

  “Darla McFinkle,” I spat. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the
venom from my voice whenever I said her name. “She deserves to rot in jail for trying to kill Haylee.”

  “I can’t disagree,” he said, setting the tweezer down before he handed me an antiseptic wipe. “I’ll let you do this part. I don’t like hurting beautiful women.”

  I smiled weakly and accepted the wipe from him. “Thanks for the help with the splinters. That will save me some pain tomorrow when I have to pan all those cupcakes.” I swiped at my hands with the wipe, biting my lip to keep from grimacing at the stinging sensation. I scrubbed at them until the dirt was gone, and all that was left were little red dots.

  He grabbed a tube of ointment and squirted some on his finger, gently rubbing it into my palms while he spoke. “I have a lot of experience pulling out splinters. As a teacher, I’m always playing doctor. I have to say that you’re about two decades older than most of my patients and a hell of a lot easier on the eyes, though.”

  I chuckled while he wrapped gauze around my hands. “Thanks, I think. I don’t even know what you teach.”

  “Physical education and English,” he said, glancing up when I laughed aloud.

  “That’s,” I paused, searching for the right word, “different.”

  “It’s unusual, I know, but hear me out. I love teaching physical education, but there aren’t always a lot of job openings. I got a minor in English so I could teach both. That way, if I ever needed a job—”

  “You had a fallback plan,” I finished, and he pointed at me from where he sat on the coffee table.

  “Bingo. I’m only teaching one unit of English at the high school here. The rest of the day, I teach elementary physical education.”

  “Best of both worlds?” I asked, my hands wanting to grab my aching leg, but my steel willpower held onto my pride. I didn’t want him to see that I was still in pain. Who was I kidding? I just didn’t want to look weak in front of him, or anyone, for that matter.

  “In this case, yes. I love the little kids, but it’s not exciting to teach them English, at least in my opinion. I prefer teaching them how to be physically active and healthy, while I save discussions about literature for the high schoolers.”

  “Hmm,” I said, nodding my head to block out the pain in my leg and hands, “I see your point. Book discussions about Ramona Quimby wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as book discussions about Don Quixote.”

  “Not even close,” he agreed, a smile pulling his lips upward. “The arrangement makes me appreciate the mentorship program that Lake Pendle has. I get to see my fourth graders interacting with my seniors in positive ways. If you think the fourth graders are the only ones who get anything out of the deal, as I did at first, you’d be wrong.”

  I chuckled and tried to straighten out my leg without it spasming again. “I’m a Lake Pendle graduate. I was part of the program as a first and fourth-grader and again as a freshman and senior. I know exactly what you mean. I got more out of it in high school than I did in elementary school. I loved coming back in as an upperclassman and participating in the program from a different standpoint.”

  “Everything had changed over those years, right?” he asked on a chuckle.

  “Not everything,” I corrected, “but a lot of things, yeah. Anyway, thanks for helping with my hands. I should go.”

  He frowned and motioned to the kitchen. “Why don’t I order in for dinner? I’m sure you don’t feel like going out, but The Modern Goat delivers.”

  I swung my legs down and sat up, waiting to see if my leg was going to behave long enough to get me home. “Thanks, but I kind of just want to go home. I’m not feeling that great. I’m sorry.”

  He pushed himself up off the coffee table and helped me up, his smile kind when he spoke. “I understand, Amber, you don’t have to apologize. Let me help you back to your apartment.”

  I took a step, relieved when my leg held me up with no problem other than the constant ache. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine,” I promised, walking to the door with as much dignity as I could muster after the last thirty minutes of moaning on his couch—and not the right kind of moaning.

  Bishop held my elbow all the way to the door and then opened it for me, without relinquishing my arm. He helped me down the stairs and to the edge of the driveway, where he finally dropped his hand. “If you think your dad would be okay with it, I’m happy to pull this fence down—no sense in bothering Brady when I’m off for the next three months. I’ll get rid of the debris and just leave a marker at the front, middle and back. Not that I care about the property line, I’m not about owning every last inch of my land, but I know the county cares.”

  I nodded and smiled at his offer. “I appreciate that. I’m sure Brady and my dad will, too.” My mom’s comment about the meat in the freezer ran through my head, so I paused by the sidewalk. “Since I owe you a mulligan on dinner, if you want to wait until Saturday afternoon, I’d be happy to help you and then grill some steaks or burgers to make up for tonight.”

  He bounced up on his toes and smiled. “I’d like that, Amber. I’m sorry you ended up in pain tonight. That certainly wasn’t the plan when I asked you to dinner.”

  I plastered a smile on my face and tried to act cool. “That’s me, a colossal klutz. I should be the one apologizing for ruining your dinner plans.”

  “I’m not worried about it, but I am worried about you. Are you going to be okay at home alone? Maybe you should call Haylee?”

  I darted toward the side of the house as quickly as my leg allowed. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the first aid. I’ll see you Saturday afternoon. I’m done at the bakery about two.”

  Before he could answer, I unlocked the door to my apartment and slipped inside, sliding it closed. “That was an even bigger disaster than anything I could have predicted,” I said to the empty room as I stripped my dress off and tossed it in the laundry bin.

  I stood in front of the mirror, the lights of the bathroom putting the reason for said disaster on display. With a sigh, I turned the water on in the shower and climbed in, letting the hot water soothe the sore muscles that still quivered from pain and fatigue.

  The tears swirling down the drain had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with fatigue. My heart was tired, and after almost seventeen years, I should be used to it, but something told me I never would be.

  Three

  Haylee breezed through the door from the back of the bakery, grasped my hand, and helped me to her office. “Um, it’s lunchtime. Who’s going to watch the store?” I asked as she pointed at the chair across from hers in the tiny room. It was once a broom closet, literally.

  “Brady. He said he’s ready to schmooze the old ladies into buying some bread and buns.”

  I laughed and leaned back in the chair, sipping the lemonade she had waiting for me. I smacked my lips when I swallowed. “Thanks, I needed that. The question is, can I trust Brady with the cupcakes left in the case? He’s always stealing them.”

  “You know you can’t trust him with the cupcakes, but we’ll overlook the ones he eats since he’s helping us out. You need a break, and I need to talk to you.”

  I leaned forward and motioned for her to speak. “Whatever you need,” I said instantly. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not with me, no,” she answered, a brow up in the air.

  “You’re implying there’s something wrong with me.” It wasn’t a question since that would have been unnecessary. It was obvious she was talking about my leg.

  “You’re the one who mentioned needing to talk to me before your date the other night. Here it is Saturday, and you still haven’t talked to me.”

  I tapped the desk twice with my finger. “As a matter of fact, I have another date with Bishop tonight.”

  “You do?” she asked, and I could tell she was trying not to sound too excited, but she was totally failing at it.

  “Well, it’s like a working date, but it involves food, so...”

  “A working date?”

  I grimaced and held up my hands whe
re the red dots from the splinters were still visible. “He’s going to take our fence out today. Since I knocked down half of it the other night, now the rest of it has to go. I promised to help as much as I could, but mostly I’ll be grilling steaks while he does the grunt work.”

  “Your dad finally agreed to pull that old thing down?” she asked with surprise. “I swear he thought it was an antique or something.”

  I laughed and shook my head, letting my eyes drift to the ceiling. “I think he was hoping it would come down with a heavy snow or wind storm, so he didn’t have to work too hard at it. It gave way the second I leaned on it, so I don’t think Bishop will struggle to get it out. That eyesore has got to go.”

  “What are we really talking about here, Amber?” she asked, her head tipped to the side.

  I glanced around and then back to her face. “Uh, the fence? It needs to go now that I smashed the front half of it.”

  “I’ll send a cake for dinner tonight with my thanks to Bishop,” she said dryly.

  “I detect sarcasm.”

  She held her fingers close together. “Just a tiny amount. I want to know what happened the other night. You haven’t been forthcoming.”

  “I told you, I fell on the fence and had to cancel the date.”

  “What you aren’t telling me is why you fell on the fence. Though, I’m pretty sure I only need one guess.”

  I sighed and leaned back in the chair again. “I was tired after a long day on my feet—”

  “And you didn’t bring your crutches with you.”

  “They wouldn’t have saved me,” I said quickly. “I knew I should have canceled the date, but I didn’t have his number.”

  “Then, you discovered he’s your neighbor.”

  “Imagine my surprise,” I added, playing her sarcasm card. “Good chat,” I said, standing.

  She pointed at the chair like I was a child. “It’s not over.”