Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) (16 page)

The thought curdled his stomach.

Natalie was right. It would mean the world to Kimmie for a guy to marry her and stand up at the Husband Games and play for her.

But that guy wasn’t Josh. All Josh could honestly offer her was making sure Marilyn backed the hell off.

Regardless of what Kimmie decided about giving him cupcake recipes.

The cat she called Boo skittered under the dining nook table and attacked a rice carton that had fallen off the table last night. She popped back out, head stuck inside the carton, pranced in a circle, then crashed into the wall.

Kimmie’s life made Josh’s look boring.

He plucked the carton off the cat’s head, then went to investigate another noise in the living room. But he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.

Kimmie was bent over, cupcake-shorts-clad ass in the air, curly hair dangling to the ground, arms stretched in front of her in a yoga pose. Her breasts hung free beneath her thin T-shirt. The smooth skin on her belly called to his fingers. Her rib cage expanded and contracted in an unexpectedly erotic rhythm. Peep walked in a circle around her, but Kimmie stayed in her pose.

After a bit, she walked her hands to her feet, then gripped her ankles, bent nearly in half.

Josh’s groin stirred.

She was fucking flexible.

She released her hold on her ankles and slowly pulled herself to standing, then reached for the ceiling, palms together, chest out.

Josh held his breath.

The lines of her arm muscles were subtle. So were the outlines of her leg muscles. But they were there. She wasn’t just flexible.

She was strong.

And it was an odd and unexpected turn-on.

Again.

How many times had Kimmie unexpectedly turned him on in the last two weeks?

He couldn’t remember. Too many to count.

She hadn’t noticed him. Her rib cage moved, slow and steady, in and out. She tilted her arms, her hands, her shoulders, her whole upper body sideways toward him. And then she stopped. And held herself still, except for the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, the subtle movement in her chest.

He swallowed.

Then swallowed again. More blood surged to his groin.

Delayed morning wood, that was all.

An odd side effect of spending too much time in Bliss.

She’d put something in her cupcakes last night.

Damn good cupcakes.

She pulled herself straight again, took a deep breath in, then out, and then tilted to the other side. He took in the curve of her backside, the flex of her thighs, and he fled to the dining nook.

Out of sight.

Not out of mind.

He pulled up his email and reread the message from his mom.

Bring Kimmie to dinner. Such a sweet girl. We’d love to see her again.

Didn’t seem that bad of a proposition.

Which was a problem.

The coffee maker burped. Josh bolted into the kitchen, found a mug that didn’t have teddy bears or cupcakes or tiaras on it, and poured himself a cup. Then he sat at his computer and forced himself to stare at his formal proposal for the new snack cake line that Dad had told him to work up the other day.

“Oh, good, you found the coffee.”

Josh looked up.

Kimmie gave him a hesitant smile, then slowly lowered herself into the chair across from him. She’d tied her hair at her nape, but wisps circled her head. Her eyes were clear, if not as bright as they’d been yesterday, her skin glowing.

She still hadn’t put on a bra.

His dick stirred again. “Any good dreams?” he said.

“Nothing as good as the intergalactic princess dream.” She shifted in her chair, and he realized she was tucking her legs up under her. “I was thinking about things, and it shouldn’t be hard to convince my mom that telling Bliss that you own half the bakery is the best way to get rid of you. Half the town has already threatened you, right? I can tell her I was going for power in numbers. More people to convince you to leave. Since I, erm, failed at the whole seduction thing.”

Ironic, with him sitting there unable to suppress a woody. “She’ll believe that?”

“I’m incapable of lying to my mother.”

He lifted a brow.

“Disappointing as it is, she knows I’m a cupcake. I’ll never sprout tiers or be worthy of being wrapped in a whole sheet of fondant and then topped with flowers and a bride and groom statue.”

His lips parted. “You believe that bullshit?”

“I don’t know.” She sucked half of her full, pink bottom lip into her mouth. “I cowered in my room and let you handle her yesterday morning. That’s pretty cupcakey.”

Josh rubbed a hand over his eyes. He’d provoked Marilyn, and he couldn’t deny it. Marilyn wouldn’t have had reason to blow up yesterday if Josh wasn’t smack-dab in the middle of their lives. “You’re running a dirty cupcake business under her nose. That takes balls.”

“I prefer to say it takes caramel fudge filling.”

Of course she did. He huffed out a half chuckle. “Point is, you’re more than your mother gives you credit for.”

She had that agitated, about-to-spit-out-a-dream look on her face again. “There’s more.”

He shut his laptop. “Go on.”

“I’ve decided to take your cupcake offer.”

His heart jumped, and his jaw worked up and down.

That was relatively easy.
Too
easy. “You sure?”

“My mother can’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“But I was thinking about your equipment—” a jagged blush crept up her cheeks, as if she were thinking of his
personal
equipment “—and I can’t just hand you a recipe and expect it’ll work, and I don’t think any of the recipes that are
mine
will work on your machinery thingies. So I’ll need a week or two.”

This was Kimmie. She was the cake whisperer. No doubt, she’d have them done and running on the lab test equipment within three days of starting. “We can probably work with that.”

“And as for buying my mom out… She’s really busy with Knot Fest stuff. I’ll talk to her, but I need some time. And
you
can’t be there. Don’t even offer.”

“There goes your caramel fudge filling again,” he murmured.

She blushed deeper, but she didn’t break eye contact. “And I want my lawyer to look at my contract with Sweet Dreams, or my agreement with you, before I sign it.”

“Ah, there’s your mother coming out.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Do you want to do business with me or not?”

He grinned. He couldn’t help himself. She was freaking adorable. “Absolutely, sugar.”

“Quit calling me
sugar
.” She started to stand, but then paused. “One last thing.”

“Yes?”

“If I get my mom to agree to sell me her half of the bakery, is there any possibility, sometime in the future, that you might sell me your half too?”

The girl wasn’t a cupcake. She was a shark in a cupcake wrapper. She just didn’t know it.

And that was yet another odd turn-on. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

She flashed him a sweet, honest smile. “Thank you. Oh! And I want the business plan you offered too.”

“Got it right here.”

“And one of Santa Claus’s reindeer.”

“One of—”

Her laughter echoed off the walls. “Gotcha.”

She did.

In a strange, unexpected way, she had a piece of him. Which piece, he was afraid to name. But she had it.

K
immie was well
aware that cupcakes weren’t supposed to have any business sense.

But she’d heard her mother discussing business issues—payroll, supplies, cake prices, seasonal fluctuations, insurance, competition, emergencies—for years. And she’d had a front-row seat to the disaster of the flood five years ago, watching her mother’s shock of barely having enough flood insurance to cover repairs to Heaven’s Bakery, and then the double-whammy of seeing that the Knot Fest and Bridal Retailers Association coffers weren’t deep enough to cover replacing and repairing the supplies and infrastructure needed to run Knot Festival with the degree of perfection General Mom demanded of everything she did.

Kimmie couldn’t deliver that same kind of perfection, but she knew more than she let people believe. And before breakfast was halfway over, she suspected Josh was catching on.

But he waited until they’d both sat back from their syrup-coated plates, and until he had a second cup of coffee, before he called her on it. “Does your mother know you’re competent enough to run Heaven’s Bakery?”

“Did you see my fortune cookie last night? I’ve
never
gotten one that said ‘Good things come to those who bake’ before. That’s a sign, right?”

“Quit cupcaking me, sugar.”

She was sure she was imagining the warmth in his deep, crinkly eyes, but her belly did a flip and high-fived her heart, as though she truly
had
succeeded in making him like her.

“Anyway, it’ll probably take my lawyer some time to work up the papers,” Kimmie said. “I can email it to you when it’s done. But you don’t need to waste your whole day here if you have other things to do.”

His grip visibly tightened on his coffee mug, and he watched her with that intense stare-through-her-to-her-cupcake-heart gaze. As though he were trying to decide if she wanted to get rid of him or if she didn’t believe he had nothing better to do than to spend another day with her. “My mom wants you to come to dinner Saturday night,” he said.

Kimmie’s pulse amped up faster than beaters whipping cream. He said it as though
he
wanted her to come too.

Or maybe she was reading too much into him tucking her into bed last night. “She does?”

He nodded.

“How’s she, erm, feeling?”

“She’s great. Just a little bruise.” He set his cup down. “She’s been telling all the single women at the club that if that’s what you do to women you
like
, God forbid you find out which ones of them have made passes at me. It’s gotten rather boring stopping by for lunch.”

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped his head and laughed. “Ah, Kimmie. Life is fun with you around.”

That was a total Joshanova thing to say, but it didn’t have the Joshanova tone.

In fact, he seemed to mean it.

She probably needed to ask Lindsey to add a clause in the contract with Josh that he wasn’t allowed to smile at her during working hours.

Or laugh. Definitely no laughing.

Kimmie’s heart couldn’t handle it.

“I have a committee meeting for the Miss Flower Girl and Miss Junior Bridesmaid pageants this afternoon, but I’ll call my, erm, lawyer about that agreement. And I’ll get started on a—”

A knock cut her off.

Boo started and fell off the chair next to Kimmie, but Peep didn’t freak, so it obviously wasn’t General Mom.

Still, Josh was on his feet, headed to the door, acting as her guard dog. Again. “You’re very popular.”

Arthur stood on the other side of the door. He and Josh gave each other a male once-over that usually resulted in Neanderthal grunts and arm wrestling.

Kimmie might not have had much experience with men getting primitive over
her
, but she
had
lived and worked in a bridal town all her life. “Oh, hey, Arthur,” she said. “Have you had breakfast? I made pancakes. We ate them all, but I can make more. It’s easier and quicker than cupcakes. Healthier too. Unless you go crazy with the syrup. And I have bananas.”

Josh stood aside and let Arthur in, but they continued their silent communication thing. The two men were about the same height, Arthur dark and distinguished to Josh’s dapper and dangerous. Arthur broke the stare-down to loop Kimmie in a one-armed hug that he topped with a fatherly kiss to her hair. “You doing okay?” he asked gruffly.

“Yep. Peachy. Totally great. Happy as can be.”

Arthur sighed. He pulled back and studied her. “I’m working on your mother.” His gaze slid to Josh. “Would help if her buttons weren’t being pushed.”

“That was my fault,” Kimmie said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said… what I said… at Suckers Friday night.”

“Not your fault, Kimmie,” Josh said.

Arthur eyed Josh harder. “Glad to see you’re not the total selfish bastard Marilyn says you are.”

“I might be.”

Kimmie put her hands out between them. “
Stop
. We’re all going to be friends. Okay? Shake. Now.
Nicely
.”

Josh’s lips quirked in a half grin.

Arthur chuckled. “Should try that on your mother.” He held a hand out to Josh. “Hurt her, and—”

“And all of Bliss will burn down my house, picket my place of employment, castrate me, feed horrible rumors to the society section of the
Windy City Daily
, and get me blacklisted from every online dating site in the world, including that god-awful MisterGoodEnough.com. Got it.”

He took Arthur’s hand, and the two of them shook.

Civilly.

With something akin to mutual respect on each of their faces.

That was almost scary.

“I had a dream that was like Peter Pan, but with vampires, except the vampires were bunnies who pooped glowing marshmallows,” Kimmie blurted.

“Last night?” Josh asked.

“No, a week or so ago.”

“What do you eat before you go to bed?”

“Um, candy canes and frog hearts?”

There went that dangerous better-than-a-Joshanova chuckle. Kimmie shivered.

And then she noticed the odd look Arthur was giving her, and she shivered again.

Worse.

Because Arthur’s look was too similar to the odd look Lindsey had at the Cubs game after she saw Kimmie and Josh together. And Kimmie had been doing a respectable job of actively not thinking about Lindsey and her psychic matchmaking powers and what that look might or might not mean. Because Kimmie’s heart had a maximum speed, and she didn’t know what would happen if it overheated.

“Are you going to marry my mom?” Kimmie blurted.

Josh shuddered.

Arthur’s smile turned into a thoughtful frown. “Did she tell you I was?”

“Not
soon
.” Kimmie’s cheeks were getting hot again. “But I know my mom, and I think she thinks…” She trailed off and let him fill in the rest.

In February, Lindsey had given Arthur her reluctant approval on his relationship with General Mom. Kimmie had been there. She’d heard it. Lindsey thought they were a good match.

She kinda knew those things, in a way that gave Kimmie the somebody-poured-salt-on-my-grave shivers.

“Not all relationships have to have wedding bells attached.” Arthur squeezed Kimmie’s arm. “I’ll be here for you no matter what, but if and when your mother and I get married, we’ll
both
be ready. And as I’ve told her, I’m not. And I might not ever be.”

“Um, are you sure she heard you?”

He quirked a brow. “This
is
your mother we’re talking about. I might have to tell her twice. Or eighteen times.”

“Or take her to a shrink,” Josh muttered.

Kimmie glared at him. “You. Dishes. Now.”

Josh’s lips spread in a full Josh Juan smile. “Yes, Princess Sergeant.”

“Oooh, you—”

Arthur coughed. His dark eyes twinkled. “I see you have this under control.”

Her life had turned into one of those messes like when the mixer got turned on too fast with no shield and cake batter splattered all over and nobody had time to clean it up, and by the time they did, it would be crusted on the walls and even harder to scrub off.

But good things were coming. Even with Josh letting her get the occasional glimpse of his own gooey caramel core—if not his banana and coconuts—and her getting more attached than was smart, she knew good things were coming.

They had to be.

D
espite Kimmie’s
repeated assurances that Josh didn’t need to spend his
whole
weekend with her, he insisted on accompanying her to the Miss Flower Girl and Miss Junior Bridesmaid pageant meetings, which were fairly intense with the pageants coming up Friday night. He also didn’t complain when Kimmie had to detour to six different places for various other Knot Fest-related errands.

Or when twelve more people threatened everything from his nose hairs to his manhood if Kimmie shed a single tear over him.

“This place is growing on me,” he said midafternoon while they climbed the stairs to Kimmie’s apartment.

“Seriously?”

“Nice, the way everyone looks out for you.”

Her cheeks went warm. “Everyone looks out for
everyone
here.”

“Didn’t see that where I grew up.”

Kimmie stopped midstep and turned around.

“What?” Josh said warily.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, and she hugged him. Hard.

He’d lost his mother at a young age, been dependent on the kindness of strangers, and then—if that little bit he’d let slip on Wednesday was true—had a harder life before he was eleven than she’d had in her almost thirty years. Yet here he was, wearing a put-together, unstoppable face for the world, succeeding through a little luck and a lot of sheer willpower.

Would he have needed the Joshanova smile and the Josh Juan swagger if he’d had a warm community like Bliss around him instead?

His shoulders were tense, and he stood seemingly frozen, but then his arms slipped around her back.

He didn’t try to touch her butt or turn the hug into one of those mind-melting kisses he’d used before their fake engagement, but instead, he dropped his head to her shoulder, and he hugged her tight.

She wouldn’t have minded if he kissed her.

But she wasn’t brave enough to kiss him first. Not now that she knew him as something more than the Snack Cake Romeo.

Because if Josh was half the man underneath that she suspected he was, her heart was in serious danger.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” she said around a weird lump in her throat.

He didn’t answer, but instead let her go, then gestured for her to go ahead without looking at her.

She skittered up the stairs and turned into her hallway, where her cupcake heart leapt for joy. “Lindsey! I thought you were on the road with Will.”

Her blond friend snapped the lid on her laptop, uncrossed her cowboy boots, and stood with a warm smile. “Nope. Work has me here until the wedding.”

She was in another sundress today, her hair down, and she looked glowy and beautiful and happy.

“Did I tell you the other day that I love those cowboy boots?” Kimmie said.

“Will does too.” She gave Kimmie a quick hug, then nodded to Josh.

“You’re having a divorce lawyer write our agreement?” Josh said.

“Better than using the business contract that comes in a cereal box,” Lindsey said. “Happy to do a prenup while I’m here.”

Lava shot through Kimmie’s cheeks again. “She’s kidding.” Lindsey had
better
be kidding. Kimmie forced a smile at Josh. “She told me at Nat’s wedding that Jake and I were a good couple too.”

His eyes narrowed and took on a blue flame. “Who the hell’s Jake?”

“One of my cousins.”

“Oh.”

Kimmie unlocked the door and led them inside.

“Are you really qualified to write a business contract?” Josh asked Lindsey.

“Not much different than a prenup,” she said. “Spells out what each of you are bringing to the table, the terms of your agreement, and what you’re each entitled to in the event your relationship goes sour. I’ve also been up to my elbows in business documents for my own reasons lately, and your situation sounds simple enough. Have your own lawyer look it over.”

“You’re doing this for Kimmie for free.”

“I’d do anything for Kimmie.”

“Including bury a body?”

“Especially bury a body.”

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” Kimmie said, “how about I go check on my cats and then make some cupcakes while you two work out those pesky business details?”

Josh frowned at her. Lindsey’s expression went straight and professional. “Speaking of cupcakes, Will wants two dozen off your special menu to take on the road after the wedding.”

“The, erm, peach kind?”

“The peach kind,” Lindsey said.

“I like the peach kind,” Josh said.

Mikey had named them Sex on a Peach. And they were Kimmie’s second-biggest seller, after the Hairy Dicks, which were coconut cake balls strategically placed with Dahlia’s chocolate-covered, ice cream-filled bananas. And Josh’s frown had disappeared, and now he was grinning as if he knew it.

All of it.

The Joshanova was back in the building.

“So, s’mores cupcakes today,” Kimmie said. “Coming right up. Thanks, Lindsey.”

“Anytime.”

And she didn’t say anything about Kimmie and Josh being a terrible match, but she didn’t say anything about them being a good match either.

Kimmie could’ve asked. It would’ve only taken three stuttered words.
Are we good?
And Lindsey would’ve been honest.

With a five-word conversation, Kimmie could’ve gotten assurance that she and Josh were not a good match. That they were doomed. That they were way too different, both in their pasts and in their futures, and that they would never work.

That Kimmie needed to give up the crazy ideas she was getting that were wackier than any of her dreams. Or all of her dreams put together.

But what if they
were
a good match?

Kimmie stepped into her bedroom. Peep and Boo peered up at her from a rare joint nap on her green flowered bedspread.

“He’d be a lot of work, kitties,” she whispered.