Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) (17 page)

But maybe, just maybe, he’d be worth it.

And that hope, that promise, that dream, was scarier than even Kimmie’s mother could be. Because even if Lindsey thought they’d be a good match, there was no guarantee Josh would ever agree.

He might’ve been stronger than Kimmie’s mother, but was he man enough to love Kimmie?

J
osh had been
to Bliss enough that the random brides and grooms floating about the town barely registered anymore. They were usually another extension of the town itself, a detail that blended into the background.

But when he pulled his Porsche into the parking lot of the Rose and Dove country club Sunday night for the Knot Fest meeting Kimmie kept insisting he shouldn’t go to, the bride and groom running out to their car amidst a shower of bubbles caught his attention.

Neither of them were particularly beautiful people. He was balding, and she had a nose that was too big for her face.

But they were both smiling. Beaming, actually, at each other, as though together they could cure cancer, wipe out hunger, and bring about world peace.

As though they were complete.

As though they had no fears, no cares, no concerns.

As though there were no chance either of them would be maimed in an accident, or that they’d deliver a child with severe handicaps, or that they’d face unemployment, grief, or death.

Life didn’t work that way.

But here, everyone thought it did.

“The golf course is usually closed at night, but I know the managers, and they have glow-in-the-dark balls, and I could talk them into letting you play a round,” Kimmie said. “The Knot Fest meeting is going to be totally boring. Just all the subcommittee chairs reporting that everything’s going as it’s supposed to, because my mom would—anyway. It’s not exciting at all.”

It would be as soon as Josh walked in the room.

And he wouldn’t have to say a word.

“All Aisle business owners participate in Knot Fest,” Josh parroted back to her.

She’d said it six times this weekend, presumably without realizing the implication.
He
was an Aisle business owner.

She visibly gulped. “Try not to say anything to my mom, okay? Or, you know, look at her. In fact, if you could sort of be invisible for the next two hours…”

Josh put the car in park and unbuckled his seat belt. “It’ll be fine, Kimmie.”

She didn’t answer, but even the cupcakes on her shirt seemed to be drooping as he took her hand and pulled her into the building.

Her touch made him shiver. A not-bad shiver. Identical to the shiver he’d barely held in when she’d hugged him earlier.

She was an odd girl. Funny. Smarter than she let on. A
girl
, as his body had reminded him this morning. With the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met.

Kimmie steered him past several private chapels and the club bar, then pulled him into a closed-off third of the ballroom.

A gasp echoed over the din of workers cleaning up from the reception in the other part of the room. Three people turned to stare. Then eight. Then another forty or so.

Kimmie ducked her head. Her signature jagged blush unevenly colored her cheeks.

And her neck, Josh realized.

His
Chicago’s Hottest Bachelor
smile came naturally, and he flashed it at everyone who looked his way. Someone at nearly every table pointed to open seats at their tables, and whispers of “Hey, Kimmie” and “Kimmie, over here” spread about the room.

She waved or said something to most of them as she walked past. Josh followed along as though he owned the room.

As though he was at another high-dollar fundraiser or awards banquet on behalf of Sweet Dreams.

Kimmie came to an abrupt halt at a table near the wall of windows, a decent distance from the table on the raised dais. “You brought CJ,” she said to Natalie.

The massive dude in question had already stood and offered Kimmie his seat.

“Seemed prudent,” CJ said with a pointed look at Josh.

“Lindsey’s afraid of losing Most Favored Aunt status,” Natalie said. “She begged to take Noah, and since I couldn’t miss this…”

“Sit,” CJ said to Josh.

The other three people at the table—all familiar faces from last night’s party at Kimmie’s place, including Pepper—shifted around the table to let CJ have a spot next to his wife. Josh took the open seat between Kimmie and Pepper.

Another murmur went through the room.

Natalie, Josh noticed, grabbed Kimmie’s hand.

Josh draped his arm around Kimmie, his fingers grazing her bicep.

Her warm, strong girl-skin pebbled in goosebumps.

Marilyn entered through a side door and marched to the center table. She sat, gave a perfunctory scan of the room, then banged a gavel. “By the power vested in me as chairperson of Knot Festival, I now pronounce this meeting—
oh!
”

She’d spotted Josh.

He gave her a nod.

Then added a wink.

Kimmie got him with a solid elbow to the ribs. Josh held his breath and clenched his gut to keep from
oomph
-ing.

Her mother’s cheeks had taken on the same jagged flush Kimmie was sporting, but unlike Kimmie, there was nothing innocently attractive about any part of Marilyn. Ice couldn’t catch fire, but her eyes were.

“I now pronounce this meeting opened,” Marilyn finished in a tight voice.

“I had a dream once that I found the portal to hell inside a flower pot of dirt pudding. This is more terrifying,” Kimmie whispered.

Without moving her mouth.

Josh squeezed her arm. “I’ll behave,” he murmured. “For now.”

“She’s going to pickle your cucumbers.”

“He has more than one?” Natalie whispered.

“That’s between me and Kimmie,” Josh replied.

Kimmie hit him with an elbow again. He bit back a grunt and turned his attention to Marilyn.

But he casually brushed Kimmie’s arm with his fingertips too. Her cheeks sported that fascinating blush, and her bright blue eyes were wide and hypervigilant, quickly scanning the room.

A week ago, he would’ve assumed she was simply flighty.

Tonight, though, he wondered what she was looking for. What she saw. What weighed in as significant.

If she even realized how much she knew and what she could do if she put her mind to it.

If her mother knew what Kimmie was capable of.

Why Kimmie was still afraid of her.

Marilyn called for the minutes. Josh turned from studying Kimmie and instead put his focus on learning what he could about Bliss and this Knot Festival craziness. It was the event of the year in these parts, he’d picked up. Brought in a hefty portion of Bliss’s annual revenue. It was the only wedding festival in the US, and Bliss got major press coverage for it.

From a business perspective, he could easily understand why it had been so important for Marilyn to save the festival that she’d sold half her bakery to make sure Knot Fest happened after the flood.

But while he might have respected her business intentions, he hated her for what she put Kimmie through.

A sturdy older lady lumbered to her feet to read last week’s minutes while the man beside her—her husband, Josh assumed—grunted and nodded along, hands propped on a walking cane.

The rest of the meeting was long but efficient. Kimmie seemed to have a hand in nearly every bit of the festival. There must’ve been eighteen subcommittee reports for Knot Festival week activities, from publicity to the pre-festival pageant to the kick-off parade—called the Bridal March, of course, with a path from the courthouse at one end of The Aisle to the wedding cake monument at the other—and every subcommittee chair-couple mentioned Kimmie had done something for them this last week.

Marilyn finally rapped her gavel on the table. “If any person knows of any reason this meeting should not be adjourned, speak now or forever hold your peace,” she said.

“I have something to say.” An older gentleman two tables over rose to his feet.

Kimmie stirred. Surprise and open curiosity dotted the room.

“Mr. Hart?” Marilyn said.

“Thank you.”

Marilyn stared at him expectantly.

“That’s all,” he said. “Just thank you. From all of us. Having Knot Fest after the flood wasn’t something any of us thought would happen. But you did it. You motivated us, both for Knot Fest and for getting our shops fixed in time. We didn’t know the extent of your sacrifice to make it happen. But now that we do, thank you.”

He turned a sharp gaze to Josh. “You too,” he said. “Thank you.”

Heat rose from Josh’s neck to his face. He nodded.

The older gentleman sat down. A slow applause started in the middle of the room, and soon it surrounded them. Kimmie beamed at him.

The heat under his skin got worse. His tie was choking him, except he wasn’t wearing a tie. His grip tightened on Kimmie.

He’d taken applause at dozens of charity dinners. This wasn’t new.

But this was different.

This was personal.

Marilyn banged her gavel and cleared her throat over the slowing applause. “Well, thank you.” Some of her ice had melted, but she still wore her annoyingly haughty nose tilt. “By the power vested in me as Knot Festival chairperson, I now declare this meeting adjourned. Kimberly, Mr. Kincaid, a word.” She banged her gavel again.

A murmur of voices spread through the room.

“Need us to stay?” Natalie asked Kimmie.

She shook her head.

But if Josh could read people at all, Natalie and CJ were staying, and there was a solid chance half the ballroom was too.

Gawkers?

Or as a buffer between Kimmie and her mother?

Kimmie moved to stand.

Josh clamped his hand on her thigh. The lean muscle tightened under his fingers, and his groin stirred. “She’ll come to us if she wants to talk,” he said.

“That’ll anger the beast more,” she whispered.

“The beast is only a beast as long as you’re afraid of it.”

Kimmie couldn’t win by being a jellyfish. Not that a backbone alone would solve the Marilyn problem, but it would be a start.

“It’s not about fear,” Kimmie whispered. “It’s about intelligence.”

“He’s right, Kimmie,” Natalie said. “She’ll be insufferable as long as you let her.”

Kimmie’s jaw set in a stubborn line. “I’ve been handling her for
years
, you know.”

“Make her handle you for once,” Josh said. “She’d be up shit creek without you at the bakery, and she knows it. You have power. Use it.”

“If you keep talking, I might start liking you,” Natalie said to him.

Kimmie gripped Josh’s wrist. “And what will she do to Rosita and Paige and all the other girls at the bakery if she’s mad at me?”

She wouldn’t do a damn thing, because Josh wouldn’t let her. “Kimmie.”

Her cheeks went up in those brilliant red streaks. “One step at a time. Okay?”

“Holy
shit
,” Natalie whispered. “You two are doing that talking-without-talking thing, aren’t you? Oh, you
are
cute.”

Josh didn’t do cute. Nor did he appreciate her implication. “You can go,” he said to Natalie.

She cackled and rubbed her hands together. “Not a chance.”

“Kimmie!” An older couple descended on them, the lady taking the lead. “Congratulations! We’re so excited to be doing the flowers for your wedding.”

Uh-oh.

Kimmie blinked at the lady. “Um, my… wedding?”

Josh stood and cleared his throat. “Kimmie’s been so busy with Knot Fest, she left the details to me. I wanted to surprise her.”

“Ooooh. We weren’t here. Didn’t say a thing.” She winked. “But we’re thrilled we had a cancelation and could squeeze you in,” she said in a rushed whisper.

She grabbed her husband, turned, and then froze with a squeak.

“You’re doing flowers for my daughter’s wedding?” Marilyn said in an icy, deadly tone that made the hair on Josh’s arms stand up. “During Knot Fest?”

“Kimmie deserves the wedding of her dreams,” Josh said. “Doesn’t she, Marilyn?”

“Oh, I
do
like him,” Natalie whispered.

Marilyn’s nostrils flared. Josh half-expected to see flames, or at least smoke.

Instinct made him grab Kimmie’s hand.

She was about to bolt.

“But if you’d rather elope, sweetheart, we could leave tonight,” he said.

The panic receded from Kimmie’s eyes and irritation lit an entirely different spark. She’d most likely be decapitating him with a frosting spreader made of goat cheese in her dreams tonight. “For a man who hasn’t bought me a diamond yet, you’re very sure of yourself.”

“I can help with that,” a gentleman to Josh’s right said.

“Oh, but don’t buy without coming to see us first,” said a woman to his left. “We’ll make you a better deal.”

Kimmie glared at Josh.

But Josh?

He grinned.

He couldn’t have hidden it if he wanted. “There’s that spirit,” he murmured. He hooked his arm around her waist and had the pleasure of watching her eyes go wide again a second before he claimed her mouth in a slow, seductive, thorough kiss.

He needed to do it for the show, he told himself. To demonstrate for Marilyn she wasn’t Kimmie’s world anymore. To keep up pretenses.

Not because Kimmie was an intriguing combination of soft and strong, sweet and spicy. Not because her lips were ripe and juicy, her mouth hot, her hair soft and silky around his fingers.

And he didn’t keep kissing her because she wasn’t fighting him. Or because she was hesitantly kissing him back with those full lips, her fingers clutching his shirt over his hammering heart.

He didn’t want to stop.

Yet.

He wanted—

More.

He wanted more. From Kimmie. Fluffy, kind-hearted, overlooked Kimmie.

A shrill whistle split the air. Two more followed, along with hearty laughter and clapping.

Kimmie pulled away, ducked her head, and smoothed a hand over her hair.

Josh could appreciate that.

He wanted to do the same.

“It seems I owe the lady a diamond,” he said instead.

There was another round of laughter, but it wasn’t until Josh took his fourth hearty backslap and fifth handshake that he realized Marilyn was gone.

Not as comforting as it should’ve been.

Josh needed to get back to Chicago, to Sweet Dreams, but he’d be staying in Bliss another night.

He still had business here that he’d been neglecting.

S
undays and Mondays
were the biggest baking days at Heaven’s Bakery. On Sundays, Rosita generally oversaw the baking and wrapping of the majority of the wedding cakes for the week, and Monday, it fell to Kimmie to finish baking the wedding cakes and start the cupcakes for the daily crowd. She’d had a key to Heaven’s Bakery since she’d gotten her driver’s license, so though she generally reported to work around seven a.m. after a Pilates session, this particular Monday, she snuck out of her apartment at four, while Josh was fast asleep on the couch.