Page 4 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

Outside, it was all calm and serene. In this bakery, it looked like any coffee shop in Manhattan during the morning rush. The only thing missing were the expensive suits and cellphones. Back in Manhattan, everyone was in a hurry. They were cranky and fiending for their hit of caffeine.

I was not interested in dealing with a feeding frenzy. I was here to get a couple bites of cake and that was that. There was only one problem.

I didn’t see Eliza’s sister. I didn’t know who she was, but I knew they were twins, so I was looking for an Eliza clone. But there was no sign of Dorie. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on a door at the back of the shop. It swung open, and a woman stepped out, carrying a tray of pastries. My breath caught in my throat.

She was short, with curves that could make a grown man weep. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few curls escaping to frame her face. Her big blue eyes were focused on the tray in her hands, but when she looked up and met my gaze, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. She was stunning. Absolutely stunning.

And then she glared at me. The look was a surprise for a brief second until it all came rushing back. The park. The run. The bush. This was the woman I’d knocked over this morning. The one who’d told me off with a fire in her eyes that had left me equal parts annoyed and intrigued.

This was Dorie? Eliza’s sister?

It couldn’t be. Eliza was tall with dark hair. Yes, they both had blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Eliza was beautiful, someone you might see on a billboard or runway. But this woman was petite. Most designers overlooked women like this.

Not me.

I snapped myself back to reality.

No ogling the cakemaker.

“Excuse me,” I said.

I tried to cut in line, eager to get this over with, but I was immediately met with protests from the other customers. “Hey, buddy, wait your turn!” one guy barked.

“Back of the line.”

“No cuts.”

I frowned. I had an appointment. I didn’t want one of the fucking donuts they were all eager to get. I’d wait. But I wasn’t happy about it. Every minute that passed by only served to piss me off even more. She knew I was coming for the cake testing. Why was I being made to endure this stupid ritual?

By the time I reached the counter, the young man—Toby, according to his name tag—informed me they were sold out. Sold out. At ten a.m. Good for them. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my temper in check. “I’m here to see Dorie,” I said, my voice tight. “About a wedding cake. I don’t want a donut, cookie, or bagel. I need to see the manager.”

Toby nodded and disappeared into the back, leaving me standing there like an idiot. A few moments later, Dorie emerged, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked me up and down, her expression unreadable. “You’re K?”

“Kaisen,” I corrected, my tone sharper than I intended. “And yes. Can we get this over with?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk that made my blood boil. “Charming as ever, I see. Follow me.”

She turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen, leaving me no choice but to follow. I trailed behind her, my eyes lingering on the sway of her hips, the way her apron hugged her waist. She was infuriating, but damn if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

She gestured to a small table in the corner. “Sit,” she said, not looking at me.

I sat down, my eyes never leaving her. She was a force of nature. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to strangle her or kiss her. Probably both.

“Like you said, let’s get this over with,” she muttered.