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The strawberry and butterscotch one was a personal favorite, and that was going on my menu as a seasonal cupcake no matter what. I was also a huge fan of the strawberry, almond, and vanilla.
That one almost hadn’t made it to the tasting plate.
Either way, I’d tried every single one of these creations, I was sick to death of cake, and I was proud of them all. I’d be happy to serve every single one in the bakery, and I was seriously considering making a cupcake of the day with a different flavor every single day.
My phone buzzed on the table, and I grabbed it to read the text.
MAVERICK: The bakery is closed?
ME: Shut early today. We’re both tired. Are you here?
MAVERICK: How else would I know?
ME: It’s a small town. You’d be surprised.
ME: Two seconds, I’ll come and let you in.
I put my phone down and headed out. There was a side door that gave direct access to the apartment without having to go through the bakery, and I used that door when I reached the bottom of the stairs. I couldn’t see Maverick in the alleyway, so I walked around to the front.
He was leaning against his car, looking at his phone. His backpack that no doubt contained his fifth limb—A.K.A his laptop—was resting by his feet, and my stomach gave a little flip when he looked up.
God.
That was not good.
I didn’t want my stomach to get all fluttery or flippy when I saw him, thank you very much.
“Hi.” He grinned. “Are you sure you want to do this today?”
“Yeah, it’s already set up. Come on up.”
“Up?”
“To my apartment,” I replied, waving for him to follow me. “The store is closed so there’s no point staying downstairs.”
“Oh, sure.” He grabbed his backpack and followed me down the side of the store to the alley, and I took him inside. Mav closed the bottom door behind him and locked it when I asked, then we both went upstairs to my apartment.
I’d left the door open, so I stepped inside and waited for him. He kicked his shoes off at the door and walked in, looking around at my small yet homey place.
“Do you own the apartment, too?”
“Yeah, it was for the whole building. The previous owners used to rent it out, but I needed somewhere to live when I moved back.” I locked the door. “Plus, logistically, it makes sense.”
“I can imagine, especially when you wake up so early.”
“Exactly. I just need to get up early enough to wake up and go downstairs, really.” I smiled. “The cakes are on the table over here. Come and sit and see if you like any of them.”
“Based on what I know about your baking, I doubt I could hate any of them.” He ran his fingers through his hair and joined me at the table. “Holy shit, Piper. How many did you make?”
“I, uh, got a little carried away. Don’t worry—I’ll use some of these combos for the store either way.” I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “Why don’t you get started?”
His eyes scanned the slate where the bite-sized morsels were all laid out. “I don’t know where to start. What’s your favorite? I assume you’ve tried them all.”
I held up my hands. “No. Nuh-huh. I’m not falling for that. You’ll use me to choose when you get stuck, but you’re paying me for this. You’ll have to do it by yourself.”
Mav groaned. “Okay, fine. Left to right, then. Do you have anything to drink?”
“Like water? Or beer?”
“Beer and cake? I’m moving in.”
“Calm down.” I rolled my eyes and fetched a beer from the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine for myself.
Not that I was drinking the whole bottle.
Not from the bottle, anyway.
I poured myself a glass then took the beer to Maverick. He took it gratefully, swigging before he set it down on a coaster.
A coaster.
Be still my heart.
It was his first time here, and he instantly used a coaster. My brother still hadn’t figured that shit out.
I wasn’t sure I could watch this. It was one thing to offer a wedding cake tasting selection, but this was something else entirely. He was paying me nothing short of a fortune for this, and I needed him to fall in love with at least one of those.
“Strawberry and basil,” he mused. “Basil? In a cake?”
“Try it. You might be surprised.”
CHAPTER EIGHT – PIPER
RULE EIGHT: THE WAY TO A MAN’S HEART IS THROUGH HIS STOMACH. OR HIS PANTS.
BOTH ARE ALSO ROUTES TO A WOMAN’S HEART.
He popped the square into his mouth, albeit dubiously, but his expression quickly changed. “Holy shit. That’s amazing.”
I blushed. “Sometimes the weirdest combinations are the best ones. Keep going.”
He worked his way down the line, munching his way through the ones with mango, lemon, kiwi, pistachio and cardamom, and finally to my favorites.
