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“What the hell is that?” he asked, sniffing the air.
Dex looked at him liked he’d lost his damn mind, and maybe he had. But he was sniffing the air like a basset hound, following the scent to a white box on Dex’s desk.
“Cupcakes,” Dex said, opening the box and pulling one out. “Natalie dropped them by earlier. I guess these are the castoffs.”
East frowned and came up to the box, then stopped. The castoffs. Ones he’d frosted, probably. Fuck, he had messed up. He should have known his efforts wouldn’t have been good enough for Natalie. Easton Ambrose, class A fuck-up, can’t even frost a batch of cupcakes. Yep, that sounded about right.
“Here, have one.” Dex held open the box top, and East was almost scared to look. “You look like you could use it.”
This was ridiculous. East was scared of a box of cupcakes. No. He was a strong, tough search and rescue medic for Christ’s sake. But it wasn’t just the box…it was the woman behind the box.
Not that he’d been trying to prove anything…but seeing the “castoff” cupcakes cracked something in his chest he didn’t know he had.
“Fuck it,” he finally said, doing his best to get back to the “casual East” of not caring. So what if Natalie didn’t like his help or his frosting job? She was a professional, and he wasn’t, and what the hell ever.
She could just go—
He glanced down and saw six perfect mini cakes. All chocolate and red velvet. Not a single vanilla.
Vanilla were the only ones he’d frosted, which meant she’d kept them.
“These are the castoffs?” East asked. They looked pristine. The woman was stubborn and a perfectionist. She was also talented as hell, because if these were her “worst work,” he could barely handle her best.
But she kept mine…
Of course, she could have thrown them all in the trash and he wouldn’t know, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that. For whatever reason, he felt…happy. Looking at a box of cupcakes, he was hopeful for the first time in…
Ever.
“Don’t worry,” Dex said, sliding the box toward East. “She specifically marked one for you.”
East took a better look. Sure enough, inside sat a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and a little decorative flag stuck on a toothpick that read Easton’s Dessert.
She’d thought of him.
Even knew his favorite flavor.
He reached for the cake, and in one bite knew how amazing it was. But somewhere along the line, he’d started to develop an affinity for vanilla…and the sassy baker that tasted like sugar, spice, and everything wicked.
Chapter Seven
Natalie tugged at the hem of her dress and tried not to fidget. Difficult, considering the entire place was packed for the bachelor-bachelorette party. Chloe had taken care of the food and the location. As if there was ever a doubt there could be a better establishment than Honey’s.
And Natalie’s display of a hundred hand-crafted cupcakes was proudly presented on its own table in the corner.
She glanced around.
Most of the out-of-towners she didn’t recognize seemed to be Connecticut friends of Matt’s and Bridget’s. Though no other bridesmaids showed up, a lot of other acquaintances did—not to mention the majority of the townspeople between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. A big party in town was never kept secret for long, and most everyone was a beer or two in.
Natalie should grab a drink. It’d give her something to do with her hands other than stand there like a moron, trying not to look awkward.
Story of my life…
“Hey, sis,” Matt said and slung an arm over her shoulder. “Good turnout, huh?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“The cakes look great. Thanks for doing that. Bridget loves them.”
