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Caden stepped farther into the shop.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie watched the lady patrons salivate for the second time—the first for the cupcakes and the second for the man. She couldn’t blame them.
“Oh, I know exactly what you prefer. Grab that icing and I’ll show you what I remember.”
A lady at the counter suffocated her laugh into the icing as she eavesdropped on the conversation. Maggie shot her a glare.
“All right, Caden,” she said.
“I only honored your wish,” Caden explained. He stepped closer to the decorating station, leaving a trail of women checking out his backside. “If I recall correctly, you wanted no strings attached.”
Maggie tilted her head and remembered the white chef’s hat hiding her hair. Thank god she looked cute in the thing. “I didn’t expect you to honor them.”
“I am an honorable man,” said Caden, raising a thick brow.
Snorting, Maggie shook her head. “Caden Archibald and honorable do not go together.”
“You wound me.” Caden clutched his heart with his right hand and then his left. He wore no rings. But even if he did marry, somehow Maggie didn’t think he’d flaunt such an advertisement on his fingers.
“Whatever,” Maggie replied. “You’re keeping me from my work. What will you have?”
One of his thick black eyebrows rose, and his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip while he stroked his chin. Shocked at his audacity, Maggie gasped. “Oh my God, are you seriously this childish?”
Caden put his hand in the air for surrender. “What? You’re the one who asked the question.”
Thankfully Tiffani reappeared from the back French doors. “All right, I’m back,” she said cheerfully and then added, as her head did a double take, “Well damn, hello.”
“Hello,” said Caden.
Maggie didn’t bother turning around to face her coworker and the daughter of the owner of the shop. “Tiffani, this is...”
“Caden Archibald, sports agent.” It didn’t surprise Maggie that Tiffani knew Caden’s career. At one point in her life, Tiffani had made plans to be in the WNBA, but a knee injury waylaid her.
“Sports and entertainment agent,” Caden confirmed. “I need to make sure my clients are represented on the field and off.”
Tiffani sidled up to Maggie and elbowed her in the ribs. “So speaking of playing the field...”
“We weren’t,” Maggie clarified. “Caden is an old acquaintance.”
Caden stroked his chin again, bringing attention to a perfectly groomed goatee. “Acquaintances now?”
“Clearly,” Tiffani began, her eyes darting between the two of them, “you both need a moment together to bump that status up to at least friends.”
Maggie shook her head from side to side. “I have to get this photo uploaded.” She pointed toward the bakery-themed clock above the front door with a plate for a face and a spoon and fork for the hands. “I don’t have a lot of time.”
“I can handle uploading a photo,” said Tiffani. She picked up the camera on the counter.
Caden however, nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a great idea. Maggie, this will only take a moment.”
“I’m busy.” Maggie fanned her hands at the glass display then the crowd.
To be ornery, Tiffani pushed Maggie’s arm down. “It’s time for your break. I’ve got this. You forget, I was raised up in here.”
Scoffing, Maggie rolled her eyes while she untied her black-and-white gingham apron. “Fine, follow me.”
“You know,” Caden said, trailing Maggie through the kitchen, “I am beginning to get the feeling you don’t want to talk to me.”
“What is there to talk about, Caden?” She stopped just short of the screen doors that led to the back alley, where a constant cool breeze always flowed between the bakery and the bookstore behind them.
