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“I hadn’t thought of that, because I’m not that clever, but I’ve got my eye on you, Mr. Mayor. Who knew you could be so devious?”
We laughed together and enjoyed comfortable, amiable conversation until we reached Perfect Day Cakes. Pippa wanted to use Nina for the cake as well, but the chef had insisted that if she were getting married, she would go to Perfect Day Cakes as her number one pick. “Here we are.”
“This is it? It seems so small,” he said as he eyed the small store front with confusion.
“This isn’t a traditional bakery. They specialize in wedding cakes and other event desserts. The dining space in front is strictly for cake tastings.”
Chase stepped from my truck easily and walked around to help me down with a gentle smile. He held a hand out and I took it, gasping at his strength and another zap of electricity that began where our hands were connected. “Is this a sustainable business model?”
I nodded. “Weddings are a very lucrative business, Chase. Isn’t that how Margot convinced you to re-zone the space for multiple business purposes?”
“Well yes, but she sold me on weddings and other events. I didn’t realize a business could survive on just weddings.” He shook his head in disbelief and shut my door behind me, staying close beside me like a perfect southern gentleman.
“They cater predominantly to weddings, but there are other events like anniversary parties, divorce parties, and even cakes to celebrate retirement. It’s never just weddings.”
Chase absorbed my words and nodded, while I steered us towards the front door. Perfect Day Cakes had a simple décor of off-white and light blue, black & white wedding cake photos on the walls, and the chairs and tables were set up like the bride and groom’s table. “Adorable,” I cooed just as the owner, Madeline, rushed out with a grin.
“Carlotta and Chase, I presume?”
I nodded. “I’m Carlotta Montgomery, the wedding planner. Thank you for getting us in on such short notice.”
Madeline grinned. “My husband and my brothers are huge fans of TGB and I’m a big fan of new clients, so here we are. I have six cakes prepared for you to taste. Are we ready?” Before we could answer, Madeline led us to a small table in the middle of the dining room. “Sparkling water will help keep your palates clean between cakes.” With those words, she disappeared behind swinging metal doors.
I leaned back in my chair and removed my sunglasses. “Pippa didn’t give you any guidance?” The woman was oddly removed from her own wedding planning, which was worrisome, except I knew Pippa and how excited she was to marry Ryan.
“She said nothing weird like blue cheese frosting. No jams or jellies between the cake layers, and she’d be up for some type of bacon flavor in the frosting, but she gets final approval on that.” He rolled his eyes. “I think she just wants to taste bacon maple frosting.”
The first cake was a lemon cake with a Limoncello buttercream frosting. It was heavenly, but boring. “So?”
“Delicious, but a little lowkey for a wedding, don’t you think?”
I smiled and nodded. “Agreed.”
“This cake,” Madeline began with a proud smile. “Is Amaretto Orange with an apricot mousse between the layers.”
Chase tasted it first, and the way he moaned in appreciation was so erotic I had to slam my knees shut against the pulsing between my thighs. “Damn, that is divine. Literally divine.”
After that endorsement, how could I not? I slid my fork through the slice and pushed it between my lips. It was divine. It was beyond divine. I looked to Madeline. “Are you some kind of witch?”
She laughed. “I prefer sorceress, but that’s my business.”
The red velvet cake was delicious, but mostly forgettable after that Amaretto magic.
“That’s stunning!” I practically yelled when the red wine cake came out. “The color alone will win Pippa over.”
“Let’s hope the taste will too,” Madeline said and stepped back, giving us privacy to taste her creation.
It was wonderful. Sweeter than I would have imagined for red wine cake, but moist and creamy and utterly delicious. “That is fabulous.”
“It’s so good,” Chase said around a bite and leaned forward to stop the frosting from falling, but he was too late. One drop hit his sweater, his cream-colored sweater, and his hand went to spot instinctively and he rubbed it in before I could tell him not to. “Dammit.”
“Stop! You’re smearing it in Chase, and the stain will set.”
His broad shoulders fell, and I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s ruined.”
“It’s not,” I insisted. “I’ll take the sweater home with me and fix it right up for you.” I stood just as Madeline came out again.
“Is there a problem?”
