Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) (18 page)

He wouldn’t leave.

But she couldn’t fix things with General Mom with Josh hovering.

Nor could she think straight when he was close enough to touch. Or smell. Or feel. Which he hadn’t been since they’d left the Knot Fest meeting last night. Kisses apparently didn’t mean anything to him, but that kiss had meant something to Kimmie.

It had been different from his first kisses. Not awkward like the kiss before cakemageddon. Not aggressive like the kisses when she’d tracked him down at the alehouse and then when she’d surprised him at his apartment.

Instead, it was almost tender. Possessive. Inspiring. And hotter than any oven she’d ever used.

Could
a playboy like Josh fall for a cupcake like Kimmie?

She growled to herself and shoved her key in the lock at Heaven’s Bakery. Kimmie stepped out of the well-lit alley and hit the light switch.

The fluorescents flickered to life in the sterile kitchen. White walls, white counters, white sinks, white drawers and cabinets hiding anything that wasn’t as pure as bridal virginity.

Kimmie grabbed a white apron, but then paused and looked about the room again.

Flowers.

If she owned Heaven’s Bakery, she’d have flowers painted on the kitchen walls. Whimsical flowers, with long curly stems and cupcakes for petals in all colors of the rainbow. She’d paint the ceiling too. She’d hang pictures of her favorite wedding cakes in the customer lobby, and she’d have a pen holder with those cute pens that had fake pink daisies taped to the top. Or maybe with miniature brides and grooms.

She could do it.

She could suggest—gently—that General Mom consider retirement even with Josh in the picture. Enjoy more time with Arthur. Take a cruise.

Maybe around the world. Those lasted at least six months, didn’t they?

Kimmie giggled.

The doorknob clicked behind her, and she swung around.

“Kimberly.” General Mom was dressed for success in her white business suit, white heels, diamond earrings, and her perfectly styled short brown hair. But her frown was dressed for an impending murder.

Specifically, Kimmie’s.

Kimmie fumbled for a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

General Mom’s facial muscles didn’t move, but she somehow managed to convey the lip curl of disappointment with the brow of
don’t get comfortable
all the same. “You’ve decided to join the ranks of the honest, hardworking people of Bliss today, have you? Or do you have nefarious purposes for being in my kitchen two hours early?”

Kimmie’s stomach rolled. General Mom
did
have a way of making a person feel about as tall as the short side of a dull butter knife. “I didn’t quit,” she heard herself say. “I took a day off. To try to do what
you
wanted me to do.”

“You will remove that tone from your vocabulary if you wish to remain employed here, Kimberly. You’ve lost my trust, and I will
not
tolerate any further misbehavior. Am I understood?”

Kimmie swallowed.
Yes, Mom
. It was the expected answer. The normal answer.

But, perhaps, not the
right
answer.

“Why did you rig the Miss Flower Girl pageant when I was little?” she blurted instead.

General Mom’s lips parted. “Kimberly Anne Elias, how
dare
you—”

“I heard you,” she whispered. “I dream a lot of crazy stuff, but that wasn’t a dream. It was too
normal
. You told Mrs. Sparks that Blythe family descendants always won, that it put them on the path to leading Bliss, and that if I didn’t win, she’d be dooming the future of her own business. You threatened her.”

“Everyone’s businesses are doomed without proper leadership in the next generation, Kimberly.”

And Kimmie wasn’t leadership material. Her heart fluttered like a cupcake with broken wings. “That’s when you quit calling me Kimmie.”

General Mom’s eyelids fluttered shut, and her perfect posture drooped. “Your father called you Kimmie,” she said quietly. “He… I had a dream. You were grown up, and I hadn’t taught you to bake cake, or to properly clean and sanitize your frosting tips, or to order supplies or manage inventory or to do payroll. And you and your father had stolen Princess Diana’s wedding cake and were grabbing handfuls of it to fling at your grandfather’s picture while you… The point, Kimberly, is that I realized I was failing you. You’ve always been your father’s creative, imaginative child, but I was failing to properly train you for the necessities of everyday life. Your father didn’t know how to balance a checkbook. He never thought to have the oil changed in his car. He would’ve lived on boxed macaroni and hot dogs without me.”

But Mom didn’t sound irritated or haughty. She sounded… sad. Lonely. “Opposites attract,” Kimmie whispered.

“We were well balanced. But you—you had so much of him. And so little of me.”

“Mom? I know Josh can be irritating, but he—”

“He’s playing games with you, Kimberly. I never should have suggested you fix my problem.”

I’m severely displeased, Kimberly
. She didn’t say it out loud, but she’d said it after every report card, every piano recital, every science fair, and that time Kimmie’s cookies took second place at her first—and only—county fair.

The only thing Kimmie had ever done right was cake.

And having the one thing she loved be the only thing she did that her mother was proud of dimmed her love for cake.

“I am terminating your extracurricular assignments with Mr. Kincaid,” General Mom said. “I’m unsure as to our next course of action, but I have obviously erred in my strategy.”

You can’t do it, Kimberly
.
You’re incompetent, Kimberly
. “What if Josh agreed to sell the bakery to me after you retire?”

“Kimberly, Mr. Kincaid has risen from the ranks of the poor and unfortunate to the rich and pampered. A man with his background, resources and outward charm will not simply surrender a profitable business to you, and any contract he might present suggesting that he would will be full of legal loopholes that we don’t have the resources to fight. If he’s promised you anything, he’s done so with the intention of taking advantage of an easy adversary. And I sincerely regret that I’ve put you in a position to make you emotionally vulnerable to a man with the money to plan a wedding he has no intention of following through with.”

Kimmie gripped the sides of her apron. She knew Josh wouldn’t marry her. She knew his wedding plans were for show. If he
did
give her a diamond ring, he’d do it to irritate General Mom, as he’d done everything else.

And the worst part was, they
both
needed her for her cake, but she wasn’t sure either believed in her.

Her
mother
didn’t.

Kimmie could quit. She could rip off her apron and walk out and go find another bakery. Go find a new home.

Or she could be brave. “Josh
would
sell me the bakery, Mom. He’s pretty reasonable in private. Lindsey could help
me
write the contract, and Josh would—”

“Kimberly, you have your father’s heart. And that’s a
good
thing. He was a wonderful man. But please don’t fall for Mr. Kincaid’s flattery and false promises. It won’t end well for any of us, most especially you.” General Mom squeezed Kimmie’s arm, then turned toward her office. “Good to have you back, Kimberly. The bakery wasn’t the same without you on Saturday.”

Kimmie glanced around the overwhelmingly white kitchen again.

The bakery was the same.

But Kimmie wasn’t.

A
bag
of potatoes dropping on Josh’s stomach woke him out of a sound sleep. He came up swinging, but the cat—
not
a bag of potatoes—was already bouncing off the opposite wall, chasing pixies.

Or perhaps running from the bra she’d gotten tangled around her tail.

Josh blew out a slow breath while he tilted his head left, then right, stretching out the kink in his neck. “Your cat’s working on its last life,” he called to Kimmie.

She didn’t answer.

Her bedroom door was open, and a set of feline eyes inside peered at him as though she wanted to eat his
dangly bits
for breakfast.

Josh tossed aside his blanket and padded down the hall to the bathroom.

No Kimmie.

But the towels were wet, and her toothbrush had been moved from the porcelain cat toothbrush holder to the shower.

“Kimmie?” he called again.

Still no answer.

And her bedroom and the kitchen were empty.

“
Shit
.”

He freed the cat from the bra, fingered the silky material like a perv, then dashed through a shower. No shaving, but he made sure his suit was impeccable.

He knew better than to go into a battle underdressed.

Twenty minutes after the cat woke him, Josh strolled into the Heaven’s Bakery kitchen without knocking.

Kimmie stood at the industrial mixer, pouring sugar into the massive bowl while the engine whined and the beater spun. Another woman was meticulously piping frosting onto chocolate cupcakes at one of the white tables, her back to him.

The office door was shut.

Josh leaned against the door frame and watched.

Kimmie’s wild hair was fighting the hairnet, but losing. From this angle, he could see that her pink lips were pursed, more on the thoughtful side than anything. If Marilyn had threatened or attacked her this morning, she didn’t show it.

Her hips, clad in purple jeans today, swayed gently while she shook the last of the sugar into the bowl, and her head bobbed as though she were dancing to a song in her head. She brushed her hand over the top of the mixer, almost a caress, and a faint smile curved her lips.

Josh’s groin twitched.

She was beautiful.

Here, he corrected himself. She was beautiful
here
.

There was something sexy about a woman in her element, doing what she was born to do. Kimmie was born to bake cakes. To share sweet delicacies with the world. To spread joy and happiness and
life
with the world.

God help Marilyn if she took that from Kimmie.

Kimmie suddenly froze. Her muscles visibly tensed. She turned her head, and wariness overtook those big blue oceans when they landed on him.

“
Oh!
” The other woman had finished with her frosting and was now gaping at Josh too.

She was one of the two women who had stopped by to check on Kimmie on Saturday. He nodded to her, then pulled a card out of his inner jacket pocket and held it out to her. “Just checking in. If you need anything, call me.”

He
was
half-owner in the bakery.

Time to step up.

The woman shot a look at Kimmie, then at the closed office door. She snatched the card and shoved it in her pocket.

The office door swung open.

Kimmie’s lips and shoulders drooped. She touched her hairnet, leaving a trail of flour or sugar.

Acid nipped at Josh’s stomach. Arthur was right. He’d been complicating Kimmie’s life.

“Mr. Kincaid.”

“Marilyn.”

She pointed to her office.

Josh crossed his arms.

Kimmie slammed the mixer off. “Mom, you know he doesn’t take orders. Josh, quit baiting her. I’m trying to bake a cake here.”

Marilyn straightened. She opened her mouth, but Kimmie held a hand up. “It’s angel food, and it’s
very
particular.”

Marilyn’s jaw clamped shut, and her cheeks took on a jagged hue that receded almost as quickly as it had come.

Josh fought a grin. The cupcake had found her spine. She’d be fine here without him this week. “Couldn’t leave town without telling you goodbye, sugar,” he said.

Kimmie’s eyes flashed. “I had a dream I was a ninja and if I didn’t save the baby walrus, the Armadillo Lord would turn my eggs into tires that wouldn’t whip up right, so I turned the Armadillo Lord into a stuffed rabbit and fed it to the walrus instead.”

That sounded oddly like a threat.

Josh closed the distance between them, settled his hands on her curvy hips, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured loud enough for Marilyn to hear.

“Right,” she muttered, soft enough for Marilyn
not
to hear.

But it was enough for his conscience to hear, and that damned thing added a kick to his heart.

He nodded to the other woman. “Keep up the good work. Marilyn, a pleasure as always. Kimmie, I can be here in an hour if you need
anything
.”

“Your place is two hours away,” Kimmie said.

Without traffic. “Still make it here in an hour if you need me.”

Marilyn marched into her office and slammed the door.

Good.

“I mean it,” he said. “I don’t tolerate my employees being bullied.”

The other woman’s eyes went round.

Something unreadable flickered in Kimmie’s expression.

Something he wanted to puzzle out and smooth away. To fix.

Hell.

He didn’t have time for this. Before he could contemplate the odd thought that he truly would miss Kimmie and her quirky personality this week, he strolled out.

His real life was waiting. And he had real work to do to save his parents’ company.

F
our hours later
, Josh was in his office at Sweet Dreams, digging through the websites for the biggest chain cupcake companies in the nation. Having Kimmie working on cupcake recipes wasn’t enough. He had to market them right, appeal to the right customers, and make a splash big enough to compete with homemade cupcakes.

On a budget tighter than a shoestring.

Exactly the kind of challenge he needed today.

“Knock, knock, sweetheart.”

At Mom’s voice, he looked up from his scribbles, then casually slid his portfolio shut. “Hey.”

The bruise on her temple was an ugly yellow-green, but Mom’s smile eclipsed it. “How was your weekend with Kimmie?”

He frowned.

“Oh, dear. That’s disappointing.” She settled into the maroon leather visitor chair and watched him expectantly. “The pictures certainly made it seem as though you’d had an excellent time, though how you tipped that paddleboat is beyond me.”

“Pictures?”

“Oh, yes. I took the liberty of following some Facebook pages about Bliss. And their Knot Festival. How quaint.” Mom fluttered a hand. “Anyway. It was lovely to see you smiling in the lake. Kimmie too. She has a beautiful smile, doesn’t she? And when were you planning on telling Dad and me about your wedding?”

Josh choked on air. “I, ah—”

“Got caught up in the love?” Mom gave him a Mom-look that dripped with a silent
I know you’re lying to me, but I’ll let you steep in your own guilt by pretending to go along with it
. “We heard the engagement rumors, of course, but we assumed you’d tell us if they were true. In any case, we’re thrilled for you, sweetheart. Kimmie’s good for you. And since you never answered about dinner on Saturday, I took the liberty of calling Kimmie myself this morning. We’re moving dinner to Sunday to accommodate her work schedule. I have to tell you, Josh, I’m pleased that you’re settling with a woman who has a career and a purpose of her own. She’ll keep you on your toes. You need that.”

His tie seemed to be wrapping itself tighter around his windpipe. He needed water. Or a cup of coffee.

Or a healthy dose of better judgment.

Mom
tsk
ed him. “You’re not having cold feet, are you? A girl like Kimmie doesn’t come around every day.”

His smile took him by surprise. “No, she doesn’t.”

Mom arched a brow. “Glad to see you appreciate what you have.”

He was a grade A asshole.

“Now, you tell your dad and me whatever you need for the wedding, and we’ll take care of it. Bliss seems to do weddings wonderfully, don’t they? My God, the cakes that were on Heaven’s Bakery’s Facebook page are works of art. I never gave much thought to your little project with Birdie, but heavens, what a magnificent little bakery. And run by a single mother for so long? Remarkable.”

Josh’s lip curled.

“Oh, dear. Problems with the future mother-in-law?” Mom said.

“Monster-in-law,” he muttered before he could stop himself.

“Mm. Perhaps she should come to dinner on Sunday too. I’ll invite her.”

Josh stood so fast he banged his knees on his desk. “
No
.”

Mom gave him a pointed stare.

“I don’t like how she treats Kimmie,” Josh said.

“The mother-daughter bond is a delicate thing. I strongly suggest you don’t interfere.”

Josh bit his tongue.

Mom stood. “Relationships are far more complicated in the beginning than anyone gives them credit for. You and Kimmie will find your balance in regards to her mother, and hopefully, in another five or twenty years, you’ll come to appreciate your mother-in-law’s unique personality as well. She
did
, after all, raise the woman you love.” She patted his cheek, then reached up for an air-kiss. “Do watch out for your father today. He had his first appointment with his trainer this morning, and I’m afraid he’s going to take it out on the world.”

Josh nodded, then grabbed Mom in an impulsive hug.

She squeezed him tight.

“There’s more to life than Sweet Dreams, Josh,” she whispered.

Easy for her to say.

She didn’t know how close they were to losing it.

He saw his mom out of his office with a smile that he didn’t feel. He was a jackass. Kimmie needed to break up with him and put them both out of their misery.

His heart squeezed so hard he physically struggled to draw a breath.

“Problem, Romeo?” Aiden asked. He stopped outside Josh’s office with a devious grin.

“Shut up,” Josh grunted.

Aiden snickered. “Got a test run of that recipe you emailed me last night.”

“And?”

Aiden held out a small white box. “Your girl’s something else. Don’t fuck it up with her. I want her to teach me how to bake like that. Also, I call best man. Not that you have any other options.”

Josh’s eye twitched. But he ignored Aiden and lifted the lid of the box.

Inside were four round chocolate cakes, each coated with a flat layer of chocolate frosting. They didn’t appear much different from a ChocoNut Puff.

“Come to think of it,” Aiden said, “
do
fuck it up with her. I’d like a shot at that.”

“Get the hell out.”

“Gladly. Don’t need to see you making love to a cupcake.” He left, still chuckling.

Josh lifted a cake, inspected it top, bottom, and side, then pulled it apart. A gooey caramel fudge stretched out between the moist cake halves. He closed his eyes, took a bite, tasted chocolate, and he saw Kimmie.

With a wide, unrestrained smile, blue eyes dancing, hair curling wildly around her porcelain cheeks.

The cake lodged somewhere behind his heart on its way down.

He shut his laptop lid, closed the box, and skipped the wait for the elevator to dash up the stairs.

He walked past Dad’s secretary and pushed into the plush office.

Dad looked up, then winced like a man using forgotten muscles for the first time.

And Josh was about to negate the workout that had put him in pain.

Without a word, Josh put the box on Dad’s desk.

“New line?” Dad asked.

Josh nodded.

Dad pulled a fork from his top drawer, inspected the cake, and then closed his eyes and took a bite. A low moan rumbled in his chest, and when his eyes opened, they were on the unfocused side. He blinked, then forked up another bite.

“Mm.” He chewed slower, brows pinched together, while he slowly nodded. “Ralph made these?”

“Aiden did.”

“Holy hell. Shelf life?”

“Working on it.”

“Other flavors?”

“Working on it.”

“Marketing plan?”

“Working on it.”

“Production cost analysis?”

“Ugly, but working on it.”

“You got time to plan your wedding while you’re doing all this too?”

Josh barely suppressed a flinch. “Beautiful thing about Bliss. They do all the work for you.”

“Smart thinking, son.” Dad forked up another bite of cupcake. “You put magic in this?”

Josh grinned. “Something like that.”

“Brilliant move, getting yourself engaged to a baker.” Dad frowned. “Your mother likes her. A lot.”

“Mom would adore any woman of childbearing age.”

Dad grunted. “
I
like her.”

The worst of it was, Josh liked her too. More than he was comfortable admitting. Once he’d gotten past Kimmie’s mother and her flightiness, she was easy to like.

Too easy.

“Wouldn’t have brought home anybody else,” Josh said. And despite knowing Kimmie wasn’t
his
, and never would be his, he still meant it.

Dad hit a button on his phone. “Sandy, clear my schedule. Get Aiden Murphy in here. Now.”

“Yes, Mr. Kincaid,” Sandy’s canned voice said.

Dad took another bite, and a giddy, almost boyish grin crossed his features. “Let’s see those little mom-and-pop bakeries compete with
this
.”

That cupcake came up and lodged itself behind Josh’s heart again, but he swallowed it. This was about business. About saving his parents the way they’d saved him. Not about twinges in his stomach and guilt when he thought about Kimmie’s livelihood coming from one of those mom-and-pop bakeries.

Guilt didn’t win. Guilt didn’t pay the bills. Guilt wouldn’t save his dad’s company from impending bankruptcy.

The guilt had to go.

The girl too, honestly.

Because even if Josh
did
like her—and he did—Kimmie was the marrying type, and he wasn’t.

She’d want love. Commitment. Stability. Children.