Wicked Appetite - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,31
me when I got here.”
“Have you ever seen Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?”
Diesel smiled. “Do you care?”
“I’m curious.”
“She’s pretty, but she’s not my type,” Diesel said.
“What’s your type?”
“Easy.”
“I guess that leaves me out, too.”
“Yeah. And it’s a real pain in the ass.”
A light rain started to fall, and Diesel switched the wipers on. Even in bright sunlight, New England mostly looks practical. When it rains, it can be downright grim. The outside of the bakery is weathered gray clapboard, with nautical blue shutters, and the hand-painted sign over the door simply says DAZZLE’S. I like the way the building has aged, and that I have a sense of history when I walk through the front door. And I especially like that on a dark, rainy day, the inside light pours out through the two large display windows onto the sidewalk, like a beacon advertising cake and happiness.
Henley’s Hardware is to one side in a structure almost as old as Dazzle’s. The small, bedraggled saltbox on the other side of the bakery has changed hands twice in the short amount of time I’ve been here. The current occupants are trying to make a go of a vintage movie poster shop.
Diesel cruised past Vintage Posters, Dazzle’s, and Henley’s and turned at the corner. At this early hour, the bakery showroom was dark and the front door was locked. Diesel drove down the service alley running behind the bakery, and from half a block away, I could see light spilling out the open back door to the bakery kitchen.
“I guess if you have to go to work at this unholy hour, a bakery is about as good as it gets,” Diesel said. “I wouldn’t mind being surrounded by cakes and pies every morning.”
I looked over at him. “You aren’t gluttonously hungry, are you?”
“No. I’m normally hungry. How about you?”
“I’d eat your sneakers if they had barbecue sauce on them. It’s not fair. You’ve got the charm, and I’m the one eating everything in sight.”
“I guess you’re the chosen one,” Diesel said. “Too bad we aren’t collecting the SALIGIA charms that control lust. You’d be thinner, and I’d be happier.”
The thought sent a shudder through me. I already had a lot of lust for Diesel without help from an enchanted charm. I didn’t want to contemplate enchanted lust. I mean, suppose I wanted Diesel with the same intensity I wanted a jelly doughnut or a Rice Krispies Treat! I might cripple him.
Diesel smiled.
“You didn’t hear that, did you?” I asked him.
“No, but you were looking at me like I was a turkey dinner.”
He parked in the small lot behind the bakery, cut the engine, and released his seat belt.
“You don’t have to come in,” I told him.
“Sure I do. I’m the big strong Unmentionable who’s protecting you. I’m sticking to you like glue.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I want you to go far, far away. I think it must be that the charm is too close to me. Maybe you should put it in a safe-deposit box or FedEx it to your boss.”
“I can’t give the charm to the BUM yet. I need to keep the charm until we get all the pieces and I’m sure we have the original Stone.”
“I’m having a hard time thinking straight right now,” I said. “I can’t get my mind off bacon, but I’m sure I’ll be fine without you. I have Clara and Glo to protect me.”
I jumped out of the SUV, ran to the bakery door, and made shooing gestures at Diesel. Diesel watched me for a moment and took off.
“We have an order for sixty cupcakes for a lunchtime baby shower today,” Clara said. “Yellow cake with pink icing.”
A warm flush ran from my chest to my stomach. “I love yellow cake and pink icing.”
“You look kind of goofy,” Clara said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was just thinking about the cakes.”
Clara powered up the big bread mixer. “And don’t forget Shirley increased her order.”
I got butter and milk from the fridge and set it out on my workstation. “I’m on it.”
Ten minutes later, I had a cauldron of cake batter in front of me.
“What are you doing?” Clara yelled from across the room.
“I’m making cake.”
“No, you’re not. You’re eating cake. I’ve been watching you. You’ve eaten half the batter.”
I stared into the bowl. Clara was right. There was a lot of batter missing.
“I’ve never seen you scarf down raw batter like that,” Clara said. “What’s going on?”
I told her about