pay. I’m hoping we can handle whatever gets thrown at us. She looks adorable in her Buttercream and Booze shirt, and her shoes have a lemon wedge print on them, which is beyond perfect. Thankfully, Daphne’s agreed to help out this morning and not to take photos. I’m so freaking lucky to have her as a friend.
I clap my hands excitedly, smooth my palms over my apron and adjust the hem of my dress. Today I’m wearing an off-white dress with a huge lemon slice pattern. I added a temporary lemon slice tattoo on my cheek, decorated with a tiny yellow jewel.
I give Callie a brief rundown of the specials. While I expect the majority of my business to cater to the lunch, afternoon, and cocktail hour crowd, it seems spiked coffees might very well be a hit this morning, considering the line of people waiting for the doors to officially open.
We’re only a few blocks from the university, and there are several student-centric apartment buildings close by, as well as plenty of local businesses.
The first hour is mayhem of the most delicious sort. It doesn’t matter that it’s not even noon—almost everyone seems to want cupcakes and coffee or tea. The college crowd and the Saturday shoppers fill the café in the early afternoon, the two-for-one cupcake coupons are piling up, and I’m kept busy making martinis and bourbon old-fashioneds while Callie works the cash. Daphne sticks around since we’re far busier than I anticipated, which is not a bad problem to have.
Around three in the afternoon the door tinkles and Lumberjerk weaves his way through the tables, making every single woman in the place—college students, mothers, grandmothers—and a good percentage of the men do a double take.
Daphne whistles low under her breath. “Holy crap I think my panties just lit themselves on fire.”
I shoot her a look. “He’s not that hot.”
She gives me her seriously face but she doesn’t have a chance to respond because he’s already standing in front of us. I plaster on a smile. “I think you’re in the wrong place. Axe throwing is next door.”
“Blaire.” Daphne elbows me in the side.
He smiles back, widely. As if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me and every damn woman in here. “I thought I’d stop by and grab one of those cupcakes everyone seems to be freaking out over.” He pulls a two-for-one cupcake coupon out of his back pocket. Where it’s been curved around his tight ass.
Not that I’ve noticed how tight it is over the past week. Okay. I’ve totally noticed. Every single time he’s walked past the front window.
He passes me the coupon and I snatch it from him with more aggression than necessary, which makes that smile of his widen even more. Damn him and his perfect teeth and his sexy eye-crinkles. I motion to the display case of cupcakes, each tray labeled based on flavor with a description of the cake and frosting combination. “What tickles your fancy?” I cringe internally at my terrible choice of wording.
Ronan tips his head to the side and his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth. I want to shove it back in—with a mixing spoon.
He shrugs. “What you do recommend?”
“How about some Death by Chocolate?”
He chuckles. “I’m not really a fan of chocolate cake, or death.”
“Not a fan? Obviously you’ve been eating the wrong cake.” Daphne’s voice is smoky and low, like she’s thinking about eating one of those Death by Chocolate cupcakes off his naked chest, while riding him.
“Maybe.” He shuffles over a few steps and leans in, peering at the options. He taps on the front of the case, leaving behind a fingerprint. “Bourbon bacon cupcake with maple buttercream? That sounds good. I’ll try one of those.”
“Would you like it to go?” Yes, I’m trying to get him out of my shop as quickly as possible since his mere presence is a gray cloud hanging over what’s supposed to be a sunshiny day.
His gaze lifts, wry smile firmly in place. “Nah, I’ll sample the goods right here, but thanks.”
I slip my hand into a pale pink non-latex glove and pluck one of the cupcakes from the display case, then wait for him to decide on his second one.
“The lemon drop cupcake is a featured special today if you’d like to give it a try.”
“Hmm. Is it sour?” The like you is clearly intimated, though unspoken.
“It has some pucker power, if that’s what you mean. It’s a good balance