Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,110

since my fight with Cage, I’ve started coming in super early, earlier than usual—two o’clock… three—which makes for a long day. But I’d rather make myself useful instead of lying in bed, trying to solve problems I don’t have the answer to.

Why did Cage hang up on me?

When is he coming home?

What will he say once he gets here?

Do I have a chance to make things right between us?

I rub at my chest as I make my way over to the dumpster. “God, I hope so,” I mutter, heaving the heavy bag over the edge. Before heading back inside, I take a minute to breathe deeply, assuring myself that whether or not I make things right with Cage, I’m going to be alright. He helped me see that and it’s something I’ll always be grateful for. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss him or that I don’t want him back… but I’ll survive.

When I get back inside, I continue with the muffin making until every tray is full of my go-to recipes lately—I Fall to Pieces, Crazy, and Going Through the Big D. But I also made a last-minute addition of I Will Survive—an espresso and chocolate masterpiece—and my new favorite, I Will Always Love You—a lemon blueberry with buttercream drizzle… it reminds me of Cage. Lemon for his blond hair and blueberry for his eyes… even though his eyes are blue, blue… like a glacier-fed lake.

“Daydreaming?” Mikey asks, nudging my shoulder and pulling me out of my thoughts.

Quickly going back to my task at hand, I huff out a laugh. “No, just… tired, I guess.”

I turn to help a customer who just walked in when I see a very disheveled-looking Asher standing at the counter. For a second, I think about turning the other way and forcing someone else to help him, but I’m not going to. I have nothing to hide and I’ve said my peace.

“What can I get for you?” I ask, treating him like any other customer, even giving him a smile, because I’m the bigger person in this situation and I refuse to let him bring me down to his level.

“A minute of your time,” he says, his eyes on mine. “Please.”

“We’re pretty busy, so whatever you have to say, you can say it here.”

Asher’s eyes dart around the bakery, taking inventory of who’s here, obviously having something to say that he doesn’t want spread around the town.

Just as I’m losing my patience, he clears his throat and drops his voice low. “You were right,” he mutters, leaning closer to the counter. “About… everything—the analysis, the baby—everything.”

Something like sweet satisfaction sings through my soul.

Not that I care, because I don’t, but it’s just the joy in knowing that I at least had something about Asher pegged right. When I don’t say anything in response, he continues. “I… I think I made a mistake.”

“Which one would that be?” I ask, not taking any care to keep my part of the conversation hidden, but also not looking to make a scene… again. “The one where you slept with someone else while you were married to me. Oh, wait,” I say, sarcasm thick in my tone. “That’s right… you slept with her before we ever got married. You know, I’m wondering why you didn’t just marry her in the first place. You could’ve saved us all a lot of grief and heartache.”

“It was a mistake,” Asher repeats, weariness evident all over his face. “Ever since the night at the reunion, I haven’t been able to sleep. Mindy finally admitted that she knew all along the baby wasn’t mine, but she wanted it to be.” He rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “So typical of her.”

The smile that creeps up on my face is probably scary and cynical, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass.

“Sounds to me like y’all might need some marriage counseling,” I tell him, taking a fresh stack of boxes to the end of the counter and begin folding. If I’m going to stand around and jack my jaws, I should at least be productive.

“That’s the thing,” Asher says, following me down the counter. “I don’t think I can do it… I’m sorry… for everything.”

Pausing mid box folding, I look at him like he’s lost his damn mind.

“Well, I appreciate the apology… even though it’s too little, too late, but there is no way in hell I’d ever… ever,” I repeat, holding his gaze so there is no misunderstanding here. “I’ll never take