I’m about to break in and tell him to order and let her get back to work, but she pushes up her thick-framed glasses. “Um, devil’s food is richer than plain chocolate. Along with using cocoa powder for the flavor, I add a pinch of coffee to mine. Increased baking soda makes it fluffier. I don’t offer angel food cake unless the strawberries are excellent, and even then, I’d rather make shortcake.”
“Why’s that?” Cruz asks.
She blinks again. “I like it more.”
He chuckles. “Fair enough. I’ll take a devil’s food cupcake and a lemon-lime soda.”
“Put mine on his tab,” I joke from behind him.
“We don’t do tabs,” she says quietly in her firm Elodie way.
“He’s being cheap,” Cruz says. “Double it and he can have what I’m having, since I’ve got such good taste.”
The guy would flirt with a rock, but he seemsunrepentant around Elodie Palmer. He doesn’t tease her sister, Clem, quite as unrepentantly, but then Clem is more relaxed around him than Elodie. A brushfire blazes across the baker’s cheeks. She rings up his order and serves us the food.
“You’ve gotta leave her alone,” I murmur to him as we cross to the booth the others are in. “She’s going to combust or implode.”
“I’m going to crack that shell.” He gestures for me to slide in beside Haven and grabs a chair from an empty table nearby. “Just watch. Campbell said she’d be right back, and Elodie will talk a mile a minute to her.”
I ignore everything he said but one thing. “Campbell was here?” Damn, I missed her?
“For a minute,” he says. “She’s gotta talk about wedding catering or something.”
Lane swipes his finger through the rippled frosting on Cruz’s cupcake. Cruz lunges for him, but Lane gets out of the way fast enough.
Lane licks the chocolate off and grins. “Is he still cranking about how he can’t wrap Elodie around his finger?”
“Again?” Haven asks.
Cruz scowls and peels his cupcake open. The apples of his cheeks flush. Damn. Does he have a thing for the shy baker, or does his pride just hurt?
“He’s charmed the whole damn town,” Lane says. “But Elodie gives him the side-eye.”
“Smart girl,” Haven says and grins when the frown is aimed his way.
“I learn shit when she talks, but she barely speaks around me,” Cruz complains.
Their voices turn into a background drone. Campbellbreezes through the entrance, flicking her long, loose hair over her shoulder. She shoves her sunglasses to the top of her head. The way she’s dressed makes my mouth dry.
It’s warmer out today than it has been. A baby-blue tank top with spaghetti straps hits the top of her jeans, teasing me with a strip of bare flesh across her abdomen. Her hips roll as she walks and she waves when Elodie spots her.
Goddamn, it’s like a ray of sunshine barged right into the little bakery.
I miss what the guys are saying, but Cruz is staring at me. His eyes dance and the grin is a warning. Fuck.
He licks all his frosting off the top of the cupcake with one stroke, that infuriating grin still in place.
Campbell sees us and her smile widens. “A meeting of the Foster House minds.”
“We have a sweet tooth,” Cruz says, smacking his lips, “and a craving that can only be fulfilled by sugar or spirits. For most of us.” His mischievous attention is still on me.
She folds her arms, a smile dancing across her pretty lips. “That would make a really good tagline for— I don’t know for what.”
“Got any ideas?” Cruz asks me.
I shoot him a scowl. “Potato chips.”
He snorts and the rest of the guys chuckle, hopefully oblivious to Cruz giving me a hard time.
