Page 4 of My Favorite Kidnapper

I longed for the day I didn’t have to work for her. When I had my own bakery. But until I paid off some of my student loans and was in the position to open my own shop, it was my life.

For now.

I wondered what the stranger with the wandering lips would think of the cake now that it was done.

I tried not to think of his firm mouth pressed to mine. How tall he was. The heat and muscles I felt under his perfectly cut suit. The air of power and control he exuded. He looked stern and forbidding, yet he had teased me, his voice oddly placid when he spoke.

The way he smelled—like something exotic and decadent. Rich. How gentle his touch had been.

How I had almost wished he had kissed me again instead of stealing my cupcakes.

A squeal behind me brought me out of my musings. Carolina rushed forward, stopping in front of the table, her hand covering her mouth. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at the cake table.

“Bri,” she murmured. “It’s so incredible!”

Her mother strolled in, stopping in amazement. “I had no idea,” she said. “How spectacular!”

Mrs. Frost had wanted a traditional cake. Ten tiers. Piped flowers. Bride and groom on top. Carolina had been adamant. “I agreed to an indoor wedding, Mom. But I want my woodland theme, and I want the cake Bri sketched for me.”

She had won the battle, and I could see from the pleased expression on her mother’s face she was glad she had given in.

“It will be the talk of the crowd,” Mrs. Frost said with a smile. “Young lady, you are exceedingly talented.”

“She is going to own her own bakery one day,” Carolina said as she slipped her arm around my waist, hugging me.

“You should do it soon,” Mrs. Frost murmured.

I bit my tongue before I informed her it cost a lot of money to start up a business. Unless I had a sugar daddy, that wasn’t happening right now.

Unbidden, the image of the man from earlier, the cupcake stealer, came to mind. I pushed that errant thought away but grabbed on to the flash of annoyance.

“Some old guy was in here earlier,” I told Carolina. “Stole a few cupcakes. I had to tell him off.”

“Oh no. Who was he?”

I shrugged. “A staff member showing up for work early, I assume.” He’d said he didn’t work here, but I thought he was lying to save his job.

“I’ll investigate,” Mrs. Frost assured me.

I shook my head. “I told him off, and he didn’t do any harm. He was quite complimentary, aside from the cupcake stealing.”

“Sounds like something Dad would do.” Carolina smirked. “Or Uncle Dante.”

Mrs. Frost laughed. “Yes, they both have a sweet tooth, which you inherited. But Dante isn’t coming until later, and he isn’t old.” At my confused look, she smiled. “He is Paolo’s older brother by two years and Carolina’s godfather. He lives out of the country.” She lifted her eyebrows. “He is rather high-handed.”

“And grumpy as hell a lot of the time,” Carolina added. “He speaks mostly in grunts and frowns.”

I thought of the teasing way the stranger was with me. His smile as he ate the cupcakes. The fleeting feeling of his lips pressed to mine.

Not grumpy at all.

“Ah.”

Mrs. Frost looked at her watch. “Come, Carolina, we need to get you ready. The wedding is in three hours.”

Carolina hugged me again. “Thank you for the cake. It’s breathtaking. And you’ll be here, right?”

“Yep. Until it is cut and served.”