Fake It Till You Bake It(5)

She froze. “I say it’s time for me to go.” She thrust the cupcake at him, forcing him to take it or end up with cake and frosting all over his shirt, then jerked her chin at Olivia. “Come on.”

Without another word, Critic marched toward the door, moving like she was made to walk the runway, the jumpsuit hugging her swinging hips in the best way possible.

“That means I won,” he called after her. He resolutely ignored the panic that had unexpectedly surged through his entire body at proof of her impending departure. He never panicked. About anything. Besides, he only had time to care about football and the store, and an attraction to a woman who talked smack about his cupcake shop was neither of those things.

She halted, then spun to face him. “No, that means the cupcake was … decent.” The bougieness was back in full force. Her gaze swept the space. “The atmosphere, not so much.” She locked eyes with him. “I won’t be back.”

“We both know you don’t mean that.” He saluted her with her abandoned cupcake and a wink because why the hell not? He’d obviously lost his damn mind. “See you next time.”

The snick of the closing door was her only response.

“Good going, boss,” Ella called out from behind him.

Donovan groaned. Damn, he needed a cupcake.





Chapter Two


“Not a word,” Jada Townsend-Matthews said to her best friend, Olivia Madison, as she strode down the sidewalk away from the cupcake shop. And that guy with a stick up his ass.

“I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to enjoy the best cupcake I’ve had since the last time I stopped by Sugar Blitz.” Olivia took a bite of the dessert and stared hard at Jada.

Jada’s shoulders hunched defensively. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

Olivia’s stare didn’t waver.

“I mean I wasn’t trying to do anything.” Somehow, she just found herself in these situations.

“No, you were speaking your mind like you always do.” Olivia grinned. “Which is one of the things I love most about you.”

“Thanks.” She needed to hear that, especially now. Olivia was her ride or die, the one who stuck by her side no matter what. Jada’s mouth always got her into trouble. Always. One day she’d learn to control it. One day.

“At least he didn’t know who you were,” Olivia added.

Thank God for small favors. For a moment there, when he’d said “excuse me,” she thought she’d turn around to find a phone in her face, either so the guy could take a picture and post it to his social media app of choice or show her the most humiliating moment of her life, a clip she’d seen, oh, a million gazillion times over the last two weeks since it had first been broadcast to the world.

Most people didn’t have their most embarrassing moments recorded by a professional camera crew, then aired on national TV and then replayed over and over and over on the internet. She wasn’t most people. Never had been. Never would be, apparently.

“It’s not like I was lying,” she said. “The place was like a mausoleum. Cold and sterile.”

“Girl, I don’t care what the place looks like.” Olivia saluted her with the treat she’d had the good sense not to get rid of on her way out of the store. “The cupcakes are amazing.”

Jada shrugged, then took a deep breath. She needed to relax. Being home, close to the beach, basking in the fantastic San Diego weather and the cool breeze from the nearby ocean was supposed to accomplish that feat. So far, mission not accomplished.

“More importantly, dude was fine,” Olivia added.

Jada made a face. “Was he? I didn’t notice. Not with that stern high school principal vibe he was giving off.”

“You didn’t notice those thick, hard thighs that could crack walnuts?”

A vision of Cupcake Guy and his aforementioned thighs crystallized in her mind. Jada shook her head, doing her best to dislodge the image, and took the opportunity to study the oh-so-fascinating cracks in the sidewalk. “Nope.”

“The wide, broad shoulders and biceps threatening to break the seams of his polo?”

“Nope.” That was her story, and she was sticking to it like Ariana Grande did with her ponytail.

“The scrumptious dark brown skin? The full lips? The deep, commanding voice?”

Jada rolled her eyes. “You mean the lips that I’m pretty sure are permanently pressed tight in disapproval? The how-dare-you-not-agree-with-everything-I-say voice?”

Her BFF snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, okay.” Olivia’s second snort morphed into laughter. “You called the man’s cupcakes stale,” she said through her cackling.

Jada’s nose lifted. “I said they were decent.” They were actually fantastic, not that she’d admit that out loud in a million years, especially not to him. Granted, she’d never see him again, but still it was important to take a metaphorical stand. See you next time, he’d said in that deep, commanding voice she’d just told Olivia she didn’t think was deep and commanding.

“After you called them stale,” Olivia corrected.

Jada tried not to squirm. “I mean … well … it’s not like they were his cupcakes. He was toeing the company line.”