Kiss My Cupcake(86)

His expression turns panicked, like he suddenly realizes what he’s said and where. He doesn’t address Tori, but he does address me. “I’m so in love with you,” he says softly, with conviction.

“And I’m so in love with you,” I whisper back. If I hadn’t made the decision to go out on my own I never would have met him, or had the chance to fall for him.

His smile is beautiful. He dips down and presses his lips to mine. “I can’t wait to take you home and show you how much I love you,” he murmurs.

I’m all for that, but I’m not sure all of Tori’s subscribers need to know about it. “There are cameras rolling,” I say against his lips, trying my best to keep his tongue from sliding between mine.

His gaze darts to Tori and the cameraman. “Damn it. Right. I keep forgetting this is a live thing.”

We all burst into laughter and Tori turns to face the camera. “I think we all know this one has a happy ending. So make sure to come visit The Knight Cap and Buttercream and Booze, and maybe you, too, will find your very own happily ever after.”





epilogue





I Love You More

than Cupcakes


Ronan



Three months later

Gramps hoists himself up onto one of the barstools and pulls a bottle of my homebrew out of the inside pocket of his coat and sets it on the bar. “Uncap that for me, Ronan.”

I shake my head but do as he asks, then retrieve a pint glass from the freezer.

“No, no. I want it out of the bottle.”

“You can’t drink this out of the bottle, Gramps.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. It’s my damn bar.”

“This guy giving you a hard time?” Blaire sidles up beside me.

“He won’t let me drink my beer out of the bottle.” Gramps gives me the stink eye. “I’m not gonna start a bar fight with it.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I know you’re not. The problem is that we don’t carry this in the pub, and if people see they might want to know what it is and you’ll be drinking the only one ’cause you brought your own beer into the bar.”

“Well, start serving it and I won’t have to bring my own.”

I shrug. “I don’t have enough space to brew it in large batches yet.”

“I already said I’d cut you the check,” he grumbles.

I lean an arm on the bar. “When’d you say that?”

He waves a hand around in the air. “I’m old, how am I supposed to remember when. After you won that Best Bar award, I said I’d cut you a check for the start-up cost.”

“Are you sure you said it out loud?”

Gramps gives me a look and turns to Blaire. “Are you listening to this? Giving this old guy a hard time, making me question my memory. It’s ageism is what it is!”

“Maybe you already cut him the check and he’s messing with you to make you think you didn’t,” Blaire teases.

I lean on the bar and fight a smile. “Whose side are you on?”

She grins up at me. “I’m not taking sides on this.”

“Sounds like she’s taking my side.” Gramps gives her a wink and an affectionate smile. “When you putting a ring on Blaire’s finger? Everyone’s waiting for it, ya know.”

“Yeah, Gramps, I know. Everyone needs to find some chill about it, too.” I kiss Blaire on the temple. We’ve only been together for a few months, but I can’t see my life without her. “And I’ve been thinking about the brewery situation lately.”

“I’ll miss driving in to work with you.” Blaire gives my arm a squeeze.

“Well, that’s the thing…Lars is a good kid, but he isn’t anywhere near ready to take over this place, and I kinda like what we’ve got going on here.” I put my arm around Blaire’s shoulder and pull her in closer. “People really love what we’re doing, and I figure I can put the brewery on hold until we can settle on a location.”

“But that’s what you’ve been working toward,” Blaire says.

Gramps nods and sips his beer, a hint of a smile there, like maybe he knew this was coming. “The McCurdys next door have been thinking about selling. At least that’s what Bertie says pretty much every time I go over to buy some cold cuts.”

“If they decide to sell we could look at what it would take to convert it. Wouldn’t take much to make a doorway to connect the two,” I say.

“Things to think about.” Gramps shifts his attention to Blaire. “Might be a good time to mention that thing you were thinking about. Pretty sure you might be on the same page.”

Blaire gives him a meaningful look. “I’m not sure now is the time.”

I look between them, unnerved that Gramps and Blaire are having conversations about whatever, apparently behind my back. “Now isn’t the time for what?”

Gramps wears an expression that looks a lot like a smirk and then turns away as a couple of his friends walk through the front door—they’ve taken to coming out at least once a week for beers and wings—and he slips off the stool. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to talk.”

“Are you going to explain what that’s about?” I motion between Gramps and Blaire as he ambles over to one of the four-tops.