Sugarcoated Read online

  That had always been a perfect solution to the space issue around holidays and family get-togethers when the guys stayed for a few days.

  Perfect until she’d made a complete and total ass of herself. In Aiden’s bedroom. Hell, she still blushed when she walked past the room five months later.

  “No,” she said softly, shaking her head. She was aware she was not playing this cool as she’d wanted to. But her heart was suddenly pounding and she felt hot. She kind of wanted to head back to the freezer.

  Aiden stepped through the doors into the front of the bakery. “Yes,” he said. His voice was a little gruff and firm.

  Her stomach flipped. Gruff and firm? That wasn’t Aiden. But it was really working for her.

  Uh-oh.

  “We can’t be there. Alone. Together. Now.” She sounded like an idiot. But he knew very well what she was talking about. He’d rejected her. She’d made a fool of herself. She couldn’t relive that with him every day for however long he was staying.

  “Yes. We can.”

  Yeah, there was definitely a little huskiness in his voice. And her stupid stomach swooped again at the sound. This horniness was a huge problem, and when facing the man who had started the whole thing, it was simply the worst idea to have him staying with her.

  Could she use her vibrator, knowing he was just down the hall?

  Taking in the sight of him in that suit and tie, her first and only thought was, Hell yeah, I can.

  “The idea of that is…” she started.

  He gave her a slow, stupidly sexy smile.

  “Horrifying,” she finished.

  2

  Maybe not exactly the word he’d expected her to use, but Aiden understood where Zoe was coming from. He’d known this first time seeing her was going to be a little awkward. But they’d get past it. He just needed to tell her he’d worked everything out, and he was totally on board now. He would be very happy to help divest her of her virginity.

  In fact, his entire body reacted to the mere idea of it with a hot, primal surge of mine that was actually shocking in its intensity.

  But before he could tell her that—there was no point in beating around the bush after knowing her for twenty-five years and the brazen way she’d come into his bedroom on Christmas Eve—someone came through the front door of the bakery to pick up a cake.

  Aiden moved to the cluster of little round white tables where people could enjoy their bakery items and coffee inside the cheery, iconic bakery.

  He took a deep breath as he chose the table close to a window and sank into the bistro chair with the wrought-iron back that curved into a heart shape. He was here. He was home, and things were in motion. Seeing Zoe again had been step one. Well, after packing up most of his life in Chicago and driving back to Iowa. To stay.

  The window was on the side of the bakery and looked out onto what was essentially an alley between the bakery and the antique store next door. The alley, however, was as wide as a street, paved in cobblestones, had little benches and planters full of flowers set along the length, and twinkle lights draped overhead between the two exterior brick walls. People used the alley to cut through from Main Street to Railroad Avenue, the street with the bar and café in this half of town. He had to admit, at night when the alleyway was lit up, it was pretty cool.

  He smoothed his tie and sat back. Was he going to stick around and watch Zoe work? Yes, he was. He was going to talk to her the very first chance he had. If he had to wait for her to bake four cakes, frost six more, and wait on a hundred people, he would. She had to understand he was back for her. Before she found out about him buying Hot Cakes, the snack cake company that had been operating in Appleby since 1969.

  The company had gone up for sale three days ago, and as soon as he’d seen the notice he’d known this was the way he was going to get back to Appleby and Zoe.

  He was a millionaire. He and his best friends had developed the biggest online video game to hit the market in the past decade and had become wildly successful. And rich. He could have moved back to small town Iowa with nothing more than what he had in his bank account.

  But he wanted more than that. He’d promised his mom before she died that he’d do something important with his life. That he’d make sure he did something that mattered. He’d been working on that since she’d died fifteen years ago. And for the past one year and eleven months—ever since he’d realized he was in love with Zoe McCaffery—he’d been trying to figure out how to do that in tiny Appleby, Iowa.

  Now he knew. He had to buy the Hot Cakes factory, protect three-hundred-some jobs, and save his hometown.

  And marry Zoe.

  Which sounded easy enough.

  If Hot Cakes wasn’t her major competitor and if she wouldn’t hate him for buying it and keeping it open, of course. And if she’d forgive him for turning her down for sex five months ago.

  Yeah, he had some work to do.

  “So who died?” Jocelyn asked as she approached with a cup of coffee.

  She set it down on the tabletop for him along with a little silver pitcher of cream. Ah, Josie had remembered how he liked his coffee.

  He ran his hand over his tie again. “No one. Came straight from the office.”

  He’d worn the suit on purpose. He knew Zoe liked him in a suit.

  Aiden remembered the one time he’d been in a suit in Appleby. It had been for the funeral of a beloved teacher about year and a half ago. Zoe had been coming down the stairs and looked up from messing with her necklace on about the third stair. She’d seen him standing there and had nearly tumbled down the rest of the staircase. He’d caught her on the second step. Their gazes had met. Instant heat and awareness had sparkled between them. For just a second. Before her brother had said, “Jesus, Zoe, if you can’t handle the heels, go put on some different shoes.”

  Had Aiden thought he needed an extra edge today, seeing her for the first time since she’d kissed him? When he was here to tell her he wanted her, forever? Oh, and that he was also buying her archenemy’s company? And planning to keep it going?

  Yes, definitely. He’d figured he should use any extra advantage he could come up with.

  Judging by her reaction to seeing him in the bakery, that had been the right call. She was a little jumpy, and her skin was flushed and she was clearly worked up. This was good. So, so good.

  “You came straight here, to the bakery, from your office in Chicago?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Yep.”

  A metal tray clattered against the granite surface of the work island as if someone had just dropped it, and both Aiden and Jocelyn winced.

  “You know that you embarrassed the hell out of her at Christmas, right?” Jocelyn asked.

  Aiden grimaced. Dammit. Josie knew about Christmas. And Zoe’s offer. And Aiden’s response.

  “She has nothing to be embarrassed about. I loved every minute.”

  Josie gave him a wow-you’re-a-dumbass look. “I think it was the ‘no’ followed by you physically picking her up off of you and setting her on the floor that maybe made her think ‘loving it’ wasn’t really where you were at.”

  Aiden coughed. Yeah, Zoe had definitely shared all the details.

  He glanced at Zoe. She was working with her back to him and Josie. Maybe trying to ignore him.

  Dammit.

  He’d thought she’d be angry. That he could have handled. She was scrappy. She’d been raised, in part, by a grandmother who’d kept a personal grudge against her childhood best friend for over fifty years. But he hadn’t expected Zoe to be ashamed of what had happened.

  God, that night she’d been… everything he wanted wrapped in a hot-pink silk-and-lace package. But yeah, to be fair, who the hell turned that down? Who the hell turned down a gorgeous, smart, funny, sassy woman when she showed up in lingerie in his bedroom, period?

  A guy who wanted a lot more than that from her. A guy who would want to marry her afterward. A guy who hadn’t had any idea how to make it all work in t
hat moment. Especially with the sight of her nearly naked scrambling his brain.

  He hadn’t handled it well. Clearly. But he was here now to make up for that.

  “Okay, I get that I have some making up to do,” he told Josie.

  “It took you five months to figure that out?”

  Aiden shook his head. “No. It took me about an hour to figure that out. It took me five months to come up with how to do it.”

  Josie frowned. “It took you five months to come up with apologizing?”

  “Oh, I’m not apologizing,” Aiden said.

  Josie leaned in and lowered her voice. “You’re not apologizing? We’re talking about what happened Christmas Eve, right?”

  “We are,” he said. He looked past her at Zoe, who was boxing up cupcakes for a customer. But her body was stiff and her cheeks were flushed. She felt awkward having him here. But she was aware of him. He could work with that. “I’m not sorry about Christmas Eve.” He met Jocelyn’s gaze. “I’m sorry she was hurt by it, but I’m not sorry for saying no. That was the right call. I couldn’t go there with her then. She’ll understand why as soon as we talk.”

  Now Josie looked suspicious. “But you’re planning to go there now?”

  “And more.”

  One of Josie’s eyebrows arched. “What’s your plan?”

  “Sweep her off her feet, of course,” he said with a grin.

  Josie’s eyes widened. Then she straightened and gave a little laugh. “Oh. Of course. Well, good luck with that.”

  Aiden frowned. “What do you mean?” He didn’t need luck. This was Zoe. And him. They were the perfect match, and now their timing was finally working out. But he felt a niggle of trepidation at the amused expression on Zoe’s best friend’s face.

  “You were pretty good at scoring—lots of home runs and touchdowns, and you were the leading scorer in the conference in basketball for, what was it, two years?”

  “Three,” Aiden mumbled, suddenly feeling a little less optimistic.

  “Right.” She laughed. “I just think it might be entertaining to see the Golden Boy throw a few… pitches… that don’t land just perfectly.”

  Aiden didn’t like the way she said that. “Hey, I—”

  “Try the cake pops,” Jocelyn said. “They’re great.” Then she turned on her heel and headed back for the kitchen.

  Cake pops? Aiden focused on what Zoe was doing rather than just on her.

  They didn’t have cake pops here. The menu at Buttered Up hadn’t changed even once in all the time he’d been coming here. The way they iced and decorated the custom-made cakes varied, of course. If someone wanted Spider-Man, or the Eiffel Tower, or a fire truck, they got it. But the cake and icing always tasted the same. It was the best cake he’d ever tasted, and everyone he knew who had ever had a Buttered Up cake agreed.

  What was up with the cake pops?

  He’d been so tuned in to her—her light blond, almost white hair, that fell in waves to her shoulders, her bright blue eyes, her petite body with just enough curve to make his palms itchy to touch—he hadn’t even really noticed what she’d been doing other than bakery stuff.

  He quickly lost interest in the little balls of cake she was dipping into some kind of pink coating. Because studying Zoe would always be more interesting. She had a runner’s body, trim and muscular. In bare feet, the top of her head came to his nose, so she wasn’t exactly short. She was the perfect hugging height. He could easily kiss her on top of the head or on her forehead, but she’d have to be on tiptoe, or he’d have to lean in, to really kiss her.

  If they were standing up.

  Aiden shifted on his seat, suddenly thinking about the kiss she’d laid on him before he’d pushed her back. He hadn’t had to bend over for that one. He’d been propped up on his elbows in bed, having just been awakened, and she’d climbed up on the mattress with him, straddling his thighs. She’d definitely been the one leaning in for that kiss.

  Behind her bright yellow apron tied in a bow at her lower back, it was actually hard to make out much about her body. She was tiny through the breasts and hips and the apron covered both. But in pink lingerie, even in the dim light of his bedroom, he’d been able to see enough to haunt him for five months now. Every night.

  He hadn’t been with another woman since. Hell, he hadn’t even been with Zoe that night. But he’d tasted her for the first time. He’d felt her silky, hot, bare skin. He’d seen her breasts and the hard nipples behind the filmy pink material of the teddy she’d been wearing.

  And that had been more than enough.

  That had done it. She was all he wanted after that kiss. Zoe McCaffery was the one.

  “So you’re just going to sit there?” she asked.

  It took Aiden a second to realize she was talking to him. Her attention was still on the cake balls. But when he looked around, he realized the front of the bakery was empty except for the two of them.

  “I’m going to sit here until you’re done and able to talk.”

  “We can talk now. While I work.”

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to talk about this when you’re within arm’s reach of knives and forks,” he quipped.

  She looked up. “That’s a good point.”

  Okay, so she really was mad. Too. Besides being embarrassed.

  “Where exactly do you think this conversation is going to happen, then?” she asked. “I’ve got knives and forks at home too.”

  He gave her a smile. He understood he’d screwed up, and he was going to explain and make it up to her. But this was Zoe. She knew him too well, for too long, to stay mad at him. They had too many people in common. People who loved him and thought he was awesome. People who would be thrilled if they got together.

  People like her mom and dad.

  Them fucking around on Christmas Eve before he went back to Chicago? No. Not that. But long-term, forever? Definitely.

  And there was always Henry, Zoe’s little brother. Henry thought Aiden was a rock star. Aiden was one of the guys behind Henry’s favorite video game after all. There was very little in the world Henry cared about as much as he did about Warriors of Easton. But Henry loved Aiden not only because he got tokens to unlock new levels of the game before they were even available to the public, but because Aiden had always been a part of his life. He was another big brother to the kid. Henry was one of Aiden’s biggest fans. Henry would absolutely be a wingman if Aiden needed it.

  But he really hoped he wouldn’t need it.

  “You wouldn’t use a knife or fork on me,” Aiden said.

  Zoe dipped two more cake balls, rolling them in pink sugar, before answering, “Maybe I wouldn’t use one on a major artery or anything. But I am mad at you.”

  Okay, she wasn’t looking at him, but she wasn’t yelling or throwing things either.

  “I know.”

  “Actually, I’m… I wish I was mad. Or more mad. But I’m…” She let out a breath. “Christmas was humiliating. And I don’t like having that between us. I can’t avoid you, and it feels weird to… feel weird around you.”

  “You should not feel humiliated, Zoe. Christmas Eve was… amazing.” That actually seemed like a weak word for the moment that had changed his life.

  That sounded dramatic, he knew, but it was true. It might have taken him five months to figure out what exactly to do about it, but that night, kissing Zoe for the first time, had changed his course. Now he was here, on the verge of buying a business that would save his hometown, and able to dive in fully on a romance with Zoe.

  Things were pretty fucking great.

  Other than her deep hatred toward the business he was buying. But they’d get through that. Somehow. His plan for that at the moment? A lot of sex and sweet talk. Not necessarily in that order. Or maybe just at the same time.

  She laughed lightly, swirling another ball on a stick through pink coating. “Pretty amazingly stupid and horrible.”

  “Stop.”

  She looked
up at his firm comment. She shook her head. “You don’t have to make me feel better about it.”

  “Fine. Maybe I don’t. But I’m allowed to feel how I feel about it too.”

  She frowned slightly. “And how do you feel about it?”

  “I feel like it changed everything,” he told her honestly.

  He rose from the table and approached the counter where they rang customers out at the register. There was a wide slab of granite and a few feet of the scarred wooden floor between them, but he still saw her draw her shoulders back as if preparing for a confrontation.

  “I’m back,” he said simply. “Things are different now than they were at Christmastime.”

  Her gaze went over him. “You had to wear a fricking suit, didn’t you?” she muttered.

  He grinned and smoothed his hand over his tie. “I just got in the car and drove straight here.”

  “Liar. You knew the suit would make me weak. Or you would have changed.”

  He definitely liked her admitting the suit was doing its job.

  The clock over Zoe’s head chimed and she glanced up. It was five o’clock. Closing time for the front of the bakery. His meeting with the guys had been at 9 a.m., as usual. He’d been on the road for Appleby by eleven. He’d rolled into town around four thirty, knowing Zoe would still be at Buttered Up but that she’d be closing at five.

  “Hang on,” Zoe told him with a little sigh. She wiped her hands on the towel lying next to the tray of pink-coated cake balls. She crossed to the swinging door that led into the kitchen and poked her head through. “Hey, Jose? You can head out. I’m going to finish the cake pops and then close up.”

  “You sure?” he heard Jocelyn ask.

  “Yep.”

  “Is he still here?”

  Aiden smiled. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “He is,” Zoe said, sounding resigned.

  Well, resigned wasn’t knife-throwing-angry.

  “You sure you want to be alone with him?” Josie asked.

  Zoe’s shoulders lifted and fell as she took a deep breath. “Might as well get it over with.”

  “Okay. Well… call me later,” Josie told her.