Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) (23 page)

“I’m
fine
. I’ve been handling her all my life. I can handle her until Knot Fest is over. And
you
make her worse.”

“Why didn’t you go to college?”

She felt her eyes bug out. “What does that have to do with—”

“
Why
, Kimmie?”

“I had a well-paid job when I graduated high school, and—”

“And your mother said you didn’t need it,” Josh finished.

“She said I could go if I wanted to.”

“Did she?”

Kimmie swallowed. He knew why she didn’t go. She could see it in the pity in his gaze and hear it in the disappointment in his tone. And he thought she didn’t want to talk to her mother about buying the bakery for the same reason. “I was scared,” she whispered.

Terrified that she’d be the freak on campus. That without her mother around to make people be nice to her, she’d fade into nothingness. That her dreams would overtake her. That she’d run home a bigger failure than she’d left.

General Mom
had
told her she could go to college.

But she hadn’t argued when Kimmie declined.

“You don’t ever,
ever
have to be afraid, Kimmie.”

“You don’t have to protect me from her.”

“Try to stop me.”

She touched shaky fingers to his rough cheek. She didn’t know how to do this—how to touch a man, how to appreciate a man, how to
love
a man—but she wanted to touch him.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to stay. Here. With him.

His dark gaze dipped to her lips. She leaned over, reaching with her mouth, until her lips brushed his. The simple contact set her nerves to tingling across her skin and all the way to her most secret places.

He anchored her head and sucked her lower lip between his. Strong but gentle. Hot. Sweet. Electrifying.

He pulled out of the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I was scared too,” he said. “Going to college terrified me.”

“But you went.”

“You still could. Never too late.”

She sighed. For all that her single friends complained men talked about themselves too much, Josh had a way of turning conversations
away
from him.

“You terrify me,” he whispered.

“Me?” Her heart ka-thumped. “I’m a cupcake.”

He shifted away and squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Her belly quivered at the tremor in his voice, and her pulse shot up to sugar-high levels. This wasn’t Joshanova.

This was someone more. And she didn’t have much experience guarding secrets, but she’d grown up with plenty of experience with being on the fringe of the cool group. Josh seemed to fit in wherever he went, but did he really?

Or was it as much an act as their engagement?

She leaned into him again and brushed her lips against his rough cheek. He palmed her neck, his arms iron beams around her. “Sweet Dreams is in trouble.”

His voice was barely audible, but she heard each word as though it had come from inside her. Everything cupcakey inside her trembled even as those hidden steel parts of her went rigid in surprise. “Josh—”

“Don’t—even Aiden doesn’t know. I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone. I’m not supposed to know, but I need—Kimmie, I swear to you, this isn’t about your cupcakes. You’re too—” He cut himself off with a huffed out breath. “A month ago, I thought your cupcakes were your best feature. I was wrong.
You’re
your best feature. All of you. And you deserve—”

“Stop.” She put a finger to his lips, because
you deserve
was never followed by anything good. Not in books, not in movies, not in this car.

Josh dropped his head to her shoulder. “They saved me, Kimmie. If Sweet Dreams went under—it would kill them. I have to save them.”

It would kill them
.

He’d lost two mothers already, and Birdie. Kimmie had seen a business or two go broke in Bliss, and she’d seen what it had done to the owners.

They’d never been the same. And picturing Esme and Clayton Kincaid, penniless and broken, made her heart heavy. “Have you talked to them?” she asked.

His snort was warm against her shirt. “Fake it till you make it. It’s our family motto.”

“Josh—”

“Come upstairs,” he whispered.

Everything south of her belly warmed and squeezed.

Upstairs. With Josh. Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

But safe.

With a man who was stealing her heart, one nibble at a time. With a man who would ease that ache growing between her thighs.

With a man who wanted her for more than her cupcakes, but still couldn’t put the frosting on her life.

He had responsibilities to his family. And she deserved—something she didn’t want to hear him say. Because it was most likely
not him
.

Kimmie pulled away and fumbled for her bag.

She wanted to go upstairs. She wanted to go upstairs and bake him eighteen new cupcake recipes and save his family’s business and convince him that
he
deserved
her
.

But if she went upstairs, and she baked him cupcakes, and she gave him her body, what would be left?

Would he still want her?

Or would he pretend he hadn’t bared his soul in this car?

“Kimmie?”

“Lindsey’s wedding is Tuesday afternoon. I’m decorating her cake, and I need to make sure it’s ready for me tomorrow, and—”
And you should come with me.

Could he be the man she wanted him to be? Could he be the Josh from last night, the Josh from this morning, the Josh from
right now
, if they were in Bliss?

Could
he be her hero?

“Come with me,” she said.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and a pull of longing pulsed from her heart to her core.

“What time?” he asked.

“F-four.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Don’t come if you’re bringing Joshanova. I want—I want you.
This
you.”

His lips quirked in a killer smile that he tilted against her lips. “Asking a lot, Kimmie.”

She pushed him away. “I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for you.”

“For me,” he repeated, but he was squinting at her as though she were an orange juice cupcake with toothpaste frosting.

It went against every desire she had to not go upstairs with him, to not hold him and love him and tell him she’d save his family, but she had to leave. Self-preservation demanded it. “You’re worthy of friends, Josh. You’re worthy of friends and love and happiness. But you have to
be
a friend to
make
friends. Come as you. Trust me.”

A flash of raw fear disappeared into a Joshanova smile. “Of the two of us, you
are
the more trustworthy.”

She sighed and reached for the door again.

This was a terrible idea.

“Kimmie.”

“What?”

He snagged her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll be there.”

And even though he didn’t specify
which
Josh, Kimmie’s pulse zinged and hope blossomed in her cupcake heart.

Maybe, just maybe, Josh
could
be her hero.

J
osh knocked
on Kimmie’s apartment door at eight Monday night, daisies in one hand and an overnight bag on his shoulder.

He could’ve driven down for the wedding tomorrow afternoon, but he wanted to be here
now
. He wanted to watch her deliver the wedding cake. He wanted to help her get dressed. He wanted to help her get
un
dressed.

He had another week or so of having a fake fiancée. One who believed in
him
. And he’d had a raging hard-on since she left him on the street yesterday afternoon.

She swung the door open, and her sleepy eyes went wide. “What time is it? What day is it? Where are my pants?”

Josh pushed the daisy bouquet away to look down at her legs. Firm, smooth skin stuck out from her pink cupcake pajama bottoms. His groin twitched.

“Oh,
pumplegunker
. Did I miss the wedding? My mom’s gonna roast my carrots. And then she’s gonna smash them until—wait. I didn’t sleep
that
long, did I?”

Josh let himself into the apartment, wary eyes scanning the room for crazy cats. “It’s Monday night. Did I wake you?”

She stuck her elbows in the air and stretched, and her bright green Suckers shirt rode up to show off her belly button.

She had an outie. And Josh hadn’t gotten to spend nearly enough time getting acquainted with it.

“You’re early.” She blinked at him, then at the flowers. Her lips parted. “Are those for me?”

“Tried to get coconuts, but my florist has no vision.” And he had no willpower to stay away.

He missed Kimmie. He
wanted
Kimmie. Because with Kimmie, he didn’t have to pretend. And after a long day of pretending at the office, he wanted to be
here
.

With her.

Her cheeks split in that pretty Kimmie smile that lit her eyes, and Josh couldn’t help smiling back. She made him believe in a world full of puppy dogs and rainbows and cupcakes, where homelessness and hunger didn’t exist, where his family’s business wasn’t in trouble, where he didn’t have to fight so damn hard to make his life as perfect on the inside as it appeared on the outside.

He dropped his bag on the floor, then snagged her at the waist, and pulled those lips in for a kiss.

Smile kisses tasted best, he’d discovered.

“You’re crazy,” Kimmie said against his mouth.

“I forgot to tell you yesterday. I have crazy dreams too. All the time. Not just after having mind-blowing sex with curly-haired cupcake goddesses.”

He felt her cheeks flush against his skin. “You’ve been having sex with other cupcake goddesses?” she whispered.

“Hush. Kiss me.”

She sighed a happy little sigh that tasted like sunshine and peppermint, and Josh pulled her closer and kissed her as though he had all the time in the world.

He’d screwed up her first time. Hell if he’d screw up her second time too.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, her hips pressed into his pulsing erection, and she parted her lips for him. He took his time licking her, tasting her, loving her. He danced her through the apartment to her bedroom, one step, one kiss, one caress at a time, dodging the nutty cat, who was chasing pixies again, and he made it his mission to satisfy every need Kimmie couldn’t possibly know she had.

He might not have been the man she needed, but he’d stay with her for as long as he was the man she wanted.

T
uesday
, Kimmie was as focused as a pineapple cream cheese cupcake. Not that she knew for sure that pineapple cream cheese cupcakes were unfocused, but they did strike her as a conflicted mess of cream and crumbs.

Which was Kimmie to a T.

After loving the stuffing out of her Monday night, Josh treated her to a glorious bubble bath Tuesday morning that ended with Kimmie’s first trip to the magical land of the double orgasm.

That
was better than any coconut cream pie.

But then he’d insisted on going with her to the bakery.

Knot Fest didn’t kick off until Saturday—never mind their supposed
wedding
the following Thursday—but things were almost as hectic as if the week were already here. Josh wandered about the kitchen, meeting the rest of the staff, charming them with his Joshanova charm, and touching Kimmie anytime he got within arms’ reach of her.

General Mom was in and out all day, managing last-minute Knot Fest preparations and the increased media attention because of Billy Brenton’s wedding while Rosita oversaw the kitchen in her absence. General Mom wouldn’t do anything so plebian as to argue or bicker with Josh in front of the girls, but the silent battle between them hung a tension in the room that was thicker than the scent of cake.

So did the disapproving,
you have disobeyed me for the last time, and I will have your head for dessert
glare General Mom graced Kimmie with as soon as she came in. General Mom disliked being defied, and Kimmie hadn’t followed orders to break up with Josh.

And Josh wasn’t helping. Every time General Mom glared, he smirked.

The two of them were destroying Kimmie’s happy place.

Lindsey’s cake needed to be perfect. Kimmie tried to ignore the tension while she attached gum paste leaves to the fondant on the sides of the five layers of the round wedding cake.

But her hand wobbled every time she caught Josh watching her, and it wobbled more every time General Mom walked in the door. Kimmie cracked three leaves and smudged the fondant on the base layer.

Lindsey’s cake was
not
the masterpiece Kimmie needed it to be. And she didn’t have time to fix it—they were running short on cupcakes, and Kimmie had to finish another wedding cake before she could go to Lindsey’s wedding.

She gritted her way through it, reminding herself there was no way she could have cakemageddon 2.0 on her hands—she’d kill Josh herself before she’d let him destroy a second wedding cake for her friends—and she did the best she could manage. When Josh’s phone rang shortly after two, she shooed him out and told him she’d meet him at her apartment soon to get dressed for the wedding.

He apparently believed her, because he went.

But General Mom marched into the bakery four minutes later. “Kimberly, a word.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to the office.

Kimmie’s shoulders hunched. “Can it wait?”

The Imperious Eyebrow of Cake Readiness Condition Four made an appearance.

Kimmie wanted to smack it off her mother’s face. But she stifled a growl and marched into the office. “What?”

“You will watch your tone with me, young lady. Why is Mr. Kincaid here?”

“He’s renting a spaceship to transport us both to a honeymoon on Mars and he can’t do it from Chicago.”

“Kimberly Anne Elias, I thought I made it clear you were to end your shenanigans with him.”

General Mom had both fists clenched on her hips, and her frown could’ve fried an egg from across the room. She wouldn’t throw dishes or raise her voice or cause any real damage with her laser-beam eyeballs, but Kimmie felt a familiar pull drawing her shoulders into her body.

Josh was right. Her mother was a bully. She’d gotten better since she started dating Arthur, but when it came to business, she was an egomaniacal, deranged bully.

Who didn’t believe Kimmie could ever be anything more than a cupcake.

Kimmie’s heart ping-ponged against her ribs. She tasted fear, but she tasted something new too—
courage
.

What was the worst her mother could honestly do to her?

“Kimberly?” General Mom prompted.

“I have him exactly where I want him, and the bakery will be ours by Saturday.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Positive.” Because tomorrow, Kimmie would be giving General Mom Josh’s proposal. She’d ask Arthur for support—he deserved to enjoy Lindsey’s day first—and then the bakery would be theirs. Kimmie and Josh’s.

“You aren’t honestly intending to marry the man.”

It should’ve been a question.

Except it shouldn’t have been an issue. It
wouldn’t
have been an issue if her mother were anyone else, if Josh were anyone else, or if Kimmie were anyone else. “What’s the worst that happens if I do? Divorce?” Kimmie shoved away from the desk and stepped out of the office. “I have a cake to finish.”

“Kimberly—”

Kimmie let the door shut on her mother.

Rosita’s jaw hung. Paige’s eyes were wide. Everyone else avoided her gaze and scurried about, doing their work lest the Queen General of Bliss turn her wrath on them.

“You all do really good work,” Kimmie said to the room at large. “I love you guys.” Something caught in her throat and threatened to choke her. Maybe her courage fleeing, or maybe her sentimental side. General Mom was the only family Kimmie had. And Kimmie didn’t want her anymore.

Which left Kimmie with a lot of friends—several of whom had gotten married recently—and a fake fiancé who would fade into the background of her life soon enough, returning to being a business partner who checked in from time to time.

She blinked back the sting in her eyes.

Everybody liked her, but who was left to love her?

She returned to her station, to someone else’s wedding cake, and concentrated on the fondant, on the sugar, on the food coloring, on her sculpting tools. She knew cake. She knew frosting.

And she knew her life had to change.

J
osh was
in his suit at Kimmie’s apartment, ready for the wedding, but Kimmie wasn’t there, she wasn’t at Heaven’s Bakery, and she wasn’t answering her phone. He strode to the front door, his phone at his ear, waiting for her to pick up on her end.

The door suddenly flung open, and Kimmie barreled past him. She executed a perfect leap over Boo, who somersaulted out of the kitchen in an epic battle with a cupcake liner.

He caught her arm. “Hey, you okay?”

“Twenty minutes.” She shook him off and dashed to her room, and when she shut the door, there was a definitive
click
behind her.

Boo rolled to a stop in front of Josh and stared at him, unblinking, her half-ear twitching.

The bedroom door swung open again. Kimmie darted out in a shiny, blue-green dress that hugged her breasts and tied around her neck. It stopped beneath her knees. Her toes were bare, and she was dancing into a pair of strappy, sparkly heels.

Her hair was an untamed mass of dark blond curls, and her lips were a shade darker, but otherwise, she was all Kimmie.

Dolled-up and beautiful.

His cock twitched.

But something bigger swelled in his chest.

“We have eighteen minutes, and we have to get through security,” she said. “
Move
.”

Josh reached for her again. “Wait.”

“We have to go
now
or we’ll miss the wedding.” The dress or the lipstick or
something
made her eyes bigger, bluer, and brighter.

He pulled a small box from his pocket. His hands wobbled, and his fingers were slick against the fuzzy surface. “Here. For your outfit.” He snapped it open and pulled out the diamond ring.

Her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed uneven and stark against her pale skin. Her chin trembled, and when she lifted her gaze to his face, he took a sock to the gut at the questions in her deep sea blues.

He swallowed. “Can’t have a fake fiancée going to a wedding without it.”

She hesitated before she snatched the ring, jammed it on her finger, and stalked out.

A brick settled in his stomach.

He’d never considered giving a woman a ring before, and they both knew the engagement wasn’t real, even if the ring was. It shouldn’t mean anything that she hadn’t waited for him to put it on her finger, that she hadn’t squealed about the rock’s beauty, or that she was huffing around like—well, like an angry lover.

But she’d been right to call him out. An engaged woman going to her friend’s wedding needed a ring of her own. Not wearing it while she was working was one thing. Missing a ring at such a public event?

Not on Josh’s watch.

And until Marilyn was out of the picture at the bakery, Josh would be here to make sure Kimmie was safe from her mother.

Even if it hurt her feelings, or if he was an ass for giving her a ring that couldn’t mean what it should.

He should’ve told her where the ring came from. What it meant to him. That he wanted her to keep it no matter what.

But he didn’t know how without getting more attached than he already was.

Kimmie wasn’t as bright as usual, but she still chattered about the wedding while she whipped her car around the side roads to a parking lot down the way from the small grassy area around the gargantuan cake monument, where a large crowd was already gathered.

“I swear on a coconut cream puff, if you do anything to ruin this cake, I will pry your toenails off and serve them to you on a liver-flavored cupcake,” Kimmie said as they approached two massive men guarding the roped-off area around the cake.

“You sure you want us to let him in, Miss Kimmie?” the larger of the two said.

“Oh, yes. He’s my
fiancé
.”

Josh was treated to a double-dose of bouncer glare. Neither of them cracked their knuckles or grunted, but their three-hundred-pound, six-foot-six frames spoke for them. “Appreciate your assistance in watching out for Kimmie, gentlemen,” Josh said.

“I don’t like him,” the smaller one said.

Kimmie flashed a pained smile. “He has that effect on people.”

The hairs on Josh’s neck hadn’t been happy most of the afternoon, but they were humming an ominous tune now.

There was something wrong with Kimmie.

And he had a strong suspicion it was him.

The bouncers stepped aside to let Kimmie pass, but they squeezed Josh as he followed her.

“Lady bakes good cupcakes,” the bigger one said.

“Make sure you deserve her,” the other one added.

“You’re sweet, gentlemen, but if I can’t handle him, my mother can,” Kimmie said.

Both men shuddered and backed away.

Kimmie didn’t look at Josh. Instead, she charged up the walk, threading through the thick crowd of rich and famous musicians in expensive designer suits and dresses who were surrounded by more bodyguards. Josh should’ve fit right in. This was his crowd. The kind of crowd he hung with at every fundraiser and social event.