Page 19 of Baked
Who the hell knew? She certainly didn’t.
And she hadn’t even had a chance to ask him. For the past two nights, his shift had run over, so he’d had Luke pick her up from the bakery. By the time he’d gotten back to her apartment, she’d been in bed. And in the mornings, five a.m. wasn’t exactly the best time to have a heart-to-heart.
So now here she was. Climbing the walls. Analyzing every single word that he’d said. Trying her hardest not to let neurosis set in. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d also apparently become wobblier than a bobblehead, jumping out of her skin every time the Fairy Baked store bell rang out.
Talking of which, her head whipped around to find Wade Evans swaggering through her glass door, looking every bit the Wyoming cowboy that he was. He lifted his cream hat from his head as he strode further inside, revealing a freshly cut crop of dirty blonde hair.
“Afternoon, darlin’.”
“Hey, sugar, what brings you by?” It wasn’t often she was graced with Wade’s presence. Libby’s soon-to-be brother-in-law was normally too knee-deep in running the Evans ranch to get into town.
“Matt’s birthday.” He flashed her a lopsided smile. “Figured we’d treat him to a cake this year, seeing as he’s finally reached the big three zero. And as you’re the best baker in town ...”
Flattery would get him anywhere. She smiled back. “The only baker, you mean.”
“That too.” He chuckled, making his dimples pop. “You think you can whip something up for me?”
“Of course”—she reached for a paper and pen—“you got anything particular in mind? Flavor, design, words you want written on it? Oh, and when do you need it by?”
Wade was shifting in his shit kickers, running a tanned hand over his head. “Uh, what do you recommend?”
Rachel pulled out her phone and spent the next ten minutes flicking through pictures of cakes she’d made and going through all the different flavor combinations. By the end of it, Wade looked pretty darn overwhelmed, but he’d managed to come to a decision. Peanut butter chocolate cake topped with a sugar-carved cowboy hat.
“I appreciate your help, darlin’.” The hat was back on. “And I’ll see you at the party, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” It was hard to keep the smile off her face; she hadn’t made a custom cake in ages, and this was going to be fun.
***
An hour later, shewas just getting used to the shop bell when her bakery door burst open. A whoosh of air hit her right in the face as an angry-looking Hunter pushed himself inside, making her doorframe look tiny as his wide shoulders blocked out the sun.
“What was Wade Evans doing here?” he practically shouted.
“What?”
“Wade Evans, what was he doing here?”
All of a sudden, she remembered the cameras. The creeper cameras. “Have you been watching me?”
“Honeybun,” he growled, rounding the counter and not stopping until the tips of his shoes met hers, “don’t change the subject.”
Lifting her head, she stretched it all the way back until she was looking into those cocoa-colored pools. “What exactly do you think happened, Hunter? He declared his undying love and I realized that yep, actually, maybe I love him too?”
Did he seriously think he had any competition? Sure, Wade was a good-looking guy, but he was definitely not her type. Cowboys were so not her thing; they were nothing but trouble. Not to mention, the fact she hadn’t even acknowledged any other man since she’d laid eyes on Hunter.
He was making that noise again, something between a growl and a low rumble. It was the reason her hand lifted and came to rest over his heart. “Are you seriously jealous of Wade Evans?”
“What were you talking about? You had your phone out.”
That was a yes then.
She found herself sighing. “He wanted a cake, Hunter. For Matt’s birthday. I was showing him pictures of other custom cakes I’ve made.”
Rachel saw the exact moment regret filled his smile lines, his hard outer shell cracking before her very eyes. It was hard to be mad at him when he was looking so damn sorry.
“Look, Hunter, I’m gonna give you a free pass this time for the whole jealous rage, bursting through my door like a bat-out-of-hell thing. But, next time, I won’t be so forgiving. If you meant what you said the other day about us doing this ... then you’re gonna need to trust me. Yeah?”
One nod was all he gave her, his expression still filled with sadness. It was enough to make her reach up on her tiptoes to give him a closed-mouth kiss.