“No problem. Take your time. We’re ahead of schedule, boss lady.”
I shake my head and chuckle as I climb the stairs to my apartment, shedding clothing on the way.
Tess is young, only in her early twenties and still in college, but she’s a hard worker. She loves the shop, and I enjoy having her around. There’s never a dull moment when she’s working.
It doesn’t take me long to shower and dress in my uniform of black slacks and red T-shirt with a white apron, tie the red ribbon in my hair like a headband and brush on a bit of makeup.
When I return to the kitchen, we still have forty-five minutes until we open, so we spend that time frosting the daily special—white chocolate mocha—and preparing batter for the next morning.
At nine a.m., Tess unlocks the door and immediately a small crowd of guests pours in to order a treat and coffee.
When the crowd finally dies down at about twelve thirty, I have a moment to slip in the back and quickly eat a banana and string cheese before consolidating the cupcakes in the glass case and tidying up the seating area.
The bell over the door rings behind me as I’m tucking chairs under a table.
“It smells amazing in here.”
I’d know that voice anywhere.
It was in my head all night long.
I turn to find Matt and a slightly shorter, dark-haired man I’ve never seen before standing just inside the door. Matt has his hands in the pockets of his jeans and is smiling at me. The man with him has already crossed to the case, practically drooling over the cakes inside.
“Hi,” I murmur, smoothing my hands down my apron.
“How’s business today?” Matt asks as I walk behind the case, putting a good three feet between us.
“It’s been busy. It just started to slow down.”
“Montgomery has lost his manners,” Matt’s friend informs me with a smile. “I’m his partner, Asher.”
“Hi, I’m Nic Dalton.”
“I’ve driven by this place a hundred times and have always meant to come in.” Asher grins as he peruses the case. “What do you recommend?”
“The chocolate,” I reply, my gaze still stuck on Matt.
He’s remained quiet, hanging back, watching my every move.
It’s unnerving and yet comforting in a way I can’t explain.
He’s in a dark blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled, and it suddenly occurs to me that he’s wearing a holster at his waist with a handgun and a badge clipped to it.
Glancing at Asher, I see he’s wearing the same.
I raise an eyebrow at Matt. “I don’t sell doughnuts here.”
His lips twitch. I had no idea he’s a cop!
“Maybe we need a change of pace,” Matt replies. “Besides, I told you I’d be in today.”
I nod and smile at Asher. “You sick of doughnuts, too?”
“I never get sick of doughnuts. But I’ll take that chocolate cupcake right there.”
I place his treat on a plate and hand it to him. He peels the paper off and takes a bite, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Marry me,” he announces and stuffs the rest in his mouth. “Marry me right now. We’ll go to Vegas.”
I laugh and shake my head. “What can I get you, Matt?”
“Dinner tomorrow night,” he replies smoothly.
“Dude, you’re good,” Asher compliments him. “But she’s marrying me.”
“Who’s marrying who?” Tess asks as she returns from the kitchen then stops in her tracks. Her eyes widen as she takes in the two very attractive—okay, gorgeous—men chatting with me.
“Nic is going to marry me,” Asher announces with a wink.
“Or, I can just keep baking cupcakes and you’re welcome to stop in from time to time. That way, there are no messy contracts or things like commitment,” I suggest with a laugh.
“Yes, that’ll work,” Asher agrees.
“Tess, could you please box up a couple of the chocolate for Asher to go?” I ask her and then turn to Matt. “What would you like?”
“I told you. Dinner tomorrow night.”
My heart skips a beat then shifts into overdrive.
“I meant…”
“I know what you meant. I’ll take a dozen of the special and dinner tomorrow night.”
“Yes, she’ll go,” Tess answers for me.
“You, I can fire, you know.”
She waves me off like I just announced that she has something in her teeth.
Matt laughs as he accepts the cupcakes from me. “Can I talk to you somewhere more private?”
The shop is still empty, so I nod and lead him back into the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to buy a whole dozen just to ask me to dinner,” I inform him softly.
“I bought them for the guys at the precinct.” He shrugs and grins at me. Is this really the same man who had me tied up in knots—literally and figuratively—not long ago?
“So, you’re a cop.”
“I am.” He nods.
“So, if I need to file a stalking complaint, you’re the person to call?”
Matt takes a step to me and drags his index finger down my cheek to my jawline. “There’s a number you can call for that, but I hope I’m not the one you’re thinking of turning in.”
I smirk and watch him, waiting for him to dictate to me what we’ll do next or where we’ll go to dinner, but he just waits for me, watching me just as I am him.