It wasn’t deep or long, but it did the trick.
It also caused her to relax into him, her lips softening. For just a couple of seconds.
He pulled back before she could push him away, because he sensed she was about to. That wouldn’t help with his narrative here at all.
She pressed her lips together briefly then shook her head. “My mom’s going to hear about that.”
“I don’t care.”
“What if I do?”
“Shove me. Slap me. Throw a cake in my face. Yell. Tell me to leave you the hell alone in front of all these people.”
He could tell she was thinking about it for a moment, probably playing each of those out in her head and maybe enjoying them a bit, but she didn’t do any of them. The surge of satisfaction and hell yeah was strong as he realized this was a big win.
“My mom would hear about that too,” she finally said.
“Yeah.”
“She’d be mad if I slapped you. Or wasted cake. Or swore in front of customers.”
“Uh-huh.” Those were all true. And not at all why she wasn’t doing them.
“I need more plastic containers for a half-dozen muffins and cupcakes,” she said. “They’re not up here, so we’ll have to get them from the back.”
“You go,” he said. He glanced behind them. The line was still there. Most of them were staring with their mouths hanging open. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh, I don’t—”
“I can get cupcakes and muffins and scones out of the case.”
“Bet you don’t know how to run a cash register,” Zoe said.
“I… don’t.” Aiden frowned. He’d never run a register.
“Bet you also can’t smile and flirt them into buying double what they came in for,” Zoe said, giving him one of the smiles that probably got guys buying by the dozen.
Considering 90 percent of the line was male, that was a pretty good bet.
“Fine, where are these containers?”
She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Storeroom, second shelf, right-hand side.”
He went after them, returning with a huge stack only two minutes later. It was still enough time for Zoe to dive right into waiting on people again. With a big, bright I’m-so-happy-you’re-here, you’re-so-funny-and-charming-and-handsome smile.
“He’s back to stay, then?” Garrett Green was asking her.
Aiden set the containers next to her.
“I guess,” Zoe said, looking up at him.
“I am,” Aiden confirmed. “To stay.”
“I see,” Garrett said. He didn’t look happy.
Aiden didn’t really fucking care if Garrett was happy. About this or anything else.
“What can I get you?” he asked the next guy in line. The man looked familiar, but Aiden wasn’t sure who he was. It wasn’t like Aiden knew every person in Appleby. Even in a small town, if someone had been behind him in school four or five—or more—years, he wouldn’t have been on any sports teams or in class with them, and he wouldn’t have really known them. It was also possible, of course, people would have moved to Appleby since Aiden left.
“Need a blueberry and an apple cinnamon,” the guy said, making direct eye contact but without a smile. He looked almost annoyed.
“That it?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah.”
Aiden started to turn toward the case to grab the guy’s order.
“Oh, Caleb, that will only get you through your first cup of coffee,” Jocelyn said, coming up next to Aiden. “Especially because Brian will take the blueberry if you don’t eat it first.”
Caleb’s expression softened and he smiled at Josie. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. I should eat that one first for sure.”
“Or get two and then tell Brian he owes you one when he comes in on Thursday,” Josie said with a wink.
A wink. Aiden rolled his eyes. He would put very good money down on the fact these men intended to buy more when they walked through the door but wanted Josie and Zoe to flirt with them before they increased their orders.
Dicks.
Caleb chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Two blueberry, an apple cinnamon, and you better give me a lemon poppyseed or Dan will be mad.”
Aiden shook his head. Transparent dicks.
Josie nodded, punching that into the register. “That’s more like it.” She looked up at Aiden. “You know which ones are which?”
“Guessing the blueberry have blueberries in them and the lemon poppyseed have poppy seeds?” His tone was dry as he moved toward the case.
Josie grinned and handed him a pair of thin plastic gloves to wear. “Wow, quick learner.”
He pulled the gloves on and grabbed all the muffins and a bag, wrapping them in the paper on top of the case before stuffing them in the sunshine-yellow bag that said Buttered Up on the side and handing it over to Caleb, who had moved down after paying Josie.
“Thanks,” Caleb muttered.
“My pleasure,” Aiden muttered back.
Had Caleb wanted to take Zoe out? Had he been flirting every morning, working up to asking her out? Had he taken her out? Had Caleb been the guy to make Zoe “good” with the virginity thing as she’d put it last night?
“Hey,” Aiden said to Caleb.
The other man turned back.
Aiden glanced over to where Josie and Zoe were waiting on new customers.
“You have a problem with me?” Aiden asked.
Caleb looked surprised. “Should I?”
“I’m here. Back in Appleby. And I’m with Zoe now.”
Caleb looked over at Zoe. “Okay.”
“You sure?” Aiden said. “You’re okay with that? No issues?”
“Issues like what?” Caleb asked.
“Issues like maybe you thought something was going to happen with her, and now I’m here fucking that up for you.”
Caleb shook his head. “You’re not fucking anything up for me.”
That wasn’t exactly a denial of him wanting something to happen. It also wasn’t a confirmation that he thought Aiden was a threat. Just that he wasn’t worried about Aiden being here. He could take that a few ways. “Good to hear.”
“Yeah, I’ve got what I want from Zoe.”
Caleb waited a beat—just long enough for a wave of rage to wash through Aiden and his blood pressure to spike—then he lifted his bag of muffins. But then he smirked. So obviously Aiden still wanted to punch him in the mouth.
“Fucker,” Aiden breathed.
“Um, calling our customers fuckers is really not the image we’d like to project here. Nor is the general body language that makes it seem like you want to fight them,” Josie said. Her voice was low as she reached past him for two scones, a muffin, and a cinnamon roll.
“Did they date?” Aiden asked, still glaring at Caleb’s back as the man exited the shop.
“Caleb and Zoe?” Josie said. She frowned. “No.”
“Is he the one she finally slept with or something?”
Josie frowned harder. “No.”
Well, that was something. “But he wants to.”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug.
“That’s not okay.”
“It doesn’t matter, Aiden. If she doesn’t want to, then it doesn’t matter if he wants to.”
Yeah, okay, that was true. “Who was it?”
“Who was it what?”
“Who did she sleep with?”
Jocelyn shook her head. “You need to have that conversation with Zoe. And you know it.”
“She won’t tell me.”
“Then maybe you don’t get to know.”
“I should get to know.”
“Just because you want to?” Josie put a hand on her hip.
“Yeah. Because I care. Because she matters to me.”
Aiden looked over at Zoe. She was now talking to Lucy Scranton. Lucy was old enough to be her mother.
Or her mother-in-law. Her son, Luke, was about Zoe’s age. Good-looking guy. He was the basketball coach and taught history. That was pretty great. Noble and stuff. The kind of guy that could marry the beautiful small-town, family-oriented, never-leaving-home baker.
Aiden shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face.
He was losing it. A little. Luke wasn’t going to marry Zoe. Neither was Caleb. Or anyone else in here. Or not in here. Except him, of course. He needed to cool it.
But again, when he looked at Zoe, the word mine went through his mind.
“Aiden,” Josie said. “I think you need to do two things.”
“Okay.” Aiden squared up to her, ready for the advice.
“One, realize that Zoe is sugar and spice. Being in a relationship with her—of any kind—is dealing with her humor and intelligence and drive and willing to work her ass off for what she wants, but also her sass and her stubbornness and a lot of I’ll-just-do-it-myself and I’m-always-right.”
“A relationship like a friendship and working together too?” he asked with a slight smile.
“You’ve got it.” Josie sighed but also smiled. “She’s a lot. Of everything. You could try to give up the spice, but without her, life becomes a lot less flavorful.”
That was all very accurate in his experience as well. Josie had known Zoe since kindergarten and now worked with her every day in this bakery. Just the two of them. It was probably safe to say Josie knew Zoe almost better than anyone did.
“And what’s the second thing I need to do?”
“Stop threatening and insulting our customers.”
Right. “You feel sorry for Caleb?”
“Nope. But you being annoying to the customers will be annoying to Zoe, and that will prolong the time it’s going to take you to get her naked. And that girl needs a release. More than beating eggs and whipping cream and kneading dough can give her.”
“Are those euphemisms?”
“I almost wish they were,” Josie said, then she took him by the arm and turned him toward the register.
“Are you saying…”
“Go wait on someone,” Josie said. “And if they don’t walk out with at least a dozen of something… you’re fired.”
Aiden did. But he couldn’t get it out of his head that if kneading dough was not a euphemism for sex—and Zoe needed a release—that meant Zoe definitely going to bed alone every night.
He was so distracting.
She’d known him all her life. She’d been ignoring him for a large portion of it. She’d been blocking out the sound of Aiden and Cam chasing each other with Nerf guns, playing video games, watching football on TV, and generally roughhousing and being boys in her house for years.
But at the moment, he was sitting at a table near the window of the bakery, quietly working on his computer while she frosted sugar cookies, and she could barely focus on what she was doing.
What the hell was that?
It was the kiss. Out of the blue. In front of everyone.
Okay, it was the kiss and having his fingers in her panties first thing that morning.
And how he’d looked in only his boxers, walking into that kitchen as if he was completely comfortable with them being half naked together.
At least it should have been all that. That was all part of it, for sure. But it was also the way he’d come behind the counter and started helping out that morning.
Staking his claim.
It had been clear as day that’s what he’d been doing.
To everyone.
She knew because she’d already ignored two calls and three texts from her mother.
What happened this morning with Aiden?! Lucy said he KISSED you in front of everyone!
Zoe Marie! What is going on! Are you dating Aiden?!
WE WILL TALK.
Oh, she was sure they would. She just knew she needed to have some answers before they did.
Not answers from Aiden. He’d actually been very clear about what he was thinking and wanting.
She needed answers for her. If they were just going to sleep together, that would be one thing. Something they could keep between just the two of them. Something that wouldn’t involve her entire family, all their friends, and the whole town.
More than that would… involve everyone.
Was that what she wanted? That wasn’t a fair question. Until yesterday, when he’d waltzed back into town and announced he was back, to stay, and wanted to be with her—with her with her—she hadn’t known that was an option. So she’d never thought about it.
The bakery was mostly empty during the day. Between the breakfast rush and people picking orders up later in the day, it was quiet with very few exceptions. There was a book club that met once a month and a group of young moms that got together every Tuesday and Thursday while their toddlers were at playtime at the preschool. There were occasionally people in and out, but for the most part during the day it was Zoe and Josie and George and Phil.
George was a retired banker who’d lost his wife about a year ago. He came every day at 10 a.m. in the suits he’d worn to work for forty-five years. He sat at the table closest to the coffeepots with his two newspapers. He barely said a word other than giving his muffin order. His snowy-white hair was a sharp contrast to his ebony skin and his kind, if slightly sad, brown eyes.
Phil was a retired over-the-road trucker. He, too, had lost his wife a little over a year ago. He came in wearing jeans and a t-shirt, also with two newspapers. He had leathery tan skin from years outside loading and unloading his trucks, and his long gray hair was always gathered in a ponytail.
The two men looked very different and had very different backgrounds. But they both liked coffee and muffins and reading the paper in the morning. They would sit at neighboring tables, not speaking, but after they each finished their first newspaper, they would pass it to the other.
Their little ritual always made Zoe smile. They clearly didn’t want to chat in the mornings, but they also didn’t want to have coffee and read the paper completely alone.
They hung out until about eleven thirty, then they both cleaned up their tables, tucked their newspapers under their arms, and headed out.
Zoe liked both men a lot, but she’d been antsy waiting for them to leave today so she could talk to Aiden.
The door had just bumped shut behind George. “You know—” she started.
Just as Aiden’s phone rang.
He looked up at her. The phone rang again. “You okay?” he asked.
He was giving her the choice of talking instead of taking the call? That was nice. She waved her hand. “Go ahead.”
He picked his phone up. “Hey.” He was still looking at her. “Nice of you guys to finally get to work. I see what happens when I leave the office.”
Zoe went back to applying blue frosting to the cookie flowers that Janice Murphy was coming to pick up later that afternoon, but she couldn’t help but hear what Aiden was saying. Clearly, he was talking to his partners. Which probably included her brother.
“I’m going to tell her you’re going to call. She can go over all that with you,” Aiden said.
Zoe kept working, but with it being only the two of them in the front of the bakery, it was impossible for her to not hear him. There was soft music playing overhead, but that hardly obscured his voice. She could turn it up, she supposed, but at the same time, Aiden wasn’t acting like he minded that she could hear him.
“Because I need someone else to take the lead on that,” he said. “I can’t do it, and I think you’d be the best for that anyway, Dax.”
He was definitely talking to his partners.
“Fine, but Cam needs to stay out of it,” Aiden said. “He knows why.”
Zoe glanced over at her brother’s name. Aiden was now standing and looking out the window, away from her.
She took a second to check him out. His jacket was still hanging on the back of his chair and his sleeves were still rolled up on his forearms, but he’d put his tie back on after helping behind the counter. Why? He was in here alone and obviously his work activities were all being conducted via computer and phone today.
Probably because he knew that tie got to her.
Then again, watching him moving behind the bakery counter, bagging muffins and scones, catching whiffs of his cologne whenever he passed her, had also gotten to her. She wasn’t used to having that extra pair of hands. Or such a big body in that space. It had seemed he was always in her way. He’d been helpful though. Kind of. After Josie had had a little talk with him about the glowering he’d been doing.
Zoe wasn’t sure what Josie had said exactly and Zoe hadn’t asked. Aiden hadn’t been friendly to the rest of their morning customers, and he was nowhere near the salesperson Josie and Zoe were when it came to talking customers into adding to their orders, but he hadn’t messed anything up and hadn’t scowled anyone out of the store. He had also seemed intent on keeping the line moving and none of the guys lingering too long at the counter with Zoe and Josie. They’d had the morning crowd taken care of thirty minutes earlier than usual.
Of course, they couldn’t let him keep helping if that was going to be the case. When the guys lingered, they bought more. The bakery did better business when the customers had a chance to talk with Zoe and Josie, laugh a little, flirt a little, have a sample of the day’s special, be reminded it was a coworker’s birthday—cause for a surprise muffin—or that their assistant had brought them a cinnamon roll last Wednesday and they should repay the favor.
Yes, Josie and Zoe knew who their customers worked with, who got along with who, who didn’t, who was allergic to walnuts, who hated anything flavored with pumpkin, who was likely to choose a cinnamon roll with more frosting, or one with less. It was good business. And inevitable after living here and waiting on these people for years.
Aiden didn’t know those things. That meant this morning, Bud Wilmer had walked out with only one cream cheese Danish rather than the dozen he should have, considering it was his best carpenter’s first day back on the job after his wife had given birth to their first daughter. Zoe could have easily convinced Bud to take Danish for the whole crew as a mini celebration. Travis Buckley had also walked out with a banana muffin for his partner, Dana. Dana hated banana muffins. That was going to be awkward.
Aiden definitely couldn’t help anymore.
But he could sit his nice ass at one of her tables in his suit and tie and work with her Wi-Fi any time he wanted.
“Oliver, we need to know all about the benefits they have now so that Grant can look into improving their plans.” Aiden paused. “Yes, I want you to start comparing plans now.” He listened for a few seconds. “You can start with that, but we need to go bigger. I’m not sure we know enough.” Another pause. “Because we want to do better. We want to improve things.” He let out a sigh. “Sure. If everything is fine, great. But Dax will be able to tell us that. I don’t want bottom line and numbers and lists of services to be our only consideration, Grant. I mean it. I want Dax to talk to the employees. See what they want and need. Let’s show them they matter.”
He paused again and turned to pace to the front door of the bakery then back to the table.
Zoe kept icing cookies, but her mind was only half on her task. Not even half. Because her mind was 80 percent on Aiden. Which left only 20 percent for the… what was she decorating again? Oh yeah, flowers.
This was interesting. She’d never seen Aiden working. Not like this. Not real work.
She’d seen him mowing grass around town as a kid. That had been before he’d developed any muscles to speak of and long before she’d developed any appreciation for guys with muscles, so seeing him with his shirt off in the summer had done nothing for her.
She’d seen him serving ice cream and making milkshakes at the drive-in by the highway a couple of summers, mostly because her friends had thought he and Camden were so cute and always wanted to go there. What she’d seen was a couple of guys who laughed at fart jokes and who never left any mashed potatoes for her and who flirted with the same girls they said were bitches behind their backs. She had not been impressed by Aiden’s sundaes either. He skimped on the caramel and thought chocolate ice cream with marshmallow topping was the best combo, which was not true. Clearly he was not an ice cream sundae connoisseur, and she had no idea why all the girls thought he was so great behind that counter.
But what he was doing this morning in the bakery was real work. He was a grown man now. He made a lot of money. His company was very successful. Additionally, it was clear, even from just this side of the conversation, that he was kind of the one in charge. At least, he was the one making assignments for the rest of the guys.
Plus, dammit, he looked hot in that tie. And when he was talking business and bossing people around, his voice seemed deeper and firmer.
Zoe shifted a little as her nipples tingled. That was stupid.
“Great. Having you on-site would make it all even better,” he said into the phone. He slid back into his chair and tapped on his computer keyboard. “I need a few more days.” He paused and typed something in. “I know that.” More typing. “Fine, that will work. But not Cam.”
Zoe grinned as she finished off the petal on the last cookie. Cam was a stubborn ass and didn’t listen very well to many people. Aiden Anderson might be the one person who could get Cam to do what he wanted. Or to not do what Aiden didn’t want him to do.
“Call me when you know.” Aiden paused. “Okay, sounds good. Let’s get this done right.”
He disconnected, and Zoe glanced over to see him run a hand through his hair. She pressed her lips together, moving the freshly decorated cookies to the tray with the rest of the finished ones. She looked over at him again. He was typing on the computer, intent on the screen. Then he sat back, breathing out.
“You listened to Jane,” she commented.
He looked up, almost like he’d forgotten her for a moment. “What?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said, gesturing toward his makeshift workstation in general.
“Oh.” He glanced at the phone then back up at her. “Right. Sorry.”
“Didn’t bother me,” she said. She propped her hip against the worktable. “But it sounds like the things Jane said last night made an impression.”
“What things?” he asked.
“About benefits and how nice it would be if management would just talk to their employees and listen.”
Aiden swallowed. “Oh. That. Yeah, I heard her.”
“I think it’s cool you would take something a friend tells you and apply it to your company. You’re using her to help you look at your own company through an employee’s eyes and experiences rather than as management.” Zoe lifted a shoulder.
She hadn’t really thought about the fact that her brother and Aiden had employees. She knew that, of course, but she hadn’t thought about them having people who actually depended on them and that they had to make decisions like benefits that could help or hurt the people who worked for them. That was very grown-up. Responsible. Probably stressful.
She only had one employee, and she was thinking about Jocelyn and how Buttered Up, and its successes and failures, affected her all the time. She worried about it and felt guilty she couldn’t provide her amazing employee—and best friend—with a robust, secure, awesome benefits package. The best she could really do was pay her a decent wage—for Appleby, Iowa—give her time off when she needed it, and keep her in cupcakes and pie for life.
She made great cupcakes and pie. But that didn’t exactly equal a 401(k) and dental. In fact, cake and pie kind of worked against a dental plan in some ways. Or maybe they made a dental plan even more important.
Aiden was watching her closely. “I want the people who work for me to be glad they’re working for me.”
“Well, the best way to know how to make them glad is to ask them,” she said. “That’s a great first step. Do you think the plan you have now isn’t good enough?”
“I have reason to think it can be improved,” he said. “And after listening to Jane last night, I’d like to know more about things like childcare needs and other benefits that could make a real difference in their lives.” He was looking at her with a strange expression. But he kept talking. “There are long-term things that matter. Things like retirement and life insurance and covering time off for jury duty, things off in the future or that don’t come up very often. But I’m aware there are day-to-day needs that impact people’s lives that can really make them feel taken care of on a more direct level.”
She thought about that. Childcare definitely seemed to fit that description. “Like what?” she asked.
“Transportation,” he said. “Some people are limited to where they can work, or what hours they can work, because of sharing cars or needing public transportation.”
Zoe nodded. She’d never thought about that. “What else?”
“The chance to go to school and advance in the company for additional training or certifications or degrees,” he said. “Pay advances or reasonable loans or even grants for emergencies like the furnace going out in January or a kid wanting to go to summer camp.”
Zoe’s eyes widened. “Really? You do that? You give an employee money to send their kid to summer camp?”
“Why not? Summer camp is awesome. Every kid who wants to go should get to.”
Wow. It turned out Aiden and Cam were not only grown-ups with employees who needed things like reasonable pay and medical coverage and a way to take Christmas off at least every couple of years, but they—at least Aiden—were realizing there was more to those people working for them than just product makers.
“So you’re the one who’s in charge? With your company? With the other guys?” she asked.
He’d definitely sounded bossy on the phone. And hot. She hadn’t seen that side of Aiden before either. He was generally easygoing. He would get a little worked up on the basketball court or football field. He and Cam had definitely had a few fights—that got physical at times—over the years. Her brother was a stubborn, opinionated, cocky, not-really-easygoing guy, so he and Aiden had clashed at times. Usually when Aiden was trying to tell Cam to stop being a jerk or to pull his head out of his ass about something. But for the most part, Aiden wasn’t bossy exactly. He didn’t need to be. Things worked out for him without all that much effort.
“I’m… the organizer,” he said, finally settling on a word.
“What does that mean exactly?” she asked, intrigued suddenly by how his company ran.
He and Cam had owned their company—she couldn’t even think of the name of it at the moment—for nine years. She’d never been all that curious about how it all ran, what they each did day to day, or even how they really felt about it.
“The guys are each really good at specific things. They’re very talented and they’re very passionate,” Aiden said. “When you get four strong-willed, talented, and passionate people together, it’s a good idea to have someone else who can… steer the ship.”
“You’re not talented or passionate?” she asked. She gave him a teasing smile. He was definitely both of those things. There was no question about that.
He grinned. “Brat. I like to think I’m both. But I’m a good… offensive coordinator.” His smile grew. “Like on a football team. You need a great quarterback. You need talented running backs. You need a solid offensive line, and you need gifted receivers. But you also need a coordinator who can put them all together. Who can come up with a game plan and put everyone where they’re going to be the biggest asset and then make changes as needed as the game goes on. Someone needs to call the plays.”
“You call the plays,” Zoe said. “You’re the one putting the plan in place.”
He nodded. “Dax is definitely a receiver. He goes out, runs the route we need him to, always makes the catch. The flashy stuff. The big yard gains.”
Zoe grinned, enjoying Aiden’s analogy. It worked for her. She’d grown up watching Cam and Aiden play as well as following the Iowa Hawkeyes. She knew football.
“Is Cam the quarterback?” she asked.
He laughed. “No. Cam is the offensive lineman. He’s the one knocking people down who get in our way, breaking open holes to help us get ahead.”
She nodded. “I can see that. Who else?” God, she couldn’t even come up with the other guys’ names. That was terrible. These were her brother’s best friends.
“Grant. He’s our money guy. He’s like the running back. He makes smaller gains, safer plays, not the flashy, go-for-it stuff like Dax. But he’s tough, and he’ll fight for every yard for us. And he’ll protect that football. Nobody will get it away from him.”
“Who’s the quarterback?” Zoe asked. “There has to be a quarterback, right?”
Aiden nodded. “That’s Ollie. Oliver. He’s the visionary. The one who sees the whole field, who is up for whatever it takes to make the biggest play. He looks at every play as a chance to make a touchdown. He’s also the one who will generally follow the game plan—my plan—but you never know when he’s suddenly going to tuck it and run himself or throw a Hail Mary pass. He’s smart and cocky, and you wish like hell you could bench him for his stunts, but without him, the whole thing falls apart.”
She smiled. Aiden wasn’t looking at her now. He was studying the cookies in front of her. Though she didn’t think he really saw them. He was thinking of his friends. Affectionately, clearly. But also with some exasperation.
“Sounds like a great team.”
“When we’re on the same page, we’re amazing,” Aiden said without any conceit. It seemed he was just stating a fact. “But we have our disagreements, of course. And…” He was thinking hard about something.
“And what?”
“I don’t know that we’ve ever really been challenged.” He looked up at her. “We’re talented, and we balance each other out, but the truth is, we’re all also pretty charmed.”
She nodded. “You always have been.”
He didn’t disagree. “We still have a lot to learn about running a business and being bosses. At least, being good bosses. Our company started out with just the five of us. We didn’t need childcare, and healthcare for young, single guys is different than for other employees. When I had to get my appendix out, our plan didn’t cover much of it, but I could afford the huge deductible and co-pay.”
“Wait a second,” Zoe interrupted with a frown. “You had your appendix out?”
“Yeah. Three years ago. Almost burst. The guys actually rushed me to the hospital from a basketball game.”
“You were playing basketball while you had appendicitis?” Zoe asked. She hadn’t known any of that and that bothered her. A lot. “That was stupid.”
“I didn’t know it was my appendix,” he protested.
“Did your stomach hurt? Did you feel like crap?”
“Yes. But…”
She lifted her brows. “But what?”
“We were in the finals in the tournament.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have a life insurance policy that would have covered you if you would have died?”
“Yes.”
She stopped and met his eyes. She let out a breath. Of course he had a life insurance policy. He knew better than most that sometimes you needed that long before you planned on it. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “It’s fine. Yes, I have a life insurance policy. Also a will and lots of paperwork covering what happens with the business if one of us dies or quits.”
It was a big-time business. A true corporation. They needed that kind of paperwork. Zoe… didn’t. The bakery would probably go back to her mom, who might run it for a while and keep Josie employed. Maybe they’d sell to Josie eventually. Though she had no idea if her friend had that kind of money, and it would be very weird for Buttered Up to not belong to a McCaffery.
But if Zoe keeled over from a ruptured appendix, that whole thing would be up in the air.
Damn. She’d never really thought of that.
“If you’re just going to stand there, distracting me, you could at least come back here and help me frost cookies,” she finally said.
He straightened, and his hands went to his tie.
She watched, almost mesmerized, as he unknotted it, pulled it loose from his collar, then tossed it to the table he’d been using.
That was hardly real undressing. He’d been a hell of a lot more naked in the kitchen at home that morning. But there was something about how he took that stupid tie off that made her stomach feel warm and twisty.
Wow, she really did need to get laid. It was stupid to get worked up about Aiden taking his tie off.
He came around the counter and stopped next to her at the worktable.
“You really want me to help with this?” he asked, looking over the cookies she’d already done.
He smelled so good. She took a deep breath then said, “Sure, why not?”
“Because I haven’t frosted cookies in years.”
She smiled. “It’s like riding a bike. And I’ll let you do the easy stuff.”
This was all pretty easy. Josie did the hard stuff. Zoe was amazed by her friend’s talents and knew she and Buttered Up were totally screwed if Josie ever left her. Zoe could do round cakes and square cakes. Period. She’d once tried an octagon for a stop sign cake. She’d ended up cutting the corners off to make it a round cake and had drawn a stop sign in the middle of it.
The largest area of the cookies were covered in blue icing, and then she added embellishments with other colors over the blue. Aiden could swipe blue icing on, surely. She showed him what she wanted him to do with one then picked up a tube of pink frosting.
She started adding pink piping around a few of the petals as she cleared her throat. “I have to admit I was surprised to hear you talking about childcare and having Dax go meet with people. I’ve always pictured you guys sitting around in beanbag chairs, playing games, and talking about your new t-shirt design as your biggest item of business.”
“Well, we talk about the new diamond colors and monsters too. The princesses have to cut the heads off of something,” Aiden said as he spread blue frosting over the cookies. He did so carefully, swiping the edges to make them even and smooth. Just the way Maggie had taught them all when they’d been helping in the kitchen as kids.
“Right,” Zoe said. She watched him, a little distracted. “And childcare.”
“That’s actually a new thing,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of that until Jane said it last night.”
He was clearly concentrating on the cookies, but he kept talking. This felt very natural. They’d helped with cookies and cupcakes and other things over the years, but Zoe didn’t remember a time it had ever been just her and Aiden. This was nice.
It also occurred to her he’d always taken this seriously. He didn’t take seriously her dislike of the Lancasters or the idea of Hot Cakes being a true competitor for Buttered Up, but he did take the bakery and their business and what they did seriously—even down to making sure the blue icing on the cookies was smooth and even. She appreciated that.
He didn’t have to. A lot of men in his position probably wouldn’t. He was a millionaire, running an internationally known, highly successful business. That was all still very hard for her to remember. Which she supposed was a good thing. He didn’t act like a guy with a lot of money. He didn’t try to buy his way into or out of things. He didn’t flaunt it, or take things for granted, or act like he was better than anyone else. He was the same guy she’d always known. More confident. More commanding. More experienced and smarter. But still the same guy deep down.
That was… important. It hit her squarely. The idea that Aiden was truly the same person, after all this time and after everything that had happened to him, really mattered. She was, after all, the woman who really liked things that stayed the same.
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on pink piping. It was difficult. Because suddenly she was distracted by how small the cookies were in his big hands, how delicate they were but how careful he was being, and how cute he was when he was earnest about a task. His brow was furrowed with concentration as he turned the cookie this way and that, making sure the icing was perfect. He wanted to get it right, and that made her… want to cover his naked body in blue icing.
She swallowed. “Really?” she finally said in response to his comment about daycare for his employees. “I think that’s great you took that all so seriously,” she said sincerely. “I mean, I’ve never given that stuff a lot of thought either. Jane talks about work at Hot Cakes some, but she doesn’t need childcare, and the most we’ve talked about benefits is when she tells me I can no way match what she gets there so, no, she won’t work for me.” Zoe bent over a cookie, swiping a thin pink swirl on the tip of each petal of the flower. “I’ve only got the one employee, and I just…” She shouldn’t say the rest of that sentence.
She knew a lot of people—okay, her brother and Aiden and Jane and Josie—thought she was a little stuck. They understood and supported her in wanting to keep her family’s legacy alive and to keep Buttered Up the Appleby staple it had always been. But they also thought her strict adherence to keeping everything the same always was a little crazy. But it wasn’t their shoulders where the family legacy rested. If she did something new and it didn’t work, it wasn’t just an embarrassment to her. It was the whole Buttered Up reputation at stake.
Why would she not stick to the recipes and routines that had been proven to work? She really had it pretty easy here. She literally had the recipe to success. More than one recipe, even.
Aiden stopped his knife and looked at her. “You just?” he prompted.
“I just keep doing what’s always been done,” she said, staring at the cookie. “I just keep doing what works.”
“But needs change over time no matter what stays the same inside this bakery—the paint colors and the recipes and the menu—the people change. Your customers change. And your employee will change.” He paused then apparently decided to go on. “I know Buttered Up has been run by a McCaffery woman and her best friend from the very start. But… if you think about it… Didi changed. Or something changed. That’s what started the whole feud between Letty and Didi.”
“Didi got greedy,” Zoe said with a frown. That was always the way Letty had told it. Didi saw a way to make more money, and instead of adhering to quality and tradition, she’d sold out.
“Or she was willing to take a chance Letty wasn’t,” Aiden said.
“She gambled her lifelong friendship on that,” Zoe said. “And lost it. She has snack cakes—had,” she corrected. “She had snack cakes. But now look at her. That business is being sold off to someone else. The Lancasters will no longer have it, while Letty’s bakery is still going strong. Just as it always has.”
Aiden turned toward her and leaned a hip into the worktable. He waited until she looked up at him. Why? So he could see her eyes? Read her expression?
“Didi has made more money in one year with Hot Cakes than Buttered Up has ever made,” he said.
He didn’t say it cruelly. He said it matter-of-factly. Then seemed to watch her closely.
Zoe straightened too and faced him. “Yes, I know. But Letty had something Didi doesn’t. Something worth even more.”
“What’s that?”
“Her integrity.”
Aiden nodded slowly.
“And loyalty,” Zoe went on. “Sure, Didi has people on her side, but Letty has true customers. People who come back over and over, for every occasion that matters to them, to this bakery. People send people they love our cakes and cookies and pies. People want our products to be a part of special days like weddings and birthdays. When people come in here they know exactly what they’re going to get. With Hot Cakes… people stuff those in their lunch boxes and glove compartments—” She gave him a little frown. “No one sends those to their moms for Mother’s Day or with engagement rings baked inside or with It’s a Girl frosted on top. We have people’s hearts. They just have their wallets.”
Zoe felt her heart racing. Dammit. Why did he set her off? He knew all those things and how she felt about them. Why was he pushing these buttons?
“Remember what I said about defending Hot Cakes and getting into my pants?” she asked him crossly.
“I do,” he said. He leaned in slightly. “So panties don’t count as pants? Because I remember, distinctly, getting into your panties this morning.”