Page 3 of Bittersweet

The thought of partnering with a food truck made her cringe. Not that she had anything against them or the industry itself, but owning a food truck had been one of Logan’s dreams. At the time, it had sounded like so much fun—selling her baked goods out of a truck, traveling around to festivals and events together. She loved to travel, and he had always wanted to, so it seemed like the perfect business to start together.

Looking back, she’d been so naive, so trusting. She actually thought they had a future together.

She shook her head, annoyed that Logan was hanging out in her thoughts again. She’d been so good at not thinking about him, but it was September. They had met in September. He had told her he loved her in September. That, and her earlier conversation with Savannah, had to be why he was stuck in her mind.

Harper found the coffee truck at the location Savannah had given her and drove around the block a couple times until she found a parking space. She retrieved the box of goodies from the back seat and made her way down the street to where Bittersweet was parked. The truck was a dark espresso brown with a bold white logo of a coffee cup on wheels painted on the side. She liked it instantly.

The window of the food truck was closed, so she approached the door and raised her hand to knock just as it flung open.

“Ow!” She jerked back when the door slammed against her knuckles, causing her to drop the box. “Son of a biscuit!”

She rubbed her hand, trying to ease some of the pain, and crouched down to where the contents lay scattered across the sidewalk. There was no way to salvage them, so she retrieved the box and was pleased to find a lone, untouched cupcake within.

Her hand throbbed as she took the cupcake from the box. She let out a sigh as she straightened and stood, a little annoyed that the man standing in the doorway hadn’t apologized or offered assistance. Jerk.

“I guess this one will have to do. Unless you don’t follow the five-second rule.” She held out the cupcake and finally glanced up at the man in the truck. He was standing as still as a statue, gaping at her.

The solitary cupcake fell from her hand and landed frosting down at her feet.

“Logan?”

2

Harper was still as cute as ever. Except Logan much preferred her long blonde hair down, flowing over her shoulders, than twisted up in the tight bun she wore at the moment. And those bright blue eyes he’d always gotten so lost in seemed even bluer than he remembered.

“I guess that one’s a lost cause too.” Logan chuckled as he stepped down from the truck and into her personal space, glancing down at the last cupcake smashed on the ground. “How are you, Harper?”

She stuttered and stammered and said basically nothing before bending down to scoop the mess of cupcakes, cookies, and scones back into the box. She struggled to use only her left hand. The right one was red and swollen from where the door had struck it.

“I’m sorry about your hand. Do you want some help?” He started to bend down to assist in the cleanup, but she waved him away.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and simply stood there, watching with amusement. His gaze followed the slope of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, remembering how soft her skin felt when he would nuzzle against it.

His heart rate kicked up a notch. If he stared too much longer, he might do something embarrassing so he attempted conversation instead.

“I didn’t know you worked at a bakery, Cupcake.” That wasn’t the truth.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stood. “Don’t call me that. And don’t tell me you didn’t know it was my shop.”

“Your shop? You own it?” He knew she did.

Her eyes met his as she gave him her I-know-what-you’re-up-to look. She’d always been able to put him in his place with a single stare. It was one of the reasons they were perfect for each other. She called him on his crap. She made him want to be a better man. The best man he could be. For her.

But then everything had fallen apart before it really got started. And it was obvious by the expression of disbelief on her face that she wasn’t over it.

Harper turned on her heel and walked away, dropping the box of ruined treats into a nearby trash can on the way to her car.

“Wait!” Logan called after her. “At least come inside so I can get some ice for your hand. I’ll give you a tour of the truck while we’re at it.”

Harper’s steps slowed.

“Come on. You know you want to see it.” He wasn’t above begging.

She stopped and turned to look at him.

He tilted his head toward the truck and motioned her over, hoping she would take the bait, wondering if she was at all curious.

They had talked about having their own truck someday, but he was completely unoriginal when it came to anything other than the coffee. The real genius behind the whole thing—from kitchen layout to menu design—had been Harper. They’d spent hour upon hour in coffee shops, planning and dreaming. She’d been full of creative, imaginative suggestions, and everything he’d done during the remodel of this truck was inspired by her. He hadn’t forgotten a single detail.

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