Page 2 of A Sweet Mess

“I would never break a pinkie promise,” she replied, her voice husky with emotion.

“Thank you so much, Aubrey.” Andy’s mom lifted the cake box out of Aubrey’s hands and detached her daughter from her waist.

“My pleasure. Sorry again about the mix-up.”

Aubrey jogged back to her Jeep without pausing to savor the moment. She had to get back to the bakery for closing. The adrenaline drained from her, leaving her limp and tired, and she wasn’t looking forward to the scrubbing and mopping waiting for her.

When she pulled up to the shop, she saw theSORRY WE MISSED YOUsign displayed on the door. It was perfectly askew, just the way she liked it, and the lights inside were dimmed to a soft glow. With confused wonder, she heaved her leaden body out of the Jeep and shuffled to the shop.

“Wow. Awesome adulting,” Aubrey said as gratitude squeezed her heart in a bear hug. Lily was halfway finished with the cleanup, showing more initiative than she ever had. Sniffing back silly tears, Aubrey grabbed a bottle of organic surface cleaner and a dish towel. “I really appreciate your help. The adrenaline wore off, and I’m running on empty. Thank you.”

“It’s…” Her teenage scowl slipped, and she suddenly looked so young and sweet. “You’re welcome.”

They cleaned in quiet harmony and closed up shop only half an hour late. Lily zoomed in and out of the locker room, securing her earbuds and pulling her hoodie over her head. She was halfway to the door when she waved good-bye withoutbothering to turn around. Aubrey smiled. Lily could pretend otherwise, but she liked her dorky boss.

Aubrey stuffed her arms into a black windbreaker and slung her purse across her torso. She reached for the doorknob but hesitated. The day didn’t end in complete disaster, but the disappearance of the original Frankencake niggled at the back of her mind. And her body still twitched from the ups and downs of the day. If she wanted some decent REM cycles, she had to decompress before heading home.

Aubrey took a wary sniff of her shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

She couldn’t walk into a public establishment like this. People would probably see noxious, green fumes wafting from her top and reach for their clothespins. Twisting her neck far away from her stinky self, Aubrey hurried to the locker room and disposed of the offending shirt, wrapping it tightly in a plastic bag. Wetting some paper towels, she wiped away the evidence of her stress and tugged her arms through a spare shirt she kept for emergencies. It had a picture of Cookie Monster hugging a jar of cookies with the captionMY PRECIOUSbelow him.

It wasn’t a fancy work-to-evening transformation, but she was weeknight-presentable. With anticipation in her steps, Aubrey set out on foot to her favorite pub, Weldon Brewery. The three-block walk there should skim off more of her anxiety.

The brewery stood on the edge of downtown, and it was fast becoming Sierra Nevada’s worst-kept secret. They’d swept top-beer awards across the country for five consecutive years, and craft beer aficionados pilgrimaged to the brewery and packed the place to the brim. The head brewer, Tara Park, happened to be Aubrey’s best friend.Lucky me.

The air was nippy for an early-summer evening, so she stuffed her hands inside her jean pockets but didn’t pick up her pace. The setting sun drenched the cozy town in a blanketof deep coral and whispers of violet—a scene from a storybook come to life. A dreamy smile broke through Aubrey’s restlessness. Weldon washome.Even after four years, it was hard to believe Comfort Zone stood nestled among the brightly colored mom-and-pop stores lining the tidy streets.

When she pushed through the sturdy wooden doors of the brewery, the high ceiling, repurposed wood beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows welcomed her with their warm, rustic charm. It was a weeknight, so it wasn’t too crowded, but it was busy enough to hum with conversation and laughter.

“Give me the good stuff, woman.” Aubrey settled onto a barstool and pounded her fist on the bar for effect. “Ow.”

“Wuss. You’re an embarrassment to badass, bar-pounding women everywhere. Here.” Tara plunked down a pint of blond ale and narrowed her eyes as Aubrey gulped down a third of it. “Damn, girl. I’ll take back calling you a wuss; slow down. I don’t want to drag your drunk ass home tonight.”

“Some friend you are.”

“I give you free beer and a shoulder to lean on. You wouldn’t find a better friend even if you scoured the earth for one.”

Tara was right. Life wouldn’t be complete without her. Aubrey lifted her mug in agreement and took a daintier gulp.

“Rough day in sugar land?”

“You could say that. Remember Andy’s special-order cake?” Tara made a gag face.Okay. She remembers.“Lily gave her cake to the wrong customer, so I baked another one and delivered it to Andy’s house. In the middle of afternoon rush. But you know what the scariest part is?”

“Andy made you stay and eat a slice of Frankencake?”

“No, it’s even worse. Lily has no idea who she sold the monstrosity to. It has to be some poor out-of-towner who desperately needed a chocolate Bundt cake. Tragically, they got theFrankencake instead and probably ended up choking on a peanut butter–covered gummy worm.”

“Yeah, that sounds very likely. Murder by Bizarro cake.” Her friend’s tone was dry, but her eyes softened with a smile. “You did everything you could. Now relax and enjoy my scintillating company.”

“Scintillating? Last week, it was electrifying.” Despite her grumbling, Aubrey did as directed, breathing deeply through her nose and drawing her shoulders away from her ears. Her next gulp of beer tasted even better, and all the day’s stress melted away.

“So which one’s your pride and joy?” A deep, delicious voice spoke from behind her.

A thrill rushed through Aubrey, and goose bumps spread down her arms.Maybe I shouldn’t have chugged all that beer on an empty stomach.

“Spank Me,” Tara said, checking out the customer under her lashes.

“I usually reserve that kind of fun for the third date.” The flirtatious response came much too easily, but his voice made it sound sophisticated and enticing.

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