Page 5 of Tart
“You betcha,” a voice said from behind me. “I’ll stand here and admire the goods.”
I spun around when I realized the voice was vaguely familiar. My gasp was audible when I saw Bishop standing in front of me. Or was he behind me? I shook my head at myself but resisted the eye roll waiting in the wings. I didn’t want him to think I was rolling them at him.
“Hey,” I said lamely, wishing I was way less socially awkward around men. “Welcome to The Fluffy Cupcake. I guess you finally found time to stop in.”
He smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets, bouncing up on his toes. “Today was only a half-day of school, so I thought maybe I’d celebrate the end of the year with a cupcake. The ones we had last week at the graduation ceremony were addicting.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” I said, plastering a smile on my face as I walked by him. “We still have a few in the case, which is unusual for this time of day. If you’re a serious connoisseur, you’re here before prime cupcake hour.”
“Prime cupcake hour?” he asked, perplexed, while he stared into the case.
“It’s a thing,” I promised, leaning on the counter with my hip. “If you don’t believe me, stop by between the hours of ten-thirty and noon.”
He pointed at me and smiled. “I just might do that. I’m always into new adventures, and since school is out for the summer, I’ll have lots of time on my hands.”
The way he saidnew adventuressent a shiver down my spine. The look on his face when I glanced up made me swallow hard around the lump in my throat. He was making conversation, but he was eyeing me like a lion eyes its prey.
I cleared my throat and plastered on the smile I use for little, sweet old ladies and incorrigible elderly gentlemen. “Maybe I can interest you in a new flavor of cupcake.” I motioned to the case. “I have some Berry Sinful, and some Raspberry Delights left.”
“What are those?” he asked, pointing at a pan below the cupcakes.
“Miniature raspberry lemonade tarts,” I answered.
“Tarts,” he said with a question in his tone.
“You know, a pastry crust filled with, in this case, lemon cream cheese, and topped with fresh raspberries and powdered sugar. It’s very tempting, a little sassy, a little sweet, and a lot yummy.”
When his eyes met mine in the next moment, I wanted to whimper at the look they held. If eyes could lick their lips, his would, and they were looking at me like I’d be their next meal. “That could be your nickname,” he said, his eyes never straying from mine. “Tart.”
I put my hand on my hip and huffed. “I am not promiscuous!”
He waved his hand in the air. “Not that definition of the word. Rather the one you just described. You’re very tempting, a little sassy, a lot sweet, and probably even more yummy. Anyway, I will definitely take one of those and also a Berry Sinful. I see cream cheese stuffed in the middle of that strawberry, and I’m all about stuffed strawberries dipped in chocolate.”
I was trying to make my brain work again after his little declaration. Those things he said about me were so far from the truth that they were laughable. At the same time, the way he said them raced a shiver up my spine. What should have been an easy transaction had become dangerously flirty and out of my comfort zone. I cleared my throat before I spoke to avoid my voice sounding like a whimper. “Excellent choice,” I said as I started packaging them up. “The Berry Sinful cupcake was last year’s Lake Pendle Cupcake Bake-off champion. Haylee competes every year.”
He held up his finger. “And wins every year?” I nodded, and he grasped his wallet from his back pocket. “Odd that they’d let a professional compete.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said, leaning on the counter with my palms. “Oh, that’s right. You’re new here. I’ll have to tell you the story someday.”
“I’d like that, Amber.”
The way he said my name made me swallow hard around the desire that filled me. I wanted him to leave immediately and stay forever. The fact that I had to war with those two emotions told me I needed to get him gone now.
“What do I owe you?” he asked, motioning at the box.
I thrust it toward him and waved away his money. “Consider it your welcome to Lake Pendle. Thanks for stopping by The Fluffy Cupcake.”
He accepted the box and smiled. I hated how much I liked the way it made his green eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “Thank you. A tart from a tart,” he said, holding up the box and winking. I swear I whimpered when his lashes brushed his cheek—men with lashes that long should be outlawed.
What is wrong with you, woman? Get a grip.
“Are you busy later?” he asked as he backed up toward the door.
“No, why?” I asked before I stopped long enough to think about it. Crap.
“I was hoping you could tell me the rest of the cupcake story,” he said, lifting the box in the air.
What do I do now? I just told him I didn’t have any plans, so I can’t pretend that changed in the last two seconds.
