Buttercream Bump Off by Jenn McKinlay Read Free Book Online Page A

asked.
    “I’ve already put my feelers out,” Tate said.
    The rest of lunch passed in silent, chewing appreciation of Lo-Lo’s, with the occasional debate about what to view for their next movie night. Angie was lobbying for a romantic comedy, since Valentine’s Day was rapidly approaching. Mel was hankering for an over-the-top Carmen Miranda musical, like she always did in times of stress. Tate was favoring any of Clint’s classic spaghetti Westerns.
    “So what we need is a singing, ‘fruit basket on the head’ heroine, falling in love with a funny hero, while they ride off into the sunset together having gutshot a bunch of bad guys,” Tate said.
    “That’d do it,” Angie said.
    “I’ll see what I can come up with,” he said.
    As they lingered over their sweet tea and red velvet cake, Tate handed out sections of the newspaper. Mel took the Life section first. She scanned an article about teeth care and then turned the page. Her heart stopped in her throat. “Oh, fudge!” she said.

Six

    “What? What is it?” Tate and Angie asked together.
    Mel flipped the paper open so they could see. On a quarter-page in bold pink was their advertisement for the Fairy Tale Cupcake Contest. For every four-pack of cupcakes purchased, customers could enter a drawing to win a night on the town, courtesy of Fairy Tale Cupcakes.
    “In all of the hullabaloo I completely forgot,” she said.
    “Me, too,” Angie moaned.
    “You have to go through with it now,” Tate said. “Besides, it’s not that much work. All you have to do is sell cupcakes and fill that raffle box. The dinner is all set and so is the car. It’ll be fine.”
    “I hope you’re right,” Mel said. “My heart is really not in it right now.”
    “No, but just imagine Olivia Puckett’s face when she picked up the paper this morning. I bet she about had a stroke,” Angie said.
    “I can rally for that,” Mel said.
    “Thought you might,” Angie said. “Come on. If we’re kicking this off tomorrow, like we say in the ad, we have to get to the shop and get some work done.”
    “Right behind you,” Mel said. They hugged Tate good-bye and hurried out of Lo-Lo’s and back to the bakery.
    It was a quiet afternoon at Fairy Tale Cupcakes. A few tourists popped in wanting individual cupcakes, and Angie took two phone orders for cupcakes for the next week, but otherwise all was quiet.
    Mel decided they’d better come up with a raffle box for the contest, so she took some leftover silver wrapping paper and a large cardboard box she’d been hoarding in her office for just this sort of thing. She had just finished covering the box with the silver paper when the front door banged open, shoved with more force than necessary, by an angry-looking man. He was tall and lanky, dressed in jeans and a flowing white shirt with a thread count that was so low she could see the ink of the many tattoos covering his arms through the fabric. He had long, straight black hair, a hook in his nose as if it had been broken repeatedly, full lips over a stubborn chin, and piercing pale blue eyes. He was attractive in a bad-boy, “your mom would have a coronary if you brought him home” kind of way.
    He did not look like a lover of cupcakes, or anything else sweet, for that matter. In fact, Mel would place odds that he was a salt guy. He stalked across the room, stopping by the booth where she was finishing the box.
    “May I help you?” she asked.
    He looked her over with an insolence that crossed the border into rudeness.
    “That depends,” he said. His upper lip curled slightly in what would have been an attractive, Elvis-like sneer if it hadn’t carried a butt-load of hostility with it. “Are you Ms. Cooper?”
    “Yes, I am,” she said. She tried to place him. Had they met before? Did he have a reason to be mad at her? Had she cut anyone off while driving lately? Or worse, had she dated him at some point and forgotten?
    She glanced at his face. No, she’d remember