Brownies & Betrayal (Sweet Bites Mysteries, Book 1) (12 page)

“No problem. Does my help get me another date with you?” I felt his minty breath fan across my cheek.

I smiled despite myself. “Well, I suppose it might.” I turned my head so I looked into his face, inches from my own. “What did you have in mind?”

His lips curved, and the bell rang over the front door as someone entered.

“What do you think you’re doing? Who is that?” The voice from across the room was all too familiar.

I almost dropped the paint roller, but Shawn kept his hand tightly wrapped around mine even as he straightened, shifting his torso a few inches away from mine.

I didn’t have to look at the intruder. I’d know Bronson’s voice anywhere. What was he doing in Silver Springs? It’s not like it was only an afternoon drive from Chicago. I turned to face him. As usual, he was decked out in his suit and carrying his laptop bag. As mad and hurt as I was over what happened, I still sucked in a little breath when I saw how terrific he looked. Then I clenched my jaw—I was not going there again.

Shawn released my hand, but not my waist, nor did he move away.

“Bronson, what are you doing here?” I stared at him.

He approached, his actions indicating he thought he had a right to intrude. “I came to talk some sense into you. What is
he
doing here?” He gestured to Shawn.

“He came to help me paint. There’s a lot to do before I can open this place for business.” The warmth of Shawn’s hand on my waist grew scalding, but I didn’t shake him off. It felt good having someone behind me, supporting me as I faced down Bronson. And I was amazed he hadn’t stepped forward to interfere. No way would Bronson have let me handle a confrontation without thinking he had to be the big tough man in charge.

“Who’s the suit?” Shawn asked.

“I’m her fiancé, Bronson DeMille the third.” As always, his introduction was self-important. Usually his attitude just made me roll my eyes, even if only on the inside, but right now I found it more than a minor irritation.

Shawn let go and moved away from me, as if I were suddenly contagious. “You’re engaged?”

“No, he’s my
ex
-fiancé, who became my
ex
when I caught him cheating on me.” I missed having Shawn’s hand on my hip, but decided it was as well. I turned my attention back to the jerk I once thought I would marry. “What do you want, Bronson?”

Shawn’s defection seemed to give Bronson courage and he walked over, taking my free hand. “Sweetheart, that was all a misunderstanding. You know how much I love you.”

Okay, this was an approach I hadn’t anticipated. But I hadn’t expected to see him at all, so I supposed I shouldn’t have expectations about how he would act. “Really? So I find you sucking face with Karen—made all the worse by the fact that I hate her—and I’m supposed to know that it’s not important, that you still love me? After all, it’s just one of those things that sometimes happens before a guy gets married.” I let the sarcasm ooze and drip.

He took the paint roller and set it in the tray, then moved to take my other hand. I snatched both hands out of his reach and stepped back, closer to Shawn. Bronson looked hurt. “Tess, it was a mistake—a major one—but I promise it won’t happen again. You belong in Chicago, not in this backwater town making cupcakes and brownies for school children.” There was more than a little sneer in his voice.

“
Gourmet
cupcakes and brownies, and it won’t only be for children. I’m going to enjoy what I do here, having my own space, doing things my way.” Even if I am terrified of the paperwork and taxes and balancing the books. “I already have a few clients and am working out an agreement to do wedding cakes for the new hotel in town.”

“Don’t be silly, Tess. You’re too right-brained. You can’t handle running your own business.” His voice had turned from wheedling to condescending. Jerk.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Shawn broke in, setting a supportive hand on the small of my back. It was a little gesture Bronson might not have noticed, but I couldn’t help but give my full attention. “She seems to be making a great go of it. Business license, tax ID number, new name, new equipment. It looks to me like she’s plenty capable.”

I flushed from his praise. Such a difference from Bronson, who tended to put me down in business instead of letting me prove myself. Not that I wanted the position he’d given to Karen, but it would have been nice if he’d acted like he thought I was capable of doing it.

“It won’t last six months. Besides, you have commitments in Chicago. The Goulds are threatening to sue the hotel, me
and
you if you don’t take care of their wedding cake and pastries. They say the biggest reason they booked with us was because of your talent. And the Tanners are right behind them.”

I should have called him back. Or answered one of his calls. If he’d known I planned to come back and handle the Goulds’ wedding, he might not have shown up here. Still, I didn’t say anything yet, just gave him a steady look. I was rewarded when sweat beaded on his upper lip. This was all too easy, and surprisingly entertaining. I’d forgotten I had such a mean streak. I usually manage to keep it in check.

“Why don’t you get rid of him,” he gave Shawn a nasty look, “and we can work this out.”

“Actually, Shawn is here to help me paint, and I need to get the kitchen done today. How about if he stays and I’ll meet you tonight to discuss specific clients.”

Shawn said, “Are you sure you want to meet with him?” while Bronson’s response was, “You’re picking him? And who is he, anyway?”

I counted to ten. Seriously, men drove me crazy sometimes. I turned back to Shawn. “I do need to work things out for the Goulds’ cake, at least. I realized that a couple of days ago. Even though I’m mad at him, I do still care about the clients. I have to go back to Chicago and clean out my condo, anyway. When I left Chicago I hadn’t intended to stay here permanently.”

Bronson let out a relieved breath even as Shawn’s brows winged up. “I knew you’d come to your senses,” Bronson said. “But why didn’t you answer one of my calls so we could work this out over the phone?”

I turned back to my ex. “I enjoyed letting you sweat for a change. And I’m not coming back to work for you—I’m coming back for a little while to do those two cakes and clear out my condo while details finalize here. So I really need to finish painting today.” I gave him a pointed look.

“All right. We’ll discuss it over dinner. Is there somewhere decent to eat around here?”

It only took me a moment to decide where I wanted to go. “Paul’s Burger Shack on Center Street and Gilla Lane. Six o’clock.”

“When I said somewhere decent, I meant somewhere nice.” He looked down his nose at me, as if disgusted. Had I never noticed what a snob he was? Had I become that bad while we dated?

“If you want to talk to me, you’ll buy me a burger. I’ve been too busy to eat there since I made it back home, and they have great food. Take it or leave it.”

“This is not your home,” Bronson insisted. “Chicago is your home.” He tried claiming my hand again, but I picked up the paint roller from the counter and held it between us and he backed off.

I slid my empty hand into my back pocket where he couldn’t reach it. “Since I’ve moved here permanently, I say this is home. Now if you’ll let me get back to work?”

He scowled at me, at Shawn and turned on his heel. “Six sharp,” he called over his shoulder before heading out the door.

I waited for the door to close and the ringing bell to go silent before turning back to Shawn, who grinned at me. “What?” I asked.

“You’re feisty! I had no idea. I mean, I have a couple of vague memories from when we were little, but you seem so buttoned down and cool now.”

“Well, you know some things never change. I’m just harder to rile than I used to be.” I leaned over and picked up the paintbrush he’d set down and handed it back to him. “You’re tall—do the high spots.”

He went to work with enthusiasm. A moment passed before he started talking again. “He cheated on you?”

“Yep.” No good, lousy jerk.

He slid me a sideways glance that held more than a hint of appreciation. “Is he crazy? Why would any man cheat on a gorgeous, feisty woman like you?”

I blushed and averted my eyes as I started laying down the paint. “You flatter me.”

“Not at all. And I think I’d be afraid to cross you.” He tugged on a lock of my hair and I turned to face him.

“No need. I didn’t hurt him, or Karen. I even left the engagement ring, though on second thought, it would have bought me an awesome cookie roller. Maybe I’ll ask for it back so I can hawk it.” I wouldn’t do any such thing, unfortunately. Beyond being unethical, it would give Bronson hope, and I was going to have a hard enough time getting rid of him as it was. Apparently.

“Ouch.” But there was amusement in Shawn’s voice, so I wasn’t fooling him.

I decided we’d talked too much about my relationship with Bronson, and turned the conversation to memories from my visits to Silver Springs as a kid. Shawn didn’t protest the change of subject.

We finished the kitchen, the buyer came for the grill and Shawn helped him load it. Finally we shifted everything back to the kitchen or clustered it in the middle of the room so I could paint the dining room. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to use part of this space for storage or displays, but I figured there would be time to consider that later. When Shawn left me at four-thirty, it was with a kiss, and a date for lunch the next day—a meal I was definitely looking forward to, as compared to that night’s meeting with Bronson.

Paul’s Burger Shack was one of those great old places with a display of Coca-Cola memorabilia and pictures on the wall of all of the celebrities who had stopped in to eat. The restaurant even smelled like it should—sweetness from the ice cream and soda machine, grease from the fryer, the lingering hint of bacon. Childhood memories practically surrounded me as soon as I walked in the door. I ordered, then joined Bronson at the table.

“So what was up with that guy today?” Bronson asked almost the moment I sat down.

“He’s a friend.” I chose not to elaborate, if only to drive Bronson crazy.

“A friend.
Really
? Because the way he touched you looked more than friendly to me.” His beautiful mouth was set in a firm line. I used to love kissing that mouth. Now when I saw it, I could only think about whom else had enjoyed it.

I did my best to look unconcerned. “Sorry, you lost your right to be jealous when I caught you with Karen.”

His eyes narrowed and he rested his hands on each other on the tabletop. “I don’t remember you mentioning anyone named Shawn before.”

“I didn’t talk about everyone I knew from here. I haven’t seen him in years. Get over it.” I glanced at the menu board, not wanting to discuss my flirtation with Shawn. They announced my shake—that’s what I call super-fast service—and I jumped up to get it.

When I reached the front counter, I looked over my shoulder at Bronson. It was strange—I’d never felt so empowered when I dated him. Most of the time he made demands, and I agreed to what he wanted—not because he was mean or controlling so much as the fact that he was a bit of a whiner, and it was irritating dealing with him if he didn’t get his way. There were benefits to letting him have his way though, since a happy Bronson was so easy-going and fun to be with. Generous, articulate and I did mention something about him being a good kisser, right?

I waited until my order was ready: a burger and onion rings—some of the best on the planet—while I enjoyed my thick chocolate Oreo shake. My favorite. Of course, I’d be taking long power walks every day for weeks to work off the fat and calories, but I’d been pretty good lately. Or maybe not, I realized as I remembered the éclairs. And the brownies. And the cheesecake. I paused for a second to add up the calories. But it had been a stressful weekend, I finally decided, so I was entitled.

“You know that’s going to make you feel like a bloated sow,” Bronson pointed out when we were seated again at our table.

Tact was not one of his strong points—not in his personal relationships, anyway. “Not your problem anymore.” I took a large bite of the thick, juicy hamburger and almost purred in pleasure. It had been way too long since I’d eaten here.

“Fine.” He held up his hands as if I had yelled at him.

Well, maybe I had snapped a little. Who would blame me?

After a long moment passed and he was halfway through his own burger, he started talking. “So you actually like it here? I mean, I know you enjoy visiting, but to live in Silver Springs full time?” He looked around, as if unimpressed by anything he saw.

I became even more defensive. “Yes. It’s charming and friendly and I love it.”

He snorted, like he knew me so well. “You aren’t going to get bored?’

“Prescott is only twenty minutes away, and there’s plenty going on there. Phoenix is less than an hour, and there are tons of shows and restaurants there. But I doubt there’ll be much free time.” I knew enough about running a business to be certain I wouldn’t get days off or be able to take time to relax with any regularity.