Tangled Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls #2) (2 page)

“What?” Abby reached over for the bowl containing the vanilla frosting.

“Nothing.”

“Stop reading into things. I want to give him a cupcake that I
know
he’ll eat. That’s all.”

“Right. Let me frost it.” Emma turned and spooned the vanilla frosting into a new pipe bag. “To show my support.”

“Thank you. I knew you’d see things my way.” Abby went over to the sink and washed the flour off her hands and then began cleaning up.

“You know, Abby, once he eats this, there’s no turning back. If the spell works, he won’t be attracted to you whatsoever and won’t remember the last six weeks.” Emma paused before handing the cupcake over. “Is that really what you want?”

Abby nodded. “That’s what I want. It’s the only way. If he doesn’t like me, then we won’t be having sex, and that will free my evenings up to find the right guy to have sex with.” Abby tripped over her words. “Um . . . er . . . I mean to have a relationship with.”

“Well, make sure he doesn’t share it with anyone. I can’t have my bachelors falling out of love with my bachelorettes. It would be bad for business.”

“He’s not in love.” Taking the cupcake from Emma, she placed it in a single plastic container and lifted it up. “You are the key to my happily ever after.”

“That’s a lot to ask a sweet, little cupcake.”

“This coming from a woman who predicts true love in cake batter.”

“Good point,” Emma conceded and grabbed the cupcake from Abby’s hands. “Oh, I have some white chocolate strawberry slivers to top this off. Be right back.” She rushed out of the kitchen.

Abby continued cleaning up, making sure to rinse the unused batter down the garbage disposal. This was going to work. It would be like the last six weeks never happened, and that was fine by her.

Grabbing the spell book, she shut its pages and stuffed it back in her bag. Phase one of ‘Operation Stop Sleeping with Brandon Swift’ was complete.

B
randon reached
the top of the winding hill and slowed his pace, letting Jason catch up. “Someone might want to cut back on the Sugar Spoon’s muffins,” he called over his shoulder. Earlier, they had set off on a five-mile run that led them to the top of Buttermilk Ladder and a breathtaking view of the dark blue lake on what had to be one of the most beautiful fall days of the year.

“Whatever. Just letting you lead the way.” Jason jogged up to him, sweat pouring down his face.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Uncapping his water bottle, Brandon took a swig and handed it to his buddy. “So, when you headed out?”

“Tomorrow. Five a.m. flight.”

“Ouch.”

“Tell me about it.” Jason handed the bottle back to Brandon.

“How long are you in D.C.?”

“A week, but then I’m going down to Miami for a freelance assignment.” He paused and put his hands behind his back for a stretch. “That reminds me. My editor, Tina, might call you for a project they’ve got in the works.”

“What’s she need?”

“Not sure. Said she was working on a fun blog series to spotlight the bachelorettes of Buttermilk Falls.”

“And she needs me to help on a story about single babes.” Brandon chuckled. “My answer’s ‘yes.’” He walked over to the lookout area and peered down at the gorgeous trees full of vibrant autumn-colored leaves surrounding the crystal blue lake. “What a view. Does it really get any better than this?”

“It’s pretty awesome,” Jason agreed, leaning against a large, jagged rock. “Do you ever get homesick for Los Angeles?”

Brandon didn’t even have to think about his answer. “Not at all. I thought maybe I would at first miss the beach and the lifestyle, but I’m really digging this slower pace. The people here are nice.”

“And one resident in particular.”

Brandon came up beside Jason and patted his sweaty back. “You mean, your girlfriend? She’s quite nice,” he teased, suspecting his pal wasn’t talking about Emma.

“Her cousin was a bit flustered this morning when I gave her back her bracelet. What’s going on between you two?”

Brandon shrugged because that was one question he didn’t have an answer to. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Yeah, right. Horizontally maybe.”

Brandon smirked. Jason knew him all too well. They had been best friends since journalism school in Boston, and that friendship had only grown tighter with each year. While Jason had landed at the
Miami Herald
, Brandon had set his sights on Los Angeles. After a couple of years at smaller papers, he’d scored a sweet gig at the
Los Angeles Times
and had celebrated his fifth-year anniversary with the paper last January.

A year ago, his life was pretty near perfect. At least he thought so. He’d gotten married to his girlfriend, Suzanne, whom he’d met through a mutual friend. After dating for two years, they’d had a small beach-side wedding.

He’d had everything a man could want. Dream job. Dream wife. Dream life. All that changed when he came home early one night and found Suzanne in bed with their neighbor—a D-list actor on some soap opera.

Crushed, Brandon filed for divorce immediately. He officially swore off ever being in a relationship. Who needed that heartache?

That didn’t stop him from having his own fun with any beauty in a skirt once the ink dried on his divorce papers. The bachelor life suited him. Maybe Suzanne had done him a favor.

Deciding to move to Buttermilk Falls had been a total whim. He had grown tired of both the L.A. scene and the newspaper’s deadline-driven pace. He’d always wanted to try his hand at fiction writing and had more than enough money saved up to buy a place on the lake. If small town life wasn’t for him after a year or two, he could easily sell it or keep it as a vacation home and return to reporting full-time.

The initial plan had been to dive into writing the novel, but one night the owner of the Buttermilk Tavern, Mitch Miller, had bent his ear about needing help and offered him a bartending gig.

Brandon took Mitch up on his offer, mostly to get out of his cottage and meet the locals, but the truth was he was enjoying it. He loved talking to people and mixing drinks, something he’d learned to do bartending a few nights a week in graduate school.

He also loved the attention from the female patrons, including the hot redhead who was currently sharing his bed pretty much every night. “I really don’t know what’s going on between me and Abby. She tells me it’s over every morning, yet she still comes back . . .”

“And that doesn’t tell you anything?”

“That she’s as horny as I am?” He chuckled. “I really like her, but I’ve been upfront from the very beginning. After Suzanne, I’m not sure I want to be in a relationship ever again.”

“But you were going to propose to Caitlin?”

Jason was referring to the sexy brunette Brandon had gotten involved with over the summer and the reason he’d followed Jason to Buttermilk Falls in the first place.

“That was a mistake.” Brandon meant that statement. Caitlin Reynolds and her high school shenanigans weren’t for him. Lucky for him, after she made a fool of herself at the town’s Final Fling on Labor Day weekend, she hightailed it to Paris under the guise of taking a French culinary immersion course.

He knew better. He’d never seen Caitlin in the kitchen the entire time they were together and suspected she left town to save face. Still, it was nice not to be swept up in the tornado of drama that she easily spun.

Eventually she’d return, but hopefully she’d have a new target and leave him alone.

“So you don’t see any potential with Abby for something more serious?” Jason asked.

Brandon took a sip of his water. When did hanging out with his best friend become an episode of
The View
? “I don’t know.” He pulled himself off the rock. “I was thinking of asking her out on a date.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Jason stood and stretched his legs. “You two are perfect for each other.”

“You really think so? What about the guy that she was seeing last summer? Didn’t you tell me you double-dated once?”

“Carter Manning? I don’t think it was too serious—at least not according to Emma. He left to go back home to Indianapolis shortly after they started dating.”

That was a relief. Abby never mentioned him during the times they were together. Not that they did much talking, unless he counted his shouting her name and her moaning his. He grinned at
that
picture now running through his head. “You really think we’d be good together?”

“She’s beautiful and funny. Although, I don’t know how smart she is to want to spend her evenings with you.”

Brandon grinned, nodding. “I do like her company.”

Jason arched his eyebrow.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Although, that’s freakin’ awesome, too. I mean, with Caitlin and pretty much every woman after Suzanne, it was just sex. Abby’s different. I catch myself thinking about her when we’re not together, wondering how her day is going.”

“So ask her out. See what happens.” Jason chuckled. “And put a shirt on when you do it. A nice one and not one of those flannels you’ve been sporting lately.”

“What’s wrong with my flannels?” Brandon pulled himself off the rock and arched his back. “Race you to the bottom. Loser has to wash the other’s car for a month.”

“And vacuum the inside. You’re on.” Jason took off.

As Brandon flew past his friend, his thoughts were flying, too. He did like Abby. Yeah, he didn’t know much about her outside the bedroom, but he’d love to get to know her.

It
was
time to ask the pretty redhead out on an honest to goodness—out in public for all of Buttermilk Falls to see—date.

He’d do it tonight.

A
bby patted her hobo bag
—with the cupcake tucked safely inside—for luck and headed into the Buttermilk Tavern. If all went according to plan, Brandon would no longer be attracted to her by the time she left the bar.

After her shift at the Sugar Spoon, she’d hurried home to change into jeans, a cream-colored sweater, and her favorite black leather jacket. Brandon always told her she looked bad-ass right before he peeled it off her and tossed it on his bedroom floor. Tonight, the jacket would stay on.

She blew out a breath. Could she really go through with it? If it actually worked, not only would Brandon not be attracted to her, he wouldn’t even remember they’d been intimate over the last six weeks. Magical amnesia was part of the spell.

Abby stepped further inside the tavern and glanced around. The bar was rather empty for a Friday night. In the corner sat a familiar couple huddled together.

“Hi, Abby.” Lance, one of the town’s cutest firemen, gave her a short wave, and then put his arm back around Bree, a high school history teacher.

“Hey, you two.” Abby smiled at the pair. Emma had predicted the match a few weeks ago. By the way they were carrying on, it looked like things were going well. Good for them.

She slid onto an empty stool at the end of the bar, pulling her wavy hair to the side.

“Hey, Red,” Brandon called out from the other end, shaking a mixer with one hand.

“Hi.” She smiled. He always called her Red. She noticed he was looking particularly handsome tonight in jeans and a button-down black shirt. Had he shaved? She wasn’t quite sure what his L.A. attire had consisted of, but this fall she’d seen plenty plaid flannels on him. This new look was nice.

What would it be like to run her lips across a clean-shaven Brandon? “Stop, it,” she scolded herself.

Brandon came over, placing an empty martini glass in front of her. With a quick flick of his wrist, he poured a reddish-pink liquid into it. “Stop what?”

“Nothing.” She flashed him a smile, pointing to the glass. “What’s this?”

“I’m calling it Abby’s Potion.” He leaned in on his elbows.

“Original.” She laughed sarcastically and took a sip.

“I came up with it this afternoon. I think you’ll like the magic ingredient.”

She certainly did. The sweet liquid enticed her taste buds to keep drinking. “Strawberries.”

“Strawberries, vodka, and a few other fun ingredients. I can’t give away all my secrets.”

“Well, it’s delicious.” Abby took another sip. Though half the town had an allegiance to Mel’s blueberries and anything grilled, fried, or baked with the fruit, Abby had never met a strawberry she didn’t like. She’d even turned Brandon on to strawberry malt shakes at the Star Lite diner where they’d sometimes have lunch with Emma and Jason. “This is very good.”

“So about tonight. Mitch is going to close up for me. Since I get off in an hour, I was thinking maybe we could—”

“I brought something for you,” she interrupted and opened her bag. Pulling out the cupcake container, she set it on the counter. “I baked it just for you.”

“You made me a cupcake?”

“Yeah. I felt like experimenting, too. Um . . . I mean, I played with a new recipe this morning. I thought you’d like it.” She managed an indifferent shrug for full effect. “It’s no big deal.”

“Are you working on the menu for your catering business?”

That question took her by surprise. She’d mentioned the idea a time or two during their post-sex snuggles that never lasted very long before he rolled over and fell asleep. She didn’t think he paid attention to anything she had to say.

She pushed the cupcake toward him. “I don’t think this particular one will be on the menu.” No. This one was just for Brandon. “It’s chocolate with my homemade vanilla frosting that you love.”

He grabbed the plastic container and popped open the lid. “I do love your chocolate cupcakes. Want some?” He offered her the first bite.

“No.” Her hand flew up. “It’s all yours.” Abby stopped breathing as he pulled back the light blue foil and bit down.

“Wow.” His eyes rolled back before taking another bigger bite. “This is amazing.”

And just like that he was done.

“Glad you liked it.”

“That recipe is definitely a keeper.” He crinkled the foil and made a three-point shot for the waste paper basket. “I’d pay a thousand dollars for another.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, not taking her eyes off him.

“Well, thanks for letting me be your official tester.”

“Hey, bartender. Can I get a refill?” A guy Abby didn’t recognize waved Brandon over.

“Sure thing.” Brandon turned and headed to his customer, calling out behind him. “Drink’s on me, Abby. Thanks for the cupcake.”

“Thanks for the drink.” Abby sipped her delicious cocktail and watched as he chatted with a couple at the end of the bar. Had the spell worked? The book hadn’t actually said how long it would be before it took effect. She needed to stay and find out.

Enjoying Brandon’s concoction, she turned her attention to the flat screen on the wall.

“Hey, Abby.”

Abby twisted in her chair, recognizing the voice immediately. “Christine! Oh, my God.” Hopping off the stool, she hugged her old high school friend who had moved to Chicago to work for a financial firm last spring. “When did you get back in town?”

“On Friday. I’m only here for a couple of days to visit my folks.” Christine pulled out the stool next to Abby, her gaze sliding down the bar. “Who is
that
tall drink of water?”

Abby glanced in her direction. “Brandon?” She squared her shoulders. Of course her friend would find him attractive. All women did. “I mean . . . his name’s Brandon Swift. He moved to Buttermilk Falls this fall from Los Angeles.”

“Maybe I should consider moving back.” Christine smoothed her long brown hair. “Is he dating anyone yet?”

Abby offered a half smile. Her friend could try all she wanted, but Brandon definitely would not give her the time of day. Even if it had only been sex between Brandon and her, Abby had to believe she was more his type than a woman who found her kicks crunching numbers.

Brandon sauntered back over. “What can I get you?”

“What do you recommend?” Christine asked coyly.

“Brandon, this is my former classmate Christine Martin,” Abby interjected herself into the conversation.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He took Christine’s hand in his and held it a little longer than Abby thought he needed to. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“That’s because I’m visiting my parents. I live in Chicago but love visiting Buttermilk Falls this time of year with the leaves changing and all.”

“I have just the ‘welcome home’ cocktail for you, Christine.” He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of Bailey’s and something else Abby didn’t recognize. Shaking his mixer, he poured a creamy beige liquid into a martini glass.

Christine took a sip and smiled. “Pumpkin?”

“Hope this helps you enjoy the scenery.”

She took another sip and batted her lashes. “It’s already working.”

Abby watched the show going on next to her in silence. Taking in the fall foliage was the last thing on Christine’s mind right now . . . or Brandon’s. That much she was sure of. Brandon’s blatant flirting with another woman was a good sign. Although, Abby would have preferred he’d chosen to hit on someone besides her high school friend.

She pushed off her barstool, reaching for her bag on the floor. It was time to test the spell out. “I should get going. I have an early day tomorrow. Christine, it was so nice seeing you.”

“You too, Abby,” Christine chirped but didn’t take her eyes off Brandon.

“I’ll see you later?” Abby directed her question to Brandon, trying to get his attention.

“See you around, Abby.” He waved and then leaned in to continue his flirting.

“See you,” she mumbled and could tell neither Brandon nor Christine noticed she was still in the bar. That realization caused her throat to tighten. She needed fresh air.

Why was seeing him with another woman causing this unpleasant reaction? Wasn’t this what she wanted? Yes, but did he have to flirt in front of her?

Of course he did. He was being his typical Brandon self.

Unable to resist glancing behind her shoulder, she caught him touching Christine’s arm while she laughed at something he said.

Abby bit down on her lower lip. All signs indicated that the spell had worked. Brandon was no longer interested in her. She should be doing cartwheels across the bar’s floor, and she would if she could recover from the overwhelming feeling she’d just been punched in the gut.

B
randon selected
a window booth at the Star Lite diner, craving a BBB Burger. He’d worked up quite an appetite having spent much of the morning working on his deck expansion. It was a project he’d started last month, but for some reason couldn’t seem to finish.

He knew why. He was looking for any excuse to avoid getting words on paper and working on his cottage seemed like as good of an excuse as any. When he moved to Buttermilk Falls, he promised himself it was because he’d finally start the novel he’d been itching to write.

The problem: he hadn’t a clue what exactly he wanted to write about. He’d started and stopped more times than he could recall. Working a few evenings a week at the Buttermilk Tavern helped replenish his savings account while he waited for his muse to show up.

“Hey, handsome.”

He looked up and grinned at the town’s beloved waitress who gave him a toothy grin, her lips bright red. “Hey, Betty. How’s it going?”

“It’s another beautiful fall day in Buttermilk Falls. I can’t complain.”

That it was. The crisp October temperature was one of the many reasons he’d known he’d made the right choice to leave L.A. He had always loved the change of seasons growing up in Montana and was actually looking forward to the first snowfall hopefully later this year.

“What can I get you?” Betty pulled open her notepad and clicked her pen.

“I’ll take a BBB Burger?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He chuckled. “That’s probably not the response Mel would want you to give.”

“One BBB Burger coming up. I’ll bring you your usual with it.”

“Thanks.” He cocked his head, watching Betty scurry off.
His usual
. What did she mean by that? Sure he’d been in this place a number of times since he moved here, but he didn’t remember ordering the same thing. He liked to alternate between healthy choices and plain old artery-clogging burgers loaded with the works, depending on if he got a five-mile run in or not.

He scrolled through his phone while he waited for his meal and smiled down at the last text. It was from Christine saying how much fun she’d had last night and hoped to see him again soon.

He scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking back to the evening. It had been a good time. After his shift had ended, they had hung out on his dock and got to know each other over a six-pack, before moving to his bedroom.

She was cute—a bit on the boring side, and her job was a major yawn—but he thought they could have some fun together.

Then something strange happened. Even after some heavy making out, something had felt off . . . almost like he was doing something wrong, which was completely ridiculous since he’d been divorced for almost a year and hadn’t been seeing anyone since Caitlin. Not being able to shake the feeling that he was cheating, he asked Christine if she wouldn’t mind if he called it a night and drove her home.

A total first for him, and he’d spent the morning wondering why he hadn’t been able to seal the deal. Maybe he’d call her later in the week to get together and try again.

Betty came over and placed a large pink shake on the table. “One strawberry malt made with extra strawberries, just like you like it.”

Brandon glanced down at the thick, pink drink. Since when had he started drinking milkshakes? Maybe Betty was mistaking him for another customer. Not wanting to hurt the old woman’s feelings, he took a sip and nodded. “Yummy.”

“So, will we see you this Friday at Sugar and Spice Night?”

“Sugar and Spice Night?” Brandon raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s that? A cooking class?”

“Nope, but it does involve food. It’s similar to the Summer Fling auction that I’m sure Jason told you all about. Emma paid a pretty penny for him.”

Brandon chuckled because Betty was right. The pretty, blonde baker had bid five thousand dollars on his best friend. Man, he wished he could have been there to see that, but he’d already gone back to L.A. “So, you want to auction me off this time?”

“Not exactly. For this event, bachelors bid on a special date with a bachelorette.”

“Really?” He leaned back in the booth, liking the sound of that. “Do tell.”

“It’s a hoot seeing who gets paired.” She slid into the booth across from him. “Although, last year, Abby Stevens had a rather unfortunate date. We’re hoping she has better luck this year.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Emma’s spitfire cousin was probably a handful for any man. “So, how does it work?”

“It’s simple. You register a main course meal at the event and agree to make it that night for your date. That’s the spice portion. Then, you bid on the perfect dessert to go with your meal. The woman who made the dessert will be your date for the evening, but her name will only be revealed after you’ve won the bid. You cook for her and she brings—”

“The sugar,” he completed her sentence. “And the date is the same night?”

“Yes. We end right at 7 p.m. so couples can go off and have their dinner.” She wiggled a finger at him. “But the date ends at 10 p.m. sharp. Ernie patrols in his cop car, checking on all the couples making sure everything is going okay and each of our bachelors is on his best behavior.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ve been dying to try out my new grill.”

She raised a skinny eyebrow. “Can we put you down to participate? We like to get a head count of how many bachelors will be bidding.”

Brandon sat up. “This town sure is invested in the love lives of their residents.”