Taste of Romance (12 page)

“They could already be boarding,” Rachel warned. “Andi, how are you doing with that
foot?”

“It hurts, but I can hobble,” Andi said, limping behind them through the airport entrance.

Kim got in line at the ticket counter, murmuring, “Faith can move mountains. Faith
can move mountains. Faith can move mountains.”

Right now she’d be happy if it just moved this line in front of her. What if she couldn’t
get her ticket in time? How long before the next flight? Would she have to fly alone?

She’d tried to call Nathaniel on his cell phone several times but got no answer. On
her fourth try, his brother picked up and said Nathaniel had left the phone with him.

“Inconceivable!” Rachel exclaimed. “Who can travel without a phone?”

“Someone who isn’t expecting any calls,” Andi said and shuffled forward as the people
in front of them finally parted.

“I need a ticket to Göteborg, Sweden, with a stopover flight in Amsterdam, leaving
at three o’clock,” Kim said, leaning over the counter. “Can you tell me if passenger
Nathaniel Sjölander has checked in for that flight?”

“Yes, he’s checked in,” the ticket lady confirmed after checking.

Rachel gasped. “Kim’s going to need clothes, toiletries, and makeup.”

Andi agreed. “You go that way, and I’ll go the other, and we’ll all meet up at the
security gate.”

Kim counted the seconds as Rachel and Andi split up in search of supplies from the
airport shops lining the corridor.

“I don’t believe we have any seats left,” the ticket agent said, searching the computer
screen in front of her. “Wait. Here’s one. Do you have any luggage?”

“No,” Kim said.

The woman leaned her head around the counter to look at her. “No carry-on bag?”

“Please,” Kim said, handing the agent her passport and wishing the woman would hurry.
“Just the ticket.”

“I’ll call ahead and tell them to hold the plane,” the woman told her. “But if you
don’t hurry, they’ll close the door.”

Kim ran toward the security gate, ticket in hand with only thirty minutes to go . . .
and skidded to a stop in front of Nathaniel, who was on his way back out.

He gave her an incredulous look. “Kimberly, what are you doing here?”

Kim longed to fling herself into his arms, gaze into his eyes, kiss him, and tell
him how just standing beside him made her heart skip right off the charts. But there
would be plenty of time for that later, once they were in Sweden and the clock was
no longer an issue.

For now, she simply held up her ticket. “I decided I couldn’t stay and let you leave
me behind.”

His blue eyes sparkled, and his mouth curved into a wide grin. “I decided I couldn’t
go if you weren’t coming with me.”

Kim gasped. “Really?”

“Really.” Nathaniel drew her close and kissed her lips, his breath warm against her
cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes were lit with mischief. “Ready for a taste of
adventure?”

Kim felt as if her happiness would explode inside her if she didn’t smile and let
at least some of it out. “Actually, I think I’m ready for a taste of romance.”

“I think I can remedy that,” he assured her.

With a clap of running feet, Andi and Rachel both ran toward them from opposite directions.

Andi reached her first. “Here’s a backpack, an Oregon Ducks sweatshirt—because Sweden
is cold—a travel toothbrush, and a candy bag of red Swedish fish.”

“I bought you perfume, lipstick, a CD player, and a
Rosetta Stone
translator program,” Rachel told her. “You can learn the language on the plane.”

Nathaniel laughed. “We do speak English.”

Kim gave both her sister and Rachel a big hug. “Take care of Creative Cupcakes until
I get back,” she told them.

“We’ll keep up with our notes in the Cupcake Diary via email,” Andi promised. “But
remember you’ll have to come back for my wedding in September.”

Rachel nodded. “And mine at Christmas.”

“No need to worry,” Nathaniel told them. “I only planned to stay in Sweden a month.”

“A month?” Kim asked. “You said if your mother had her way, you’d stay there forever.”

Nathaniel grinned. “If my mother had her way,
ja.
But I make my own decisions, and my home is now in Astoria. Still want to come with
me?”

“Yes,” Kim said, and taking his hand, she started to move through the security line
toward the fulfillment of her dreams.

“Wait! I almost forgot!” Running up to the gate, Andi gave her one last item—the one
thing that meant as much to her as her passport.

A paintbrush
.

Recipe for

COCONUT MACAROON CUPCAKES

From Patty Emmert of Port Orchard, Washington

• 3 cups coconut
  
• 2/3 cup sugar
  
• 1 egg white
  
• 6 Tbsp. cake flour
  
• ½ tsp. baking powder
  
• ½ tsp. almond extract
  
• 1 egg white
  
• Candied cherries
  

Combine coconut, 1/3 cup sugar, and 1 egg white in a double boiler. Cook over boiling
water until hot, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat.

Sift flour and baking powder together. Add to coconut mixture.

Add almond extract. Mix well.

Beat the other egg white in a separate bowl until foamy. Add remaining sugar gradually,
2 teaspoons at a time. Continue beating until the mixture will stand in soft peaks.
Fold into the coconut mixture.

Place paper liners into 8 muffin pans and fill with batter. Top with cherries.

Bake in a slow oven (325°) for about 25 minutes.

Makes 8.

Keep reading for excerpts from the first two books in
The Cupcake Diaries
series,

SWEET ON YOU

and

RECIPE FOR LOVE

now available from Avon Impulse.

An Excerpt from

THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: SWEET ON YOU

Forget love . . . I’d rather fall in chocolate!

—Author unknown

A
NDI CAST A
glance over the rowdy karaoke crowd to the man sitting at the front table with the
clear plastic bakery box in his possession.

“What am I supposed to say?” she whispered, looking back at her sister, Kim, and their
friend Rachel as the three of them huddled together. “Can I have your cupcake? He’ll
think I’m a lunatic.”

“Say ‘please,’ and tell him about our tradition,” Kim suggested.

“Offer him money.” Rachel dug through her dilapidated Gucci knockoff purse and withdrew
a ten-dollar bill. “And let him know we’re celebrating your sister’s birthday.”

“You did promise me a cupcake for my birthday,” Kim said with an impish grin. “Besides,
the guy doesn’t look like he plans to eat it. He hasn’t even glanced at the cupcake
since the old woman came in and delivered the box.”

Andi tucked a loose strand of her dark blond hair behind her ear and drew in a deep
breath. She wasn’t used to taking food from anyone. Usually she was on the other end—giving
it away. Her fault. She didn’t plan ahead.

Why couldn’t any of the businesses here be open twenty-four hours like in Portland?
Out of the two dozen eclectic cafes and restaurants along the Astoria waterfront promising
to satisfy customers’ palates, shouldn’t at least one cater to late-night customers
like herself? No, they all shut down at 10:30, some earlier, as if they knew she was
coming. That’s what she got for living in a small town. Anticipation but no cake.

However, she was determined not to let her younger sister down. She’d promised Kim
a cupcake for her twenty-sixth birthday, and she’d try her best to procure one, even
if it meant making a fool of herself.

Andi shot her ever-popular friend Rachel a wry look. “You know you’re better at this
than I am.”

Rachel grinned. “You’re going to have to start interacting with the opposite sex again
sometime.”

Maybe. But not on the personal level, Rachel’s tone suggested. Andi’s divorce the
previous year had left behind a bitter aftertaste no amount of sweet talk could dissolve.

Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “Tonight, all I want is the cupcake.”

A
NDI HAD TAKEN
only a few steps when the man with the bakery box turned his head and smiled.

He probably thought she was coming over, hoping to find a date. Why shouldn’t he?
The Captain’s Port was filled with people looking for a connection, if not for a lifetime,
then at least for the hour or so they shared within the friendly confines of the restaurant’s
casual, communal atmosphere.

She hesitated midstep before continuing forward. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Dressed
in jeans and a navy blue tie and sport jacket, he was even better looking than she’d
first thought. Thirtyish. Light brown hair, fair skin with an evening shadow along
his jaw, and the most amazing gold-flecked, chocolate brown eyes she’d ever seen.
Oh my
. He could have his pick of any woman in the place. Any woman in Astoria, Oregon.

“Hi,” he said.

Andi swallowed the nervous tension gathering at the back of her throat and managed
a smile in return. “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s my sister’s birthday, and
I promised her a cupcake.” She nodded toward the see-through box and waved the ten-dollar
bill. “Is there any chance I can persuade you to sell the one you have here?”

His brows shot up. “You want my cupcake?”

“I meant to bake a batch this afternoon,” she gushed, her words tumbling over themselves,
“but I ended up packing spring break lunches for the needy kids in the school district.
Have you heard of the Kids’ Coalition backpack program?”

He nodded. “Yes, I think the
Astoria Sun
featured the free lunch backpack program on the community page a few weeks ago.”

“I’m a volunteer,” she explained. “And after I finished, I tried to buy a cupcake
but didn’t get to the store in time. I’ve never let my sister down before, and I feel
awful.”

The new addition to her list of top ten dream-worthy males leaned back in his chair
and pressed his lips together, as if considering her request, then shook his head.
“I’d love to help you, but—”

“Please.”
Andi gasped, appalled she’d stooped to begging. She straightened her shoulders and
lifted her chin. “I understand if you can’t, it’s just that my sister, Kim, my friend
Rachel, and I have a tradition.”

“What kind of tradition?”

Andi pointed to their table, and Kim and Rachel smiled and waved. “Our birthdays are
spaced four months apart, so we split a celebration cupcake three ways and set new
goals for ourselves from one person’s birthday to the next. It’s easier than trying
to set goals for an entire year.”

“I don’t suppose you could set your goals without the cupcake?” he asked, his eyes
sparkling with amusement.

Andi smiled. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“If the cupcake were mine to give, it would be yours. But this particular cupcake
was delivered for a research project I have at work.”

“Wish I had your job.” Andi dropped into the chair he pulled out for her and placed
her hands flat on the table. “What if I told you it’s been a really tough day, tough
week, tough year?”

He pushed his empty coffee cup aside, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
“I’d say I could argue the same.”

“But did you spend the last three hours running all over town looking for a cupcake?”
she challenged, playfully mimicking Rachel’s flirtatious, sing-song tone. “The Pig
’n Pancake was closed, along with the supermarket, and the cafe down the street said
they don’t even sell them anymore. And then . . . I met you.”

He covered her left hand with his own, and although the unexpected contact made her
jump, she ignored the impulse to pull her fingers away. His gesture seemed more an
act of compassion than anything else, and, frankly, she liked the feel of his firm
yet gentle touch.

“What if I told you,” he said, leaning forward, “that I’ve traveled five hundred and
seventy miles and waited sixty-three days to taste this one cupcake?”

Andi leaned toward him as well. “I’d say that’s ridiculous. There’s no cupcake in
Astoria worth all that trouble.”

“What if this particular cupcake isn’t from Astoria?”

“No?” She took another look at the box but didn’t see a label. “Where’s it from?”

“Hollande’s French Pastry Parlor outside of Portland.”

“What if I told you I would send you a dozen Hollande’s cupcakes tomorrow?”

“What if I told
you
,” he said, and stopped to release a deep, throaty chuckle, “this is the last morsel
of food I have to eat before I starve to death today?”

Andi laughed. “I’d say that’s a good way to go. Or I could invite you to my place
and cook you dinner.”

Her heart stopped, stunned by her own words, then rebooted a moment later when their
gazes locked, and he smiled at her.

“You can have the cupcake on one condition.”

“Which is?”

Giving her a wink, he slid the bakery box toward her. Then he leaned his head in close
and whispered in her ear.

An Excerpt from

THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: RECIPE FOR LOVE

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

—Ernestine Ulmer

R
ACHEL PUSHED THROUGH
the double doors of the kitchen, took one look at the masked man at the counter,
and dropped the freshly baked tray of cupcakes on the floor.

Did he plan to rob Creative Cupcakes, demand she hand over the money from the cash
register? Her eyes darted around the frilly pink-and-white shop. The loud clang of
the metal bakery pan hitting the tile had caused several customers sitting at the
tables to glance in her direction. Would the masked man threaten the other people
as well? How could she protect them?

She stepped over the white-frosted chocolate mess by her feet, tried to judge the
distance to the telephone on the wall, and turned her attention back to the masked
man before her. Maybe he wasn’t a robber but someone dressed for a costume party or
play. The man with the black masquerade mask covering the upper half of his face also
wore a black cape.