The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (63 page)

I don’t need to be in Ian’s office right now to know Reese’s free hand is in his hair. “What do you mean the discussion you just had with Bryce? You saw him?”

I hear Ian’s voice in the background, saying something I can’t make out before I respond. “He got on the elevator with me when I was leaving your building.”

His breathing fills my ear. “Did he? And what did you two
discuss
?”

I can sense the irritation in his voice and suddenly feel like it’s being directed toward me. “What’s with the attitude? I didn’t ask him to get on the elevator with me.”

“No, but you picked out that fucking outfit you had on.”

I’m on my feet, rage coursing through my body as I begin pacing alongside my bed. “Are you serious right now? I don’t remember you complaining about my wardrobe when you had your dick in me. And how the hell was I supposed to know he was in your building? I thought Ian closed the account with him.”

“He did. Don’t fucking yell at me because you, once again, decided to wear something that could draw you undesirable attention. You could’ve stripped all your clothes off once you got in my office, or waited until I fucking got home to pull that stunt.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not my style.”

“No shit. What did he say to you?”

My free hand fists at my side as I burn a hole into my carpet with the strides I’m taking. “You know what, Reese? Don’t worry about it. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I fucking handled it like I said I would.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“No. And if you want to yell at somebody, yell at yourself.
You’re
the one who decided to work with that asshole after I told you months ago he creeped me out. Thanks a lot for thinking of me.”

“Dylan!”

I hang up my phone before tossing it onto the bed.
What in the actual fuck?
I actually do the right thing here and before I can even tell him what happened, he’s blaming me for it? How is this in any way my fault? I’m not the one who agreed to work with that prick. I wouldn’t care how
important
this account was or how much money was involved. I would never work with someone who made my fiancé uncomfortable. If anyone has the right to be angry in this situation, it’s me. Reese got paid, laid, and has the nerve to take this out on me?

No. Fuck that.

My phone rings on my bed but I ignore it, making my way downstairs. I have no desire to talk to him right now or anytime soon, for that matter. And I’m in desperate need of a cupcake. Nothing else will do right now.

I march through my kitchen with purpose, through the doorway and behind the counter. Brooke and Joey are sitting at my consultation table as I slide the panel on the display case open and reach for one of my chocolate mousse cupcakes with a ganache-filled center.

“What are you doing?” Joey asks, the sound of the chair scraping on the floor following his voice. “Dylan, no sweets.”

I straighten up and leer at him. “If you come between me and this cupcake right now, I will end you.” Removing the wrapper as quickly as I can, I shove the whole thing into my mouth as Joey rounds the counter, disapproval on his face. “I mhey have anonther,” I say through a mouthful, closing my eyes and moaning at the chocolaty goodness.
Fuck yes, cupcakes.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks, snatching the wrapper from my hand and tossing it into the trashcan. “Did you tell Reese?” I reach once again for the display case, but my hand is batted away by Joey before he blocks me with his massive frame. “No more until you talk to me. What happened?”

I open my mouth to give him the rundown of my phone call when the shop phone decides to ring at that exact moment. There’s no doubt in my mind it’s Reese, and I have no intention of answering. Leaning against the counter, I stare at the phone on the wall as Joey moves toward it.

“It’s Reese,” I say with a clipped voice after swallowing my mouthful.

Joey ignores me and grabs the phone, putting it up to his ear. He frowns at me before saying, “Dylan’s Sweet Tooth.” I tap my fingers against my arm, seeing his expression change to indicate I was correct in my assumption. “I’m not sure this is the best time to talk to her. She just inhaled a cupcake and is staring at me like she’s going to eat me next.”

I roll my eyes as Brooke comes to stand next to me. “What’s going on?” she asks softly, her eyes flicking between Joey and myself.

“Boys are idiots. If I were you, I’d go lesbian.”

She shrugs slightly. “I’ve dabbled. It’s not really my thing. If there isn’t at least one dick involved, I can’t get into it.”

I slide closer to her, my interest in Brooke’s sex life suddenly blanketing all my Reese concerns at the moment. “At least one dick? Have you done multiple?”

“Once. But they were bi and seemed to like dick more than me. I felt like a third wheel.”

“Someone actually liked dick more than you? I’m shocked,” I reply before laughing under my breath and seeing her eyes light up with mischief. Joey’s elevated voice grabs both of our attention.

“Listen here. I don’t have to do anything. Dylan clearly doesn’t want to talk to you right now and as her best friend, I back her up one hundred percent. Hoes before bros.” He leans his shoulder against the wall, bringing his free hand up to his hip. “And another thing, I think it’s really shitty that you and Ian agreed to work with that asshole. He’s clearly psychotic, given the fact he put his hands on Dylan when he knows you… what?” Joey looks over in my direction, his agitated expression softening. “Uh, she didn’t tell you that? Well, yeah, he… hello?” He brings the phone away from his ear briefly before returning it. “Helloooo?” Hanging it up, he spins and tilts his head to the side as he strokes his chin. “Funny thing. Reese apparently didn’t know about the elevator incident. Care to explain that to me before he comes barreling through the shop door and hauls you out of here over his shoulder?”

I take the elastic band off my wrist and secure my hair into a pony. “I was going to tell him until he opened his stupid mouth and blamed me for drawing undesirable attention with my outfit. Like wearing snow gear would’ve prevented that jerk-off from touching me. And for Christ’s sake, I had a coat on. It’s not like I was strutting around half-naked.” I run my hands down my face before stepping up to Joey and poking a finger at his chest. “I’m eating another cupcake. You can either join me or step into the back, but it’s happening.”

“Well I’m sure as hell going to eat one,” Brooke says behind me. “I’ve been practically eye-fucking them all morning.”

Joey’s eyes dart over my shoulder, dropping to the display case. He sighs before nodding sharply. “Right. This situation definitely calls for massive sugar consumption.” He drops his eyes down to look at me. “But fair warning, I will be pushing you during our run tomorrow to make up for this moment of weakness. And no faking shin splints like today. I was so onto you.”

I smile up at him sheepishly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Brooke hands us both a cupcake, taking one for herself before sliding the panel closed. She gestures toward the clock on the wall with her free hand. “Wanna take bets as to what time Reese arrives? I’d put money on 2:37 p.m..”

Joey shoves half the cupcake into his mouth before responding. “No way. He’ll be here within the next few minutes. I’m saying 2:26 p.m.. What do you think?” he asks, nudging against me.

I take a bite out of my cupcake, glancing up at the clock. “Knowing Reese, he’s going to hunt down Bryce before he deals with me. And I’d give him an hour for kill time and dumping the body.” I swallow my bite, hearing Joey and Brooke’s muted laughs next to me. “I’m going to say 3:32 p.m..”

The shop door dings open, causing us all to spin around quickly. I’m sure we’re all anticipating Reese to walk through the doorway, but Mr. and Mrs. Crisp step inside the bakery wearing their brightest smiles and carrying a large, elegantly-wrapped present.

“Happy anniversary,” I direct at them, setting my half-eaten cupcake on the counter. I glance over at Brooke who is finishing hers. “Can you grab their cake for me? It’s the German chocolate one.”

She gives me a thumbs-up, chewing animatedly before she walks into the back. Mr. Crisp places the gift he’s carrying next to my cupcake, sliding it closer to me as his wife flanks his side. “And happy wedding week to our favorite baker. This is for you, dear,” she says as she straightens out the white and gold ribbon on the top.

“For me? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Oh, it’s nothing much. Just something small off your registry,” Mrs. Crisp says with a smile. “Don’t open it until we leave, though.”

Joey brushes his hands off before sliding the gift down the counter so it’s in front of him. “What a wrapping job. I can never get my corners straight.”

“You can’t get anything straight,” I counter through a teasing smile. He arches his brow playfully at me.

Brooke comes walking from the back, carrying the anniversary cake I made. She hands it off to me and I hold it over the counter, letting my two favorite customers examine it. Mrs. Crisp gasps softly, putting her hand up to her chest. “Oh, my. Dylan, this is so lovely,” she says, lifting her eyes to me. “Thank you so much.”

“German chocolate. My favorite.” Mr. Crisp grabs the cake and licks his lips. “I might just dive into this on the way home.”

“There’s extra coconut in the frosting just for you,” I direct toward him. His eyes enlarge as his grin spreads across his face. “And thank you for the gift. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Mrs. Crisp waves me off with her hand, her other tucking into the crook of her husband’s elbow. “We’re so happy for you, dear, and we hate that we can’t make it. Make sure you bring in lots of pictures when you get them developed.” She waves goodbye, Mr. Crisp winking at me before they slip out of the shop.

Joey slides the gift back over in front of me. “Go on. You know you want to.”

I look at him, then at the gift and decide that yes, I definitely want to. After tearing the paper and handing it off to Brooke who deposits it into the trashcan, I pop open the top of the box. Joey helps me shift the tissue paper around until I feel the smooth edge of something. I grab it with both hands and lift it out, smiling so big my cheeks begin to ache.

I place the hot-pink, brand new, industrial-size mixer on the counter. “Oh, wow. This wasn’t on my registry.”

“No, but you definitely needed this. I always said you should have more than one mixer,” Joey says, running his finger along the top of the handle.

“And it’s pink. I love that,” Brooke adds. “Every girl needs a pink mixer.”

I nod in agreement, lifting it off the counter and carrying it into the back. I slide it onto my shelf next to my beaten-down, ten-year-old mixer I still love as much as the first day I got it. Of course, it pales in comparison to this brand new one, but it will always be special to me.

Brooke comes walking into the back and steps up next to me. “Would it be okay if I watched you bake sometime? I’m really interested in learning how you whip up these incredible creations. That cupcake I just ate was insane.”

I grin boastfully at the compliment. “Sure. If you want, I could use some help tomorrow when I start the two wedding cakes. Joey can manage up front without you if you want to give me a hand.”

She places her hand on my arm, her face falling in surprise. “You’d let me help make
your
wedding cake? What if I mess it up?”

“Are you planning on messing it up?” I ask.

“No. But I can be a bit clumsy.”

I grip onto both her shoulders, gaining her full attention. “I’ll let you help out on the
other
wedding cake. How’s that sound?” She laughs, giving me half a smile. “Come on, let’s go finish those insane cupcakes.”

We did just that, Joey grabbing two more and polishing off the rest of the chocolate mousse ones. My eyes kept darting between the clock on the wall and the front door, especially when the bell would alert us of someone walking in. But Reese never came. He never stormed into the shop. He never hauled me over his shoulder in typical Reese fashion. He didn’t even call the shop number again. By the time 6:00 p.m. rolled around, I was no longer agitated with my quick-tempered fiancé or fuming over what happened with Bryce. After saying goodbye to Joey and Brooke, I took to the stairs with an emotion I didn’t plan on feeling the week of my wedding.

Disappointment.

After kicking off my shoes, I plop down on the bed and grab my cell phone I had discarded hours ago. Seventeen missed calls from Reese, all stopping around the time he called the shop phone. I scroll through his text messages, noting the time on them, as well. His last one to me was at 2:13 p.m. and it wasn’t the usual sweet and dirty text messages I’m used to receiving from him. I roll over onto my back, holding my phone out above me as I re-read it.

Reese:
Ignoring my phone calls is really mature.

Yeah, well… okay, fine. It wasn’t my most mature moment. But him jumping down my throat about an outfit he thoroughly enjoyed was a bullshit move, especially after he got his rocks off on it. I get that this situation is irritating and making us both homicidal, but I was not at fault here. And right now, I’d really like hearing that from someone other than my inner self.