Sugared (Misfit Brides #4) Page 27

  And Josh wasn’t helping. Every time General Mom glared, he smirked.

  The two of them were destroying Kimmie’s happy place.

  Lindsey’s cake needed to be perfect. Kimmie tried to ignore the tension while she attached gum paste leaves to the fondant on the sides of the five layers of the round wedding cake.

  But her hand wobbled every time she caught Josh watching her, and it wobbled more every time General Mom walked in the door. Kimmie cracked three leaves and smudged the fondant on the base layer.

  Lindsey’s cake was not the masterpiece Kimmie needed it to be. And she didn’t have time to fix it—they were running short on cupcakes, and Kimmie had to finish another wedding cake before she could go to Lindsey’s wedding.

  She gritted her way through it, reminding herself there was no way she could have cakemageddon 2.0 on her hands—she’d kill Josh herself before she’d let him destroy a second wedding cake for her friends—and she did the best she could manage. When Josh’s phone rang shortly after two, she shooed him out and told him she’d meet him at her apartment soon to get dressed for the wedding.

  He apparently believed her, because he went.

  But General Mom marched into the bakery four minutes later. “Kimberly, a word.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to the office.

  Kimmie’s shoulders hunched. “Can it wait?”

  The Imperious Eyebrow of Cake Readiness Condition Four made an appearance.

  Kimmie wanted to smack it off her mother’s face. But she stifled a growl and marched into the office. “What?”

  “You will watch your tone with me, young lady. Why is Mr. Kincaid here?”

  “He’s renting a spaceship to transport us both to a honeymoon on Mars and he can’t do it from Chicago.”

  “Kimberly Anne Elias, I thought I made it clear you were to end your shenanigans with him.”

  General Mom had both fists clenched on her hips, and her frown could’ve fried an egg from across the room. She wouldn’t throw dishes or raise her voice or cause any real damage with her laser-beam eyeballs, but Kimmie felt a familiar pull drawing her shoulders into her body.

  Josh was right. Her mother was a bully. She’d gotten better since she started dating Arthur, but when it came to business, she was an egomaniacal, deranged bully.

  Who didn’t believe Kimmie could ever be anything more than a cupcake.

  Kimmie’s heart ping-ponged against her ribs. She tasted fear, but she tasted something new too—courage.

  What was the worst her mother could honestly do to her?

  “Kimberly?” General Mom prompted.

  “I have him exactly where I want him, and the bakery will be ours by Saturday.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Positive.” Because tomorrow, Kimmie would be giving General Mom Josh’s proposal. She’d ask Arthur for support—he deserved to enjoy Lindsey’s day first—and then the bakery would be theirs. Kimmie and Josh’s.

  “You aren’t honestly intending to marry the man.”

  It should’ve been a question.

  Except it shouldn’t have been an issue. It wouldn’t have been an issue if her mother were anyone else, if Josh were anyone else, or if Kimmie were anyone else. “What’s the worst that happens if I do? Divorce?” Kimmie shoved away from the desk and stepped out of the office. “I have a cake to finish.”

  “Kimberly—”

  Kimmie let the door shut on her mother.

  Rosita’s jaw hung. Paige’s eyes were wide. Everyone else avoided her gaze and scurried about, doing their work lest the Queen General of Bliss turn her wrath on them.

  “You all do really good work,” Kimmie said to the room at large. “I love you guys.” Something caught in her throat and threatened to choke her. Maybe her courage fleeing, or maybe her sentimental side. General Mom was the only family Kimmie had. And Kimmie didn’t want her anymore.

  Which left Kimmie with a lot of friends—several of whom had gotten married recently—and a fake fiancé who would fade into the background of her life soon enough, returning to being a business partner who checked in from time to time.

  She blinked back the sting in her eyes.

  Everybody liked her, but who was left to love her?

  She returned to her station, to someone else’s wedding cake, and concentrated on the fondant, on the sugar, on the food coloring, on her sculpting tools. She knew cake. She knew frosting.

  And she knew her life had to change.

  * * *

  Josh was in his suit at Kimmie’s apartment, ready for the wedding, but Kimmie wasn’t there, she wasn’t at Heaven’s Bakery, and she wasn’t answering her phone. He strode to the front door, his phone at his ear, waiting for her to pick up on her end.

  The door suddenly flung open, and Kimmie barreled past him. She executed a perfect leap over Boo, who somersaulted out of the kitchen in an epic battle with a cupcake liner.

  He caught her arm. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Twenty minutes.” She shook him off and dashed to her room, and when she shut the door, there was a definitive click behind her.

  Boo rolled to a stop in front of Josh and stared at him, unblinking, her half-ear twitching.

  The bedroom door swung open again. Kimmie darted out in a shiny, blue-green dress that hugged her breasts and tied around her neck. It stopped beneath her knees. Her toes were bare, and she was dancing into a pair of strappy, sparkly heels.

  Her hair was an untamed mass of dark blond curls, and her lips were a shade darker, but otherwise, she was all Kimmie.

  Dolled-up and beautiful.

  His cock twitched.

  But something bigger swelled in his chest.

  “We have eighteen minutes, and we have to get through security,” she said. “Move.”

  Josh reached for her again. “Wait.”

  “We have to go now or we’ll miss the wedding.” The dress or the lipstick or something made her eyes bigger, bluer, and brighter.

  He pulled a small box from his pocket. His hands wobbled, and his fingers were slick against the fuzzy surface. “Here. For your outfit.” He snapped it open and pulled out the diamond ring.

  Her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed uneven and stark against her pale skin. Her chin trembled, and when she lifted her gaze to his face, he took a sock to the gut at the questions in her deep sea blues.

  He swallowed. “Can’t have a fake fiancée going to a wedding without it.”

  She hesitated before she snatched the ring, jammed it on her finger, and stalked out.

  A brick settled in his stomach.

  He’d never considered giving a woman a ring before, and they both knew the engagement wasn’t real, even if the ring was. It shouldn’t mean anything that she hadn’t waited for him to put it on her finger, that she hadn’t squealed about the rock’s beauty, or that she was huffing around like—well, like an angry lover.

  But she’d been right to call him out. An engaged woman going to her friend’s wedding needed a ring of her own. Not wearing it while she was working was one thing. Missing a ring at such a public event?

  Not on Josh’s watch.

  And until Marilyn was out of the picture at the bakery, Josh would be here to make sure Kimmie was safe from her mother.

  Even if it hurt her feelings, or if he was an ass for giving her a ring that couldn’t mean what it should.

  He should’ve told her where the ring came from. What it meant to him. That he wanted her to keep it no matter what.

  But he didn’t know how without getting more attached than he already was.

  Kimmie wasn’t as bright as usual, but she still chattered about the wedding while she whipped her car around the side roads to a parking lot down the way from the small grassy area around the gargantuan cake monument, where a large crowd was already gathered.

  “I swear on a coconut cream puff, if you do anything to ruin this cake, I will pry your toenails off and serve them to you on a liver-flavored cupcake,” Kimm
ie said as they approached two massive men guarding the roped-off area around the cake.

  “You sure you want us to let him in, Miss Kimmie?” the larger of the two said.

  “Oh, yes. He’s my fiancé.”

  Josh was treated to a double-dose of bouncer glare. Neither of them cracked their knuckles or grunted, but their three-hundred-pound, six-foot-six frames spoke for them. “Appreciate your assistance in watching out for Kimmie, gentlemen,” Josh said.

  “I don’t like him,” the smaller one said.

  Kimmie flashed a pained smile. “He has that effect on people.”

  The hairs on Josh’s neck hadn’t been happy most of the afternoon, but they were humming an ominous tune now.

  There was something wrong with Kimmie.

  And he had a strong suspicion it was him.

  The bouncers stepped aside to let Kimmie pass, but they squeezed Josh as he followed her.

  “Lady bakes good cupcakes,” the bigger one said.

  “Make sure you deserve her,” the other one added.

  “You’re sweet, gentlemen, but if I can’t handle him, my mother can,” Kimmie said.

  Both men shuddered and backed away.

  Kimmie didn’t look at Josh. Instead, she charged up the walk, threading through the thick crowd of rich and famous musicians in expensive designer suits and dresses who were surrounded by more bodyguards. Josh should’ve fit right in. This was his crowd. The kind of crowd he hung with at every fundraiser and social event.

  But he felt as awkward and self-conscious as he’d always thought Kimmie was.

  Kimmie didn’t hesitate, offering smiles with her excuse mes to everyone equally until she stopped at a small knot of familiar women huddled by one of the smaller side cakes of the monument. Some he recognized from Kimmie’s game night, some from Suckers, and the ice cream lady—Dahlia, Kimmie’s secret partner whose wedding cake Josh had accidentally helped ruin—was there too.

  “Kimmie! The cake is gorgeous.”

  “Oh, I love your dress. Is that new?”

  “Did you see who’s here? Oh my god. I’m shaking. I’m hyperventilating. Do you think he’ll sing? Oh my god, do you think he’d dance with me? Is it bad form to ask for an autograph at a wedding? Kimmie! He’s going to eat your cake. I would die if I had to feed a man like him.”

  “Which one?”

  All the women except Kimmie erupted in giggles. Josh was getting whiplash keeping up with the conversations floating around him.

  “Wouldn’t it be fabulous if they all stayed to play in the Husband Games?”

  “Ohmigod, Nat would die.”

  “Is Billy playing?”

  “I don’t think so. But you and Mikey are, aren’t you, Dahlia?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve threatened no sex for a month if he doesn’t. Kimmie, is Josh playing?”

  “It’s what happily married couples do in Bliss,” Kimmie replied with too much enthusiasm.

  Her diamond sparkled in the afternoon light. Guilt and lies churned acid in Josh’s gut, and more suspicious eyeballs took aim at him.

  Someone poked Josh. “I swear to God, if you do anything to break this cake, I will kill you.”

  “That’s not very creative. I’d break into his house and shave his hair in his sleep.”

  “I’d Photoshop his head onto a compromising picture and ask Billy to get it to one of the big gossip blogs.”

  “I’d put shellfish in his curtain rods.”

  “Ooh, good one.”

  “I got the idea off the Internet.”

  Murmurs of approval went through the group.

  “Oh, stop,” Kimmie said. “This is the love of my life you’re talking about. He would never hurt me.”

  Josh hooked an arm around Kimmie’s waist and flashed one of his famous smiles at the women, despite the panic bubbling in his chest. “Kimmie’s cakes are safe with me.”

  They were anything but.

  An electric guitar suddenly split the air. More instruments joined in for a cool take on a bridal march. The chatter around them went quiet. A white limo pulled up to the curb. Billy Brenton and his tall, bald sidekick, Mikey, appeared in front of the splash pad under the central part of the cake monument. Billy and Lindsey’s edible wedding cake was near the other side cake of the monument, five grand round tiers with sunflowers between each layer and green leaves circling each layer of white. Cameras were everywhere—photo and video—and security lined the ropes separating the invited guests from the gawkers.

  Marilyn was across the way in a group of guests who outclassed her simply by breathing. Josh didn’t much keep up with country music, but he thought the dark-haired guy near her might’ve been Luke Bryan, with Tim McGraw next to them too. And that was undoubtedly Charlie Tucker—bassist for the country group Blue—standing with them.

  Mom had developed something of a crush on the dark-haired, tattooed country rocker band dude after going to a Blue concert last year, which meant she occasionally mentioned whenever People magazine or the latest celebrity gossip reported something on him.

  The gossips would have plenty to talk about after this wedding.

  The limo door opened, and a short, dark-haired boy leapt out in a black suit, a grin as big as his ring bearer pillow lighting his face. He marched up the way, followed by a gangly brunette girl too old to be a flower girl, but too young to be a bridesmaid.

  Natalie stepped out of the limo next in a red, knee-length dress and matching stilettos, then her father in a tux, and finally, the bride appeared. Lindsey took Arthur’s arm while Natalie fixed the bride’s train on her fitted white wedding dress.

  And then a brown and tan boxer mix lumbered out of the car, a bow tie on its collar. Lindsey scratched the dog’s ears, and the four of them—bride, father, sister, and dog—started up the walk toward the groom.

  Kimmie sighed beside him. A soft smile touched her lips, and her eyes took on a telltale shine.

  He shifted.

  She deserved this. The big wedding, the pretty dress, the adoration shining in her groom’s eyes. The security. The promise of a future. The love.

  The hell of it was, he had the wedding planned for her. To keep up appearances.

  But he needed to step out of her way so she could find a worthy man to walk down the aisle with her.

  His gut clenched.

  The morons here in Bliss didn’t see the way Kimmie sparkled. They took her for granted, the cake princess with the goofy dreams and the overbearing mother. They didn’t understand the big heart her oddities hid. Her strength. Her passion. Her everything.

  What to do about a girl who deserved love, when there was no man on earth good enough for her?

  The ceremony was short and sweet and ended with a movie-style kiss that had the crowd hooting and cheering, and the bride and groom smiling fairy-tale smiles at each other.

  Kimmie’s lips were smiling, but her eyes were haunted.

  And the cramp in Josh’s gut got tighter.

  The minister announced the new Mr. and Mrs. Will Truitt—Josh had forgotten Billy Brenton was a stage name—and the crowd erupted in cheers again.

  Music started—a full band was set up on a stage behind the monument—and Billy immediately twirled his new wife into their first dance. At some signal, other couples joined them. Kimmie said something about talking to the caterer and slipped away before Josh could answer, pulling an effective Kimmie disappearance.

  He craned his neck to watch her path, but he couldn’t even get a glimpse of her hair.

  Her friends scattered, but he’d had enough experience at classy fundraisers to easily slip into small talk with the people around him while he watched for Kimmie in the crowd, even though his heart wasn’t in it today.

  After forty-five minutes of searching for her, he found someone else instead.

  Her mother.

  They collided in the shadow of the center part of the wedding cake monument beside the makeshift dance floor. Marilyn turned the full power
of a fake smile-glare on him.

  Much as he hated the woman, he had to hand it to her. She knew how to make a fight appear to be a civil conversation.

  “Mr. Kincaid, name your price.”

  Josh tucked his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. Two could play the let’s politely eviscerate each other in public game.

  “Name your price to remove yourself from my business, or I’ll be forced to seek legal action regarding the use of Heaven’s Bakery recipes at the Sweet Dreams Snack Corporation.”

  “Ah, the lawyer threat. And next you’ll threaten to spread vicious rumors to damage my family’s reputation, and then you’ll mock the diamond in Kimmie’s ring. Let’s skip to the end, where I offer to remove myself from your business as soon as you remove yourself from Heaven’s Bakery.”

  Marilyn’s smile remained pleasant on her lips, but if the eyes were the windows to the soul, Marilyn’s was lingering in the fiery depths of hell. “I will never surrender my family’s bakery to you, Mr. Kincaid. Ever. For any reason.”

  “What if he loved me?” Kimmie said.

  Josh started. Marilyn jumped. Kimmie snuck between them.

  “What if he loved me?” Kimmie repeated, stronger.

  Sweat gathered under Josh’s collar, and his legs trembled. What if he loved me? She said it as though she believed he could.

  His arms quaked with the effort of holding still while his heart took off on a sprint.

  “What if he truly loved me, and he honestly wanted to marry me?” Kimmie pressed. “He’s a smart businessman. I’m an expert baker. What if we took Heaven’s Bakery into the next generation?”

  Marilyn snorted delicately. “Kimberly, dear—”

  “Don’t insult her,” Josh growled.

  “I’m insulting you, Mr. Kincaid.”

  “Stop,” Kimmie said.

  “He’s stringing you along to get his hands on our bakery, Kimberly.”

  “Is it ours?” Kimmie said. “Or is it yours?”

  “The point is that it is not his. He is not in love with you, and your allowing this farce of an engagement to go on is simply prolonging the pain for everyone. Most especially yourself.”

  Kimmie blinked at her mother. Her head swiveled, and she stared at Josh, those wide blue eyes wounded. Josh reached for her. He couldn’t say the L-word, but he also couldn’t bear to see her hurting. “Don’t listen to her, sugar.”