Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2)

Tart
The Fluffy Cupcake Book Two
Katie Mettner


Copyright 2020 Katie Mettner
All rights reserved for this book its content, including the cover art by Forward Authority Design. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.


Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books by Katie Mettner


Dedication
For the real Amber.
When I think about writing a funny best friend, you’re always the gal to pop into my head. Thanks for always making me laugh!


One
My name is Amber Phyllis Larson, and my dirty little secret is that I’m terrified of thunderstorms. Embarrassing for a woman of thirty to admit, but there it is in a nutshell. At three a.m. on a Wednesday morning in late May, it was dark, the skies were heavy with rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance over Lake Pendle. We shouldn’t have to deal with thunderstorms this early in the season in Minnesota, but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that.
I popped a pod of coffee into the machine and waited while it spit the rich, black coffee into my travel mug. Whoever said the early bird gets the worm had never worked in a bakery for almost ten years. I didn’t just work in a bakery for nearly ten years, though. I’d been the co-owner of The Fluffy Cupcake with my best friend, Haylee, for all ten of those bliss-filled years. She was recently married to Brady Pearson, her partner in crime at the baker’s bench and now in life. That left me, the only one of the dynamic duo to remain single, much to my mother’s chagrin. Unlike Haylee or my mother, I didn’t see being single at thirty as the end of the world.
I chuckled to myself when I snapped the lid on my travel mug and turned off the kitchen light. Last year, Haylee decided she had to be in a committed relationship before she turned thirty. She made that resolution on New Year’s Eve, which only gave her seven months and thirteen days to find Mr. Wonderful. Haylee was so focused on her goal that she was too obtuse to see that the perfect guy was already right in front of her face. So, I set her up with every guy I knew she wouldn’t be able to tolerate for more than an hour, much less forever. I’m happy to report my plan worked. If she ever found out I tortured her on purpose, she wouldn’t be amused, but sometimes, we need a little help to see what is directly in front of our face.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a deep breath before I opened the door to my apartment. With any luck, I’d make it to the bakery before it started to storm any harder. I hated driving in lightning and thunder. Childish, I know, but if you’d lived my life the last seventeen years, you’d understand. I stuffed my thin athletic frame inside the car and slammed the door. Haylee was always jealous of the fact that I could eat anything I wanted from the bakery case without gaining a pound. I was always jealous of the fact that she had curves. What she saw as a negative feature, I would kill to have. Women are funny that way, I guess.
I shut off the engine in front of the bakery as the first drop of rain hit the windshield of my Subaru. I grabbed my purse and mug, limped to the door, and made it under the awning as the skies opened up and the rain sluiced down. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the smell of fresh bread and cakes hit me straight in the face. The scent was always like coming home. I loved that I worked in a place that brought so many people joy day after day, but I loved the people I worked with even more.
“Hey, Amber!” Brady yelled from the back of the bakery. “Glad you beat the rain in.”
“Barely,” I said as the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. I darted away from the window and to the back of the bakery where I couldn’t see it. I never said I wasn’t a chicken. “Where’s Hay-Hay?” I asked, grabbing my apron off the hook after I put my purse in the office.
“In the cooler. We have cupcakes coming out of our ears and no place to put them.”
I pointed at him. “That’s why I came in early. I figured you guys were going to be scrambling to get the order ready for the school this morning.”
Brady laughed and went back to his bread kneading. “Scrambling is an understatement. I’m sure she would appreciate the help. I have to finish the standing bread and bun orders.”
Brady had become a master baker last summer and was now in charge of all the bread baking for The Fluffy Cupcake. Haylee was in charge of the pastries, cakes, and cupcakes, which meant with an order the size she had today, she was going to need help, or our bakery case would be empty this morning.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and I darted for the cooler, glad Brady had his back to me. Did I mention that I hate storms? I grabbed a jacket off the hook and slipped it on, then opened the cooler door and stepped in. I wasn’t upset to be in the cooler. It was our safe place for severe weather, and you couldn’t see the lightning inside.
“Hey, cupcake,” I said, gazing at the scene before me. “It looks