Allen Jameson had it all—the perfect house, the perfect partner, the perfect life—until his partner, Gary, died suddenly, leaving him alone in the real world, where life isn't so pretty and people make mistakes. Now Allen is the owner of Sweet ‘n’ Sassy Cupcake Shop, a cute boutique downtown, where he invents delicious flavors like strawberry and French meringue. Between working long hours and making special orders, Allen barely has time to think.
Then a hunky contractor walks into his shop looking for a treat. Allen and Byron Bannigan are total opposites, but they're perfect together—salty and sweet like Allen’s signature peanut butter and chocolate ganache cupcakes. But as Allen struggles to juggle his business and his boyfriend, he learns he can only handle so much. He may have to choose between the cupcakes in his store and the cupcake in his bed.
PEANUT BUTTER with chocolate ganache.
Carrot cake with cream cheese icing.
Mexican chocolate with cinnamon frosting.
Fresh strawberry with French meringue.
Allen put out the day’s cupcakes and started the cappuccino maker.
READ MOREHe checked the clock. Six fifty-five. Time to open. He made sure the day’s muffins were out on top of the four-foot counter, then turned the sign on Sweet ’n’ Sassy’s door to “open.” Time for work!
The first customers started coming in immediately—Steve and Daniel, Rick, Lowell, and Ron. Heidi and Leeane. He loved his regulars and they loved him, coming into the tiniest cupcake bakery in the whole world for a muffin, a cup of joe, a quick hug, and a smile. Some people might stay long enough for a small conversation, but with only two tables, most of his customers took their sweets to go.
By the time it was nine twenty, he was out of muffins; time to head to the back to start the cupcakes for the afternoon orders. Lord.
The bell over the door jangled just as he got there, and he returned to the front to find the most stunning man he’d ever seen standing at his counter. Big, buff, and with the prettiest hazel eyes. The jeans and tight T-shirt only served to accentuate the man’s muscles.
“Good morning.” You hot thing. “How can I help you?”
“I need fancy food for my secretary. She’s pregnant and it’s her last day, and I’m supposed to do something.” The man sounded harried.
“Okay. I don’t do savory things, really, but I can make cupcakes. Do you know what kind and how many and when?”
“Cupcakes. That sounds good.” The guy nodded and then scratched the back of his head. “Today’s her last day, so I have to have ’em for three. We’re doing a little party.”
“How many?” Three o’clock. Damn. Okay. Maybe.
“Uh… two dozen? Is that possible?”
Oh. Oh, that was totally doable. “Yes. Yes, I can. Does she know if she’s having a boy or a girl?”
“God no, she’s gone on and on about ruining the surprise.” The guy chuckled. “These need to be really good cupcakes, so she remembers to come back to work.”
“I can do a dozen pink strawberry and a dozen polenta cupcakes with a blueberry frosting.”
“As long as a lady would think they’re pretty, it sounds great.” The man had an amazing smile, eyes crinkling up, teeth white in his tanned face.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll have them ready at 2:00 p.m. It’ll be a twenty-dollar deposit, please.” God. Okay. He’d be here late this afternoon making that birthday order for Mark and Wade, but it was a nice little bonus order.
“Oh, you rock. Seriously, you’re a lifesaver.” The guy pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty.
“Thanks for stopping in. I’ll have your order ready at two.” Busy was good, right?
“Cool. Do I get a slip or anything?”
“Absolutely. Give me two shakes.” Lord, the man was making him stupid. He really needed to focus. “What’s the name on the ticket?”
“B. Banigan.”
“B. Banigan. I got it.” He wrote the receipt, then handed over a copy.
B’s fingers slid against his as he took the paper. “Cool. I’ll be back at two.”
“I’ll be here.” Allen’s fingers tingled, and he actually felt his belly get tight. God, he missed the days when Gary had connected with him like that. So bad.
B’s smile was warm and made the tight feeling stronger. “Me too.”
Then the man was heading for the door, offering a very fine view.
Allen rolled his eyes at himself. Christ, he was a giant dork. Seriously. He wasn’t in a place to even admire. Hell, he was finally in a spot where fantasizing didn’t make him cry. Still, if he was going to fantasize, Mr. B. Banigan was a good place to start.
Allen sighed, shrugged. Whatever. It was time to get to work, right? Make cupcakes, make joy for people.
He pushed B out of his mind and began.
COLLAPSE