Free Tasty by Bella Cruise Page A

takes a
deep breath, regaining his composure and smug attitude as he buckles
his belt. “How do you feel about a rain check?”
    “Goddamnit,
Cal.”
    “You can visit
my store anytime,” he says, smirking. “But next time,
leave the granny get-up at home.”
    And
just like that, he pulls his body away from mine, brushes himself
off, and stalks off down the alleyway, slamming the door behind him.
    I’m
still shaking after he leaves. It takes me a minute to catch my
breath and straighten the wig back on my head. Part of me hates the
fact that I let him get under my skin like that. Another part of
me—the physical part of me—knows how much I loved it.
    “Jules,
what are you doing back here?” I look up. There’s Ginny,
wig slightly askew. I fake a cool smile.
    “Hey
Gin, how ya doing?”
    “Okay.”
She frowns slightly, suspicious. “I saw Cal follow you. Is
everything okay? Did you get the intel you needed?”
    Ahem.
I didn’t quite get everything I needed. Goddamn that irresistible, infuriating Scotsman. “Oh
yeah,” I tell her. “I really grilled him for
information.”
    More
like grinded him for pleasure, but it’s not exactly a lie,
right? Ginny smiles.
    “Great.
We can go back to your shop and exact our revenge.”
    A
light bulb goes off. Revenge. Well, if Cal’s going to handle me
like that, I can handle him roughly, too. But I’m going to hit
him where it hurts.
    No,
not his balls.
    The
shop.
    “Follow
me, Ginny,” I say, and stalk down the alleyway. She follows
dutifully while I approach the flustered flour delivery girl, who is
looking apprehensive about going up to Cal with her clipboard.
    “Hello,
dahling,” I say, offering her my hand. The girl shakes it,
looking confused. “I’m Angelique Sutton, Cal McKenzie’s
business manager. Cal’s just changed his mind about the
delivery. We have a big promotion coming up. We’ll need 1,000
pounds of flour, not 100.”
    “Are
you . . . sure?” she asks uncertainly. I
can see her skepticism, but also her relief at not having to talk to
the Cake Nazi himself. I mean the Cake Master. I give my head a firm
nod, feeling the wig bob on top of it.
    “Positive.
You don’t want to feel his wrath, dahling. Surely.”
    “Okay,”
the girl says. She offers me a clipboard. “You’ll need to
sign for it, though.”
    “Of
course, dahling. Of course.”
    I
grab the pen and sign Juliette at the bottom of the page, then surround my name with hearts and
stars. And the most tactful drawing of a huge middle finger flipping
the bird. The girl takes it without looking and disappears into her
truck. I watch her surface with the first of dozens of bags of flour.
    “You
want me to be serious, Cal McKenzie?” I mutter under my breath.
“Okay. Let’s get serious.”

 

Chapter Nine
     
    Over
the next few days, I have fun imagining the chaos that’s
descended upon Cal McKenzie’s store. Even with the huge
kitchen, I bet the massive flour delivery is causing storage
problems. I fantasize about Angelique trying to balance Cal’s
books for him, and coming up in the red. Okay, maybe it’s a
little petty, but business is still slower than molasses at Rock N
Roll Cakes. I need something to think about.
    I
can’t wait until the pop-up shop is closed. When Cal leaves the
Keys, Rock N Roll Cakes can finally return to business as usual and
I’ll stop having to change my panties twice a day. Assuming
there’s any business left. And assuming I don’t run out
of panties. But until then, there’s not much for me to do. I
start closing the shop early. Then I start opening late.
    One
Tuesday, I show up around noon only to find a man in a suit standing
outside. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him—until
he flashes me his health department badge.
    “Mr.
Reynolds,” I say, as his name clicks into place. He inspected
the shop only four months ago. We passed with flying colors, of
course. “What are you doing here? Did you want to