Tied with Me (With Me in Seattle, #6)(12)



I’ve been open for just over a year, and I couldn’t be happier with the success of the shop. Succulent Sweets has made a profit from the first month, which I know is rare.

I work my ass off for it.

I set out my ingredients for the different flavors of cakes and dig in immediately. It’s a Sunday, so I’m open only half the day, from nine to one, but I still have orders to fill for two birthday parties, a baptism and a baby shower.

Thank God cupcakes are all the rage these days.

After the cupcakes that will be sold in the shop are all baked for the day, I let them cool while I bake the special orders. Just as I’m about to begin decorating, Tess, my part-time employee, bounces into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she sings and smiles widely.

“You are very chipper for this early on a Sunday morning,” I respond with a smile. “And good morning.”

“I went out last night,” she announces as she ties her white apron around her trim waist. Tess is tall and thin, with thick blond, red and pink hair. She wears black-rimmed glasses that are almost as big as her face, but she insists they’re very cool.

And, I have to admit, she looks adorable in them.

She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and grabs some frosting out of the fridge, ready to help me finish up today’s baking.

“Who is he?” I ask.

“His name is Sean…” She scrunches up her face. “Sean something.”

“Geez, Tess.”

“Oh stop, I had a bit to drink. He’s tall and built, and he has his nipples pierced.”

“Ouch,” I reply with a laugh.

Tess laughs with me as she frosts the lemon cupcakes with lemon frosting.

“How was your night?” she asks.

“Fine. I just went to the gym.”

“Oh.” She sighs and looks at me like I’m an old maid.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I just wish you’d go out and have fun,” she replies and arranges the lemon cupcakes on a long plastic tray, ready for the glass case.

“I do go out and have fun,” I reply.

“Going to kitchen auctions is not having fun,” she responds sarcastically.

I send her the stink eye, and she visibly shrinks before holding her hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure the kitchen auctions are totally fun and full of really hot guys.”

“You’re a smart-ass.” I laugh and put the finishing touches on two dozen It’s A Girl treats for my client.

“You love me,” she replies and kisses my cheek before she bounces out to arrange the glass case out front.

“Okay,” I announce when she returns, “these special orders just need to be boxed up. Do you mind doing that while I run upstairs and shower? I’ll finish up with the daily special when I come back down.”


“No problem. Take your time. We’re ahead of schedule, boss lady.”

I shake my head and chuckle as I climb the stairs to my apartment, shedding clothing on the way.

Tess is young, only in her early twenties and still in college, but she’s a hard worker. She loves the shop, and I enjoy having her around. There’s never a dull moment when she’s working.

It doesn’t take me long to shower and dress in my uniform of black slacks and red T-shirt with a white apron, tie the red ribbon in my hair like a headband and brush on a bit of makeup.

When I return to the kitchen, we still have forty-five minutes until we open, so we spend that time frosting the daily special—white chocolate mocha—and preparing batter for the next morning.

At nine a.m., Tess unlocks the door and immediately a small crowd of guests pours in to order a treat and coffee.

When the crowd finally dies down at about twelve thirty, I have a moment to slip in the back and quickly eat a banana and string cheese before consolidating the cupcakes in the glass case and tidying up the seating area.

The bell over the door rings behind me as I’m tucking chairs under a table.

“It smells amazing in here.”

I’d know that voice anywhere.

It was in my head all night long.

I turn to find Matt and a slightly shorter, dark-haired man I’ve never seen before standing just inside the door. Matt has his hands in the pockets of his jeans and is smiling at me. The man with him has already crossed to the case, practically drooling over the cakes inside.

“Hi,” I murmur, smoothing my hands down my apron.

“How’s business today?” Matt asks as I walk behind the case, putting a good three feet between us.

“It’s been busy. It just started to slow down.”

“Montgomery has lost his manners,” Matt’s friend informs me with a smile. “I’m his partner, Asher.”

“Hi, I’m Nic Dalton.”

“I’ve driven by this place a hundred times and have always meant to come in.” Asher grins as he peruses the case. “What do you recommend?”

“The chocolate,” I reply, my gaze still stuck on Matt.

He’s remained quiet, hanging back, watching my every move.

It’s unnerving and yet comforting in a way I can’t explain.

He’s in a dark blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled, and it suddenly occurs to me that he’s wearing a holster at his waist with a handgun and a badge clipped to it.

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