CHAPTER 9

BAKING DISASTER

Charlie

If this batch of lemon muffins didn’t turn out like I wanted them to, I was going to throw them across the room. I actually had half a mind to dig all of the other batches that tasted more like a Lemon Warhead then a delicious, sweet lemon muffin that I had made about a bazillion times and throwing them at something as well.

Preferably Brandon’s face.

I tossed and turned all dang night as I thought about how big of an asshole he was. When he insinuated to David that he had spent the evening in my bakery the night before, I could have killed him. It didn’t matter that he actually had been here. It only mattered that he made it sound like he was here sampling my sweets instead of actually helping me bake.

David probably thought I was a whore.

I wouldn’t blame him. I would think the same thing too. Especially if the girl I had just taken out was spending any time whatsoever with that, that, ugh… I didn’t even know what to call him.

Bad news.

Plain and simple.

He knew it too. I wanted to smack that cocky smirk right off his face as he spewed his crap to David. He thought he was clever, funny even, but he wasn’t.

He was just a manwhore who needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

Several actually.

The timer dinged and pulled me out of my own head. I pulled my oven mitts on far rougher than necessary, and I practically growled when I opened the oven and looked at my poor, deflated muffins.

I took them out of the oven and tossed the pan down on the counter which only caused them to sag more.

“Whoa now.” I didn’t even look away from those muffins that were ruining my entire day as I heard my mom’s voice.

“Slowly back away from the muffin pan.” I didn’t move. “I’m serious. Put your hands in the air and slowly back away and no one gets hurt.”

A smile tugged on my lips despite my mood.

I turned to face my mom and she stood on the tips of her toes to look over my shoulder at the disaster that sat behind me.

“What did those muffins ever do to you?” She cocked an eyebrow to me.

“You should see the ones in the trashcan.” I threw my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the trashcan that was overflowing with far too many variations of disastrous lemon muffins.

She jumped up on the counter and pushed a finger into the goopy muffins. “Take off those oven mitts and have a seat.”

This wasn’t why I called her here. I needed her to tell me what the heck I was doing wrong with my recipe. It had to be something that I was simply just overlooking. Some little detail that I was stupidly forgetting. Maybe I didn’t put in the baking powder?

“I need to start the next batch and for you to tell me what is going on with my muffins.” I threw the oven mitts on the counter and grabbed a clean mixing bowl. I didn’t trust the one I had been using.

“You need to sit your stubborn butt up on that counter.” She pointed to the counter directly across from her. “And tell me what is going on.”

“There is nothing going on.” I pushed some stray curls out of my face.

When she cocked an eyebrow and didn’t say anything else, I knew she wasn’t going to help me until I did what she said. So, I climbed up onto the counter and crossed my arms as I looked at my mother.

“Okay.” She swung her legs back and forth. “Am I going to have to pull this out of you or are you going to just tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong except for these stupid muffins.”

“Charlie Grace, I am your mother.” I rolled my eyes at her using my middle name. “I know when something is wrong with you. You know this lemon muffin recipe like the back of your hand.” She touched one of the muffins again, and I swear it shook like Jell-O. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I went on a date with David last night,” I blurted out. I had no intentions on talking to her about any of this. My mom was nosy enough as it was. She didn’t need the encouragement.

“And it didn’t go well?” she asked.

“No. It was great actually.”

“Okay?” She looked me over. “Did he not kiss you at the end of the night? Did you not make it home before midnight, and he realized you weren’t really a princess?”

“Mom.” I gave her the evil eye before she continued with her ridiculous guesses.

“Fine. I give up. What happened?”

“Brandon happened.” I threw my arms out in the air as if that should have been obvious.

“I’m confused. Did you go on a date with David or Brandon? You didn’t go on two dates in one night, did you??”

“No.” I shook my head at her. “There is no way I would go on a date with Brandon.”

She grinned as if she knew a secret that I wasn’t privy to, and it just riled me up more.

“David brought me back here after my date to get my car.” She nodded her head as if to say ‘Okay. Get to the juicy stuff.’ “Brandon and Parker were outside their shop when we got back.”

“And?”

“And,” I was practically screeching now. “Brandon is an asshole.”

My mom’s eyes lit up, and I decided in that moment that the next time I needed advice on a recipe that I was going to call my dad.

“What did he do?”

“David was this close to kissing me.” I held up my fingers a fraction of an inch apart. “And of course, Brandon had to open his big mouth and interrupt us.”

“Did you really want your first kiss to be outside the bakery in front of other people?” My mom crossed her arms now to match mine.

“You are missing the point entirely. Brandon had to stick his big nose into my business then, then…” I was really getting riled up now. “He had the gall to insinuate to David that he had been over here at the bakery the night before.”

“Well, was he?”

“Yes, but that’s beside the point as well. He insinuated that he was here for reasons that he was most certainly not here for. Or he may have been here for them, but they definitely didn’t happen.”

“So, what did happen?” My mom looked far more interested in finding out what I did or didn’t do with Brandon versus how he may have ruined my life. Dramatic? Yes. But necessary.

“Nothing. He helped me decorate some cupcakes, and we got into a powdered sugar fight. I’m like eighty percent sure he tried to kiss me then we spent the next hour cleaning this place up.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hands to slow me down. “What do you mean that you are eighty percent sure that he tried to kiss you? How are you not one hundred percent?”

“He moved in toward me.” I moved my body similarly to the way he moved his.

“Then what happened?”

I shrugged my shoulders because it was a bit embarrassing to admit to my own mother how little game I had. “I, um, I shoved a cupcake in his face.”

My mom laughed so hard that I was a little worried that she might fall off the counter. It would serve her right though.

“You mean to tell me that a man that looks like that,” she motioned from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes as if I should know what she meant, and unfortunately, I did. “Tried to kiss you after he helped you ice cupcakes and all you did was shove one in his face?”

“It sounds a little crazy when you say it like that, but…”

“I just repeated what you said. I just simplified it.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“But I have no business kissing him.”

“Well, why the heck not?” She finally pulled one of the muffins out of the pan, and I tried not to cringe at the blob of batter that didn’t even resemble a muffin.

“Because he’s a player.”

“You know him well enough to know that?” My mom looked up at me with a look that I knew far too well.

“I don’t have to know him that well to figure it out. Plus, his own friends said he is.”

My mom shook her head. “Charlie, I have taught you better than to judge someone off what others say about them. Friends or not.”

“So, what? You want me to kiss him and let him prove me right and get hurt?”

“No.” She shook her head again. “I just think you should give the guy a chance to prove you wrong.”

Then she took a bite of the muffin before I could stop her, and I couldn’t stop laughing as she spit the bite out almost instantly. “Plus, any man who can screw you up so badly that you bake like this is probably worth a bit of heartbreak.”

My mom, ladies and gentlemen.