Chapter 3

Meli

Look,there's not a manual or something that says small-town bakers must be plump and jolly and whistle while they work. I'm sure somewhere out there, there were plenty of village bakeries run by short-tempered skinny grumps.

I'm just saying I haven't personally met any of them.

Today I was whistling. Well, I meant, not whistling, because I can't whistle. But I was humming along to the music playing on my phone, something upbeat and adorable about female empowerment and whatnot.

I had to be honest; I was feeling pretty good. It was mid-afternoon, and Peggy was still out front, handling customers and putting in next week's order. I was in the kitchen, my happy place, mixing a quintuple batch of my cookie dough.

Next week, for the big festival, I was going to mix in red and blue candies. This weekend, I figured I'd include macadamia nuts and chocolate chips. Or maybe cherry bits and…

Point was, I needed to get ahead of the game, so I had a lot of the dough chilling at the end of each day.

Thanks to Jess—did it count as nepotism if I was the only baker on the island?—the town had already contracted me to provide two hundred red-white-and-blue cupcakes for the celebration on the beach. I planned to sell goodies at the parade as well, while Peggy held down the shop.

Maybe I could talk Harper into helping too. She might be a fancy-schmancy lawyer, but she'd always enjoyed my cookies.

Mom, on the other hand…

I sighed and wrestled the bowl into the stand mixer.

Mom was going to give me grief about working while they were visiting, but they knew I had obligations. I mean, the whole reason they were visiting Eastshore over the Fourth was because of the celebration, which was my chance to reach as many tourists as possible.

It should become obvious by now that I had a bit of a contentious relationship with my mother.

I love her, really and truly I do, and I know that she loves me.

It's just…she has very clear ideas of what people should do, or look like, or be…and if someone doesn't happen to fit her ideal, she doesn't mind letting them know. And if that person happens to be her younger daughter, well…

Let's just say there was a reason I moved out of the house as soon as I could.

I stared at the arm of the mixer going ‘round and ‘round, digging into the dough in a way I never could with that big of a batch. The oversized mixer had been one of the first upgrades I'd invested in after I moved to Eastshore.

Dad had loaned me the money for it, and I'd paid him back within the year. I was still pretty proud of that.

My father had always been my refuge, the one who never spoke to me about Mom's nagging, but saw it and let me know he still loved me. He'd slip me an extra brownie, after Mom went off for five minutes about the need to watch my figure. He'd be there with a hug and a link to a funny video after Mom not-too-subtly hinted that straight blonde hair was so much more fashionable than brunette curls.

It was clear my mother got her ideal child when she'd given birth to Harper, and I was her second-born and second-best.

It would be easy to hate Harper, with her thin build and perfect smile and straight blonde hair. But the bitch of it all was that my oldest sister—despite being a straight-A student, a popular cheerleader, and as gorgeous as a model—was actually pretty cool. We weren't close, not the way Jess and I were, but she always supported me to Mom, which I appreciated.

I wondered whose idea it had been to visit Eastshore during the busiest time of an already-busy season.

Was it my imagination, or had the arm of the stand mixer slowed down? I frowned and leaned closer. Either time had slowed or yeah, the mixer was—What was that smell?

Right around the time I noticed it, a screeching noise filled the air, and I realized the stand mixer was smoking.

Panicking, I yanked the cord from the wall and grappled with the thing, pulling the bowl from it, desperate to save the dough.

Whew! It looked okay and well-mixed. I hefted the bowl to the counter, covered it with plastic wrap, then bent closer to the mixer. Was it broken? Please don't let it be broken.

I smacked the thing on the side with my palm.

It just sat there, looking broken, while my palm smarted.

What did you expect to happen? Percussive maintenance doesn't work on everything.

Damn damn damn!

Was the thing broken for good? I glanced at the dough. No, surely it wasn't. It could be fixed! But could it be fixed in time for the celebration? Or was I going to be stuck mixing a bajillion batches of dough by hand?

"Hey Meli?" Peggy's call from the front jerked me from my worries, and I straightened.

Releasing my lower lip I was chewing on, I called back, "Yeah?"

"You…have visitors."

Her tone should've warned me, but I was busy fretting about my mixer. So I wasn't really paying attention as I stepped out of the kitchen, wiping my hands distractedly…to see my mother standing in the middle of my empty bake shop, arms flung wide, beaming like a lighthouse.

"Darling!" she cried, "Surprise!"

In a daze, I crossed the room and allowed her to embrace me—I even hugged her back while peering over her shoulder at Harper, one brow raised in question. My sister, who was shorter than me—like Mom, lots of people were shorter than me—merely winced and shrugged.

"Mom? What are you doing here so early?" I pulled back, trying to look like I was delighted by the surprise. "I thought you were coming next week?"

My mother—gorgeous, slender and dressed like something from a magazine—fluttered her fingers dismissively. "We wanted to surprise you! I told Harper I absolutely needed one of your cookies! Well, half of one, at least."

Bemused, I turned to my sister for an explanation. Was Dad here already?

Her eyeroll was subtle. "One of my cases closed early so I requested a few extra days off for wedding planning stuff."

"I thought you and Mom were heading up to Fredericksburg to visit with Simon's family and the venue, then coming to Eastshore on the third?" That's what they'd told me, at least. "Is Dad with you?"

"Simon isn't off until this weekend, so I suggested we pop over to Eastshore early and surprise you!" Mom was brushing flour from my shoulder, tsking as if it was dirt.

I'm a baker, Mom, I get floury. I managed to restrain my eyeroll.

"We're only here for three nights," Harper assured me. "We'll head to Northern Virginia on Saturday, then we'll be back here—with Daddy—on the third. He couldn't get the extra time off, and he never planned to go to Fredericksburg anyhow."

I nodded, still dazed.

Dad was a successful—very successful aerospace engineer. He worked for one of the big aeronautics firms which had transitioned into space travel. I'd tell you which one, but I'm not supposed to name it. Basically, he was super-helpful in developing the tech that allowed astronauts to now live on the moon, and he holds a bunch of patents, and yes, okay, I think he's just about the smartest, coolest, most interesting man I know.

Actually, I think that was my problem when it came to dating. All the men I met, even the hot ones, weren't as smart as my father, and I always felt let down. I'm not saying I was brilliant or anything; I had just grown up with a man who looked at the world around him and came up with ways to make it better, not worse.

And there's a lot to be said for a guy like that.

My mom was waiting on me to say something, so I cleared my throat and managed a smile. "That's—that's great! I'm excited I get to see you two for some extra time." I glanced over my shoulder. "Actually, the rest of this week shouldn't be too busy, unlike next week"—no harm in reminding them—"so I could probably sneak in some time off."

Peggy had been listening. "Want me to come in early tomorrow?"

I started to shake my head, then changed my mind. "I'll text you, and thanks for the offer. Why don't you go ahead and head home? I'll close up." It was almost time, anyhow. I just had to wait for my usual Wednesday-afternoon visitor…

Nodding, Peggy slid her apron from over her head and offered my family a kind smile on her way to the back room. "It's nice to see you! Enjoy your stay on Eastshore Isle!"

My mother had visited before, of course, and always gushed about the quaintness and adorable-ocity of the island. But she'd never seen it during one of the biggest celebration times of the year.

"Do you have your stuff?" I asked, glancing around. "I'll probably be here for another half hour at least, if you want to take it to your—where are you staying?"

"The bed-and-breakfast, I assume!" Mom said, laughing. "Eastshore hasn't built a hotel since the last time we were here, has it?"

Uh, no. That was kinda the point. "You extended your reservations?"

My mother, in typical Susan O'Donnell fashion, waved her hand, as if dismissing an invalid concern. Personally, I'd always thought she did it to show off all the bling on her fingers and wrists, but what do I know?

"Darling, this is Eastshore, not the Hamptons. It's not exactly a tourist hotspot. I'm certain the BB has space—they're likely desperate for the business!"

Before I could point out that was a ridiculous assumption in the middle of summer, Harper dropped her head to her hand. "I thought she said we had reservations," she groaned, for my ears alone.

"We left our bags in the car," Mom offered breezily, "but your sister insisted we stop by to visit you first."

While I was trying to decide if that was a dig in some way at me, Harper peeked hopefully from between her fingers. "These cupcakes look divine."

Since she straightened and looked with anticipation at the last two chocolate-chocolate-chocolate ones, I took a hint and hurried around the counter to pull one out. "They're one of my most popular," I offered, placing it on a small plate and handing her a fork.

Then I reconsidered and handed her a second fork.

Harper smiled and braced her hip against the counter as she dug in. After a moment's hesitation, Mom joined her and picked up the other fork.

"You know, Melinda, when we're up in Fredericksburg, we're going to be meeting with Simon's family," she began, entirely too nonchalantly. "His brother's name is Jacob, and he's a doctor, just like Simon."

"A podiatrist," Harper was quick to point out, hastily swallowing a bite of chocolate. "Not like, a surgery doctor."

"A podiatrist is a real doctor," Mom scolded. "They just don't have emergency on-call hours." She waved the fork at me. "Very stable home life. He's single, darling."

I gaped.

I mean, there's probably a better word for what I was doing, but yeah, I stared at Mom, jaw slack. She was…she was trying to hook me up again, wasn't she?

"He's just as cute as Simon," Harper was quick to point out. "With dark curly hair. I know you like dark hair."

"And your children will have curls!" Mom gushed. "How cute is that?"

More gaping.

Oh, this wasn't the first time she'd tried to hook me up with one of her friends' sons, but it was the first time my sister had been involved. What made her—made either of them!—think I was interested in the same kind of guy Harper was?

Besides, Simon was a skinny little man who stood eye-to-eye with me. Harper thought he was cute—which was good, I guess, for the whole marital bliss thing—but I didn't particularly agree.

"You'll meet him at the wedding, of course," Mom was saying, "since he's Simon's best man and you're the maid of honor. But wouldn't it be nice to meet him ahead of time? I was thinking we could invite him back here when we return on the third, with Simon and your father, and you two could meet then. Maybe hang out a bit?" She waggled her brows. "If there's no room at the BB, he could sleep in your spare bedroom."

My eyes were wide now. "Mom, I—"

"No pressure," Harper was quick to assure me. "Seriously." The look she shot the back of Mom's head made it clear whose idea this was. "But it did seem kinda serendipitous."

"Just think!" my mother gushed, "If you marry him, both of my girls will be in Northern Virginia, and I can see all of my grandbabies in one place!"

Mom expected me to give up my bakery, give up Eastshore, and move to wherever this new husband of mine was, and have babies right away? Of course she does.

"Mom…" I groaned, not even sure where to begin.

"Sorry," my sister offered with a wince. "But Jacob is cute, and since you're not dating anyone—"

The answer came to me in a flash. "I am!" I blurted. At their questioning looks, I elaborated. "Seeing someone, I mean. Here on the island. Uh…It's new."

Mom frowned. "You haven't mentioned him before."

Behind my back, I crossed my fingers and prayed for inspiration. "It's...I mean, we've kinda liked each other from afar, that sort of thing." I was rambling now, rolling with the lies as they came. "Very romantic, Jess says. We were pining."

"And now you're not?" Mom pressed doubtfully.

"Nope. Definitely not pining. Very much enjoying our lives. Dating. Each other. Because that's what we're doing."

"Dating," Harper repeated, very clearly not smirking as she licked the last of the crumbs from her fork. "This gentleman."

"Right." I nodded too enthusiastically, desperate to keep them going. Please please believe me. "I'm really sorry. Jacob sounds great, podiatry, and—and cuteness and everything. I just…I can't see him."

"Because you're dating someone else," Harper said with a too-serious nod.

At this point, I don't think I cared if she believed me or not; it was Mom who needed to. I needed Mom to quit bugging me about Jacob, because no matter how "cute" a skinny little dude like him could be, I wasn't going to give up Eastshore and my dreams to move to Fredericksburg to be a podiatrist's wife, Mother.

So I smiled regretfully at her, and hoped the universe would help me out. "Sorry," I managed again.

Mom's pursed lips told me she didn't believe me. Dammit.

"And you've never mentioned this man? What's his name? What does he do?"

"Ahhh…" Stalling, I hurried around the counter and began to bustle about, taking care of my usual end-of-the-day chores. Closing the blinds, sweeping up the crumbs, that sort of thing. "Well, I've been so busy these days you know I haven't called as often as I should…"

"I know," Mom said icily, and I winced.

"Like I said, it was more of a from-afar thing," I hedged. "I had a long-time crush, and it's not like I mention all of my crushes to you over the phone, Mom."

"And you just recently started dating?"

"Sorecently." My smile was likely sickly. "Haven't had time to tell you about him."

Or make up a name.

"Well, I for one can't wait to meet this mystery man," Harper spoke up cheerfully, clearly enjoying my misery. "Glad we came early!"

"Yes," Mom drawled. "What is his name, Melinda?"

I swallowed.

And at that moment, the universe answered my prayer.

The bell above the door jingled, and my orc—I mean, Cairo stepped in. He froze when he saw Mom and Harper standing there, gaping at him, then his dark eyes flashed to me.

"Cairo!" I burbled, relieved. Beyond relieved. "You're just in time."

Unthinking, I latched onto his arm, intending to pull him toward the half-dozen caramel cupcakes I'd set aside for him, but it was impossible. For one thing, he was built like a house: large, sturdy, and so much stronger than me.

And for another…

The moment I touched him, a zing went up my arm and landed in my chest, causing me to suck in a breath I swear I heard him echo. When I glanced up at him, he was scowling down at me.

But this scowl felt confused instead of angry.

"Your—your cupcakes," I managed. Then I swallowed. "They're right over here. Honey."

The honey was what made his dark eyes widen and forced a little "Oh for heaven's sake" from my mother. When I turned back to them, Mom was still looking shocked, but Harper was smiling approvingly.

"Mom, Harper, this is Cairo." I peered up at him. "Cairo, this is my mother and my older sister. They're here early and surprised me." I was mugging extra hard, hoping he'd pick up on my desperation and help me out. "I was just telling them about you."

"About me?" he growled.

"About him?" Mom blurted. "Darling, this is your new boyfriend?"

Above me, Cairo made a noise which was probably incredulity at my audacity, and I hated to think of his expression.

But I couldn't afford to back down, not with Skinny Jacob and his podiatry office on the line. So I forced a big smile and bustled over to the counter, talking a mile a minute.

"Yep, my boyfriend. Definitely! Cairo has lived on Eastshore for ages, and I've known him for a long time. Jess's married to his cousin—

"Third cousin," he muttered fiercely behind me.

I pretended I hadn't heard him as I smiled brightly at Mom. "Cairo's the absolute best mechanic on the island—"

"I'm the only mechanic," came his rumble.

"And he has his own shop," I finished smoothly, spinning back to land at his side, noting the undershirt he wore with a splatter of something oily on it. "Here you go, honey. What'd you think of the strawberry ones?"

My eyes darted between his, hating the confusion and uncertainty he was masking with grumpy irritation. I begged him with my gaze to go along with this, to understand how much I needed him right now.

Finally he blew out a little harumph. "They were your best yet," he admitted.

And I couldn't help it; I lit up. I knew I lit up, because his eyes widened in surprise and his gaze dropped to my wide smile.

"Thank you!" Forgetting my mom was in the room, I admitted, "I created the recipe just for you."

His gaze was still on my lips, and while I watched, the tip of his tongue darted out to brush against one of his tusks. I'm not certain if the gesture meant anything, or if it was unconscious, but it sent a surge of heat through me, settling deep in my lady bits. I sucked in a gasp and pressed my thighs together.

His nostrils flared, and his gaze darted back up to mine.

"Sorry, Mom," came Harper's voice from behind me. "I don't think Jacob's in the running at all."

I didn't hear my mother's response, because I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

My entire world had narrowed to the box of cupcakes in my hand and the giant, gorgeous orc standing in front of me. It should be impossible, but I swore I could smell him. Not just grease and soap, but…something else. My lips parted as I stared up at him.

And then Cairo was lifting his arm, and I'm pretty certain my heart stopped beating.

His big hand cupped the back of my head, nails—claws?—digging into my bun and making me shiver with anticipation when they scraped lightly against my scalp. He pulled my face toward his, lowering his lips…

Oh my gawd, oh my gawd.

He kissed me.

He kissed me, and it was everything I'd ever imagined—hoped!—it would be.

Oh my gawd.

My toes curled, I swear to you. My toes curled and my fingers smooshed the box I was holding, and Cairo stole all the breath from my body. His lips were rough, but also somehow soft, and oh-so-gentle.

Despite his hold on me, he didn't crush me, didn't jam his mouth against mine. This was a slow kiss, but a deep one, and I was the one who parted my lips—likely moaning while I did it—in an attempt to get him to come on in and enjoy the ride.

When his tongue dragged along my lower lip, I felt my knees buckle.

His free hand went to my hip to steady me, and I mean yeah I leaned into him. Good lord, but he was intoxicating.

His tongue was wide with little bumps on it; I couldn't tell if they were ridges or nubs or what, but good lord in heaven, they felt good.

Hefelt good.

Kissing Cairo was everything I thought it would be, and when he pulled away, I was the one to whimper and lean toward him, chasing his lips with mine.

He gave me one more kiss, soft and over far too quickly, then pressed his forehead to mine.

My eyes couldn't focus. My brain couldn't focus. I was breathing too quickly, sucking in his exhales; trying to bring us closer. My nipples tingled, and my pussy…well, basically everything throbbed with need.

Ithrobbed with need.

When he straightened, I realized he was smiling. Oh, it was subtle, and likely no one else could see it; a small twist of his lips. The lips which I'd just tasted.

Oh my gawd.

Gently, he pulled the cardboard box—pink, with my shop's name blazoned across it—from my unresisting fingers.

When he spoke, I felt his voice all the way down to my core. "See you later, Cupcake."

His fingers fell away from the back of my head, and I nearly whimpered with regret. I just watched him turn and walk out the door, knees weak, breath unsteady…

And knew my world had been changed forever.