The Cupcake Diaries (6 page)

She sighed. “My new apartment will be
my
castle.”

Beside her, Rachel craned her curly red head over the counter and glanced to the right for the third time.

“What are you looking for?” Stacey asked, puzzled.

“Do you smell that?” her cousin crooned.

Stacey sniffed the cupcakes on the counter in front of them. “The gingered maple smells all right to me.”

“No, I meant . . . the
ice cream.
” Rachel licked her lips. “He has fresh whipped, creamy chocolate chip mint over there, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Stacey rolled her eyes. “It’s only ice cream. Our cupcakes taste better.”

“I haven’t had homemade ice cream in ages,” Rachel continued, her eyes wide. “And look. There’s Guy Armstrong in the stand with him. What’s he doing there?”

“Do you want me to go find out?”

Stacey hoped Rachel would say yes so she’d have a legitimate excuse to talk to Dave.

“No,” Rachel said, taking off her apron. “I’ll go.”

She returned fifteen minutes later holding a spoon and a bowl of ice cream.

Stacey gasped. “You’re supporting the enemy!”

“He can’t be an enemy if he makes ice cream this good.”

“He’s taking all our customers.”

Rachel pursed her lips. “Our business
is
a little slow.”

“This weekend is supposed to be the busiest all summer. If we don’t rack up sales today, we never will.” Frustrated, Stacey threw her hands into the air. “So why is the tattoo artist helping Dave?”

“Guy and Dave are friends,” Rachel replied, “and on a big weekend like this, Dave needs him.”

Just like, Stacey thought, she’d need Rachel. Her cousin took another spoonful of ice cream and made a yummy noise, like a toddler. It wouldn’t look good if a customer approached and saw Rachel devouring Dave’s ice cream, but . . . no one came.

Dave drew near to place a garbage bag in the trash can between their stands and shook his head.

“Sorry, girls,” he said with a wicked grin. “Cupcakes have no place on this beach.”

“See?” Stacey whispered to her cousin. “He
is
the enemy.”

“A very good-looking one,” Rachel reminded her.

“If only his attitude matched his appearance,” Stacey muttered.

When Dave said cupcakes had no place on the beach, did he really mean cupcakes, or did he mean
her
? Fearing he meant the latter, her defenses shot up, and heat filled her veins.

Stacey glanced at the smiling, hand-drawn face decorating the rock on her counter. She could almost hear it say,
Buck up. Be the Kate Jones of your own life.

“I’ll show him cupcakes
do
have a place on this beach,” she said, more to herself than to Rachel. “I’ll show Mr. Wright that he’s . . .
wrong
!”

Rachel paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth and stared at her. “
How?
”

Stacey’s gaze fell on the spoon, and she drew in a breath. “I just got a great idea.”

A
SHORT WHILE
later, when Grandpa Lewy arrived at the stand with Bernice and Sarah, Stacey asked him for help.

“Don’t you want to hear about the winner of the sand castle competition?” Grandpa Lewy asked. “It was a sea monster, twenty feet long, with triangular scales all over its skin.”

“You can tell me all about it later, Grandpa,” Stacey told him. “Right now I need to draw in customers. Do you remember how we used to play spoons?”

Stacey sat outside the stand on one of the wooden stools and hit a set of metal spoons against the palm of her hand and her knee the way Grandpa Lewy had shown her when she was a young girl. She’d always been good at it, but the talent wasn’t something she’d brag about at school or put on a job résumé.

Grandpa Lewy spooned along with her, and the tinkling percussion sound gathered a crowd around them to observe. When they stopped, the people clapped and cheered, but best of all they bought cupcakes. Stacey’s fingers were tired, but the customers demanded that she and her grandpa continue. Even Dave stepped out of his stand to listen to them play.

Afterward, Rachel led a big round of applause. “Stacey, I didn’t know you were a performer!”

Stacey smiled. “Neither did I.”

“People were lining up to buy cupcakes the whole time you were playing. I called Mike to bring us another six dozen in the Cupcake Mobile. He should be here any minute.”

Dave walked over with a spoon sticking out of a cup of chocolate chip mint and placed it on the counter. “You’ve got talent, Idaho. Here’s a free ice cream to celebrate your success.”

“See?” Rachel asked, nudging her. “Dave’s peace offering shows he’s willing to acknowledge our victory.”

Stacey shook her head. “He only brought it over to mock me.”

Rachel hesitated, then pointed to the melting ice cream. “Are you going to eat that?”

She smiled. “No, you can have it.”

Sarah walked over to the ice cream truck to talk to Guy, and Grandpa Lewy pointed to Dave, who stood in the truck next to him. “Stacey, I know that young man. He’s Walter Wright’s son.”

“He’s a pleasant-looking fellow,” Bernice added. “Has he asked you out? You know, I first met your grandfather at the beach.”

Stacey narrowed her eyes. “Dave Wright thinks I’m silly and that I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“He didn’t always know what he was doing either,” Grandpa Lewy assured her. “I heard little Davie went through a nasty divorce a couple years back. His wife took him to the cleaners, and he almost lost everything.”

Is that why he’d been ignoring her? The reason he didn’t want to involve himself in another relationship?

“Glad to see him rebuilding the family business,” Grandpa Lewy continued. “He’s a well-dressed lad. I see he still wears the traditional black bow tie.”

“Stacey,” Rachel called, “I need your help.”

Stacey turned her head and realized a line had formed and Creative Cupcakes was back in business. She and Rachel shared only a quick look, but in that moment, something shifted. Her cousin no longer appeared to be the intimidating employer but an equal . . . maybe even a friend.

Stacey smiled. “Rachel, you serve, and I’ll ring up the orders.”

Rachel laughed. “Sure thing, boss.”

One of their customers dropped a handful of sea glass into the now half-full jar Stacey kept next to Rocky on the cupcake counter for display.

“How are you doing, Gladys?” Stacey asked.

“Better.” The older woman nodded toward the ice cream truck. “Yesterday that handsome young man gave me a blanket to wrap around my shoulders to keep the chill off in the evenings.”

“He did?” Stacey sneaked a peek at Dave, who handed out two vanilla soft-serve cones. “That was nice of him.”

“Oh, my—yes!” Gladys’s face glowed. “He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met.”

Stacey wished she could say the same. Instead his comment, “
Cupcakes have no place on the beach
,” sprang to mind.

“Gladys?”

Both Stacey and the old woman turned their heads at the same time. Guy Armstrong stood beside them, his expression showing shocked surprise.

Gladys hesitated, and it was then that Stacey noticed the resemblance between the two.

“I didn’t know where you were,” Guy continued. “Or how to find you.”

The glow on Gladys’s face faded, and Stacey thought the woman might tell Guy to go away. But then Gladys hugged him and smiled, and with tears running down her face she turned toward Stacey and explained, “He’s my brother.”

Stacey thought of her own brother, Tim. If he showed up unexpectedly,
she’d
certainly be surprised. The last time they’d seen each other was seven years ago, in June, right after she’d graduated from college. That was the last time her whole family had been together, documented by the photo she kept in her backpack. Maybe she should give him a call.
Maybe.

Rachel groaned. “Can you handle the crowd while I run to the bathroom?”

“No problem,” Stacey assured her. “I got this.”

F
IVE MINUTES AFTER
Rachel left, an angry outburst erupted among the crowd in front of Dave’s ice cream truck. A man complained that he’d waited in line a half hour. A moment later everyone dispersed.

Dave with no customers? How could that be?
Stacey took the next order for a white chocolate−macadamia cupcake and put the money in the cash drawer. When she looked up, she realized some sort of miracle must have taken place because Dave’s customers had actually left him and were now lined up in front of her stand.

Dave gave her a quick glance as he circled his truck. “Did you jinx me?”

She could have shot back a reply, but she could tell he was stressed, and besides, she couldn’t think of one. Instead she asked, “What happened?”

“My refrigeration broke.”

Stacey’s mouth dropped open. If Dave couldn’t fix it, he’d lose all his homemade ice cream, not to mention all his sales—and on this day, too, the busiest of the year.

This was her chance to laugh at him and gloat in this moment of glory, but she remembered he
did
stop to help her change a flat tire when he passed her on the road two weeks earlier, and she figured she could return the favor.

“I might be able to help,” she offered.

“You? How?”

The same man from Dave’s line who had complained, shouted, “Hey, lady, are you going to serve us the cupcakes or not?”

She was finally selling and serving a steady stream of customers. If she closed her booth to help Dave, she’d lose money, too. Making up her mind, she served the customers who had already ordered and pulled the window down on the Volkswagen bus.

“Sorry,” she told the others in line. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Realigning the electrical circuit points on Dave’s refrigeration system actually took a bit longer than that, but in the end his freezers were back up and running.

“Where did you learn to do this?” Dave asked, looking over her shoulder.

“My father specializes in appliance repair and over the years has taught me a thing or two.” She dropped her multipurpose knife and mini-flashlight back into her emergency backpack and turned toward him.

His expression was one of wild disbelief. “I can’t believe it. You have saved the day. You’ve no idea what kind of mess I would have had if you hadn’t helped. I’m so happy, I could
kiss
you!”

Taking her by the shoulders, he spontaneously pulled her close and pressed his warm lips against hers, leaving Stacey’s senses spinning. Did this mean he wasn’t going to ignore her anymore?

When the kiss ended, Dave released her, looked her in the eye, and smiled at her with the same intensity as on the day they’d first met. “You did good, Idaho.”

She cleared her throat. “I-I only passed through Idaho. I grew up in Nebraska.”

“Nebraska, huh?” Dave chuckled. “Doesn’t have the same kind of ring to it.”

“Call me Stacey.”

He smiled at her again. “Okay . . .
Stacey
.”

She could have remained in that moment forever, but Rachel returned from the bathroom and interrupted. “I feel sick. No offense, Dave, I love your ice cream, but I think I might have eaten too much. Mike’s going to drive me home in the Cupcake Mobile.”

“The lines of people have doubled in the last hour,” Stacey told her. “Who’s going to help me sell?”

“I will.” Dave put his arm around her and gave her a sideways squeeze. “Guy needed time with his sister and left me to sell on my own, too. But as a team, we can help one another.”

Stacey stared at him. “You mean, sell ice cream and cupcakes together?”

Rachel nodded. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“We can offer a two-for-one deal,” Dave said, his enthusiasm spreading across his whole face. “But since I’m the one with the product that needs refrigeration, why don’t you bring your boxes of cupcakes over to my truck?”

Work the rest of the day side by side with Dave Wright, the handsome blond with the big muscles and shining smile, who just moments before had given her a heart-palpitating kiss? Now,
that
was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“I’ll be right over,” she said and tripped over her own feet as she hurried to retrieve her necessary supplies.

Chapter Six

Happiness is a summer breeze, sand between your toes, and your best friend by your side.

—Rachel, United States

T
HE CUPCAKES AND
ice cream special became an instant crowd pleaser. Even the man who had shouted earlier came back and gave them a thumbs up to show his appreciation.

Stacey’s cupcakes were premade, but it took Dave longer to scoop ice cream and fill his orders, so she also worked as cashier. In the process of slipping a $10 bill into the cash drawer, she bumped her arm against Dave’s, and the invisible current that raced across her skin stopped her in her tracks and made her look up.

He was so close. With only mere inches between them, she could have tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder if she had wanted to. And she
did
want to. But she wouldn’t dare. If only he knew how attracted she was to him.

She leaned even closer, trying not to be too obvious about it, to breathe in another whiff of his sea breeze-scented cologne, and when his arm flexed, an inked image of a lightning bolt poked out beneath the edge of his white short-sleeved shirt.

“Oh my gosh. You have a tattoo!”

Dave handed a vanilla soft-serve cone to a kid in front of the window, then glanced at her. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

The familiar warmth of embarrassment crept over her face. After all, what was she doing looking at his incredibly large and perfectly sculpted muscular bicep when she was supposed to be taking orders?

“It didn’t scare me,” she said, her face growing hotter. “I’m just surprised.”

“Surprised I have a tattoo? Why?”

She shifted her stance and instead of answering took the next person’s order. “One scoop of strawberry with sprinkles.”

Dave took the ice cream scoop he’d purchased at the yard sale and dug into the strawberry bucket. “You didn’t answer my question.”