Scrumptious: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Camos and Cupcakes Book 3) Read online

  “Sixteen.”

  The woman’s eyes widen. “What are you? Twenty-two?”

  I shake my head. “No, almost twenty-nine.”

  “Oh,” she says, apparently thinking about that little bit of news. I’m waiting for her to make a comment about my age. I might have a bit of a complex thanks to my mother.

  “Since you run the restaurants, I just wanted to say that maybe you should think about adding some nonfat cheese items.”

  I blink. “Excuse me?”

  “Some people don’t like all that fat.”

  “That’s exactly why we have a lot of grilled fish and chicken, all cooked without cheese.”

  They are low-carb and low-fat, and I had to fight my parents on the issue. My father just complained about them the other day, even though they are some of my best sellers.

  “Oh, well, I like cheese. So, I would prefer to order something with cheese on it, just without fat.”

  Jesus, where does he find these chicks? She thinks I should change my menu because she deigned to slap her bony ass down in a booth in my restaurant. You can’t live in San Antonio and not know about the Martinez family and their restaurants. If she hasn’t been in one of our establishments, she has been living under a rock.

  With the need in my gut to tell her exactly where to stick her cheese sticks, I smile. I know it’s not a nice smile, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. Also, it keeps me from smacking Ms. Skin and Bones upside the head.

  “I will definitely take it under advisement.”

  “Oh, goodie.”

  “Yeah, goodie.” I toss of look of irritation at Fritz. “I have to get back to work.”

  “See ya later, Savannah,” Fritz says with an expression that tells me he’s enjoying the hell out of this.

  Asshole.

  “Sure,” I say. This is what men go for. Brainless, self-centered women. Well, not all men. His business partners Ed and Harry are engaged to my two best friends, but Fritz is more of the norm, while his partners have to be the exception.

  I know men. I have four brothers and work in an industry that is dominated by men behind the scenes. I know they aren’t all like that, but as I glance at my brother, who is leaning over the bar and flirting with a customer, I know most of them are. Or, at least, the pretty ones are. Steering clear of them is my best bet to protect my heart.

  Is it any wonder I’m a virgin at almost thirty?

  Okay, I don’t date, so that might be part of the reason. I don’t have the time or the inclination. I would have no idea how to weed out all the horn dogs. So, until I figure that out, I’ll just comfort myself with food and, well, my vibrator. Food is my friend and will never be mean to me. It will be there in the dark to make me feel better. If I could marry cheese, I would. Despite the fact that I haven’t really enjoyed a meal in forever, I step back into my kitchen and smile. Here, I know what I want and how I want it. Until I have time, this will just have to do.

  Chapter Two

  Fritz

  First thing you need to know about me: I love women. All women. Short, tall, skinny, plump, any hair color, ethnicity, any woman. I find them enthralling, sometimes irritating, and always amazing. It comes from growing up in a house of women—or as I called it: Vagina Island. I have four sisters. My father worked long hours and had to travel a lot for work. That left me with a house full of women: my four sisters, Mom, and Grannie Pam. I learned first-hand just how fascinating women are. They are strong, but also soft and alluring. And so smart. So amazingly brilliant it stuns me sometimes. I love to see how their minds work. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy their company—even if I have no plans to talk them into bed. They are always a joy to talk to because they intrigue me on so many levels.

  I glance at Gwen as we make our way up the stairs to her apartment. Okay, maybe present company excluded. I’m not trying to be mean. I met her last week when I was interviewed about the shop. That’s my job and I excel at it. I always see meeting women as a side benefit. She’s attractive, with the kind of curves that make most men beg for her to pay attention to them. Me…I’m bored. She’s not that bad, but damn, the woman is vapid. She has spent the last fifteen minutes talking about her nails. Her nails! I just want to get her to her apartment and get out of here. Believe me, I know that women can definitely go on about things—and I usually enjoy that. In fact, I listened to Savannah talk about her knives, those ones she carries back and forth to work. Granted, she was threatening Harry with them at the time, but listening to her explanation on why to keep them sharp was utterly fascinating.

  Why did Savannah pop up in my head? That incident happened almost a year ago. Being that she’s Allison and EJ’s best friend, and her best friends are marrying mine, well, it’s natural that I know her, but I have never thought of her in a sexual way.

  Okay, now you know I just lied to you, and I feel really bad about it too. I have thought about her that way but, hey, men always think about women that way. There are varying degrees of that fantasy, of course. Savannah is definitely in the never gonna happen category. She’s like a sister.

  And now I have just lied to you again. I can promise that I never thought of any of my four sisters that way because…ew. But I put her in that sort of sister-like category with Allison and EJ. I find her attractive and, if we weren’t who we were in the world, I would definitely try to get a chance to fuck her. The truth is, though, she’s off limits because she’s one of those women who would expect more than a few quick fucks.

  At this point, you might think I’m an asshole who lies and cheats. I don’t. I’m upfront with every woman I date. They know the lay of the land, and I don’t ever lie to them about my intentions. Some of them might get ideas, but I have never told a woman I believed in forever. That requires love, and I’m not sure I have that in me. I usually don’t think so much about those kinds of things, but since my friends have paired off, I’ve been thinking about it more and more.

  “What do you think?” Gwen asks cutting into my thoughts.

  I blink. Oh fuck. She expects me to answer that question. I calm myself down and remember life with those four sisters who expect me to pay attention all the time.

  “What are the choices again?”

  Then she starts talking about whether she should stick with silk nails or go back to the other kind whatever the fuck kind that is.

  “Silk,” I say. Yep, I know about them. Four sisters and a mother. My oldest sister loves all things nails, and I have heard enough about fucking nails to last me a lifetime. Thankfully, Caro yaps at her husband now, and I don’t have to hear about it. That is, unless she is texting me about her nails. She does this from time to time because she knows it irritates the living shit out of me.

  Gwen’s face lightens and she smiles at me as we arrive at her door. Apparently, that was the right answer. I think it might have just been a test that I passed.

  “Would you like to come in?” The hooded look, the way she’s licking her lips, everything about her screams sex. I mean, that’s why women go out with me, right? I do have a reputation, especially with a lot of the women who handle interviews for publications. But I only have one answer.

  Nope. No way.

  That should scare me, but it doesn’t. I’m not as horny as I was a decade ago. In my mid-thirties, I have a more discerning taste. Also, I can’t stand a self-centered woman. One who knows her worth, I am all down for that and find it as sexy as hell. So, worried about your own hair and nails that you spend your first date talking about them? Boring and a turn off.

  “Not tonight,” I say with a smile and she pouts. I really hate women who pout like that. It’s a ploy, a game to her. I like the game normally, but the ingenuine actions aren’t fun, they’re cloying. Another strike against her. “I have to be at the shop at six in the morning.”

  “Oh, okay,” she says, her expression clearing. I brush my mouth over hers, trying to give her the kiss she’s expecting. When she pulls back, she’s smiling, an
d I have to wonder about it. I felt nothing in that kiss and apparently, she didn’t notice.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” she says. I know she wants me to say that I’ll call, but remember, I said I don’t lie or cheat. Not my thing.

  I smile and wait until she slips into her apartment and locks the door. I take my time walking to my truck and try to figure out what’s going on. I’ve felt a little off lately. Don’t get me wrong, now that I know what she’s like, Gwen isn’t the kind of woman I would want to date or even fuck. She’s not bright and all she cares about is herself. Not once did she ask about me or the charity the guys and I are starting. I heard about her extensions, her shopping trips to New York, and how much she spent on her car. The only good part to the night was the expression on Savannah’s face when Gwen suggested they use nonfat cheese.

  I slip into my truck and start back to my apartment. I don’t live that far away, and this part of San Antonio isn’t busy this time of night. I hate my apartment, but it’s what I can afford right now. Grannie Pam’s retirement home is expensive, and since she was diagnosed with dementia last year, it’s important to keep her in familiar surroundings. My parents and I help her out because that’s what family does. Her funds cover most of her care, but I think it’s important that she has an apartment by herself in the facility. So, I have to watch my money for the time being, but it’s worth it. I would do anything for Grannie Pam, including taking in that dumbass cat, General McLovin. He hates me and the feeling is mutual, but she couldn’t take care of him anymore, so I took him.

  I pull into my complex and park my truck. Walking to my apartment, I wonder about my dating activities. Lately, there hasn’t been as much activity and it doesn’t totally bother me. I’m thirty-five, not eighteen, and I was bound to slow down. Is it natural or is it because my friends have fallen in love? I don’t really know, but at the moment, I don’t care. I wasn’t lying to Gwen. I’m opening the shop tomorrow, the cupcake shop everyone loves. Thankfully, I’m only working out front and Ed will be in the back, but it’s just us until noon.

  Not a bad life considering less than five years ago, we were all risking our lives for our country. I don’t regret my time in the service, but we were all ready to get out. The shop keeps us busy, and it isn’t easy work. Still, it’s damned easier than our Army careers. Plus, as Allison would say: CUPCAKES!

  When I reach my third-floor apartment, there’s a note on the door.

  Eviction: As per your lease, you have five days to vacate your apartment due to violating the no pet rule.

  Well, fuck me.

  Chapter Three

  Savannah

  It’s Sunday before eleven in the morning and I want to die. I didn’t get home until after two this morning thanks to some “clients” my parents brought into my restaurant. I’m exhausted from this weekend of work, and I just want to burrow under the covers and sleep, but here I am at Allison and Ed’s having brunch. Why do people like brunch so much? It’s like it’s some kind of rite of passage or some shit like that. And yes, I can’t even come up with any kind of smart-ass comment because I am that fucking tired. I park my car behind Ed’s SUV and realize I am the last to arrive, again.

  I’m sitting in my car and trying to get the energy to get out of it and walk to the door. I want to see my friends, I really do, but I also need to sleep about a gazillion hours to catch up. It’s the first time I’ve had two days off in forever. This will also be my last time off before Ed and Allison’s wedding. I will work fifteen days in a row starting Tuesday. I know when my parents see the schedule, there will be comments, but I have it covered. Hopefully, I can make it through the next two weeks without collapsing, I should be okay. Besides, that’s what coffee is for, right?

  With a sigh, I slip out of my car and trudge up to the front door. I love my friends, but this getting together for brunch on Sundays is annoying. Worse, I know they do it about once a month so they can spend time with me. Yeah, I’m kind of an asshole. It’s the only name I can call myself because I have the best friends in the world and here I am, inwardly bitching about being here.

  I don’t even knock because I can hear everyone already. Thank God I don’t have a migraine this morning. Otherwise, I would have to lay down and cry. My friends are loud. Add in the men of Camos and Cupcakes and it isn’t something I could take if I had a migraine. I make my way back to the kitchen, knowing that’s where they’ll all be gathered.

  “Savannah,” EJ says and rushes forward.

  Taller than me by an inch or two, EJ is larger than life. Red hair, a penchant for Boho style fashion, and overly affectionate, she is one of the most amazing people I know. She wraps her arms around me, and I relax into the hug. I pretend not to like them because, well, remember, I said I sounded like an asshole? I am sort of an asshole. But Allison is right about EJ hugs. She gives the best, and the warmth of her body and her affection fill me. I school my features as she pulls back.

  “You look tired.”

  “I love you too,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes. “I just worry.”

  I know she does. They all do. But I got a handle on it. Sort of. Maybe.

  Shit.

  “Busy weekend?” Allison, my other best friend asks. The chemo nurse is smiling at me, her dark green eyes sparkling. I nod. There isn’t much to explain. They know it all, have heard it hundreds of times. Jerk customers and pain in the ass employees.

  “What sugar are you giving me today, Ed?” I ask her fiancé. The primary baker for Camos and Cupcakes, Ed Cooper is a god with anything sweet to eat. I can do sweets myself, but I tend to fare better with savory treats.

  “I made some red velvet pancakes.” The smile he’s giving me tells me he knows they are my favorite. Of course, he knows. That’s my favorite cupcake.

  “When are you going to leave Allison? I can cook all the savory stuff; you can do the sweet. Perfect matchup. I’ll let you keep Allison as your side bitch.”

  His eyes twinkle, but he just goes back to cooking without saying anything. He’s one of those quiet types and the sweetest giant ever put on the earth, in my opinion, and I’m so happy for Allison.

  “Sit,” Allison says, pointing to the chair. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

  Yeah, they treat me like an invalid. There’s a part of me that loves it because I don’t really get this kind of support from my own family. But then, the asshole part of me resents it. I was brought up to be self-sufficient and any help made me feel as if I was failing. This morning, I’m too damned tired to even figure out which side I fall on. These last few weeks, getting up and out of bed has gotten harder and harder.

  I do as she orders, so the grateful part of me is in charge apparently. I look around at the faces and realize we’re missing one person.

  “Where’s pretty boy?”

  “He’s on his way,” Harry, Allison’s brother and EJ’s boyfriend says.

  “He was in the restaurant on Friday.” Allison hands me a mug filled with black coffee. “Thanks.”

  I bring it up to my nose and breathe in the scent. Oh, god, that’s amazing. I sip, allowing the warm liquid to slide down my throat and feed my soul.

  “Okay, I take it back. Allison, you have to leave Ed for me. I will cook for you and you will make me coffee. Ed can be your side bitch.”

  She giggles and shakes her head. “So, Fritz was in with a date?”

  I nod. “She was…not bright.”

  “Are they ever?” EJ asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t meet a lot of them. This one told me to offer nonfat cheese items on the menu.”

  The door opens heralding Fritz’s arrival. When he steps into the kitchen, he looks around at the group.

  “Okay, what did I do?”

  “I was telling them about Gwen.”

  He rolls his eyes. “That woman was horrible.”

  “I agree.”

  “No, she talked for thirty minutes about her hair extensions.”

  I chuckle and
sip at my coffee. I’m not sure that’s any different from his usual dates. And truth is, I’m nonjudgmental. I don’t care what’s between the ears, as long as they don’t question my cooking. She did, so she is dead to me.

  “Any luck?” Harry asks.

  Fritz shakes his head.

  “Luck with what?” I ask.

  “I got an eviction notice.”

  “Did you sleep with the landlord’s daughter?” I ask with a chuckle. That is so something he would do.

  “No. They found out about General McLovin.”

  I snort as I always do at the name of his grandmother’s cat. Story is that his Grannie Pam loves the movie Superbad. I really want to meet her someday.

  “I wish I hadn’t let my lease go on my apartment,” EJ says. “You really can’t find anything?”

  “I thought I would be able to find something, but it’s difficult in my price range. Add in the short notice and everything we have going on these next couple of weeks, it’s really hard.”

  I know Fritz helps out his grandmother and his money is tight. It is something that makes me like him. I normally avoid pretty boys as much as possible. They are usually shallow, and while Fritz might be shallow, he’s good to his grannie. That makes him a good guy in my book.

  “Hey, Savannah,” EJ says.

  “Yes,” I say still sipping at my coffee. I might have to marry this instead of Allison or Ed. Just me and this coffee. We could be happy. It doesn’t expect anything from me, and I just want to drink it.

  “You have some extra room, don’t you?” EJ asks.

  I look up as everyone turns to look at me. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t have an allergy to cats, right? I mean, you could let Fritz stay there until he can find something else.”

  I look at Fritz.

  “I don’t want to put you on the spot,” Fritz says.

  It’s a little too late for that. I shrug. “I have a massive house and I’m hardly there. There’s another room my uncle built on with a full bathroom and a little fridge and microwave. There’s also a sitting room.”