The Accidental Honeymoon (Wildflower Lane #1)

Chapter 1

one

CALLA

Wow. This house is fancy .

The gray Victorian looms before me, its wraparound porch beckoning like open arms. I did a little internet stalking of this couple before I came. Typical research, just to make sure that the couple requesting a wedding cake aren’t serial killers or anything. Now that I’m arriving at their house, though, I realize that being a social media power couple must pay better than I thought.

I take a deep breath, calming my nerves, and then steady the tray of sample cakes balanced precariously in my hands. This is it, Calla. Your big break into fine event cakes. Don't screw it up.

I'm so focused on not dropping my precious cargo that I miss a step on the porch stairs. The world tilts sideways as I stumble. My stomach lurches. Panic floods my veins. My heart leaps into my throat. But seconds before disaster can strike, strong hands catch me, stopping both me and the tray from dashing to the ground.

"Whoa there," a deep voice chuckles, “don't fall for me. ”

I look up into cool blue eyes, blinking as I take in the face of my savior. He has russet brown hair that’s just a bit too long, dazzling aqua eyes, a chestnut beard, and a wide, warm grin.

When I open my mouth but am unable to produce any meaningful sounds, he introduces himself. “Sorry. I’m Jay Rustin. I’m the groom.”

My face flushes as I realize I'm pressed against the very handsome, very well-known, very soon-to-be-married Jay. Great first impression, Calla.

"I-I'm so sorry," I stammer, quickly putting space between us. "Thanks for the save. These cake samples are irreplaceable."

Jay grins, his perfect teeth gleaming. "Happy to help. But I must say, I expected a little more enthusiasm about me catching you. Most women would probably die for a chance to trip directly into my arms.”

Is he... flirting with me? No, impossible. He's getting married in three days. This must be how he talks to everyone.

The last thing I want is for a bride to think I’m trying to steal her man, even if that man does happen to look like Prince Charming. This is my first shot at a big wedding. If I do well with this last-minute booking, I can expect more business to follow.

I roll my eyes and fire back with a measured quip, “Well, clearly I’m not most women. I’d rather dazzle you with my baking prowess than perform an acrobatic freefall. Though, believe me, tripping is practically my specialty.”

I climb the stairs carefully, watching my feet the whole time. I curse the pair of high heeled black pumps that I am wearing. I am a diehard Converse wearer, but today I decided to borrow pumps and put on a dress and cardigan despite the below-freezing temps. Clearly, I should stick to my navy-colored Chucks and leave the heels for women who are able to walk in them.

"After you, cake master," Jay says, offering the door with an air of unspoken irony.

Holy cow. As I step inside, I can't help but marvel at the picture-perfect interior. Beige walls, gray furniture, warm ivory accents in exactly the right places. Everything looks expensive and well-designed like it's straight out of a home decor magazine. Is this really how the other half lives?

Focus, Calla. You're here on business, not to gawk at how the rich and famous decorate their homes. Still, as Jay leads me through a gorgeous, incredibly comfortable-looking living room and into a kitchen straight out of Architect’s Digest, I can’t help but wonder what it must be like to live here.

Really nice , is all I can come up with. God, the kitchen is gorgeous. It’s got an enormous marble-topped island, bright yellow cabinets, and numerous fragile glass light fixtures hanging overhead that cast a warm glow throughout the room.

I steal a glance as Jay casually checks his watch while shedding his jacket. He probably has a schedule jam-packed with more “important” pursuits.

He wrinkles his nose . “Blake should be here any minute. She’s fashionably late by design. You know, to keep us mere mortals guessing.” There’s no overt punchline. It’s delivered flatly, leaving ambiguity as to whether it’s meant to be humorous.

"Is this her house, too?”

His lips twitch with humor. “No. In fact, Blake hates this house. She wants us to move into something more modern. I agreed to talk about it a year from now. ”

"She hates it?” Looking around with wide eyes, I whistle. “That’s sad. I’d be pretty pleased if this place was mine.”

“I find it cozy.” He raises both his hands in a who knows gesture. “Blake wants to build a new place. We’ll see what happens.”

Nodding, I set my tray down carefully on the immaculate kitchen island. “So,” I begin with a wry tilt to my tone, “shall we kick off these cake tastings? Starting with the vanilla bean, if that’s not too pedestrian for you?”

Jay leans against the counter, his casual posture at odds with the formal surroundings. "Absolutely. Though I have to warn you, I'm a tough critic. It takes a lot to impress me."

I raise an eyebrow, rising to the challenge. "Is that so? Well, prepare to have your taste buds blown away, Mr. Rustin. I didn't expand from cupcakes to wedding cakes to serve you mediocrity on a silver platter.”

He gives me a sheepish smile. “That was a fib. I actually know next to nothing about cakes. Do you mind if I take some pictures, though? This wedding is all about squeezing out content to keep the fans interested.”

“Of course!” I agree, my words coming out in a rush. “I’m doing this whole wedding for exposure, so take as many photos as you’d like. Just give me a heads up if I’m embarrassing myself.”

He smiles as he pulls out his phone. “Will do.”

As I begin arranging the samples, I can feel Jay's eyes on me . Stop it, Calla. He's not checking you out. He's probably just making sure you don't break anything expensive.

I clear my throat, pushing away the unwelcome thoughts. "This commission means a lot to me. It's my first big wedding cake, and I want everything to be perfect."

Jay is laser-focused on taking pictures of each square of cake. Without looking up, he says, "I'm sure it will be. From what I've heard about You Butter Believe It, you're the best in the city of Greater."

Greater is the small suburb of Atlanta, Georgia that I just moved to a few months ago. It’s by far the nicest place I’ve ever lived, with its mix of shops and restaurants surrounded by concentric rings of idyllic yards with stately Victorian homes.

So far, I love it.

Jay’s unexpected kindness catches me off guard, though. I duck my head, focusing on cutting perfect slices of each flavor. "That's... thank you. I just hope I can live up to the hype."

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

"Speaking of hype, how did you end up choosing my bakery? Greater's not exactly short on cake shops. There’s Slice Slice Baby, Bake My Breath Away, If It Bakes You Happy…" I pause. “God, what is wrong with all of the bakeries in this town? Our names are all such eye-rolling song title puns.”

“I’m sure yours is the best, though.” Jay's eyes twinkle mischievously. "Would you believe me if I said it was destiny?"

I snort, unable to help myself. "Not unless destiny smells like buttercream and has a terrible pun for a name."

He chuckles, a warm sound that sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. "Fair enough. Truth is, I don't really eat sweets. But I remember seeing your shop in the town square. Blake and I were having a… discussion after she fired the new cake baker. We were walking through the square and I thought… why not go with You Butter Believe It? Plus, you picked up when I called.”

"How romantic," I tease. “If stress and last-minute decisions count as romance. ”

“It was something, all right,” he mutters under his breath.

I finish setting up then check the time. We’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes. Ideally, both partners would taste all the cakes while I explained the flavor combinations. However, their wedding is in three days. If I don’t get started on their cake soon, it could be disastrous.

“When should we expect Blake?” I check my watch.

He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “That’s like asking me to predict the future. There is no way of knowing. She likes to keep people on their toes.”

His tone is thick with sarcasm even as he admits it.

That’s not great. And he looks so resigned as he says it. Yikes on trikes.

"All right," I announce, gesturing to the array of mini cakes. "We can get started, if you’re down with that. Let's focus on the vanilla bean first. It’s a flavor so classic that it borders on cliché?—"

"Actually," Jay interrupts, flashing me a smirk. "There is one flavor I'm particularly interested in. Do you make Berry Gentilly Lace cake?"

“No…” I blink, caught off guard. “Should I have?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only cake that I really crave, though.”

"I... haven't heard of it. But I can definitely look into it! What is it?"

As I make a mental note to research the recipe later, Jay's face lights up.

"It's incredible. I had it when I went to a wedding in New Orleans. It’s an almond cake with fresh berries and a whipped mascarpone cream frosting. It’s the perfect balance of sweet and tart, as light and fluffy as a cloud.” He puts his fingers to his mouth and makes a chef’s kiss gesture. “Perfection.”

“Sounds like I need to do some research.” I make a note on my phone that just says Berry Gentilly Lace???? I’m only half convinced that the handsome groom is just making things up to mess with me.

“I like that you seem game for the challenge.” His lips twitch.

Okay, now I’m like ninety percent certain that Jay is messing with me. I mumble, “Uh huh…”

He flaps a hand at me. “Since you seem to like outside the box thinking… what do you think about chartreuse for wedding decor? Blake hates it, but come on. It’s exciting, right?"

“I’m going to have to agree with Blake.” I chuckle, delighted. If all my wedding client meetings are like this one, I’m in for a world of fun. "Choose it if you want your guests to feel like they're inside a highlighter."

"That’s exactly what I want. I want my wedding to be memorable," Jay says dramatically. “Memorable, outrageous, and worth gold on Instagram.”

As we chat, I can't help but notice how easy it is to talk to Jay. He's nothing like I expected a wealthy lifestyle guru to be. He's funny, down-to-earth, and... well, pretty darn cute.

A traitorous thought sneaks in: I wonder if he has any equally charming (and single) brothers? Because I love this guy’s charisma. Too bad he’s taken.

I quickly shove that idea aside. Focus, Calla. You're here to bake a cake, not daydream about your client's family tree.

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open with a bang so loud I nearly drop the sample I'm holding. A statuesque blonde in a skin-tight leopard print dress storms in, her eyes narrowing as they flit between Jay and me.

"What's going on here?" she demands, her voice shrill.

Jay's easy smile fades. "Blake, honey, this is Calla. She's our new cake baker."

Blake's perfectly sculpted eyebrows shoot up. "New? What happened to the last one?"

"You fired her, remember?" Jay says gently. "And the one before that."

“I didn’t mean for her to take everything so personally!”

Jay frowns. “You told her that she should quit her job because the cake sample she offered was so terrible.”

“I was joking.” Blake sighs. “She should learn to toughen up.”

I feel my cheeks flush as I realize I'm the third baker they've gone through. Great. No pressure or anything. Their wedding is in hours, not weeks.

Blake's gaze locks onto me, scrutinizing. She seems to be making some calculations, though I don’t understand what she’s measuring. "Well, let's see what you've got then."

I straighten my spine, determined to stay professional. "Of course. I've prepared a variety of flavors for you to sample?—"

"I want something that changes color," Blake interrupts. "And edible glitter. Lots of it."

I blink, caught off guard. "I'm sorry. Did you say changes color?"

"Yes, obviously," Blake snaps. She looks down her perfect nose at me. "It needs to be Instagram-worthy. Can you do that or not?"

A cake that can change color? I’m not even sure that such technology exists. I open my mouth to respond, but Jay beats me to it .

"Blake, let's start with tasting the flavors Calla's prepared. We can discuss design elements after." He nudges a cake square toward her and offers her a fork with a sweet smile.

Jeez. I wish I had someone to soft-pedal bad news to me like that. Blake huffs but doesn't argue.

As I present each sample, she nitpicks every detail. Too sweet, too bland, too ordinary. With each criticism, I feel my confidence wavering.

Jay, sensing my discomfort, sneaks a bite of frosting and gives me an encouraging wink. "Delicious," he murmurs.

I can't help but smile, grateful for his support. But as I turn back to Blake, I catch her glaring at our interaction, her jaw clenched tight.

Oh boy, I think. This is going to be a long afternoon.

When I’ve introduced all but two flavors, Blake’s attention seems to wander. She pushes away a slice of cake and puts her fork down with incredible finality, as if she is about to make an announcement. But to my surprise, she instead whirls on Jay. Her eyes are gleaming with a manic intensity.

"Darling,” she says, her tone the same as if she were coaxing a skittish horse out of a barn stall. “We should talk social media strategy. How many of your Alto & Ash followers will be watching the live stream?"

I freeze. That certainly wasn’t the question I was expecting. And what’s this about a live stream? For a wedding?

Jay looks uncomfortable. "I haven't really thought about it."

"We need to maximize engagement!" Blake cuts him off, her voice rising with excitement. "Something jaw-dropping needs to happen every five minutes. Maybe we could have the cake explode glitter at regular intervals? "

I can't help but snort, then quickly try to cover it with a cough. Jay and Blake look at me as if I am somehow intruding on a private conversation. I wish like hell that they’d talk about social media strategy after I leave. My time is money, although not as much as I would guess Jay and Blake’s time is worth.

"Sorry, frosting fumes," I mutter. I fan the air, making a face.

Jay catches my eye, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Blake, I'm not sure that's a realistic plan."

"Don't you want this to be the wedding of the century?" Blake demands. “It’s like you don’t even care about viewership!”

I clear my throat, desperate to steer the conversation back to a more neutral topic. "Speaking of the wedding, I hear it's the talk of Greater. You must be so excited. Only three days away!"

Blake's attention snaps back to me. Her eyes narrow. "What's your point?"

"Well," I say, thinking fast. "Since it's such a big event, why don't we do something really special? I have an idea that might work. Both for the taste and the, uh, visual impact you're looking for." I can feel Jay's curious gaze on me as I continue. "What if we did a multi-tiered cake with different flavors in each layer? And then for the guests, we could do all-white cupcakes. Each will have a surprise flavor inside. It would be like a fun game for your followers. Guessing what's inside! Very Instagrammable."

Blake's expression shifts from skeptical to intrigued. "Hmm. That could work...."

I hold my breath, hoping she'll take the bait. Please let this work , I silently plead. I'm not sure my sanity can handle many more color-changing, glitter-exploding demands .

Jay's eyes light up. He turns to me with a grin. "That's brilliant, Calla.”

Before I can think of a response, Blake's icy voice cuts through the air. "Listen, you two," she hisses, her perfectly manicured nails digging into Jay's arm. "On my wedding day, I want everyone’s focus and attention to be on me . It’s my day to shine. You two are there to make sure of that. I need you to commit. If you can’t do that, Clara, I think that we need to find another baker."

There is a long beat where Jay and I are silent. I catch his eye, but he just shakes his head at me. His mouth presses into a thin line of displeasure as he turns to his bride-to-be. "Blake, that's enough," he says firmly, his easy-going demeanor evaporating. "This baker is here as a favor to us. We’re getting married in three days!! You already fired two bakers. There are no others to be had.” He pauses, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “If you fire Calla, the wedding's off. Period."

My jaw drops. Did he just...? I sneak a glance at Blake, whose face has gone from porcelain white to tomato red in seconds flat.

"You wouldn't dare," she sputters, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “We are the IT couple of Greater. Your fans love us together.”

“Oh?” Jay crosses his arms, his stance unwavering. "Try me."

The tension in the room is so thick I could frost a cake with it. I want to sink into the wood floor. But that’s not happening, so I’m stuck here, frozen.

Blake's gaze darts between Jay and me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she lets out a huff that could rival a steam engine. "Fine," she snaps, snatching up her designer handbag. "I don’t care which cake we choose. But if this ruins my wedding day, I’ll make sure you'll both regret it."

With that, she storms out of the room. I hear her high heels clacking through the living room and then the door slamming closed behind her.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Blake is frenetic and there seems to be no good way of letting her energy out. "Well, that was... intense," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Jay runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "I'm so sorry about that, Calla. Blake can be... a lot sometimes. She’s not all bad. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be marrying her."

Sometimes? I think. Seems like always. But I keep that thought to myself.

"It's okay," I assure him, even though my nerves are still jangling. "These things happen in the wedding business."

This is a lie. I don’t have any experience with crazy Bridezillas. But it seems to reassure Jay all the same.

His expression softens. "Still, I want to make it up to you. I promise I'll make sure your cake gets tons of attention at the wedding. I'll even film a short video about how much I loved it for Alto & Ash's social media."

My heart does a little flip at his thoughtfulness. "That's really kind of you, Jay. Thank you."

As he walks me to the door, I can't help but wonder what it would be like if things were different. If he wasn't engaged to a social media-obsessed Bridezilla. If we had met under different circumstances.

But I push those thoughts aside. After all, I'm just the baker. Nothing more.