Epilogue
CHELSEA
Three weeks later
The bakery sale somehow made national headlines and things went a little nuts after the auction.
Bradley only told me later about his dipping into his trust fund for the residue of what he went over at the auction.
At first I thought he’d gone crazy, and I felt bad about it, but he reassured me that this is something he would have wanted to do anyway, even if it hadn’t been Sweet Confetti, but I don’t know if that is entirely true.
Regardless, things have only gotten better between us, and he’s pretty much been a permanent fixture at our place since he took me to my parents that night after our garage escapades.
It’s something Brad has been talking about making a regular thing.
I wouldn’t say the Porsche is exactly roomy, but it’s fun to be a little spontaneous sometimes.
With the popularity of Sweet Confetti’s sudden fame, I was featured on the local news earlier in the week with the auction story.
I only agreed to do it if Brad would be there with me — he is my business partner now, after all.
None of it has been bad for either of our businesses or popularity stakes.
People really seemed to love and appreciate the story of a single mom doing it tough, and almost being sold out to god knows who, only to have her best friend from high school, turned lover, swoop in and save her livelihood.
It’s all been a little crazy around here, and work has picked up even more.
The first thing Brad and I agreed on was hiring a full-time assistant manager, one who is hands on enough to do most of the serving out front and keep everything running smoothly.
We’ve also hired another baker so I could take a step back and do the over-seeing and quality control.
Mom is still working mornings and helps over the weekends doing a bit of everything.
She knows it’s flexible and can scale back any time she wants to.
Everything is running well, and now I have a chance to do some other things for the school, like having some of the kids over to do some baking classes, and organizing the next charity bake sale for Deaton’s school.
I’m turning my focus to creating custom cakes, just like I did for Bobby’s birthday, and now seems like the perfect time to do it.
Deaton was super pumped that we didn’t have to find a new place to live and a new shop for the bakery, nor did he have to change schools, so it’s safe to say that everything has worked out perfectly.
To my utter shock, Bon Appetite magazine called just yesterday and wants to feature my triple chocolate funfetti cake and my best-selling butterfly vanilla cupcakes in a future edition coming up.
I was shocked beyond belief and just so happy and overwhelmed by the response to my humble little bakery’s success.
It’s a lifelong dream that just seems to be getting better and better.
Deaton has been over the moon about Brad and I getting together.
He loves seeing him a whole lot more than he did before, and granted, that already was quite a bit.
Brad takes Deaton for a ride in the Porsche any chance he can get.
And he picks him up every Thursday now and takes him to soccer practice.
Brad always manages to swipe a few red velvet treats for him and Deaton to enjoy later on after practice.
Though I’m suspicious that they will eat them on the way.
I usually meet them there to watch the practice game, and luckily have dodged the mom posse since Brad and I went public.
Having a man like Brad in my life has changed everything.
It’s opened up a whole world of possibilities, and without jumping the gun too much, we have been talking about the future and where we want to be.
Deep down I know I want more kids, and even though I once vowed I’d never get married again, being Brad’s wife is something that fills me with excitement and joy, not fear and worry anymore.
I know he’s nothing like my ex, and he’s the father figure Deaton has never had, more than his biological dad has ever been.
My friends adore him, and my parents couldn’t be happier.
Tonight I’m meeting Brad’s mom, Ella, for the first time. We’re all going out for dinner with my parents, and I’m nervous, but looking forward to it. She seems lovely from what Brad has told me, and amazing that she has such a good relationship with Tristan, even though they divorced years ago.
“Don’t look now, but here comes your man in that gray sweatsuit,” Bea mutters under her breath. We’re having a coffee and a catch up in the bakery after closing time. Morgan, Ali and Lexi popped in, and my mom is here too, but she’s still out back cleaning some of the kitchen stuff away.
“Tristan told me he’s assisting the coach with the kids’ soccer team?
” Ali asks as I put a fresh batch of chocolate croissants in the middle of the table, direct from the oven, and straighten my apron out for good measure.
I know there’s always a strong possibility that I will have flour or something stuck in my hair, but Brad is used to it by now.
“Yes, he’s been quite a hit with the kids since he started dropping off Deaton and staying to watch the practice games,” I say. “And any chance to see him in those sweats, I’ll take it.”
Everyone laughs.
“You definitely tamed the wild beast,” Lexi says. “I’m so happy for you both. And you got to keep the bakery.”
“Me too.” Morgan claps her hands together. “I know it got really intense there for a while.”
“Thank you, it’s been a whirlwind.” I smile. “The dust is starting to settle, maybe then I’ll believe it’s actually real.”
“We need to have a girls’ night,” Bea declares. “And celebrate properly, especially with this new magazine offer.”
“That sounds like a good idea once I get the shoot out of the way this weekend,” I agree, just as the back door swings open and Brad and Deaton come bursting in.
Deaton runs straight over and starts telling us about practice and what he got up to during the day.
I lean down to give Deaton a kiss and immediately smile up at Brad, and he gives me a wink.
“Ladies.” He nods by way of greeting. “Looks like Deat and I arrived at the right time.”
“Perfect timing.” I smile as he wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. I’m still getting used to everything being out in the open with us, even though we’ve been pretty much inseparable since the auction.
“I just need to steal Chels away for a second,” Brad says as we both watch Deaton reach over to the big plate in the center of the table to grab a spare croissant.
“I bet you do.” Bea winks. I don’t miss her and Morgan share a little giggle.
I try to shush them with my eyes, but they just laugh it off.
“Deat and I have a surprise for you,” he says, though Deaton’s made himself quite at home in one of the little booth seats with Ali and Lexi to eat his snack.
“Do tell.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“You have to come out to your minivan with me,” he says.
The girls all make cooing noises, and Deaton joins in as Brad takes me by the hand and leads me up the hallway to the back door.
He waves to my mom as we by-pass the kitchen, and as soon as we’re outside he pulls me into him and pushes me up against the brick wall of the bakery.
His lips find mine at the same time his hips press into me.
“Happy to see me?” I murmur as we get all hot and breathy in a matter of seconds.
“Always.” He nuzzles into my hair and I stretch my arms around his neck. We make the most of the free moment together, because no doubt the minute my son finishes his croissant, he’ll come find us.
“Well, I’m always happy to see you in that snazzy Wanderers sweatsuit.”
“I’m one of the team now.” He grins. “There’s no getting rid of me.”
I laugh. “Like any of us would want to.”
“Wanna see your surprise?”
“I thought you’d ever ask.”
He pushes off the wall and walks me over to the minivan.
“Honey, if you think we’re going to get away with a quickie—” I’m about to tell him he can think again, when he pulls the door open in one swoop to reveal a backseat full of pink rose bouquets and pink and white balloons bobbing around. Pink roses are my absolute favorite.
My hands fly up to my face. “What is this for?” I cry excitedly.
He wraps his arms around me from behind, his keen erection digging into the crease of my butt. “An early birthday present for next week, just a little taster of what’s to come. Deat and I thought it would be fun to see how many dozen roses and pink balloons we could fit into the van.”
My eyes bug wide at the sight. This must’ve cost him a king’s ransom, but he clearly doesn’t care. “This is so sweet and thoughtful, and—”
“Over the top?”
“Yes. Kinda. But you never do anything by halves.”
“Not when it comes to loving you. And I figure you can use them in the shop and around your apartment. Maybe even for your photoshoot.”
I turn my head to reach up to him, and we kiss slow and deep. There’s always that promise of more with him, and it sends little flutters to my stomach, and lower. “That and everyone else’s apartment I’ve ever known.”
He only laughs at this. “Hey, you said you girls wanted to have a bakery celebration and film the cakes for the magazine with some props. I just brought the flowers and balloons.”
“You’re so perfect.” I turn in his arms, and he picks me up off my feet as we canoodle right in the doorway of the minivan.
If my mom, son and my friends weren’t inside right now, I’d try to make some space between the flowers and balloons and pull him in here onto the back seat.
I want to show him exactly what this soccer mom has in mind for the remainder of the evening.
He shakes his head and kisses my nose. “Nope. You are, Mama.”
Bradley
One year later
I’ve been pacing outside the bathroom door to my ensuite for what seems like an eternity.