Page 9 of Hell of a Mess

Eight

Lace

I had no idea if I’d ever decorated a cupcake before, but even with the handicap of one hand, I seemed to be good at it.

So much so that Jayda had stopped and watched me, then slid the rest of them over for me to do.

She swore mine looked professional and mentioned that I might own a bakery.

I liked that idea. Owning my own store. This had been fun.

The moment Linc walked into the kitchen, however, the good time seemed to sizzle into thin air, as if it had never been there. His presence made me nervous and uneasy. I glanced at Jayda to see she didn’t appear to feel the same way.

She smiled at him and held up a cupcake that she was about to eat. “I have treats for my sweets when she gets home. She’s been gone forever. How long does this dentist take to fill a cavity?”

Linc briefly cut his eyes at me, then back to her. “She’s not going to be coming back today. I need you to go pack her and Branwen’s suitcases for a visit to Ocala. They’ll need enough for a week, just to be safe.”

Jayda’s shoulders fell. “Ocala? But we made my famous dairy- and nut-free cupcakes, and Lace must be a professional decorator. They’re gorgeous.”

Linc’s focus was back on me, as if that bit of information was something he could use. And maybe he could. Maybe I did own a bakery or work at one. Although it didn’t feel familiar or spur any memory the way the mention of a horse had. I was feeling less hopeful about it.

“Package up the cupcakes, and I will take them to her. I’m sure they’ll enjoy them on the flight,” he said finally, turning back to Jayda.

She nodded and set her uneaten one down, then looked at me. “Help yourself to one. You deserve it after making them look like I paid for them. I wish I could see Stevie’s face when she sees the ones that look exactly like a sunflower.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t…I don’t think I like sweets.” Which would be another strike against my being a baker. Wouldn’t a baker like to eat the things she made?

Jayda looked aghast. “You don’t like sweets?”

I shrugged. “I guess I don’t. I, uh, don’t want one.”

“Well, before your memory fully returns, I need to fix that.”

A small laugh bubbled out of me at that comment, and she grinned.

“Luther is going to have you moved up here to his side of the house. Unless you are specifically in the west wing of the house, you are to be with Luther. You’re not to come to the kitchen or great room without him.”

“Ease off, warden.” Luther interrupted whatever else Linc was going to say as he walked past him and into the kitchen. He looked from me to Jayda, and then his eyes landed on the cupcakes. “Damn, Jayda, you went all out.”

“Jayda, go pack the girls’ things,” Linc ordered in a stern tone that made me jump.

Jayda frowned and glanced at Luther, who rolled his eyes as he made his way over to me—or rather, the cupcakes.

“I didn’t go all out. Lace is an icing artist,” Jayda told him just above a whisper, then cut her eyes back at Linc, who was walking away.

Relief at the sight of his back was instant.

“But she doesn’t like sweets. See if you can get her to take a bite while I go pack up their things.”

Luther nodded as he picked up a sunflower one.

Jayda slapped his hand and took it away from him. “Not the sunflower ones. Those will be Stevie’s favorite.”

“Which one can I fucking eat then?” he asked.

She studied them a moment, then picked up one that I had piped a cluster of stars on and placed a tiny pearl nonpareil at each tip. “Just because she doesn’t need to eat more than one of these. Not sure how the nonpareils will do with her tooth.”

He took it, and then his eyes moved up to meet mine. “This is impressive.”

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling my cheeks get warm. Why did I have to blush? I hadn’t gotten all awkward when Jayda complimented my decorating ability.

“Don’t eat more than one!” Jayda said on her way out of the kitchen. “Since they’re leaving, I’ll make your cookies.”

“Deal,” Luther replied as he leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed one ankle over the other. He began to take the wrapper off the cupcake in his hand. “How’s your head been?” he asked me.

“Fine.”

“No more pain?” His gaze lifted from his cupcake to meet mine.

I shook my head.

“Good,” he said, then held the cupcake out to me. “Take a bite.”

Although my earlier response to that had been no, I was willing to do anything this man asked of me.

But when I looked at it, an instant jolt of panic hit me.

Why was this upsetting me? I shook my head as my throat tightened with some unknown emotion.

My heart was literally racing over the thought of taking one bite of a cupcake.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting the cupcake on the counter and straightening back up from his relaxed stance.

I had no idea. As much as I didn’t want him to think I was a lunatic, I couldn’t stop it. I gasped for air.

He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, then tilted it up so he could look at my face.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he said, then leaned closer.

“Keep your eyes on mine. You’re okay. I’m not asking you to remember anything, and you don’t have to eat the cupcake.

” His voice deepened, and the reassurance in it immediately eased whatever craziness had been taking place.

I sucked in a breath, then let it out. I could breathe again. I wanted to gulp in more air, but I stopped myself from doing it. “Okay,” I whispered, not having an issue with staring at him. I liked having a reason to.

“They’re too damn pretty to eat anyway,” he said. “But I’m still gonna eat it.”

A small laugh bubbled out of me. The man had a magic voice. I’d gone from spiraling to calm just from his words or command.

He appeared pleased. “That’s better.” He released my face and leaned back on the edge of the counter again, but he didn’t stop watching me.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t know what that was.”

He picked back up his cupcake. “I’d say you really fucking hate cupcakes, but you can decorate the hell out of them.”

I laughed again as I watched him chew.

“Mmm, damn, that woman can bake,” he said with a slight moan that sent a shiver through me.

It made me want to try it, but after my reaction, it was best I didn’t.

“I have three guest bedrooms on my side of the house. I’ll have Jayda prepare the largest one for you. It’s got the best bathroom. You’re getting around better, and you don’t need a hospital bed anymore. Might as well move upstairs.”

On one hand, I was relieved I wasn’t going to have to go back to the basement after getting to go outside and be around other people all day. There wasn’t always someone down there with me, and it got lonely. Especially once I stopped taking the heavy pain meds and no longer slept all the time.

On the other hand, I was nervous about being up here.

Linc was clearly not happy about it. Although he’d said I would be on Luther’s side of the house.

Even knowing Linc didn’t want me up here, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Luther it was best I stay downstairs.

My desire to be around him overrode all else.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked, and I realized I’d not said anything.

“Oh…well, thank you. I am just…I mean, I’d like that. But Linc…he seems angry about it.”

Luther finished off his cupcake and dusted his hands before crossing his arms over his wide chest. “Linc can be paranoid and overprotective of his girls. Ignore him.”

When I didn’t say anything, he nodded his head toward the door. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour of the west wing. Otherwise known as the better one.”

“Better?” I asked.

“Yes, because that’s where I live, so it’s obviously the better side of the house.”

How big was this house? And was it even that? From what I’d seen already, it felt more like a mansion. It had wings inside it.

“Of course,” I replied. “How silly of me.”

The corner of his mouth curled up at my quip, which had honestly surprised me.

I was getting more comfortable around him.

He still made me feel all weird and fluttery, but he also made me happy, and that seemed new to me.

It was my memory loss, I was sure. I’d not had anything to be happy about since waking up without knowledge of my life or who I was.

But other emotions didn’t seem so foreign.

“I’m curious about your name. If Lace is short for something else,” he said, changing the subject.

“I…I don’t know. But I’ve wondered the same thing,” I told him.