Page 53 of Sweet Hate (If You Dare #1)

HAVEN

T hanks to Axel’s little motivational interlude, I managed to rally and finish the Merryweather wedding cakes.

They opted for three different flavors across two cakes.

The main showstopper was huge. Ten tiers, alternating between vanilla confetti and lemon flavors. Iced in all white fondant, monogrammed with their initials, and I added hand-sculpted white and gold fondant orchids cascading down.

The second was a naked red velvet cake, decorated with red roses.

Axel had been a total angel and helped me deliver them this past weekend and thankfully they loved them. They haven’t stopped raving about them.

Since then, there’s been a media frenzy surrounding their cakes and the reopening of the bakery. I won’t lie, it has my palms breaking out in a sweat.

I was hoping to soft launch the reopening, ease myself into it, but this has made that impossible.

It’s become a very public declaration that Baker Blake’s— yes , that’s his real name—daughter is back in town to run Sweet Bakes. And thanks to my very minor celebrity status from back home, people are talking about traveling to Sweet Haven to review and compare it to my dad’s.

I’ve barely slept the last few nights, stressing over the very public risk of crashing and burning when I reopen and worrying about people’s opinions.

But I’m trying to push all that out of my head because today is Valentine's Day.

It’s traditionally a huge day for bakery sales, and I’m distracting myself by icing some of Axel's favorite Funfetti cupcakes.

Just thinking of Axel has my blood bubbling in excitement.

Spending Valentine’s Day with him and thoughts of what we’ll do later instantly turns me on.

Horny Haven is more then ready to take the wheel.

I squeeze my thighs together and focus on breathing.

Now isn’t the time to be thinking about that.

It’s not just what we’ll do after that has me so stoked, though. He’s showing me the finished bakery today. I’ve not been able to get in there for weeks now, and I’m bursting at the seams to see it.

Patience is a virtue, but I’m not sure I possess it. Where is he?

He didn’t give me an exact time, and not knowing is driving me slightly mad. I’ve already made a million wardrobe changes, manic cleaned the Airbnb, and last minute baked a whole batch of cupcakes, I’m not entirely sure what else I should do.

My eyes snag on the firefighter romance Axel bought me.

I could read a little to kill some time, at least. I started it last night and didn’t want to put it down.

Hilariously, the story revolves around a local fireman and a small-town baker.

Is that a coincidence? Serendipity? Or did Axel choose it deliberately?

That would mean he just sat in the bookstore reading blurbs until he found it. I wish I knew the ladies who own it well enough to ask. Just the thought of him looking at countless firefighter romances to find one with a baker in it has me giggling.

I mean, it also has me ready to rip off my panties and jump his bones, but then what else is new?

He’s turned into a seriously swoony cinnamon roll with some hot as hell alpha vibes. Not that he knows what that means.

My phone chimes just as I swipe the book off the table and I toss it on the floor in excitement.

Axel

On my way cupcake queen. I hope you’re ready to see your new kingdom.

Nervous butterflies erupt in my tummy, which is totally ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel nervous about. It will all be new and great, and I can finally get in there and figure my shit out.

Before I can spiral too far, I hear a knock at the door and swing it open to see Axel leaning on the wall with that damn sexy smirk on his face, roses, and my pink cold cup in his hands.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Flowers or coffee?” he rocks them in his hands before holding them out to me, and I can’t help but drag him down by his Henley to plant a chaste kiss on his handsome face.

We haven’t really discussed or acknowledged the day itself, so his thoughtfulness has me melting into a pile of goo.

We’re both quiet in his truck as he drives us the short distance to the bakery, with my hand gripping his thigh. We’re just pulling into the parking lot when the riot of butterflies returns with a vengeance.

He lifts me out of his truck, which I’m loving a little too much these days. The flutter I get when he manhandles me like a doll guarantees I’ll have to burn my feminist card.

Worth it .

His eyes sparkle with mischief, although he looks a little nervous too.

Oh god, why is he nervous?

“Ready for your surprise, Sprinks?” His nerves are quickly replaced with a wide grin as he slips his big, warm hand in mine.

“Sure am, Fireman.”

He picks up on my fake bravado with a quirk of his brow but doesn’t comment on it as he leads me to the back door and pulls me through.

“OK, close your eyes.”

I do as he says, and he tugs me in front of him, looping his arms around my waist to walk us in together. His warm muscles against my back and the way he circles my waist calm my nerves and give me a different set of flutters—in London, we call those fanny flutters .

I have to stifle the urge to giggle at that reminder.

“You can open your eyes, babe.”

When I do, we're standing in the newly renovated kitchen, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes me as I slowly spin in his arms to take it all in.

Gleaming stainless-steel countertops and sparkling white cabinets. Pink and white subway tiles run halfway up the wall above them, with shiny black glass industrial appliances. He’s even changed the floor tiles, replacing them with white stone that glitters under the overhead lights.

“Oh my God, Axel. Are you serious right now? This is incredible!”

I turn to look up at his face, blurry with tears I hadn’t realized were coming.

I was expecting new appliances, but I thought he’d just recreate what was here before. The little touches he’s added for me have my heart tripping. He’s even got another bunch of pink roses sitting on the island .

Brushing his thumb under my eye to swipe away a tear that slipped out, his warm, callused hands cradle my face.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, but his voice comes out a little husky, a myriad of emotions running across his face that he isn’t bothering to hide. I see his hope and affection. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before turning me in his arms and leading me to the door.

“There’s more.”

It’s only then that I notice the new white door with a porthole window separating the kitchen from the front of the bakery, but the window is covered in some sort of paper.

The nerves have completely vanished, and excitement is pulsing through my veins.

I can’t wait to see everything else this amazingly thoughtful man has done.

His hand splays across my tummy, pulling me flush to him for a second so he can nuzzle my neck and plant a kiss there.

“Go ahead, Sprinks. I’ll be right behind you.”

I fly forward and push open the door, and then my jaw drops. I freeze, awestruck. My hands cover my mouth as I walk in, totally silent as I take in every new detail.

Gone are the beige walls, drab counters, and mismatched tearoom vibe furniture.

Axel has literally created my dream bakery, plucked straight off my Pinterest board.

Pastel pink and white candy stripe wallpaper lines the walls above white paneling. The same glittery white floor tiles run through from the back.

The countertops are white glitter quartz, with shiny glass and chrome modern cake displays running along both sides.

Behind the counter, he’s added arched shelving inset in pink, perfect to display jars of sweet treats.

The same wallpaper runs along the front of the island where the register is, with soft underlighting flowing throughout .

The booths now feature glittering white tables with pink and white linoleum seats.

He’s even found a retro pink jukebox, he set up by the door alongside a pink gumball machine.

Paper still covers the windows but I still spot the pink and white stripe blinds that match the accent walls. It’s then that I notice the matching bakery boxes stacked off to the side of the counter alongside a pastel pink espresso machine.

He has thought of every last detail.

Tears stream down my face as I keep circling on the spot, taking in something new with every pass while Axel leans in the doorway watching me.

“Do you like it, Sprinks?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.

I spin to face him, my legs shaking and my head so dizzy, I drop my ass to the floor.

Axel is crouched in front of me in a millisecond, cradling my face in his hands again.

“Baby? You OK?” His anxious eyes roam my face as he swipes away my tears with his thumbs and brushes my hair back off my face.

A nod is all I can manage as I try to find the words to tell him just how much I love it.

When we were kids, I used to tell him I wanted to open a bakery just like Grams’, but that mine would be pink and white and have all these things.

He remembered everything, right down to the freakin’ gumball machine.

I’m so overcome with emotion, I just lunge at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, knocking him back on his ass where I straddle him.

“How did you remember all of this?” I whisper against his lips .

“Sprinks, when it comes to you, I don’t forget a thing. Not a word you say. Not a sound you make. Not a wish you dream.”

His lips ghost my hairline, planting soft kisses down to my ear.

“From the very first moment I saw the five-year-old you sitting on top of that counter with your cute little freckled face, adorable pigtails, and that pink Band-Aid on your knee, you stole the show. Even then I wanted to be around you. Give you everything you could want or need. I knew then…” He pauses and sucks in a deep breath.

“I knew then I’d met my best friend for life.

And that I’d do anything to make her smile.

Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful. I hope this surprise was worth the wait. ”

His words, this entire surprise, everything is just so overwhelmingly perfect I want to squeeze him tight and never let him go.

And because I don’t have enough words, I pull him to me by his collar and frantically kiss him until we’re both breathless.