sexy-cupcakes

Josh squeezed her arm. ____l behave,_ he murmured. __or now._ She__ going to pickle your cucumbers._ __e has more than one?_ Natalie whispered. __hat__ between me and Kimmie,_ Josh replied.

In the third cabinet under the counter, she hit the good stuff. __h! You have a KitchenAid._ __f you__e planning on caressing my mixer, you should know that might make my testicles explode,_ he said from behind her. Her cheeks went hot enough to glow. __hat would be awkward.

He was the most handsome nightmare she had ever met.

He was sort of Kimmie__ boss. And he wasn__ just a thorn in General Mom__ side _ he was a whole stinking rosebush. If the rosebush were six feet of hunky, cake-blaspheming, rich playboy.

Her eyes slid closed, her secret places pulsed in anticipation, and his lips settled onto the skin beneath her ear. That was magic. She held perfectly still. He pressed a kiss to her neck. Then another, lower. A third, even lower. She squirmed. He dropped his hands. __orry. I---_ __on__ stop,_ Kimmie whispered.

A fake ring. A fake engagement. Fake love. Everything was fake. Shiny and put together on the outside, empty on the inside.

Speaking of cupcakes, Will wants two dozen off your special menu to take on the road after the wedding._ __he, erm, peach kind?_ __he peach kind,_ Lindsey said. __ like the peach kind,_ Josh said. Mikey had named them Sex on a Peach. And they were Kimmie__ second biggest seller, after the Hairy Dicks, which were coconut cake balls strategically placed with Dahlia__ chocolate-covered, ice cream-filled bananas. And Josh__ frown had disappeared, and now he was grinning as if he knew it. All of it.