Series: Little Cakes Series by Pepper North
Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Ellie giggled. So did Riley.
Sue groaned and turned around to head back to the front of the shop, mumbling, “How does everyone else have such incredible luck with men?”
Ellie was nearly bouncing. She ignored Sue to fire off questions. “Did you get his number? Was he hot? Is he the one?”
Tori couldn’t keep her hands from shaking as she reached for her apron. “Goodness, no.”
“No to what?” Riley asked. “You didn’t get his number? He wasn’t hot? Or he isn’t the one?” she teased.
Tori swallowed hard. “Do I look like I could ask a man for his number without tripping over myself?” She glanced down and took a deep cleansing breath. “Yes, he was hot.” She finally lifted her gaze. These women were coworkers but they were also her friends. The best friends she had. If she could tell anyone about her experience it would be them. “Doesn’t matter. He has no idea who I am or where I work. I’ll never see him again,” she informed them.
Ellie grinned and reached out to pluck the front of Tori’s shirt right where the Little Cakes logo rested. “I’m pretty sure he knows where you work.”
Tori groaned, swiped a hand over her face, and attempted to tuck her curls behind her ears. She headed for the front of the store with her head held high. Time to forget Evan the photographer. “We have cupcakes to sell,” she declared.
Chapter Two
“Get a grip on yourself,” Evan grumbled to himself as he stuck his camera into his backpack and took a deep breath. He was at the park again today. It had been three days since he’d met the sweet, curly-haired artist on this very park bench.
Evan had come here every day since at lunchtime, hoping to find her sketching again, but she hadn’t returned. Maybe she doesn’t want to see you again.
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t find her. He glanced in the direction she’d fled three days ago and took a deep breath. She’d been wearing a shirt with the logo of the Little Cakes shop in the corner.
Do it, he coaxed himself in a mental pep talk. Evan wasn’t usually this cautious when approaching a woman. He didn’t have any trouble getting dates. Often, women fawned over him. However, the short time he’d spent with Tori had resonated inside him. What was it about her? It was as if she was calling his inner Daddy.
Tori, the adorable woman with the precious curls framing her face had fully captured his attention. Her flushed cheeks and shy demeanor tugged at him. The only piece of the puzzle that would be icing on the cupcake would be if she were Little.
That was wishful thinking, of course. What were the chances? Just because she was shy and tripped over her words and had trouble meeting his gaze did not mean she was Little. Something about her though…
There were subtle hints. Her sketchpad had been the sort a child would own. The front wasn’t navy or tan or maroon. He had no idea what color it might have been because it had been covered in stickers. All kinds of stickers. Unicorns, butterflies, and teddy bears stood out in his memory.
In addition, a few of the pages in her sketchbook had been doodles of stuffies. They were ones she’d been sketching here at the park, so they’d been sitting on the bench or dangling from a child’s hand or swinging on the swing sets. He’d seen a teddy bear, a bunny with floppy ears, and a shy little turtle with its head barely peeking out.
There was another factor that made him think he could be right, however, and it was powerful. He knew the owner of Little Cakes was a member of Blaze and a Little. In addition, the dungeon master, Tarson, worked as the baker. That didn’t mean every single employee was Little or knew the owner was, but it certainly did increase the chances.
Could Tori be Little?
Okay, enough waiting for her to come to him. Today, man. You are going to buy a cupcake today.
Evan wasn’t the nervous type. Never. But something about Tori felt important. He was dragging his feet because he didn’t want his vision of who she could be shattered. He’d been searching for his Little for a very long time. Evan hated to think his desire to find the perfect woman had made him connect the dots to come up with an entirely false conclusion.
His imagination had run wild for the last seventy-two hours. Evan couldn’t shake the snapshots that ran through his mind. Tori curled up in his lap while he ran his fingers through those fucking amazing curls. Tori sitting in his bathtub, blinking up at him with those sexy hazel eyes. Tori curled up in his nursery, her thumb in her mouth, a stuffie tucked against her chest.