Muscles & Monsters

"Always the baker and never the bride." I sighed to myself, stepping back from the three circular cake tiers lining the counter. They gradually increased in size, the biggest about the size of a tire.

Per the bride's request, it was going to be a massive three-tiered red velvet cake slathered in textured cream cheese icing, large enough to feed the entire town of Briar Glenn. Because of the size, I'd assemble it on-site at the wedding venue tomorrow morning.

This particular wedding cake was for the mayor's daughter, Jessica, who just so happened to have graduated high school with me. She was marrying a satyr who worked in finance, and in the spirit of supporting local businesses, they'd hired me to bake the wedding cake. It was an honor, really-but I couldn't help the stinging jealousy I felt every time I thought about their upcoming nuptials.

Here she was getting married while I spent every waking moment of my life working at the bakery. So much, in fact, that my last relationship ended because of it. My girlfriend of two years just couldn't handle my dedication to the family business. She gave me an ultimatum-her or the bakery. Of course I chose the bakery. At this point, I had pretty much resigned myself to being a childless cat lady. Not that there was anything wrong with that-it just wasn't the white picket fence, two-point-five kids, and ridiculously attractive partner that I had dreamed of since I was a little girl.

Selene, my bakery assistant and one of my closest friends, joined me in admiring my work. "They came out perfect, Tegs. Just like they do every time. I don't know how you do it."

And they were perfect. Nice and even with no cracks, the icing smooth and level.

"Pastry school and years of practice under the most hard-ass baker I know," I said, wiping my sugar-coated hands on my apron.

She laughed, warm and raspy. "Don't talk about Mama Rollins like that."

"It's true! In the kitchen, she's not the sweet lady you know her to be, I can tell you from experience."

After my father's death a year ago, my mother retired, and I inherited the Briar Glenn Bakery. Before that, my grandmother ran the bakery. A legacy of women business owners here in the tiny town of Briar Glenn, one I was happy to continue. Even if it meant I had no work-life balance.

"I am beat," Selene said, leaning against the counter and wiping her forehead.

She'd been quieter today, none of her playful teasing or upbeat singing. Just silently working on the backup sheet cake for the wedding on the off chance there was a catastrophe. In all the years I'd worked at the bakery, that had yet to happen, but my mother always drilled it into my head that we needed to have some sort of backup plan-just in case. For the mayor's daughter's wedding, the biggest social event of the year, I wasn't taking any chances.

"Are you okay?" I asked, taking in Selene's flushed cheeks and dewy skin.

I kept the bakery cold to keep the icing from melting, and it had been hours since I ran the oven . . .

"I'm just not feeling great."

"Why didn't you say something earlier? I could have finished this on my own."

"Well, I need the hours and you have enough on your plate as it is."

Selene had only been working with me for a few months, but she'd picked things up quickly. I could rely on her to work on smaller orders like premade birthday cakes, while I worked on large orders like wedding cakes and special-order baked goods. She really had a knack for baking.

Much to the dismay of her parents, Selene was taking some time off from college. At the ripe age of twenty-two, she had plenty of time to go back and finish her engineering degree, and I was thankful for the help.

Even with the eight-year age difference between us, we'd become close. And working with Selene was a hell of a lot better than asking my mom to help out part-time. Pam Rollins had just passed me the reins. I wasn't about to let her micromanage the way I was running my business.

"Did you still want to go to the diner for dinner?" I asked, hoping Selene would join me. Outside of Sunday dinners at my mom's house, I'd been having one too many meals alone lately.

"Rain check on that one. I want to make sure I rest up for tomorrow. There's no way you can handle that behemoth on your own."

"Just let me know. I think I can manage it just fine."

"I'll be there. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be late for the wedding."

"Fuck," I huffed. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Stupidly, I'd put myself down for a plus-one, thinking I could use the fact that the wedding was open bar to coerce Selene into going with me. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Apparently, she'd won tickets to see her favorite band and the concert was the same night as the wedding.

"Isn't Declan going?"

I snorted. "Not a chance. He hooked up with Jessica's brother, Brendan, a few years ago; and while it was just a fling for Dec, Brendan took it really hard. Moved to Cincinnati, and this is his first time back in town since."

Selene grimaced. "Sounds about right for Dec. Guess you're flying solo, then."

"Couldn't I just"-I shrugged, making a face-"not go?"

She pinned me with a stare, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. She might not have been feeling well, but her makeup was still on point. "Your mom is going to give you serious shit if you don't go."

I groaned. "Fine. Fine." There was already tension between me and my older brother; I didn't need it with my mother, too.

Selene gathered the icing-crusted tools and tossed them in the sink.

"I've got those," I said, already reaching for the dish soap.

"But-"

I cut her off. "Go home. Boss's orders."

She tugged off the bandana covering her hair, letting her bouncy brown curls free. "If you insist."

Honestly, I expected more of an argument. She really wasn't feeling well.

"What time should I be here tomorrow to load up the cake?"

"The venue is letting me in at nine, so probably eight thirty? I want to get it out of the way so I'm not rushing to get ready for the wedding."

"You mean you're not going to assemble the cake in your dress?" she teased.

"I don't think it would shock anyone if I did, but no, I'm going to go home and get ready after."

"What are you going to wear?"

"I was thinking maybe that emerald green dress you forced me to buy when it was on sale around Christmas." I said forced, but in reality I'd been obsessed with the dress since the moment I tried it on. Selene just gave me the push I needed to actually drop that kind of money on a piece of clothing-even if it was on sale. "I haven't had a chance to wear it yet." And I was dying to.

She clapped her hands together, brightening up a little bit. "Oh, the pinup one! That'll be perfect for the wedding. Your ass looks so good in that dress."

It really did.

"If I have to go, I might as well look hot while doing it."

"Love that mindset for you." She hugged my shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. "I'll see you in the morning. Tell Dec I said hi."

"Will do. Try not to be late," I shouted after her.

She slipped out the back door, leaving me in the absolute worst place to be: alone with my thoughts.

As the warm water turned my hands red and the icing swirled around the drain, I couldn't help but feel like it was a metaphor for my love life.

I'd spent so much time devoting myself to the bakery, making sure it had continued success now that it had switched hands, that I felt like I was falling behind in the other aspects of my life.

I wanted to have someone to go home to. A reason to hurry out of the bakery in the evenings. I wanted to have someone to rely on other than myself, someone to take control every once in a while so I could get out of the endless to-do list that reeled through my head.

To find that person, I was going to have to make some serious changes to my life. It wasn't going to be easy.

Once I was finished cleaning up, I locked the shop and started down Main Street toward the neon-blue beacon of Dale's Diner. It was a Briar Glenn staple, the quintessential small-town greasy spoon serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If anything could cure me, it was an emotional-support bacon double cheeseburger and a hot plate of fries.

The overhead bell tinkled when I stepped inside, drawing the attention of every patron lining the counter and filling the booths.

"Hey," I said, giving a little wave.

One of the downsides of living in a small town was the fact that you knew everyone, they knew you, and both of you knew everything about each other.

But these days, I didn't exactly know everyone.

Over the past year, Briar Glenn had experienced a lot of growth thanks to the mayor's revitalization initiative. It was a program that provided grants and incentives for relocating to the town or starting a business. And it was working.

Every month it felt like there were more and more unfamiliar faces, more homes being built, and more businesses popping up. While I generally wasn't a fan of change, I was happy to see the town grow while still maintaining its charm.

A few waves and murmured hellos greeted me as I made my way to my favorite booth. It was tucked in the back corner, next to a vintage jukebox that had been there since the diner first opened. There was enough noise to drown out your conversation from listening ears, and the wide window gave you a clear view down Main Street for prime people watching.

No sooner had my ass touched the vinyl seat than a familiar voice cooed from the kitchen, "Is that my girl?"

One of the waitresses, Connie, who had known me since I was born, set a fresh fountain Sprite down in front of me. "Yeah, it's her," she shouted in her gravelly smoker's voice, rolling her eyes.

The eye roll wasn't for me-but for what happened next.

A squeal sounded from the kitchen, followed by the swinging doors bursting open to reveal my best friend and resident chef of the diner, Declan.

Our parents were old friends, and it was decided that Dec and I would be friends before we were even born. From our first steps, to T-ball games, to our emo phase as teenagers, we did all of it together. I loved him just as much as-and at the present moment, more than-my own brother.

Dec was wearing his typical line chef uniform. A grease-splattered apron stretched across his chubby belly, and striped chef pants completely clashed with the tie-dye nonslip Crocs on his feet. A hairnet clung to his dark brown hair, and a special one covered his full beard.

He looked absolutely ridiculous. Like if Zach Galifianakis was moonlighting as a fry cook.

"Why don't you just shave that thing off?" I asked, reaching for his beard.

Dec swatted my hand away. "No way. It makes me look rugged." He slipped off the beard hairnet and ran his fingers through the thick bush sprouting from his face.

"You? Rugged?" It was hilarious considering I couldn't even get Dec to go for a hike around the lake, let alone a camping trip.

"I will take this burger right back to the kitchen, missy," he said, sliding the plate away from me. "No more comp meals for you."

"No." I grabbed his hand. "I need this today."

Like me, he'd inherited the family business from his father, Dale. The one the diner was named after. For a long time Dec debated changing the name, but Declan's Diner didn't quite have the same ring to it. And all the locals would have still called it Dale's anyway.

"That's what I thought." My bestie shimmied into the booth, his brows pinching together as he stared at me. "Why so glum, chum? You've got this sour-ass look on your face."

"I just got done putting the finishing touches on Jessica's wedding cake."

"Oh, that's right. Little Miss Silver Spoon herself is getting married tomorrow."

"Declan." I swatted his arm, thankful no one could hear us over the classic rock ballad blaring from the jukebox.

"What?" He laughed. "An extravagant wedding and a brand-new house in Briar Lakes that her daddy paid for. Everyone knows she's a spoiled brat."

"Yeah, she is, but at least she found someone to spend her life with, even if he is a finance bro. That's more than we can say."

"Excuse me," he said, affronted. "I'm single by choice."

"Is a fear of commitment a choice?"

When we were in our early twenties, Dec had his heart broken by his first real boyfriend, and he'd never truly recovered from it. He acted like he preferred hookup culture, but I knew it was a defense mechanism. He was afraid of getting hurt again.

Dec ignored the question, strategically steering the conversation back to me. "What about that cute centaur couple that moved onto your street?"

"Dec!" I snorted. "They're married."

He shrugged. "Throuples are a big thing these days. You could be their unicorn in a more literal sense."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't sure I could make time for one partner, let alone two. "You're terrible."

He snatched a fry from my plate, chewing it as he said, "You know. If you weren't so invested in the bakery, you could meet someone."

I scoffed. "You're one to talk." In addition to the whole fear-of-commitment thing, Dec was another workaholic. Maybe he was onto something with hookup culture.

"This isn't about me."

"I'm gonna make time soon." I hoped that if I said it enough, I'd will it into reality.

Dec saw right through me. "Hmm. Sounds like bullshit to me."

"Shut up."

"On that note, I better get back," he said, sliding out of the booth with some difficulty. He tugged the beard net on and I bit back a smile. I couldn't take him seriously with that thing on. "Pop in the kitchen before you leave, okay? I'll pack up a slice of pie for you to go."