Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) by Katana Collins (latest books to read TXT) 📕

She needed time. Time to get over Dan. Time to move on and feel ready and valuable enough for a good relationship.

I could wait.

In fact, I had little choice. My ruined heart was nothing without Chloe.

“I hope Chloe is all of my last firsts,” I continued. “My last first date. My last first kiss. And my last girlfriend.” I said the words clearly, looking directly into her wide blue eyes.

“Well, there you have it!” Bruce said to Jill. They each held up one of our cookies and tapped them together in a mock cheers before taking a bite. They both moaned in satisfaction, chewing and swallowing. “You can grab your own delicious goodies here in the evenings in the small town of Maple Grove, New Hampshire. But if, like us, you’re from out of town, you can order a Dump Truck care package of junk food for yourself or a friend. Just log onto their site to place an order at dumptruckfoodtruck.com.”

What? I didn’t even know we had a website! I jerked a gaze at Chloe who merely looked ahead at Jill and Bruce smiling. She quickly flashed me a wink, then went back to paying attention to the hosts of the show.

“And who knows?” Jill sang. “The Dump Truck may not only heal your cravings after a breakup… but it just might heal your heart, too.”

“Cut!” A director shouted from somewhere in the corner. Once again, the previously silent studio was now filled with noise. Assistants were on their feet, running around. Even Bruce and Jill jumped up and I watched as Jill tossed the rest of her cookie into the trashcan.

“Aw, come on!” Bruce yelled. “I would have eaten yours.”

“Of course you would have.” She sneered as she walked off set. “Do you even know how many calories are in those?”

Bruce patted his stomach and polished off the rest of his cookie. “I swear,” he said, leaning in. “I never belonged on television. Not with this belly and this ginormous chin. It’s a wonder I made it this far.”

Chloe smiled and slid him a sample box of our other baked goods. “Here,” she said with that disarming smile of hers. “These are on us. Enjoy.”

He grinned and it was the first genuine smile I think we saw come out of him all day. “Thanks. Good luck you two. And I don’t just mean with the truck.”

He was gone before we could say thank you in return. Two sound engineers appeared in front of us. “Okay,” the first technician said, snaking her frigid hand up my shirt to remove the microphone. I squealed when her ice-cold fingers came in contact with the skin on my back, but she didn’t seem to notice my discomfort at all. “We’ll be at the town center to meet you and the truck for some b-roll of customers buying your food.” She paused, glaring at us both pointedly as though we were being accused of something. “You will have customers, right?”

“We haven’t had a night that wasn’t sold out in weeks,” Chloe said with a confidence that had waned in me… even when it shouldn’t have. She was right. Business was better than ever and we had nothing to worry about. Why did I still feel like such a fraud?

“Good,” she said. “Bruce and Jill won’t be there. But we will splice the footage into this interview before the episode airs tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked. “That’s fast.”

“It’s a daily show that’s usually live. They love when we pre-record segments because it gives them a breather,” the second sound technician said.

With that, we were dismissed and quickly ushered out the door and away from the makeshift studio that they had brought up from New York and set up at the artist residency center in town.

I threaded my fingers into Chloe’s, relieved that hers weren’t as ice-cold as the other woman’s. She glanced down at our linked hands. “There’s no one around.”

I tilted my chin up to the security camera and she followed the direction of my gaze. “Don’t be so sure. You never know who’s watching.”

She sighed heavily, but then tugged me into her side and we walked down the hall, holding each other. “I wouldn’t put it past them to use security footage.”

“Hey,” I knocked into her hip with a gentle nudge of mine. “Since when do we have a Dump Truck website?” I asked.

She shrugged, but her smile betrayed the casualness of the movement. “I did it after I left you at the hospital. When I’m stressed … or feeling guilty… I work. Besides, what good is national exposure if we don’t have a way of leveraging it?”

I nodded. I had to give it to her… it was smart. “But what if we get more orders than we know what to do with?”

“For now, I put a cap on it… 50 Dumped Delivery boxes can be ordered per day. We can see how that is to manage and always increase how many we allow a day. Plus, selling out online will look good. Create demand.” Her grin was proud and she stood taller as we walked.

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” She beamed.

I lowered my mouth to her ear and whispered, “And you’re not a mess. Stop telling yourself that lie.” My lips brushed against the soft skin of her earlobe, sending a spike of arousal curling down my spine.

She stumbled a little over her feet, but I was there to catch her and tightened my grip around her to help steady her. “I am a mess! Case in point—I can’t even walk straight.”

I stopped walking, forcing her halt mid-step as well and turn to face me. Cradling her jaw, I pulled her close, her pupils dilating against the icy blue of her eyes. “You’re not a mess.” I looked directly into the soft depths of her eyes and spoke as seriously as I could. She needed to not just hear me, but really, truly listen. “No more than any of the