Baked in Love Read online

  Baked in Love

  Hayden Hunt

  Contents

  Copyright

  1. Miles

  2. Aidan

  3. Miles

  4. Aidan

  5. Miles

  6. Aidan

  7. Miles

  8. Aidan

  9. Miles

  10. Aidan

  11. Miles

  12. Aidan

  Epilogue

  FREE Very Late Blooming Excerpt

  13. Gabriel

  14. Oliver

  15. Gabriel

  16. Oliver

  FREE Puppy Love Excerpt

  17. Noah

  18. Charlie

  19. Noah

  20. Charlie

  21. Noah

  JOIN MY MAILING LIST

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Hayden Hunt

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  1

  Miles

  “Hello?” I called out into my apartment as I opened the door, trying to figure out if my fiancé was home.

  It didn’t seem like she was, which was weird because she was usually off work by now. A sense of relief washed over me. I loved when I had the apartment to myself.

  All right, that sounded bad. It wasn’t that I hated my fiancée or anything. It was just that we spent a lot of time together and I didn’t get a lot of time to myself. Plus, we had definitely fallen into a routine with one another at this point and we mostly sat around and watched TV when she was here.

  I collapsed on the couch, preparing myself to play some video games and grab a beer from the fridge when I heard her voice.

  “Miles? Is that you?”

  Disappointment rushed over me. Damnit, she was home.

  She walked down the hallway, coming from our bedroom.

  “Hey, Chelsea,” I said softly.

  She was putting on a jacket as she came into the living room.

  “Babe, I’m so glad you’re here! Do you want to go to the bakery with me?”

  “Uh, well, not really,” I admitted. “What are you doing to the bakery for?”

  “To taste test for our wedding cake, of course.”

  Oh, right, I forgot that was a thing.

  I really didn’t like doing any of this wedding stuff. I simply couldn’t bring myself to care much about it. Though that was normal among men, right? It was the girls that got all stoked on the wedding. I was sure it was normal that I was less than thrilled.

  “Babe, come on, you haven’t done any wedding planning with me at all. Wasn’t this whole thing your idea?”

  If by that she meant I was the one who proposed then, yes, of course it was. But that didn’t mean I was stoked to get married or anything.

  Me and Chelsea had been together since we were in high school. She was my first girlfriend ever. We were both in our mid-twenties now and I knew it was time to propose. That was what any decent man would do. You were an asshole if you strung a woman along for a decade and then didn’t marry her. It was the right thing to do, and I was the kind of man who always chose to do the right thing if at all possible.

  But, no, just because I was willing to do the right thing didn’t mean I was excited to do it. It was a sacrifice I had to make for the sake of my morals. And I was willing to make it.

  Besides, we’d already been together a decade. I didn’t imagine we were ever going to break up.

  “I don’t have that much interest in the wedding planning, that’s all,” I told her. I knew she wouldn’t take too kindly to me telling her I proposed out of moral obligation.

  “As a favor to me, please? I’m not asking you to look at dresses. Come eat some cake, is that really that torturous?”

  I sighed. “I guess not.”

  “Fantastic, thank you.”

  “No problem,” I mumbled.

  So much for a night to myself.

  I grabbed the keys to my car and stood up to leave with her. This was the last thing I wanted to do after a long day at work, but I didn’t see how I had much of a choice. It was clearly very important to her.

  So this would be a small sacrifice on my part. And, if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t make many sacrifices for her lately.

  Like I said, I cared deeply for Chelsea. She’d been my closest friend since high school and was a huge part of my life. But lately, it felt like we were in a rut of routine. We did the same thing every day. We ate dinner in silence. We watched television before bed. Things felt a little… disconnected.

  I knew we hadn’t been the fairytale romance she wished we were. But, frankly, we’d never had a romance like that anyway. Even in high school, we didn’t exactly have a relationship full of passion.

  It was Chelsea that went after me when we were fourteen years old. She had a crush and she told me so. I wasn’t all that interested in her, but a few of my guy friends encouraged me to go for it. I’d never had a girlfriend before, never so much as kissed a girl on the cheek. I was a late bloomer. My friends were trying to get me to move forward from that.

  And because I gave in to peer pressure, I agreed to go out with her. There weren’t a lot of sparks and I didn’t even really know how to treat a girlfriend back then. She took the lead on that front and planned all of our dates. It was Chelsea that pushed forward the romance. Eventually, I reached a level of comfort with her and it became easier to be with her.

  It pretty much stayed that way throughout our relationship. She never got big, corny gestures of romance from me. I never declared my undying passion for her. I was just in this with her; I was a life partner.

  It wasn’t glamorous, but that was life, right? Life wasn’t some extravagant romance movie. When you were in a relationship with someone, you were in it because they were your partner in life. You chose to be with someone when you were comfortable enough with them to build a life together.

  So that was pretty much what I was doing. I was building a life with Chelsea. I’d been with her long enough, she was a good girl, and she deserved the commitment from me. So I hid my hesitance to the best of my ability and was trying to give her all that I could.

  It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes I felt downright terrified to get married. What would come next? We bought our first house? We tried for kids? We got started on the rest of our lives?

  It was daunting, to say the least. But I stuffed down my fears for the sake of keeping Chelsea happy. She really was a good girl, and she deserved to be happy.

  I drove us to the bakery. There was only one in our small town so I didn’t need directions. I’d never actually been there before, though. They were an expensive little shop that made a lot of custom specialty items. I’d never had a need for any custom baked goods.

  Our ride there was silent for the first five minutes, which didn’t surprise me at all. Most of our time together was spent quietly lately. I didn’t mind.

  But apparently Chelsea did, because after about five minutes, she tried to break the silence.

  “So, how was your day?” she asked.

  “Fine,” I answered shortly.

  “Did anything interesting happen at work?”

  “Of course not,” I answered. “I made a lot of sales calls and did a lot of paperwork, as always.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming a little defeated. “Okay then.”

  I probably should have returned the question by asking her about her work but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I d
idn't want to start up any more awkward conversation. I was honestly enjoying the quiet. And I knew as soon as we got to this bakery I was going to be bombarded by wedding talk.

  At least when we arrived and walked in, I was hit with the sweet smell of cake. I did have a bit of a sweet tooth so this probably wouldn’t be that bad.

  It was a cute little ;shop, it had a very retro look. The floor was made of black and white tiles, and the walls were painted a bright teal color. There was a bell that hung on the door to signal a customer walking in.

  The bell, at least, didn't seem like it was for decoration. Because when we walked in, there was nobody at the counter. Though we quickly heard somebody yell from the back of the shop.

  “I’ll be right out!”

  Before he came, Chelsea whispered to me. “I know you don’t like any of this wedding stuff, but I really think this will be fun.” She smiled softly.

  “Yeah, hopefully it will.”

  A man in a traditional baker’s uniform came out from behind the counter, drying his hands off with a towel.

  “Sorry about the wait.” He smiled. “You must be Chelsea and Miles?”

  “Yes, so nice to meet you.” Chelsea extended her hand.

  I smiled and did the same.

  He seemed like a friendly enough guy, though besides the uniform he didn’t look much like a baker. He had more of a lumberjack look to him. A lot of scruffy facial hair, dark curly brown hair, a very masculine face. Objectively, he was not a bad looking guy.

  I felt a little less manly standing next to him, though. Which was weird because I wasn’t scrawny by any stretch of the imagination. I spent a fair amount of time at the gym and prided myself on being in shape. But he was far bulkier than me.

  “So, I’ve already got a few sample flavors on a platter for you, let me just grab it and I’ll grab my photo album of past cakes and we can get started.”

  “Sounds good.” Chelsea grinned.

  All right, the cake samples I could get behind, the photo album not so much.

  We sat down at a little white table off to the side of the shop and waited while he came back with a large book and an even larger sample platter of cakes.

  “Okay then, so how many people are we going to be feeding with this cake?” he asked as he sat down.

  “About a hundred,” Chelsea answered.

  “A hundred, really?” I asked without thinking.

  She gave me a dirty glance. “Yeah, one hundred, I told you just last week how large the guest list was.”

  I gave an awkward smile to her and the baker. “Guess I wasn’t paying too much attention.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned to the baker. “I’m sure you get this a lot, men who aren’t terribly interested in wedding planning.”

  “Oh, every now and again. But actually most guys who come in here seem pretty excited. But what do I know? I’m the cake guy. Who can’t get behind a free cake tasting, huh?”

  She gave a polite smile but I could tell she was disappointed with this answer.

  The baker continued. “So, are you thinking something three tiered?” he asked.

  “Yes, I want to keep it traditionally white and I was hoping to have a different flavor for every tier.”

  “Not a problem.” He smiled. “Let’s go ahead and try some flavors, then.”

  It was a very organized platter. It was covered in small square pieces of cake and coming out of the top were toothpicks labeling each flavor.

  I picked up a chocolate, which was actually really amazing. It was the perfect amount of moist. Chelsea had picked up the chocolate with me.

  “Oh my God.” She moaned. “This is amazing.”

  “It is really, really good,” I added.

  “Why thank you.” He smiled in a prideful kind of way.

  “I already know this will be the biggest layer of cake. I am a chocoholic,” said Chelsea.

  “It’s always a fan favorite,” he agreed. “Can’t go wrong with that. Here, let’s take a look at some styles.”

  I continued eating as Chelsea flipped through his wedding cake cook. In addition to the classic flavors like chocolate and vanilla, there was red velvet, Oreo cream, strawberry, and coconut, and they were all delicious.

  If I had to choose, I didn’t even know what I’d decide. But, thankfully, I knew I didn’t have to. This would all be Chelsea’s decision. I didn’t even bother glancing over at the cakes until she exclaimed, “This one! Oh, it’s so perfect!”

  “You’d want something exactly like this, then?” he asked.

  “Maybe not as many flowers on the middle row. But yes, other than that, I think this is the one.”

  I glanced over. It seemed like a boring cake to me. It was all white with these orchid-looking decorative flowers surrounding it. For a cake that was going to cost us hundreds, it seemed like we should get something that looked less boring.

  “What do you think?” Chelsea asked me.

  “I think it looks great,” I lied.

  “Okay, looks like that’s what we’re going with, then.” He smiled.

  “I do have one question, uh, sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “It’s Aidan, I apologize. I probably didn’t mention it earlier. I’ve been a little rushed today, trying to get everything finished for the night by six because I’ve got a game night tonight with some friends.”

  “Oh, a game night? What kind of games?” Chelsea asked eagerly.

  I did like this about her, that she was so outgoing. I wasn’t naturally outgoing at all and it was nice that she would talk and I was able to take a back seat to all the attention.

  “Well, don’t judge me, but a few guy friends of mine actually come over and we play a lot of video games. I know, pretty nerdy of us, but what can I say, it’s fun.”

  “Oh, you won’t get judgement from us! Whenever I come home, that’s all Miles is doing. Playing video games.”

  Of course, I got off of them as soon as she got home and I didn’t get much time to myself, so it wasn’t something I wasted too much time on. But it did take the edge off of a long day.

  “Oh, nice, what kind of games do you play?”

  “Mostly first person shooters,” I told him.

  “Hey, us too.” He smiled politely.

  “Oh, how nice!” Chelsea butted in. “You should start something like that, honey, a game night with some friends.”

  Except for that to work I’d have to actually have friends to play with, which I did not. Slowly but surely, all of my old friends had left our home town to move on to bigger and better things. Me and Chelsea were among the few people in our graduation class who still lived here.

  “Yeah, maybe I will,” I said, because I wasn’t going to tell this baker about how I had no friends to invite.

  “Well, you’re welcome to join our game night, if you want. We’re always looking for other guys to join. This town doesn’t seem to have a lot of people our age, you know?”

  “Oh, babe, how fun would that be! You should totally go.” She turned to Aidan. “You’re having one tonight, you said?”

  “Yeah, at my place, go ahead and come through! I’ll make sure you have the address before you guys leave. It’s starting at 6:30.”

  “Oh, uh, all right then,” I said awkwardly.

  I was cursing Chelsea in my head. This was one of those times her outgoing nature did not work out in my favor. I didn’t want to go hang out at this stranger’s house with a bunch of guys I didn’t know, but she didn’t even give me the option to say no. She volunteered me before I had a chance to say anything.

  “Should he bring anything?” Chelsea asked for me.

  “Nah, I’ve already got people bringing beer and snacks, so just bring yourself.”

  “Great!” She grinned.

  I wasn’t at all surprised she was so eager about this. She was always trying to get me to go out and make friends and I was always resisting.

  “So, have we decided on any other flavors
besides chocolate?” he continued, getting back down to business.

  Chelsea proceeded to choose vanilla and red velvet. She had been taking bites of samples between talking. She wanted to keep it traditional, that was what she said. It was what she kept saying about everything.

  I had begun to loathe the word. Traditional, what the hell did it even mean? I mean, we were already getting married, wasn’t that traditional enough?

  I couldn’t really explain why the word got to me so bad. It made me realize that what she really wanted was a traditional life. A nice house, white picket fence, two kids. And the more I thought about a life of tradition, the more bored I got.

  But that was to be expected, right? You grew older and life got boring. That was just how things went. There was no point in fighting it. Eventually, this was always going to be my life. And I was sure I’d learn to love it.

  But right now, I just didn’t love much. I felt consumed by my negativity. I couldn’t think positively about anything. I didn’t have it in me at the moment.

  “Okay, let me go ahead and write this order up and get you a receipt,” Aidan said, standing up from the table and going behind the counter.

  “You really do like the cake, right?” Chelsea whispered to me.

  “Yeah, love it,” I said, trying to keep my tone from sounding sarcastic and failing miserably.

  He came back with the receipt and Chelsea handed him her credit card. I only caught a glimpse of the receipt before he took the card, but it was long enough to see the cake was a couple hundred bucks.

  It all seemed so pointless. I had used a ton of my life savings on her ring so Chelsea was using most of her savings on the wedding, with the help of her parents. Why were we doing this? Why were we spending all this money for one day? If she wanted traditional so bad, shouldn’t we be saving for that big house and future college funds for our children?

  This was the real reason I hated doing any wedding planning. For the most part, I was able to push the wedding out of my head on a day to day basis. I didn’t have to think about how annoyed I was or how pointless it all seemed. I could go about my day and ignore the whole thing.