Savage in the Sweets: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Savage in Love) Read online

  Savage in the Sweets

  An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

  Lark Anderson

  Contents

  Title Page

  Also By Lark Anderson

  Also by Lark as LJ Anderson

  Chapter 1

  Lacy

  Chapter 2

  Lacy

  Chapter 3

  Colin

  Chapter 4

  Lacy

  Chapter 5

  Colin

  Lacy

  Chapter 6

  Lacy

  Chapter 7

  Colin

  Lacy

  Chapter 8

  Colin

  Chapter 9

  Colin

  Chapter 10

  Lacy

  Colin

  Chapter 11

  Lacy

  Colin

  Chapter 12

  Colin

  Lacy

  Colin

  Chapter 13

  Lacy

  Colin

  Chapter 14

  Lacy

  Chapter 15

  Lacy

  Lacy

  Lacy

  Chapter 16

  Lacy

  Colin

  Chapter 17

  Colin

  Chapter 18

  Lacy

  Lacy

  Epilogue

  Reviews & Arcs

  Also by Lark Anderson

  Also by Lark as LJ Anderson

  About the Author - Lark

  Sneak Peak - Savage in the Sheets

  Savage in the Sweets

  Copyright © 2021 by Lark Anderson

  All rights reserved.

  Lark Letter Press

  131 Daniel Webster Hwy #166

  Nashua, NH 03060

  www.larkandersonbooks.net

  [email protected]

  Edited by: Eva Lynn

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also By Lark Anderson

  The Beguiling a Billionaire Series

  The Billionaire’s Board

  The Billionaire’s Fixer Upper

  The Billionaire’s Funding

  The Bad Girl

  The Dis-Graced

  The Trainwreck

  Hacking His Code

  Reckless in Love

  Love you…not!

  Trust you…not!

  Tempt you…not!

  Savage in Love

  Savage in the Sheets

  Savage in the Sweets

  The Glow Girlz Series

  Stacey's Seduction

  Tempting Teysa

  Desiree's Delight

  * * *

  If you’d like a FREE ebook, click HERE!

  * * *

  If you'd like to become an ARC reviewer for Lark Anderson, please email her at: [email protected]. If you would like to subscribe to Lark's newsletter, please sign up here.

  Also by Lark as LJ Anderson

  Venus Quarantine Initiative

  Her Chosen Mate

  Lacy

  It is an indisputable fact that I love my shop and enjoy going to work each day.

  But right now, as I stand across the counter from an especially prickly customer who’s eyeing the chocolate-covered pretzel rods, I’d much rather be handling the rod of Chris Hemsworth.

  That’s the mentality a ten-month sex drought will give you, or maybe I’m just being a normal horny woman in her 20s.

  Smile politely. Be patient. Soon, he’ll walk out a satisfied customer.

  “I’ll take a dozen pretzels?” he says, then goes back to talking into the phone pressed between his cheek and his shoulder.

  Without guidance, I pick the twelve I think look the best, but when I see an annoyed look on his face, I smile brightly and whisper, “Is there a special one you had in mind?”

  He points emphatically to a rod on the left, then takes the phone away from his mouth. “Take out the pink and replace it with the one with blue sparkles.”

  I comply with his demands, hoping that he realizes I didn’t want to interrupt his call and that I’m not a mind reader.

  After I ring up his order, I force a pleasant expression on my face. “That will be twenty-two dollars.”

  “Isn’t there some kind of bulk discount?” he blurts out quickly, then returns to his conversation.

  I pull out a laminated menu that includes the prices, pointing to the line that shows that by getting twelve, he receives a two-dollar discount which I have already accounted for.

  He shakes his head and swipes his card through the reader.

  Grumpy men are the worst to wait on. Scratch that—leering men are. Grumpy men are a close second. The best are children, who always leave satisfied.

  He ends the call, then looks up at me, finally giving me his attention.

  “Ya know, these are a dollar each at Walmart.”

  Okay, so maybe I was too hasty in my judgment. I’d much rather be leered at than told how much my goods are worth by a man who’s probably had no experience in confectionaries.

  Get your shit together. He’ll be out in the blink of an eye.

  “While I do realize that, these are handmade with real chocolate, which is why I must charge more.”

  Things I fail to mention are rent, labor laws other stores fail to adhere to, and the growing cost of owning a small business.

  Without a farewell, he grabs the bag from the counter and heads out the door.

  Good riddance.

  My phone vibrates, and I pull it out to see a text from Stephanie, my sister, but it’s not her that’s messaging me. It’s my adorable niece, April.

  * * *

  April: It’s me, April! Can you fit another princess on the cake?

  * * *

  Even though no one is around, I still bring my hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. There are already eight princesses on her birthday cake. What’s one more?

  * * *

  Lacy: Sure, which one?

  * * *

  An image comes through of a woman with black hair in a corset. Who the hell am I looking at?

  * * *

  April: Thank you, Aunt Lacy!

  * * *

  Lacy: Who is that?

  * * *

  April: Xena: Warrior Princess.

  * * *

  A quick Google search tells me she’s from the ‘90s.

  Shit! Where the hell am I going to find a Xena figurine for her cake?

  I had assumed she was looking for a princess of the Disney variety, which would be easy to find at our local Walmart. Something tells me that Xena won’t be found on mainstream shelves.

  With her birthday tomorrow, having one shipped isn’t an option. I’ll have to hit up the local shops tomorrow.

  * * *

  Lacy: I’ll get on it!

  * * *

  Looking at the displays, I’m rather pleased with how well the items are moving. When I first took over Savage Sweets, after my parents’ death, it was an uphill battle. Keeping a small business running in a small town isn’t easy. You really have to rely on the the community.

  As I go to mark down the items that aren’t selling, the door jingles, alerting me to another customer.

  Please don’t be a big ass turd….

  I look over to see the principal of Wilson’s Grove Elementary School, Irene Bailey, walking tow
ard the counter.

  “Hello, Irene!” I enthuse, always happy to see the bright and cheery woman.

  She arcs a grumpy eyebrow. “Do you have my fix?”

  “I sure do! Espresso with a shot of chocolate, raspberry, and three homemade marshmallows.”

  “Phew! I was half worried I was going to fall asleep during the school board meeting, but that should do it for me.”

  It takes me less than a minute to make her order, as it’s done entirely by muscle memory. I exchange the steaming cup for a five, thankful I don’t have to make change.

  She breaths in the mixture deeply. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  I cast her a wink. “I’ll always have your back.”

  Her eyes scan my displays. “Bring whatever you can spare to the board meeting. Those cake pops always seem to go quickly.”

  I pull out an extra two dozen cake pops decorated in Wilson’s Grove’s school colors of blue and gold. “Roger that!”

  I’ve become somewhat of a staple at school functions. The proceeds I make on school grounds or when I host a fundraiser are split between my shop and the school, both of us benefiting substantially from the negotiation. In fact, without Wilson’s Grove Elementary, I’m not entirely sure I could keep the lights on. More and more, people are shopping online for candy and confectionaries, and my sales are far less than what they were for my parents.

  “You really know the fine art of presentation,” she says as she admires the pops.

  I busy myself, pulling out and folding cardboard boxes to transport the sugary treats as Irene watches from over the counter. We have a good rapport, and I can tell there’s something on her mind. More than once, I’ve acted as her therapist, listening to her as she rattled off the various situations she encounters each day.

  And let me tell you, I do not envy this woman. Not one bit.

  “Anything big on the agenda for tonight?” I ask, hoping to ease her mind.

  She takes a sip of her espresso concoction, then inhales a deep breath, letting it out quickly. “The playground again. After that kid fell from the platform and broke his arm, people haven’t wanted us to send the kids out to play for recess.”

  “That was over a year ago…”

  “These parents are so bent on sheltering their children, they don’t realize the importance of playing outside, in the fresh air, on a jungle gym.”

  I rack my brain for words of encouragement, knowing that whatever I say is not going to alleviate her stress. I have to try, though.

  “I’m sure you’ll handle it well and with grace,” is what I finally muster, fully realizing it’s generic and far from the warm beacon I aim to be.

  She purses her lips as though she’s contemplating telling me something. I take a break from the boxes to give her my full attention.

  “Have you met the guy who owns the gym moving in next to your shop?”

  “No, but the construction has been noisy. The power went out once, and that caused chaos. Three dozen cookies wasted.”

  “He’s a good man, looking to get involved in the school. An excellent father…”

  Her voice trails off. I’ve never seen her like this before, like she’s trying to convince herself of something. She’s never unsure of herself, always articulating her thoughts perfectly and with conviction.

  “I’ve yet to see him,” I say after an awkward silence. “Maybe I’ll bring him over a goody basket.”

  She snickers. “He doesn’t strike me as the type who would enjoy that.”

  “Who doesn’t enjoy handmade chocolate?”

  “When you see the body on him, you’ll understand.”

  “Well, he does own a gym,” I reply back. “He cute?”

  “Sizzling—but too young for me. He’s only thirty-two.”

  Irene may be an older lady, but she doesn’t look a day over forty, and she’s always put together.

  I wink at her. “He might be into cougars. And you do look like you could be Beyonce’s older sister.”

  She chuckles. “You better stop that. Puttin’ ideas in my head.”

  “It doesn’t sound like I’m the one doing that. Why are you thinking so much about him?”

  “He might be the answer we’ve been looking for. He wants to help the kids and assist with the playground. He’s so damn stubborn, though.”

  “That’s great!”

  Another silence falls between us, and I find that for the first time since I’ve known her, I don’t much like Irene’s company. I’d rather her be ranting up a storm about the parking situation than her being this ominous.

  She blinks as though suddenly realizing where she is. “Oh…listen to me prattling on.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m probably just reading too much into things.”

  Reading too much into what? Did I miss part of the conversation?

  “Here, take this.” I offer her a raspberry truffle, which I know is her favorite. “On the house.”

  “I know I can always count on you,” Irene says, taking the chocolate and turning to leave.

  “Can’t wait to see you tonight,” I say as I go back to my boxes.

  As Irene walks out the doors, she shouts back, “Same, girl.”

  Lacy

  I set up my booth and begin greeting the guests as they trickle through the doors, offering them cupcakes, hot chocolate, and other sweet treats at a reasonable price.

  There are always a few parents that bring their children to these functions, and I give the cuties small lollipops, with their parent’s permission.

  Wilson’s Grove is a small, tight-knit community that makes you feel like you’ve teleported decades into the past. Everyone is personable in a way they aren’t in cities and other towns. After graduating high school, I thought it was the last place I wanted to be and moved to an urban area to go to college.

  Big mistake.

  I came crawling back two years later with my tail between my legs, begging to take over the family business. My parents never made me feel bad and welcomed me back with open arms. My sister had just had April, and we grew closer than we ever were growing up.

  I’m forever thankful for the time I had with them in those years that I was so unsure about myself. I got to know my parents in a way I wouldn’t have otherwise, and when a car accident took them from me just three years after I came back, I feel like I had some amount of closure.

  I took over Savage Sweets, though my sister is technically a co-owner. Everything fell on me, which was terrifying at the time, but I can rightfully say that I’ve successfully preserved my family’s legacy.

  Oh no, not him…

  Donald Setland marches through the school’s double doors like he owns the place, and considering how people bend to his will, it’s almost like he does.

  Could there possibly be a bigger douchebag in all of existence?

  There’s no denying that he’s handsome, standing at least six feet tall with a distinct jawline and debonair good looks. I’m sure that’s what his wife saw in him because I can’t imagine it was his roving eyes and misplaced comments that caught her attention.

  “Aw, Lacy,” Donald enthuses, sauntering up to my display counter. “Always someone I enjoy seeing.”

  The words are awkward but intentional, and if I had any doubt, his wolfish grin assures me of what a creeper he is.

  I smile brightly, knowing better than to piss off one of the richest men in Wilson’s Grove.

  “Mr. Setland, how good it is to see you.” I hold out a cupcake. “Would you like a sweet treat to get you through the meeting?”

  “I certainly would,” he says with a wink. “Though I have my eyes on a sweeter cupcake.”

  “The blueberry ones with lemon frosting are my favorite” I reply back, trying to treat him like I would any other customer.

  He stares me dead in the eyes, not even bothering to glance at the display. “That’s not the sugar rush I’m after.”

  God, why must I suffer this?

  “
Did you leave Kate home with the little ones?” I ask.

  His mouth downticks into a frown when I don’t take the bait.

  “Yeah, it’s just me tonight.”

  He pulls a ten from his wallet, places it on the counter, and grabs a chocolate cupcake.

  “Keep the change,” he says, turning to take a seat near the front.

  As much as I can’t stand the asshole, I can hardly turn my nose up at a seven-dollar tip.

  Carolyn, a close friend of mine, comes through the door looking tired, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s baby throw up on her shirt.

  “Hey.” She waves half-heartedly.

  “Rough day?”

  Her shoulder slump. “You have no idea. I usually don’t go to these things, but I just had to get away from the minions.”