No Weddings Read Online Free

no.”
    “Yes, Mr. Wharton Business School.”
    I pointed my bottle toward Kiki. “She’s Kiki’s friend. She should take the meeting.”
    Kiki shook her head. “She’s not that good of a friend. I just know her from art class. Art. Business. You do the math.”
    Kristen pursed her lips, staring at me. “You and I will go together.”
    Knowing my going to the meeting made the most sense, I didn’t argue and gave her a curt nod. But the whole idea sounded painful. About as much fun as when my sisters tricked me into sticking my tongue on a frozen light pole when I was four.
    Resigned, I mentally prepared to meet the Ice Queen again.

N ine days later, I stepped out of the shower, barely awake, when my cell phone’s incessant buzzing on the nightstand caught my attention.
    Irritated at the world that I had to get up early on the only morning I usually had to sleep in after a punishing week of school and work, I grabbed the damned thing off my nightstand, clicked it on, and shoved it against my ear. “What?” I growled.
    “Cade, you need to go to the meeting at Sweet Dreams on your own.” Kristen sounded stressed. There was a beeping noise in the background, then a car door slammed and an engine started.
    “Tell me you’re joking.” Gears started to click in my uncaffeinated mind—even she wouldn’t pull a stunt with something so important to her. “Wait. Is everything okay?”
    “Yeah. Jason’s car broke down on the pike. Dead battery. I’m already on my way to rescue him so he can make his investor’s meeting.”
    “Shouldn’t we reschedule?” I stared at my bed, thinking I could crawl back in.
    “No.” she countered, her tone firm. “Today may be our only shot at this. Hannah was leery on the phone about the idea of partnering with us while launching her new bakery. Make sure you’re there by 7:00 a.m.”
    I groaned. “Sis, I know nothing about baked goods. And I’m confident Hannah doesn’t like me.”
    “Learn. And make her.” She hung up.
    The day was off to a shitty start. Coffee. I need coffee. I went straight to the kitchen and poured a cup.
    I couldn’t be mad at Kristen for rescuing her husband. I liked Jason and didn’t want him stranded either. Or late to his business meeting. A trifecta of sibling code, business code, and bro code obliterated the weak hold I had on my grumpy mood.
    Waiting for the caffeine to kick in, I put on a pair of jeans, tugged a black T-shirt over my head, shrugged on a jacket, and pulled on my worn boots before grabbing my keys and helmet off the entry table.
    I shivered and grumbled under my breath at Jason’s damned car battery. It was cold as fuck out so early, even with unseasonably warm temps in January. I eased back onto the cold, worn leather of my custom motorcycle.
    A few turns onto the sleepy downtown streets of Glenhaven, and I saw my destination. A sign stating “Sweet Dreams” above a yellow-and-white-striped awning told me I’d found the right place. I parked then walked up to the entrance as I took a deep breath, not looking forward to the meeting.
    The sun hadn’t risen yet, giving a grayish cast to the abandoned street, but faint light glowed from within the bakery from somewhere in the back.
    With care, I knocked on the wood frame that surrounded the glass panes in the top section of the door. After waiting a minute and getting no response, I tried the knob. It turned, and I pushed in.
    “Hello?” I surveyed the clean space while stepping inside. Three stools lined a low counter. Beside them was a large, empty display case.
    From somewhere further inside, a metal clap and a ringing sounded out. I followed the noise to the back, into a kitchen sizable enough to accommodate an army of pastry chefs. The lone occupant, however, stood with her back to me, surrounded by hundreds of colorful cupcakes and a few multi-level cakes. The sound came from a metal bowl that spun to a stop a few feet from her, mere inches from a cake half-covered