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  Pranked

  Echo Bay: Book One

  J.J. Riley

  Suki Gale

  Copyright © 2019 by J.J. Riley and Suki Gale

  All rights reserved.

  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 in book reviews.

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal

  copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’ rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents are the products

  of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Inked Imagination

  Formatting by Inked Imagination

  Editing by Ms. Correct All’s Editing and Proofreading Services

  Proofing by Meghan Daigle

  Created with Vellum

  To our betas who took a chance on our guys, our family who supported us and our quack pack that kept us sane through the process. We appreciate all your love and support!

  Contents

  Thank You For Reading

  1. Ezra

  2. Jasper

  3. Ezra

  4. Jasper

  5. Ezra

  6. Jasper

  7. Ezra

  8. Jasper

  9. Ezra

  10. Jasper

  11. Ezra

  12. Jasper

  13. Ezra

  14. Jasper

  15. Ezra

  16. Jasper

  17. Ezra

  18. Jasper

  19. Ezra

  20. Jasper

  21. Ezra

  22. Jasper

  Epilogue

  About The Authors

  Thank You For Reading

  Thank you for reading Pranked! We are both so excited for you to meet Ezra and Jasper and the rest of Echo Bay! This book has plenty of sweet moments and steam, but there are mentions of past abuse that may be triggering for some readers. This book contains sexual situations that are intended for readers 18 and up!

  Happy Reading!

  Ezra

  The smell of fresh bread, coffee, and sugary donuts permeated the air of my own slice of Heaven on Earth. I kneaded the dough in front of me to the beat of the pop song blasting through the speakers, my hips shaking and a smile on my face. To say I was a morning person was a vast understatement. I thrived in the stillness of early morning, preferring the quiet to the hectic nightlife everyone else my age seemed to love.

  Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I realized I only had about an hour until open, which meant I needed to slide the last batch of bread into the oven and change. Thankfully, I lived right above my shop, so it was an easy transition. Just because I baked for a living didn’t mean I had to spend the entire day covered in flour like some sort of clichè.

  Just as the song switched to something a little less upbeat, I slid the loaves of bread into the oven and hung my apron on the hook. One last glance at the clock told me I had just enough time for a quick shower, so I took the stairs two at a time.

  By the time I was presentable in my usual sweater, button up, and bow tie combo, Mrs. Durso was already waiting at the door. I grinned and flipped the sign as she peeked in, her face lit up as she waved at me.

  “Ezra, dear! You know I can’t just walk by and smell that bread, and not come in for my daily treat!” she crowed, sweeping in with her chihuahua in an oversized purse. She was an overly enthusiastic old lady with a penchant for fake fur and talking far too loud. Her white hair was long and curly, and her green eyes wide, making her look extra eccentric. She was the highlight of opening my shop every day. You couldn’t help but smile around her.

  “You know I already have it ready,” I teased, pulling out a paper sack with my Made with Love logo on the front, and tucked in her usual cranberry and white chocolate scone and a gourmet dog biscuit for Tinkerbell.

  “You’re too kind to this old woman,” she joked, already handing over her cash and feeding Tink her treat at the same time. For being such a small woman, she was hard to keep up with and way more talkative than I usually was.

  “You’re my best customer, of course I am,” I said with a laugh, handing over her change before she was bustling out the door. After her, it was a steady flow of regulars, selling out of the bread almost as soon as the timer went off. By the time I had a moment to breathe, I realized it was already noon, and my stomach was growling.

  The moment I stepped into the back, the bell above the door was chiming yet again and I had to bite back a groan of frustration. If business were to remain at this pace, I’d be forced to hire some help.

  “Don’t worry, it’s just me!” Leo’s voice echoed into the back, meaning I didn’t have to go back out. My best friend rushed in and I almost heard angels sing as my eyes landed on the takeout containers in his hands. He grinned at my overly enthusiastic look, knowing me far too well. “I knew you’d be hungry and I had to get away from the family business.”

  “You could just call it what it is, an antique shop,” I deadpanned. “It’s not the mafia or something nefarious.”

  “It might be. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he shot back, holding the containers out of my reach. He only had about five inches on me, but he wasn’t afraid to use it to his advantage.

  “This is best friend abuse,” I whined, reaching out for them and failing to even brush my fingertips against them. “I even made you red velvet cupcakes.” His eyebrows shot up at the magic words, my lunch deposited in my hands without further fanfare. I didn’t even hesitate, hopping onto the counter and devouring the sweet and sour chicken inside like a starving man.

  “The way you eat scares me,” Leo said around his mouthful of food. “Did your family even feed you growing up?” Leo and his sassiness strikes again.

  “Which one? I had about five,” I said, quirking an eyebrow at him and waiting for realization to hit.

  “Touché, Ez,” he said simply, not a hint of apology in his tone. I secretly loved that about him. I wasn’t great at reading people, but with him he just laid out every thought like an open book. No guessing or awkwardness… it was just Leo. He also didn’t care that I wasn’t the most social friend and went to bed earlier than any other twenty-six year old we knew.

  “Plans tonight?” I asked, tossing the empty box in the trash and washing my hands. He snorted at my question, not answering right away.

  “Well, if you mean inventory with Pops, then yes. Real plans… I wish. I’d kill for a hot date.” His voice was dreamy as his eyes looked off at something I couldn’t see. I chuckled, knowing exactly what the problem was.

  “Another book boyfriend?” I asked, waving my hand in front of his face until his eyes focused on me again.

  “Maybe,” he hedged, picking at lint that wasn’t there. “I just finished this amazing book about a lumberjack. Why don’t we live in the mountains?”

  “Because we live in Echo Bay, the most peaceful town on the West Coast,” I said, using my best announcer voice
. Leo just rolled his eyes at my terrible impression, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a grin he tried to bite back.

  “I’m just destined to be alone,” he said, glancing at the clock and tossing his own trash in the bin, letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Time to go, I don’t want my pay docked for being late.”

  “Would he actually do that?” I asked, shocked. He just chuckled and nodded before hurrying out of the store. I knew Pops was strict, but that was a new low, even for him.

  As soon as I stepped behind the counter, it was like the world knew, another wave of customers bustling in. I’d been worried about opening my bakery in such a small town, but something about Echo Bay drew me in and I had to give it a shot. The last bakery closed two years ago, so it was perfect timing. I used every bit of savings I had and applied for small business grants until I could afford it. Which was why I was so controlling over every aspect of my business. If I failed, I failed myself and my mom’s memory, and that was unacceptable.

  My memories of my mom were fading, but I could never forget our Sunday routine. She’d get me up early and take me down to her favorite bakery, this one in fact. We’d have breakfast together before she took me to work with her. She was a maid, so I just trailed along behind her with whatever supplies I could carry for her. She died when I was eight, but the memory stuck with me, sparking my dream of owning my own bakery. It made me feel like I still had a small connection to her, even if it was a stretch.

  The chiming of the bell above the door yanked me back from memory lane and I jumped to help the customers lining up in front of me. As luck would have it, the radio station turned on more high-tempo pop music, which carried me through the second wave of customers. As closing crept near, I started to sell out of all my more popular items, though I did notice that the peppermint scones sold out faster than normal. I’ll have to make more of those tomorrow, I noted. Just as the last customer left I let out a contented, tired sigh as I slouched down on the display case. The movement pushed up my glasses into my forehead, but I was too exhausted to care about bending my glasses right now. Thank goodness today is over. I have a few batches to start up for tomorrow before I leave, then I’m watching some Hallmark movies with a fresh cup of tea before going to bed.

  Just when I thought my day was over, the tinkling of that damn bell went off again. Not bothering to stand up fully, I mumbled into the glass display case, “you caught me just as I was about to flip the sign. We are pretty much sold out of everything today.”

  “Pretty much isn’t everything though, is it?”

  I jerked up at that cocky tone to see none other than Jasper King smirking at me. Straightening up, I arched an eyebrow at him and looked him up and down. Why do the cute ones always have to be such assholes?

  “I don’t have any of those gluten-free, no sugar, no carb crappy pastries you city boys like so much, Jasper King.” Something about him just brought out my feisty side.

  His cocky smile grew wider at my barb and I winced. Even if he got on my nerves with his full-of-himself attitude, he was still a customer. But his light blue eyes danced with humor.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve never been a fan of gluten-free, no sugar, no carb, crappy pastries, as you called them. Do you have any more of those peppermint scones left? I could use a good jolt for breakfast.”

  I glanced at the clock on my register to double check, and yes, it was in fact, five o’clock in the evening. “Breakfast?”

  He shrugged. “Well yeah. The bar opens at five o’clock and stays open ‘til two in the morning for the drinking and party crowd.” He paused then tilted his head at me. “So, about that scone…”

  “I’m sorry but I sold out of it with the after lunch crowd. But I’ll be making more tomorrow, since they seem so popular.”

  He seemed disappointed about the lack of scones, but he nodded at my statement. “Christmas is right around the corner at this point; I can see how it would be a big seller right now.”

  I inwardly grimaced at the reminder, but apparently I didn’t keep it fully under wraps since he looked at me questioningly.

  I let out a sigh, before letting a lie slip so he would just pick and leave. “I’m not a big fan of Christmas. Is there anything else I can get you today?” I actually loved Christmas, it was the spending it alone that I hated.

  “How about a croissant?”

  “Sold out of both the classic and chocolate filled.”

  “Danish?”

  “Sold out.”

  “Any kind of muffin?”

  “Also, sold out.”

  He looked at me in exasperation and waved his hand at the wall of baskets behind me. “Why don’t you tell me what you do have left then?”

  “I have a pecan, cherry, and apple pie left. One loaf of ciabatta, two sourdough, and one focaccia. Two chocolate cakes, six vanilla cupcakes, and three sugar cookies.”

  Jasper nodded as I recited the list of leftover inventory and I waited for him to decide what he wanted, if he wanted anything at all.

  “Is that a slice of apple pie or a whole one?”

  “Of course it’s the whole thing.”

  “I’ll take that then. I have a whiskey that would pair perfectly with it and it’s almost like an apple crisp. That could be considered breakfast, right?”

  A friendly smile accompanied that statement, which I ignored to box up his order and ring him up.

  “It could be considered breakfast, if not for all the sugar added in both of those things.”

  “But isn’t cereal and all that other breakfast stuff chock-full of the same sugar?”

  I think it over as I take the credit card he holds out to pay. “Maybe. But aren’t processed foods also filled with other fortified nutrients, according to all the advertisements?”

  I swiped his card quickly and when the ding came through showing it was approved, I handed him the card back along with a receipt to sign.

  “This is an odd conversation to be having at the moment, don’t you think?” He smirked up at me as he quickly signed the receipt in a signature a doctor would envy.

  “Probably, but I’m too tired to trade barbs back and forth. I’ll be closing up behind you and heading to bed not too long after.”

  Jasper had been reaching for his pie and turning to leave, but my words seem to bring him up short. “You’re going to sleep? At this time?”

  I stared at him like he was an idiot and gesture at the shop around us. “I’m a baker, Jasper. I actually have to get up and bake before I open in the morning, so it’s fresh. That’s the entire point.”

  He still didn’t seem to comprehend my words so I shook my head. “Look, if you don’t want anything else, I really do need to close up the shop. So if you could just—” I gestured at him to leave.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. Oh, and if you don’t mind, can you turn that horrible racket you call music down more tonight? The industrial earplugs I had to buy don’t even drown out the sound enough for me to sleep like I used to, before your bar showed up.”

  Jasper headed toward the door and just before he stepped out into the crisp winter air, he turned back to answer me.

  “That racket was a live band, and no, I won’t.” He sent me a mocking smile as he left my shop, then proceeded to saunter his way back to the bar, which he knew I could see from my shop windows. I barely stopped myself from staring at his ass as he walked away with a bit too much swagger to be natural.

  I rolled my eyes at his antics and reached out to flip the sign over, marking my store as closed to keep any other last minute customer from trudging in here. Walking toward the back, I carefully boxed up the remaining food and labeled each box with the contents and amount inside. I put aside the packages for now and gathered the ingredients to start batches of dough for tomorrow’s bread. Flour, sugar, salt. Each ingredient was carefully added into the mixer to make the perfect loaves. Most people appreciated the results of baking, but not so much the
science of it coming together. Yet another reason I wasn’t exactly normal.

  Slowly adding wet ingredients next, I watched the dough coming together perfectly, when a sudden knock at the door pulled my attention away. Brooks. I hurried to the front to let him inside out of the chilly air and I noticed how dark it was outside. So much for that Hallmark movie.

  “Hi, Ezra. How was your day?” His deep voice rumbled behind me as I turned away.

  “It was long but busy. So, no complaints here. Let me get those packages for you,” I called back to him as I rushed to the back room in time to turn off the mixer before the dough was uselessly over mixed.

  Soft footsteps sounded behind me and Brooks stood at the entrance of the back, taking in the organized kitchen around me. The only mess to be seen was around the mixer and where I would eventually knead the dough on a tabletop dusted with flour.

  “The packages are right over there. They are all yours.” I waved at the stack beside him on a countertop with carefully arranged spices. The bag had a large Made with Love logo on it and was full of leftover baked goods, including a peppermint scone I had set out this morning for Brooks, since I knew it was a favorite of his. I’d made sure to put his name on that bag so he could grab it first.

  “Thank you, Ezra. This is more than you need to give,” Brooks replied as he took in the bulging bag.

  I waved away his protest. “It’s all items I would either end up selling at a discounted rate or having to throw away. I’d rather they were given to a better cause.”