Y/n was behind the counter, fixing a batch of cupcakes with little fondant bows, each one tinted a different shade of pink.

A man stepped inside. Huge. Broad shoulders in a black leather jacket. Dark hair pushed back. Tattoos crawling up his neck and disappearing under his collar. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a crime documentary and into a glittery pink bakery.

And he was staring directly at Y/n.