He smiled and nodded. “Good. Okay, so I didn’t bring a plate or knife to cut these up. I kinda assumed you’d have those things here.”
“And you’d be right to assume. Do you also have—”
He pulled out a notepad from the pocket of his slacks. “I’m prepared,” he said.
As we cut the cupcakes and went through the tasting, Henry made notes. He was precise in it all, asking me what I liked the most, what I hated, and what I thought could be done to make it taste like Pineberry Falls in a cupcake. I felt like I was a judge on a baking show, except all of the cupcakes were delicious, and I had no clue what I was saying other than, “These are delicious, you’re gonna have to keep me from eating them all.”
We’d made it through both boxes with notes, and only small pieces had been sliced out of each one. This was going to be heaven for all the kids and Missy and Ulrick when they came back from the hike. The cupcakes were a reward for them, and extra notes Henry could take. It also saved me from gorging myself.
“I think I might have some front runners,” he told me as we went back to the office. “I’m gonna need numbers as well for the festival.” He sat on the leather sofa, immediately getting himself sucked into it. “Whoa.”
“You’re gonna be one of a bunch, so don’t make too many.” I tried holding back my smile, but his attempts at fighting his way out of the sofa were just too funny.
“Give me a hand,” he said.
I reached out a hand and he took it, but I did not possess the necessary upper-body strength to even try pulling him up.His pull, however, had me flying onto his lap, my elbow and hand precariously close to doing damage to his crotch.
“Well, now we’re both stuck,” he said.
I sat there for a moment. “Thanks for bringing the cupcakes in.”
“No, thank you. I got great information,” he said. “Back in Chicago, you’ve got to pay for a focus group like that.”
“A focus group,” I repeated. “That’s all I am?”
“It’s hard to break out of thinking patterns.”
“I’m just joking, I was definitely more than paid by all that deliciousness.”
We stayed in a moment of silence. I felt like he wanted to say something, and I also wanted to add to what I’d said. The longer we were quiet, the harder it became to speak and break it, though.
At the same time, we spoke. “Maybe—” I started.
“You should come by the—” he began. “You go.”
“No, you.”
He finished his thought, inviting me to the bakery. “As long as you have the time to come by. I feel like you’re the first friend I’ve made here.”
And there it was. He called me his friend. “Yeah, friends,” I said, getting off the sofa with ease now. “I’d love to come and help, but I am pretty swamped here. The festival isn’t going to plan itself.” It might’ve been a lot of work, but I’d wanted to do it for the longest time. It was part of my new title as the activities coordinator. “But I will put you on the list as definitely bringing cupcakes.”
“I also make a mean pie,” he said, pushing with all his might, his white shirt becoming taut across his chest. There was fear and excitement in my hitched breath, as I watched and waited for one of those buttons to pop and reveal some of the skin underneath. “And a nice pie too,” he laughed.
“Right,” I said, my eyes focused on that singular button I knew was about to make my dream come true. “Yeah, I’d... I’d love to try those as well.”
Henry’s hand touched the button I’d been staring at. He rubbed a thumb over it and then moved his hand up to his face where he brushed it under his chin, guiding my gaze. He had to have known what he was doing with that smile and those shiny white teeth all perfect.
“Don’t you get cavities from all the things you make?” I asked, almost as if I could feel the sugar drilling tiny cavities in my back teeth. “Not like you eat them all, though, I suppose.”
“Good oral hygiene practices help,” he said. “And I should get off, but when you’re not busy, we could maybe talk a little more. You can ask me anything then. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded slowly, my eyes focused on his lips then those emerald eyes. “I should have free time, because it’s not healthy to work all the time, right?”
He tapped the side of my arm, like a pat mixed with a slight single-handed hug. Perhaps he was sizing me up. I didn’t possess much muscle, so if he was about to ask me to help him carry bags of flour or boxes of cakes, he’d have to ask someone else. I was overthinking it. Everything in my brain was rushing with all that sugar in my system, and I was going to crash from it. I could not do that in front of him.
“You’ve got my number, right?” he asked, not giving me any room to answer. “You definitely do. Anyway, text me if there’s anything you need to know, or if you have information about the festival. Three weeks is plenty of time.”
I nodded. “Perfect.” I held two thumbs up. Now I was getting into the silly part of my sugar high. “Talk to you later, then.”
