“Yes, yes, that’s it! Oh, my gosh, three cakes in one. I don’t know why I panicked earlier about the lemon. This is perfect. It’ssoChristmas.”
“Crisis averted,” Gracie said, as relieved as the bride. These last-minute flavor freak-outs were part of the job, but they could throw off the kitchen. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a beautiful, delicious cake. Everything will be just right for your big day.”
The groom, who had eaten more frosting than cake during the tasting, nodded emphatically. “This is the best cake I’ve ever had. She’s not going to second-guess again.”
The bride gave him a look that said, “Don’t bet on it,” but she was beaming again, so Gracie counted the session a win.
She walked them to the door, wrapping them in a light hug, feeling as much therapist as baker. “You’re going to have the best cake and a beautiful wedding, I promise.”
When the couple stepped outside, Gracie let her shoulders drop as she glanced around Sugarfall.
She had customers, yes. But no line out the door. No busy counter with a slew of staff bustling to fill orders. Just one person working today, and the tables were only half full.
Reluctantly, she glanced across the street to the green-and-white awning and crisp, contemporary lines of Craving Clean.
Oh, Marshall Hampton, how much I despise you and your healthy, pure, sugar-free, holier-than-thou, age-defying, energy-increasing, utterly guilt-free desserts.
No, she corrected her wayward thoughts. She didn’t despise him. Just his competitive baking. The man himself she…
She gave a grunt and pushed the thought away. She never let herself go there except in her loneliest and most vulnerable moments. Otherwise, she was no better than a teenage girl nursing a debilitating crush on the single cutest guy she’d ever seen.
Because no matter how hard Marshall competed with her, no matter how much of her customer base he stole, no matter how he—and that pretty marketing guru named Ashleigh—worked to smear her products as toxic waste…she still got weak in the knees at thethoughtof the man.
Every darn time she caught sight of him—tall, fit, confident, with that easy smile that could melt glaciers—her brain short-circuited. She could barely string a sentence together. She avoided him whenever possible, because functioning in his presence was almost impossible.
Which was…pah-thetic.
“Hey, Mom.”
At the sound of Benny’s voice, she turned and smoothed her apron as she headed to the back of the shop where her son and the enemy’s daughter had set up camp to work. Yes, she may have a love-hate war in her heart over Marshall, but Olivia?
Nothing but adoration for the kid who’d done what few others had ever succeeded at—she’d become Benny’s good and trusted friend and had brought joy into their lives.
Gracie adored Olivia Hampton with her whole heart. She never got tired of seeing the two of them together.
“You are the only kids in America voluntarily doing schoolwork over Thanksgiving break,” she teased, sliding into the chair that was already pulled out.
Benny playfully pointed the eraser side of his pencil in her direction. “It’s not for school, Mom. It’s for the Summit County Science Fair. Big difference. Huge competition. Cash prize. And we’re going to win.”
Gracie held up her hands in surrender. “Of course you are. I should’ve known better.”
Olivia grinned. “We might come in second.”
Benny choked and Olivia trilled a laugh. “I just say that to get a reaction from him.”
Gracie chuckled at that. Olivia may match Benny IQ point-for-IQ point, but she had a whimsical sparkle and a dry wit that was purely irresistible. So that made both members of the Hampton family—father and daughter—irresistible.
She rested her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the latest? Are we levitating cookies yet?”
Benny sighed. “Not yet. But we will. We just need to stabilize the polarity.” He flipped a page in his notebook with authority.
“How was the wedding cake meeting?” Olivia asked.
“Long and full of second-guessing,” Gracie answered. “Has it been busy out here?”
“Kinda. The events lady came by,” Benny said. “For their festival thing.”
“Eleanor Locke?” Gracie closed her eyes. “I knew she would.”
