As she headed behind the counter, she thought about making a gingerbread house with the man who made her stomach swoop. A blush-fest, that’s what it would be. He’d see through her crush in five minutes and…then what?
She dreaded the whole thing.
And kind of couldn’t wait to get started.
Gracie stoodon the sidewalk a little longer than necessary, rubbing her mittened hands together while she stepped back to take in the sight of Sugarfall bathed in golden afternoon light.
Her precious little bakery was so homey, from the leaded glass windows frosted with snow, to the glittering sign above the door, all the way to the adorable red mailbox for “Santa letters” that she put out every year in front of the shop.
Her bakery was the embodiment of downtown Park City—quaint and historic, inviting and alive. Nestled beneath stunning mountain peaks, the old mining town never looked more beautiful than when it was covered in snow and holiday lights.
Turning to look across the street, she noticed how Craving Clean pulsed with an entirely different kind of energy, but still somehow fit in with Park City. A younger, healthier, more fit, and fantastic Park City.
Under the green-and-white awning, the glass storefront gleamed, spare and sleek and, well, clean. Everything about the place he so proudly described as the “anti-bakery” said discipline over decadence. It was hip where hers was sweet, crisp where hers was gooey, and pure where hers was…poison.
At least if you consulted one of the Snack Stats comparison cards that she hoped had all been trashed by now.
She crossed the street quickly, putting all that out of her head. There was room in this town for both of them, and she had to be the bigger person in all of this.
Pulling the heavy wooden door, she stepped inside Craving Clean, which was just as different from her place on the inside.
Where Sugarfall enveloped its customers in pleasure and nostalgia, Craving Clean projected precision. Fewer tables, all in straight, neat lines. A menu board with bold fonts, no flourishes. Every item—protein bites, oat bars, sugar-free truffles—was neatly displayed like an exhibit in a museum.
Of course, there was artfully placed Pittsburgh Steelers memorabilia to draw the eye and impress the patrons.
And there were plenty of customers. Not a line out the door like when Craving Clean first opened, but quite a few people sipping smoothies in glass tumblers, biting into muffins the size of fists, nodding as if they were doing something good for their bodies.
Marshall Hampton was behind the counter, talking to a customer with that tall, broad-shouldered, effortless charm that made her toes curl in her boots.
When his gaze landed on her, his whole face lit.
“Gracie! Well, this is a treat. How’s the science fair project going? I hope Olivia isn’t eating you out of chocolate chip cookies. She doesn’t get them here.”
She came closer to the counter, praying her voice wasn’t stretched thin or her cheeks weren’t the color of those organic strawberry oatcakes in the display case.
“No, she’s…she’s just awesome,” Gracie admitted. “I adore your daughter.”
But not you,she thought quickly, praying nothing like that came out of her mouth.I don’t adore you. I really don’t.
“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” he said easily. “Olivia thinks you hung the very moon she hopes to visit one day.”
Gracie laughed softly, rooting around for the perfect comeback, but she had nothing but a dry mouth and empty brain. No jokes about raising future astronauts or how Olivia’s dog was named after a NASA scientist. No, all those witticisms would come to her around three o’clock in the morning when she mentally replayed this conversation.
“I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to stop by and, um, say your bakery looks…great. Really great. Very…clean.”
He chuckled, leaning on the counter. “That’s the idea.”
Right. Of course. Clean. “And I wanted to tell you about a strange turn of events,” she added.
He wiped his hands on a black apron and signaled to one of his staff. He had three people working today? Her heart dropped.
“Roberto, can you cover the counter? I’m going to grab a drink with Gracie.”
He was? A drink?
“We have a great selection of tea.” He gestured to the drink station. “Nettle and dandelion detox? Ashwagandha & Holy Basil Calm Brew?”
Oh, jeez. “Do you have coffee?”
