Lila hurried forward, forcing a bright smile. “No! No, please, come in. That’s, uh, very generous. We’re just, um, going to test recipes for next week.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, setting the boxes on the counter.
“Don’t you worry, TJ,” Irene said with a sly smile. “You can be our official judge.”
Lila groaned. “Irene…”
“What?” Irene said innocently. “He looks like a man who appreciates good pastry.”
TJ’s grin returned, slow and amused. “Um, did I miss something?”
Paddy leaned toward Polly. “Oh, look at the lad’s smile,” he whispered, then winked at Lila.
Lila sighed. “Not helping, Paddy.”
Irene headed for the door again. “We’ll see whose pie he likes best.”
TJ looked at Lila, eyes twinkling. “You want to place a bet?”
She shook her head quickly, but her lips twitched despite herself. “I think I’ve already lost.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hours later, Irene and the others returned to the shop, pies in hand. TJ helped while they were gone. Lila didn’t realize they were leaving her shorthanded and was glad he’d offered to stay. He even ran an errand for her. Yet, he’d been quiet, and Lila wasn’t sure how to take his silence.
Irene sniffed one of the pies she’d brought. She held it up like a trophy while Polly fanned her with a dish towel to cool it faster. They were still warm! Paddy was already arranging Mrs. Jones’s pies on the counter beside Irene’s other pies as though preparing them for a state fair judging.
Lila stood at the end of the counter, half-laughing, half-praying the health inspector wasn’t lurking outside. “If anyone asks,” she muttered. “This never happened.”
“Oh, it happened,” Paddy said cheerfully. “Cyrus got the photos to prove it.”
“You took pictures?” Lila gasped.
Paddy winked. “At the inn, for posterity, dear. Or blackmail. Depending on how this goes. Grandma, did ye bring the camera?”
Grandma pulled an old polaroid camera out of a bag and held it up. “Got it right here!”
TJ chuckled. “So this is going to be like, the Clear Creek Pie Championships?”
“That’s about the size of it,” Polly said, slicing into Mrs. Jones’s berry pie. “Now, let’s see what we’re up against.”
Grandma happily took pictures as Irene gasped. “Hold it!” She darted forward, blocking the knife with an oven mitt. “He tastes mine first. The man needs a proper baseline.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Lila muttered, rubbing her forehead.
“Ladies,” TJ said smoothly. “How about a compromise? I’ll taste both and declare them equally delicious.”
“Ha!” Irene scoffed. “You can’t declare a tie in pie, young man. It’s un-American. Even Melvale would agree with me.”
Lila smothered a laugh behind her hand as Paddy and Polly nodded solemnly in agreement. She had no idea who their friend Melvale was. All she cared about was the fact TJ looked like he was enjoying himself.
“Well,” TJ said, picking up a fork, “I suppose I’d better get started, then.”
The shop went silent except for the hum of the refrigerator as he took a bite of Irene’s berry pie. He chewed, swallowed, and blinked. “That’s…” He paused dramatically. “Dangerously good.”
Irene preened like a peacock. “Naturally.”
Then he tried his mother’s pie. The flavor hit his senses and, to his surprise, he actually groaned. Her pie tasted like home. “Oh. That’s unfair. They’re both…”
