“Go on, tell us,” Paddy ordered.
“Equal,” TJ finished, trying not to grin.
“Traitor,” Irene said, pointing her oven mitt at him.
Paddy burst out laughing. “He’s diplomatic! Must get that from his mother.”
Lila exhaled a laugh of her own, her tension easing. “See? Everyone wins.”
“Hmmph,” Irene huffed. “I’ll allow it this time.” She turned toward Polly. “Come on, let’s take some of these back to the inn to serve as dessert tonight.”
Paddy caught the glint in Irene’s eyes and smiled. “Ye just want to brag to Cyrus and Wilfred that ye almost won.”
“Almost?” Irene sniffed. “Ididwin. The boy just didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings.” She gathered their things and headed out the door, Polly and Paddy right behind her.
Suddenly, the shop grew quiet.
Lila wiped her hands on her apron and turned toward TJ. He was still leaning against the counter, fork in hand, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who’d just survived a bake-off.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “They can get… spirited.”
He laughed under his breath. “I noticed. I think I’ve seen calmer rugby matches.”
Lila rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “It’s always like this. I keep hoping one day they’ll act their age, but…”
“Wouldn’t trade them for anything,” he finished softly.
She hesitated, her heart giving an odd little twist. “Nor would I.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the sound of a car passing in the street outside, and the tick of the wall clock.
TJ glanced at the leftover slice in front of him. “You didn’t try any,” he said.
“Oh, I… no, I probably…”
“Health code?” he teased.
Her cheeks warmed. “You remembered.”
“Hard not to,” he said. “You’ve mentioned it about six times since I got here.”
Lila laughed and gave in, taking a fork. “Fine, just a bite.” She tasted Mrs. Jones’s pie, then Irene’s, and groaned softly. “Okay, I admit it. They’re both incredible.”
“Told you,” he said with a grin. “I notice they made off with Irene’s apple pie.”
They stood close now, shoulder to shoulder, both pretending to focus on the pies. Lila realized for the first time they were alone, or was Grandma in the storeroom?
“You know,” TJ said after a long moment, “I think your shop has officially ruined me. I’m never going to be able to drink bad coffee again.”
Lila looked up at him, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his voice. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “Not bad at all.”
The air between them shifted. Soft, uncertain, but full of something that made her heart stumble. Then, mercifully the bell over the door jingled again.
“Ah, there you are!” Grandma’s cheerful voice carried through the shop.
Lila jumped back a step, nearly dropping her fork. She looked down the hall, then at the door. “Grandma! Where did you run off to?”
