A recipe can’t make me fall in love with running a bakery in my hometown.
But I’m starting to realize there’s no way out of it.
No matter what Dane says about letting my family figure this out themselves.
They need me.
“I knew you could do it,” Grandma says.
The lights flicker on.
Mom’s watching me like she knows I’m on the verge of tears, but Grandma shoves the delicate yellowed paper at me. “Let’s get started. We open in an hour.”
My pulse is hammering. My mouth is dry. My throat feels thick.
I didn’t have any problem standing up to Dane’s uncle earlier this morning, but I can’t tell my own grandmother that I don’t want—that Ican’trun her bakery.
I keep messing this up.
And I don’t know if there’s any way for me to fix it.
Chapter 25
Dane
“You’re very stressed for a man who’s marrying the love of his life tomorrow,” Lorelei says as we stroll down Kringle Lane toward the Gingerbread House.
I slide a look at her.
We’re both in light jackets and sunglasses. Everything’s still wet from the storm last night, though the sky is blue and cloudless and the sun is working on clearing up the puddles. The crews are out placing the life-size snow globes where they’ll fit downtown, with the rest planned for a display in Reindeer Square.
Yes, it’s early to set out holiday decorations.
But that’s how we do it in Tinsel.
“Just saying, weddings should be happy,” Lorelei adds.
“Uncle Rob gave us a shitty apology this morning.”
“Esme stopped to get gas after they left Amanda’s place. She kicked him out of the car and told him to walk the rest of the way home and think about what he’d done. You could uninvite him if you don’t want him there.”
“That’ll be great for the rest of our lives.”
She doesn’t answer, and I cringe to myself. “Sorry for the sarcasm,” I say quietly. “Not your fault some of our families are still being dicks.”
She loops her arm through mine and squeezes. “No apology necessary. It’s frustrating for me, too, and I’m not the one trying to marry an Anderson.”
“You’ve been friends with Amanda longer than I’ve known her name. This matters for you too.”
“It’s a lot easier to sneak around being someone’s friend when they’re only in town a couple weeks a year than it is to sneak around being married to someone.”
I glance at her again.
She grins. “Itis.”
“This sucks.”
“It does, but look what you two have already done. You’ve won over our parents to the point that I think they might even become friends. That’s something. And I like Kimberly. A lot, actually. Which makes sense, considering how much I like Amanda.”
