I shove all of that out of my mind as Corbin hands me the final fondant heart.
What a change—the last time I decorated a cake in front of Ronnie it was for a local contest and streamed on local TV. Now it’s being recorded and my ex is sitting there with a backward baseball cap on, holding hands with a woman in a silver dress that looks like it was made of Spanx. More power to her. She’s hot, and that’s fine with me. I don’t care about him. His presence doesn’t stress me out. His words don’t concern me. He’s just…the past. If I moved past the way I ran out of Cozy Valley, I can move past him.
“You’ve got this,” Corbin whispers encouragingly as Ronnie prowls the set, pacing in front of the open-faced kitchen that leads into the living room where the couples sit.
“You’re right, Sapphire,” Ronnie crows. “They’ll both serve it. What a comeback—last time Mabel baked in public, it didn’t go well, but she’s holding her own now.”
Tension spikes in my chest, but Corbin shoots me a look that says:ignore them.
Drama feeds reality TV. I’m not feeding it back.
Sapphire glides over to Dax on the couch, who’s busy petting his girlfriend’s leg. “So, Dax,” the show hostess says sweetly, “how is it watching your ex become a popular baker? You didn’t say very nice things about her.”
Oh, they’re baiting Dax.
But Corbin skates to the puck first. “You sure didn’t,” Corbin says, his voice smooth as ice.
It’s protective and sexy. And I won’t let Dax distract me either. I focus on smoothing the icing. No mistakes. Not this time.
Dax gives a lazy shrug. “Well, let’s see if she messes it up again.”
And—seriously?—he startswalking over.
Corbin’s hand lands gently on my back. “We’ve got this,” he murmurs.
“It’s hard to turn your life around,” Dax says, all faux sympathy.
What did I ever see in him? Oh, right—bad choices. Everyone makes them.
“Itishard to change, Dax. You’re a case in point,” I say sweetly. “But I changed because I owned up to my mistakes—like dating you.”
Sapphire’s gasp is delightfully dramatic.
Corbin grins, puffing out his chest. “She found someone better.”
Dax snorts. “Yeah, well, let’s see how this cake is,” he says, taking another swaggering step.
That’s when Corbin subtly stretches his leg under the table. The toe of his shoe nudges something long and narrow. The hockey stick slides forward and right into Dax’s path.
Dax doesn’t look down. He’s fixated on me, swagger in his step, but his foot catches on the hockey stick. For a second he teeters, arms windmilling like a cartoon, then gravity wins.
He belly-flops into the heart-shaped cake, pink frosting and vanilla cake smearing across his chin and chest.
The sound guy snorts. A producer shouts, “Keep rolling.” Someone else barks out, “Get a close-up.”
Sapphire gasps. Ronnie’s jaw drops.
But Corbin’s the picture of calm. Giving Dax a chin nod, he says dryly, “Watch out, buddy. Those hockey sticks can trip you up.”
Dax glares at him, but with his chin smeared in pink icing, it’s hard to take him seriously.
“Enjoy the smash cake,” I say sweetly. Maybe I’m a little petty. But also prepared.
I turn to Ronnie. “Good thing I baked a backup.”
A little later, once Dax has been toweled off, Corbin brings out the second cake, and we serve perfect slices to all the couples.
As I set the last plate down, I flash afast on my feetsmile at the camera. “And you can all get your very own smash cake at Afternoon Delight.”
