There’s a lull after that. Tension curls in me as I watch through the garage door windows, scanning for an influx of customers.
Soon enough, the bell rings, and Lake strides in, rubbing his palms. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”
Miller and Riggs follow him, and Miller points at Lake while speaking to me. “This is his happy place. It’s his only happy place.”
Lake shoots our goalie a stern stare. “It’s not myonlyhappy place. I’ve got a few others.”
Riggs holds up a stop-sign hand. “Don’t want to know about your happy places.”
“Guys,” I warn, nodding toward Charlotte, who’s folding napkins.
Ivan strolls in right behind them, holds out his arms wide, and says, “I will take one of everything.”
Mabel blows him a kiss. “And I love you most of all.”
Riggs asks for a slice of the London Fog cake, and I steal a glance at Mabel, giving her anI told you sosmile. I knew that it would be a good one for the menu.
Mabel slices it. “Thank you so much for helping set this up,” she says, nodding to the furniture.
“Anything for the GM’s sister,” Riggs says with a wink.
They head to a table as a pack of Mabel’s friends wander in. My buddy Ford is with them. He retired from the Sea Dogs recently, and he’s here with his fiancée, Skylar, a friend of Mabel’s, as well as the rest of her crew, including Remy. She organizes a ton of community events that the Foxes do.
“Amazing work,” she says of the bakery when I give her a nod and say hi.
Lake snaps his gaze in her direction, lingering longer than I would have expected. It’s like seeing her in this context throws him off.
After that, I can’t clock everyone’s reaction, because I’ve got cookies to serve.
Things slow down again after that, followed by another rush. I’m glad, so damn glad, this one isn’t full of family or friends. There’s Luis from some clothing shop on Main Street. Then the woman who runs the Green Pantry, along with her kids. Next comes the barista from Rise and Grind, saying our cookies are better than the ones in her shop.
After that, someone I don’t know comes in, and then a whole lot of other strangers.
Soon enough, someone I know well strolls in.
Sarah and her towhead toddler son.
“Hey,” I say to the woman with the blonde pixie cut and the tattoos snaking down the pale skin of her arms. Mabel arches a curious brow, but then Charlotte waves and says, “Hi, Mom. Hi, Benny.”
Mabel waves too, and smiles, and my shoulders relax.
Huh.
Did I think she’d be jealous? Wonder if she was curious about my relationship with Sarah?
For fuck’s sake, man, you’re thinking about her far too much.
I clear my throat. “Mabel, I want you to meet Charlotte’s mom. This is Sarah. And Sarah, this is Mabel.”
Dammit, just saying her name makes my lips twist in a smile that might give me away. I school my expression. “She’s the genius behind this entire place. She had the idea, the name, the concept, the colors, and the foundation for the menu. The marketing. I’m just lucky to be along for the ride.”
Mabel blushes and waves a hand like she’s done none of those things, but I can tell she’s happy. It radiates from her. It’s in the color that stains her cheeks beautifully, and it’s in her hand that pushes my shoulder playfully.
“Don’t let the humble act of his fool you,” she says to Sarah. “He is a pretty damn good baker, and he keeps me organized and balanced and…” She stops to look at me. “He’s my biggest cheerleader.”
Sarah’s quiet for a long beat, then she smiles and finally says, “Sounds like you two are a perfect match.”
I flinch, wondering if Sarah’s onto us. But Mabel simply laughs. Charlotte scurries out from around the counter to show Benny around the bakery.
