A thick drop of frosting slides down his eyebrow.
And then I burst into laughter.
Cody swipes at the frosting and holds his finger out in front of himself. And then his loud, full laughter layers with mine.
“I’m officially a bakery crime scene!” I say, looking down at myself.
Cody’s still laughing. “Should I call Grey to bring around the hazmat truck?” He flicks frosting off his cheek—and misses. It just smears.
“The bag was clogged! I had the situation under control.”
“Obviously,” he says with another chuckle. Then he swipes a towel off the counter and starts rubbing the sugary shrapnel off his shirt and pants.
I wish he—of all people—didn’t have a front-row seat in the splash zone of my frosting mishap.
I look down and another glob lands on the counter. I chuckle.
“Well. I’d better clean this up.”
“Here. Let me help,” Cody offers.
“Didn’t you come back here for something?” I need to get Cody out of my sphere of mortification.
“Oh, yeah.” He walks toward a side table. “I need these.” He picks up a stack of the pink bakery boxes emblazoned with the shop logo. Then he says, “I’ll be back,” and disappears out the swinging door into the bakery.
I blow out a long breath into the space he leaves behind. Then I busy myself looking for some towels.
Hours after I arrived, we’ve cleaned up the Great Buttercream Blowout. I’m in a borrowed shirt from Sydney—who lives in the apartment over the bakery. Cody’s wearing the T-shirt he had on under his station shirt. Of course the man looks good even after a frosting disaster, while I probably look like I stuck my head in the industrial mixer.
We’re all lingering in the now-empty front of the bakery. Sitting around tables, while Patrick leans against the wall and Dustin stands off to the other side with his arm slung loosely around Emberleigh’s shoulder. Dustin is recounting some of the more memorable moments of this morning’s rush when my phone buzzes with a text notification. Syd’s and Emberleigh’s go off a second later.
We all grab for our cells.
“Group text,” Emberleigh says to Dustin.
“You book club girls,” Dustin says with affection in his voice.
I glance at my screen.
McKenna: Reminder: I land TOMORROW. I’ll be thegirl in sunglasses, looking like I’ve been living in Hollywood for months.
A grin blooms—big, warm, like my whole soul just turned on a light behind my face. My best friend’s coming home. Six months of McKenna in Tennessee again—my favorite person in my favorite place.
Carli: I’m counting down the hours—not like I’m eager or anything ;) (P.S. It’s 20 hours and 10 minutes … or something like that).
McKenna: Carli, this is what I love about you.
Carli: My ability to keep time?
McKenna: The way you always lay out the welcome mat and we pick up right where we left off. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.
Sydney: Can’t wait to see you, Mac!
Emberleigh: Book club meeting as soon as you’re settled! Or at least, girls’ night.
Cass: Is there a difference? Aren’t we always talking about books?
Winona: Squeeeee! Can’t wait to give you the biggest hug! Do you look the same? Has Hollywood changed you?
