“Oreo!” Austin yells. “Drop it!”
The dog does not drop it.
What follows is a three-ring circus of chaos. Oreo weaves between customers, leaving frosting paw prints on the floor, shoes, and, oddly, a little kid’s balloon. The entire crew chases him, which only makes him think it’s a game.
He runs straight to Winnie and then stops short, sitting at her feet, tail wagging, presenting the mangled cake like a gift.
Even the dog loves her.
Winnie crouches down, laughing as Oreo pants happily, frosting covering his muzzle like a beard. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”
“He just stole merchandise.”
“He has excellent taste.” She scratches behind his ears, and Oreo leans into it with pleasure.
I take a photo because I can’t help myself—Winnie in her red sweater, laughing at a frosting-covered Dalmatian who clearly adores her.
Just like I do.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
I’m in love with her.
The realization hits like a sledgehammer. I’m not falling anymore. I’ve already fallen.
“You okay?” Winnie looks up at me, concern in her eyes.
“Yeah. Just—” I clear my throat. I give my head a shake, wondering if a wire came loose from stress and lack of sleep, but is that anything new? No, it’s what motivates me, what I thrive on.
The afternoon crowd thins around three, and the crew gathers in the back to celebrate.
“The line was out the door,” Hayes says.
James adds, “We sold out of everything and have special orders for next week.”
Austin claps me on the shoulder. “You did it, brother. Captain Kendrick would be proud.”
The words should feel good. They do, but a nagging feeling of guilt draws me out of revelry.
The bet.
I need to tell Winnie before someone else does. Before things between us go further.
But then Grandma Joyce and Grandma Judy arrive at the back door, both carrying Tupperware containers.
“Boys!” Joyce announces. “We’ve been discussing your menu.”
“You need brownies,” Judy adds. “Crush Cake brownies.”
Barging in, they set their containers on the counter, revealing their competing brownie recipes.
“Mine have a cream cheese swirl,” Joyce says proudly.
“Mine has salted caramel drizzle,” Judy counters.
“Cream cheese is classic.”
