“I just want them to try making it. It’s only four steps if you don’t count crying while you wait for the ganache to cool.”
“Five steps. You forgot eating half the caramel with a spoon.”
Bristol laughed. Having Jayla here—first as her best friend, then as her co-producer/assistant—had made the move to Dallas bearable and then wonderful. They’d found a rhythm, both on set and off, that felt like the life she’d always wanted and never dreamed she’d be able to build.
Jayla studied her face, her smile turning upside down into a frown. “You look washed out. Tyler!” She waved the makeup artist over. “Give her more blush. She can’t look like a cadaver on camera.”
“I’m fine,” Bristol protested.
“We’re rolling in twenty minutes. Fine doesn’t cut it.” Jayla gave her a look that dared her to argue.
Mutely, Bristol submitted to Tyler’s brush. Normally, she’d make herself heard. She didn’t let anyone run her over anymore. But today there were extenuating circumstances. Today was…special. She’d explain to Jayla once she could.
As that thought circled, her phone buzzed on the nearby counter. Bristol glanced at the screen. Presleigh.
“Hey, you. I can’t talk long. We’re about to tape.”
“That’s okay. I just called to wish you a happy early anniversary. I can’t believe you and Jesse have almost been married a year! And I wanted to hear your voice. But everything is fine. Just call me back when you can. No rush.”
Her sister sounded lighter these days, more grounded. Losing Hayden, then Corey months after their June wedding two years ago had nearly broken her, but single motherhood had done what pageants and coddling never could. It had forced Presleigh to figure out who she was without a man defining her. She’d found the strength to pick herself up by her bootstraps and carry on all by herself. Bristol was sorry for what her sister had been through, but it had given Presleigh the hard lessons she’d needed. She’d finally grown up, and Bristol was proud of the woman Pres was becoming.
In the background, a toddler shrieked with laughter, and something in Bristol’s chest went soft.
“Aww, I hear my pretty little niece. Give Jordan a kiss for me. I’ll call you tonight after we wrap.”
“Perfect. I’ll be done with my online class by then. Love you, Bris.”
“Love you, too.”
She pocketed her phone as Tyler finished her touch-up. The director, a wiry woman named Grace who ran the set with calm precision, stepped over to adjust the cake’s position under the lights. “We’re going to open on you at the counter. Will Jesse be here today?”
That was the great thing about the show they’d created. It wasn’t just about her and her confections. Mostly…but Jesse was welcome anytime the mood struck him. And he appeared on camera a lot—not because anyone demanded it, but because he wanted to share the experience with her. That freedom had been the whole point. No handlers, no publicists dictating his schedule, no image to perform. Some episodes he wandered in with his guitar. Others, he stayed in his home studio down the hall, writing. If he wasn’t feeling like Jesse McCall the rock star, the “product” on any given day, he could just be Jesse the man. Her husband and the love of her life.
It was the perfect solution for them.
“Any minute, I think. He said he wanted to be here.”
“Great.” Grace smiled, looking at something just over her shoulder. “Ready for him now?”
“Always.” Bristol turned.
And her heart flipped over.
Jesse stood in the doorway to the studio, guitar slung across his body, smiling in a way she’d come to know as well as her own reflection. Not the rock-star grin with the calculated dimples—the real one, slightly lopsided, a little boyish, the one he wore when he had a secret. Or the one that tilted his lips when he’d written something he was proud of. The cameras wouldn’t catch the difference. The audience at home would simply see Jesse McCall, chart-topping songwriter and television personality. Bristol simply saw her husband.
He crossed the set and slid an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How’s my beautiful wife?”
Bristol smiled up at him, but her stomach fluttered with something new. Something nervous. She was going to have to tell him soon. They hadn’t planned this. Hadn’t even talked about it, like they did everything else. She just hoped he wouldn’t be upset.
“Good.”
“You look great.” His grin widened.
Crazy. A year of marriage and he could still make her blush so easily. “You do, too. And you seem excited. Care to share?”
“I wrote something this morning. It just…poured out.” His dark eyes were lit up, alive in a way that still made her heart skip. “Played it for Dan. He’s losing his mind. Naturally, he wants me to record it.”
“Naturally. What are you going to do?”
