Hal’s exasperated sigh has my head snapping up.
“How does it feel to be in the final three?”
“Like the longest ten weeks of my life,” I say, forcing a smile that lands closer to a grimace.
“And what would winning mean to you?”
I pause, weighing the answer. My eyes rove over my competition, then roll back to the camera. “It would be incredible, but I’m not the only one here who deserves it.”
Hal claps once, nodding in approval, and returns to his mumbled conversation with the cameraman. When he realizes we’re still sitting here waiting for direction, he waves an apathetic hand in dismissal.
Taylor reaches for my hand, tucking her body in close to mine as we walk back toward the tent’s opening. Joe cuts acrossour path, pausing with his clipboard in hand. “Anyone planning to stay longer? Or are we calling it for today?”
“I’m ready to call it,” I mutter, stretching my shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m good to head back to the house, too.” Diane shrugs, nonchalant. “Whatever happens now, happens.”
I can’t match her ease, and judging by the way Taylor keeps shifting her weight back and forth, neither can she. I try to imagine letting the tension drain and just being good with whatever happens tomorrow, but I’m too keyed up.
I glance around one last time, at the near-complete decorations glinting in the early evening light. Crew members move to test the lights along the bunting, the banquet tables now lined with white plates, sparkling glassware catching the last of the sun. A flag flutters lazily against the backdrop of a clear sky, and the faint scent of barbecue smoke drifts from a prep station near the edge of the lawn.
Tomorrow, this lawn will be full of supportive faces as one of us wins the entire competition. Whoever it is will be standing in the center of it all with a gaudy platinum rolling pin raised overhead.
A deep breath fills my chest. The anticipation, the nervous excitement, the stakes—it all courses through me like electricity. And somehow, amid the tension, despite being forced to be here, I’m looking forward to completing the challenge. I’m about to pour everything I am into one cake.
Tomorrow, it all comes together.
Tomorrow, someone wins.
CHAPTER 26: TAYLOR
Our beloved production crew must have worked all night to accomplish the mind-blowingly patriotic overhaul of theAmerica’s Next Great Bakerlawn while we were gone.
That’s literally the only explanation.
When we left last night, they had set up tables, chairs, and decorations that felt more like a barbecue than anything else.
But this is next-level.
Every table on the lawn is decorated with red, white, and blue flower centerpieces, each topped with tiny Uncle Sam hats and massive confetti balloons tethered by shiny metallic weights with tassels that shimmer in the breeze.
Jumbo chess and Jenga games have been set up for guests, along with cornhole, ladder ball, and a bubble station. Bright red and blue bounce houses—and even an obstacle course with a water slide—sit at the far end of the lawn.
“Can you believe they did all this?” I turn, breathlessly taking it all in. It immediately takes me back to time spent at Cambria’s summer festival. Mom and Gran would take me and my brother every year before money got too tight and relationships too complicated.
“It’s the finale,” Diane answers simply. “Looks like they take the idea of ‘go big or go home’ seriously.”
Alex leans closer to me as we walk toward the tent.
“Bet I can beat you at the obstacle course later.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glinting with challenge.
“Hmmm… What do I get when I win?” I hum, playfully tapping a finger against my lips in thought.
Alex dips his head, lips brushing my ear. “I have a couple of ideas.”
He nuzzles briefly into my hair before we separate for our stations. When he pulls back, that lopsided smirk is waiting for me.
His expression suggests those ideas are definitely not obstacle-course related. Immediately, heat kisses my cheeks, and I press my cool hands against them as I slide into my apron.
