“Burke’s idea,” Grant said.
“Of course it was,” she murmured, smiling faintly.
Behind her, boots and effort broke through the quiet.
“Where you want this, boss?”
Jose and Ben came through carrying the long farmhouse table between them.
Grant jerked his chin. “Center. Under the middle run.”
They set it down with a solid thud.
Izzy stepped in without asking, nudging one end.
“Just a touch more… there.”
Jose glanced at Grant.
Grant gave a small nod.
“Looks good,” Jose said.
Grant’s gaze moved past them.
Coolers. Covered dishes. More food than he expected.
He looked back at her.
“Smells like you didn’t take it easy.”
Izzy didn’t even look up.
“I hope you know,” she said calmly, “if the food isn’t good, that is entirely on you.”
Grant folded his arms. “On me.”
“You’re the one who decided I was handling it.”
A corner of his mouth moved. “You’re doing alright so far.”
She paused just long enough to hear it.
Then kept moving. “We’ll see.”
“Leigh from Cotton Leigh Bakery’s bringing the cake later,” Burke said, stepping in. “Said she’s got something special.”
Izzy glanced over. “Define special.”
“Cotton Leigh special.”
Grant nodded once. “That’ll be good.”
Burke’s mouth twitched. “She said—and I quote—a ‘humdinger of a cake.’”
Izzy laughed. “Well, now I feel like I’m in competition.”
“You are,” Grant said.
