Page 23

“I’ve been working on many things.”

“Good. City bakers always think altitude is a rumor.” Her smile sharpens. “It isn’t.”

We’re adults. We can share a sink without committing felonies. I focus on my own prep, arranging my gear exactly as I always do. My tools are old friends and the cool weight of my aluminum rolling pin gives me comfort. I set out my infrared thermometer, the tamis and the dark bottle of my secret Applejack potion.

Through the pass-through I can see Gideon and his brothers move to a table in the front of the house. Zephyr and Slade look beat. I haven’t met the whole family yet, but I’m sure they had a rough overnight shift keeping everyone’s lights on. Gideon laughs at something Zephyr says, then his eyes cut toward the kitchen as if he feels me staring.

I turn back to my board while Nell watches me measure flour like she’s grading me.

“I know you’re staying up at his house,” she says with extra sugar in her voice. “Playing house. It’s cute. But you’re not his type, honey. He needs someone who understands what it means to build a life here. Someone he’s ready to start a family with.” She finally meets my eyes. “And I ought to know.”

My fingers go still on the rim of the mixing bowl as I keep my face as blank as possible trying not to jump to conclusions, but of course there might be history between her and Gideon. Fake engagement or not, something sour curdles in my gut.

I open my mouth, having no idea what to say, as the swinging door opens.

“Someone mention my name?” Gideon’s voice is different; there’s a punch to it and the easygoing demeanor he had earlier is gone. His broad frame fills the doorway as he stands there, taking ownership of the room. His dark eyes pivot from Nell to me, then back, meeting my eyes.

I’m frozen, searching for an escape, but there’s nowhere to run. He crosses the space in three long strides and wraps his enormous arms around me from behind, pulling me back flush against his brick wall chest. The gesture is a clear challenge, daring her to say another word.

“Missed you.” He nuzzles behind my ear, sounding entirely genuine, as if he couldn’t stand being away from me, even though we’re in the same building.

Nell focuses on his hands, the way he’s gripping my waist, shifting her gaze up to my face as her smile vanishes and lips become a straight line. “I should check the front.” She sets down her pin. “Clara needed … nutmeg. Or something.” She leaves, pushing the door hard enough to make it bang against the wall. Gideon doesn’t let go of me.

“You okay?” he asks against my hair.

“I’m fine. Your private life is none of my business.” My voice comes out thin. “I know that. I do. It’s just …”

He turns me in his arms, forcing me to meet his gaze, and reads my doubt in a single glance. “But you want to know.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“But I want to.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I give up, pushing back against the truth and his chest. “I’m so overwhelmed, I don’t think I can handle any more distractions. I have two pies to track, and the timing has to be perfect.” It’s only a half-lie.

He steps back, grabs an apron from the hook that is so small on him, it’s silly, and ties it anyway. “I’m all yours tonight,” he offers in a sexy tone I haven’t heard before. “And she doesn’t get to speak to you that way in my mother’s bakery. Tell me what you need.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to.”

“I said I’d do anything and everything to help you win. Tomorrow’s the big day. Give me a job, curvy spice.”

“Really?” I grin at the miracle of finally having someone on my side I can trust. I have no idea how good a baker he is, but at least I know he won’t try to sabotage me.

I show him how to work the pumpkin puree through the tamis. “It has to be perfect silk,” I tell him, and he nods, watching me carefully. “The secret is adding the Applejack and mace infusion at the very end. That’s what makes the other ingredients pop.”

When he steps out for a quick minute to take a call from his brother Creed, Nell barges in with a bag of bread flour and a twisted grin. I’d hoped she’d left, and do my best to ignore her.

Just as I’m reaching for my apothecary bottle with the last of my irreplaceable extract, Nell’s elbow clips the base. I gasp as the bottle hits the stainless edge of the counter, spins, and I catch it before it shatters. A spray of amber liquid hits the counter, but I didn’t lose the whole bottle.

“Oh my God,” Nell shrieks, reaching for a towel. “I’m so clumsy. That’s the fancy stuff, isn’t it? From Chicago?”

I twist the cap back on the bottle as the smell of boozy apples rises between us, bringing back the awful memory of the enzyme that was added to my dessert to destroy it, the temperature of the walk-in that had amazingly dropped fifty degrees, and the way no one believed I was sabotaged because I didn’t have proof.

“It’s fine,” I hear myself respond flatly. It’s anything but fine, nevertheless, if I start pointing fingers, she’ll call me a paranoid city girl making excuses. I put the bottle back in my Pelican case and click the latches.

By the time she finally leaves, it’s getting late, and a cold dread settles over me. I check the temperature of my oven. Sure enough, it’s five degrees higher than I set it. So Nell is trying to shake me up, and wreck my chances of winning. I grip the counter, fighting the urge to storm out after her, but what would I say? I’m still shaking with fury when Gideon strolls back into the room.

He reads my face and frowns. “What happened?”