“Easy, and you’re right. I think this is going to work.”
The energy in the room shifted. She was getting excited about the project too. “It’s going to be amazing,” he said.
“I love it. Maybe a few edible reeds.” She waved her hands in gentle strokes above an imaginary cake. “A couple of cattails? Just for balance?”
“Yeah, and I’m thinking a wide-mouthed bass.” He held his hands up to show the approximate size that seemed right for the cake.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’ve done dozens of them. I made a cake mold for fish a few years ago.” She grabbed a notebook from the shelf. “Here are some pictures. I use it all the time, then I use sculpting chocolate to give it a little texture before airbrushing it.”
He stepped in tight, peering over her shoulder as she flipped the plastic-coated pages of the binder. “Oh yeah, that looks real. He’s going to love it.”
“I hope so. Let’s do this.” She turned and raised her hand to high-five him like they’d always done when a plan had come together.
And just like before, his hand met hers. He gently laced his fingers between hers. For that second, him leaving to go to Paris never happened and that perfect feeling was back. Things had once been so good.
She tugged her hand back. “We’d better get started.”
“Right. Yes.” He’d almost blown it. He was glad he hadn’t totally spooked her off. If he’d tugged her in after lacing his fingers through hers, then spun her…she’d have surely freaked. “I haven’t been this stoked about a project in a while.” He was excited to be actually creating something from no plan. It was exhausting following the rules of a world-renowned menu of someone else’s design. Besides, it would be good practice for him. “Thanks for letting me help.”
“This doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going to have time to play or go off with you tomorrow. You know that, right?”
“I don’t even care. We’re here now.”
“Then let’s get to work.” She grabbed an apron from a drawer and tossed it to him. “Here.” She put hers on.
He glanced at the feminine design, then shrugged and put it on without a complaint.
“With all the sugar glass, are you sure we can we pull this off before you leave town?”
“We’ll finish it tonight if you’re up to it,” he said. “Piece of cake.”
“Don’t tell me,” Kelly said as she slid the chocolate cake recipe in front of him. “No pun intended?”
“Make no mistake,” he said. “Everything I do is intentional.”
Chapter Nine
It was a little awkward being in the kitchen with Andrew again, but once they got to work, their rhythm came right back and those worries fell away. He preheated the oven, gathered the dry ingredients, and put them in the mixer while she started the process of working the wet ingredients together.
“Do you mind getting the pans prepared?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Andrew said.
She was half surprised that he didn’t mind taking on the menial task. “They’re on the second rack over there. The square ones. Three.”
He tapped a drumbeat on the bottom of the pans as he went to the other end of the huge worktable to butter and flour them. “Why three?”
“It’s the groom’s cake. It can’t outshine the wedding cake, but it still needs to have enough size to it to be a focal point too. I’m thinking of doing two dark chocolate fudge layers and a white chocolate layer. The contrast will look pretty when it’s cut, plus I can use the leftover white chocolate cake mix for the fish.”
“Sounds like a great plan.”
She was surprised at how smoothly it was going. He’d taken her instructions and completed each task without complaint. He was actually very helpful.
“So it’s really weird being back in town,” he said. “I left and didn’t keep up with anyone, so in my head everything here stayed the same. But seeing everyone at the party tonight, I realized everyone has moved on and things have changed a whole lot.”
“Main Street Cafe hasn’t changed.”
“Not true. There’s outdoor seating now. Nice touch, I have to say.”
“Well, that’s the only change.”
“Thank goodness. The café is a landmark. If it wasn’t here, I wouldn’t believe I was home.”
She turned on the mixer. “Where is home now for you? Paris? Or do you still consider Bailey’s Fork home?”
“I don’t know.” His face clouded with uneasiness. “Both?”
“No. It has to be one or the other,” she said, standing her ground.
He stopped, and for a moment she wasn’t sure he was going to respond. “Does it?”
“Yeah. I think it does,” she said as she stirred. Then she stopped. “You know what? I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business. Let’s change the subject.”
“Okay. That works for me.” He wiped his hands on a towel and tucked it into the ties of his apron. “Do you want me to work on the chocolate or the peanut butter frosting?”
“The chocolate, please.”
“Great.”
It wouldn’t kill her to let him run with the chocolate frosting. It was just for the crumb coat anyway. The fondant would hide any flaws, and if there was one thing she knew she could trust it was that whatever he made would taste good. She could never, would never, deny his talent or palate, but his comment about everything being intentional still gnawed at her. What did he want from her?
They tag-teamed putting the cakes in the oven.
“I’m not sure I’ve really saved you any time,” he said, glancing at the clock, “but this is going to be one heckuva cake.”
Enthusiasm coursed through her veins. “I can’t wait to see it all come together.”
“Let’s get the sugar work going.”
She clapped her hands. She couldn’t help herself. It was exciting to learn a new technique.
“I promise you it’s not as hard as everyone makes it seem.” Andrew took over, grabbing pans and taking control of
