by Leigh Duncan
“Why, that’s right around the corner. I guess you’ll be busy finalizing things while you’re here.” Marybeth clucked sympathetically.
“Actually, I’m just starting. Tom and I had planned to wait until next spring,” she said, sticking to the story she and Karolyn had agreed on. “When I heard of a cancellation at the Captain’s Cottage, we rearranged our schedule. I’ve always wanted a Heart’s Landing wedding.” That was the absolute truth. “But it’ll be a simple wedding, so I’m hoping to handle everything over the next two weeks.” After that, she’d fly back to California and oversee the last-minute details from there. Smiling, wrapped a loose strand of hair around her finger and gave it a good-luck tug.
“If you haven’t chosen your baker yet, be sure to stop by I Do Cakes on Bridal Carriage. Nick is a good friend of ours, and he makes the best cakes.” Marybeth paused. “A month, though. That’s not much lead time.” She gave her chin a thoughtful tap. “I probably shouldn’t have suggested that particular bakery. Nick usually books up months ahead.”
Jenny allowed herself a small smile. One mention of her famous cousin’s name would move her to the head of any line.
Except, she couldn’t do that, could she?
Her smile faltered. She’d grown so used to dropping Karolyn’s name whenever she needed a last-minute reservation that she hadn’t stopped to consider how she was supposed to get things done without anyone discovering her connection to the movie star.
Suddenly, planning her cousin’s wedding didn’t sound as easy as she’d expected it to be. Though she’d lined up a series of appointments before she’d left L.A., she had no guarantees that the vendors could fit Kay’s wedding into their schedules. She checked her watch. There was no time to waste. If she left right now, she could stop by the bakery for an impromptu taste testing before her dinner reservation.
Nick touched one finger to the bottom of one of the four dozen cupcakes he’d pulled from the oven an hour earlier. It had cooled enough to decorate, which meant the others had, too. He surveyed the collection of ingredients he’d gathered on the counter. Tomorrow’s special would feature a salted caramel base covered in his famed buttercream frosting. Topped with a light sprinkling of crushed toffee and a drizzle of chocolate ganache, the customer favorite would sell out by mid-morning.
Unease rippled through him. He pressed a fist to his chest. A slight frown bent his brows inward. He gave the assembled equipment a second glance. Everything he needed sat ready and waiting, so why was he on edge?
Jimmy.
The urge to treat himself to a serious facepalm rippled through him when he hit on the reason for the extra tension in his shoulders. Though he’d been working with the young baker for some time now, today Jimmy was making his first solo delivery. Not that there was anything to worry about. He and his apprentice had delivered cakes throughout the area these past few weeks. On every occasion, the young man had proven up to the task. Jimmy followed orders without complaint and, the few times he’d slipped up, he’d learned from his mistakes. Take the delivery they’d made to the Cottage, for example. After brushing the curb that one time, Jimmy had steered clear of anything that might jar the precious cargo in the back of the van.
Nick gave the strings of his apron an extra tug. Jimmy’s training had been going well. So well, in fact, he’d started watching for a chance to let the boy handle things on his own. Not a wedding, of course. Though he’d be the first to sing the young man’s praises, an apprentice baker with Jimmy’s level of experience wasn’t ready for that kind of pressure. But weddings weren’t the only events the bakery handled.
When Mrs. Halperteen had called to ask if Nick could put her son’s birthday party onto the schedule, he’d found the perfect opportunity and had promptly handed the job to Jimmy. Though he’d kept a close eye on each step of the process, his young protégé had handled every aspect—from sitting down with the mother of the birthday boy to designing and executing a swim party-themed cake. He’d even followed the bakery’s tradition of going one step beyond by decorating a dozen matching cupcakes to use as party favors.
Nick smiled. He really had nothing to worry about. Jimmy was a talented young baker with a good head on his shoulders. He’d been right to let the boy handle this customer on his own.
Content that he’d identified the source of his concern and dealt with it, Nick returned to work. He’d carefully spooned a helping of icing into the decorating bag and had just dipped up a second one when his cell phone buzzed. Tempted to let the caller go to voicemail, he glanced at the screen. His stomach clenched.
“Oh, boy,” he whispered. So much for nothing to worry about. He set his decorating equipment aside. Mustering a tone far calmer than he felt, he managed, “Hey, what’s up?”
“Um, I’m so sorry, Mr. Bell. I don’t know what happened. I just—”
“Take a breath, Jimmy,” Nick said while images of car crashes and ambulances filled his thoughts. “Did anyone get hurt? Are you all right?”
“What? No, it’s nothing like that.”
Nick followed his own advice and took a breath, a relieved one at that. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear it. So, what’s up?” There had to be a reason for the call and, judging from the note of panic in Jimmy’s voice, he’d bet it was a serious one.
“I’m at the Halperteen residence. I delivered the cake, just like you showed me. Mrs. Halperteen, she wants me to stick around and serve it in a little bit, and I don’t mind. The kids are so cute. You should see the Halperteen boy. He’s wearing these water wings that are bigger than he is.”
“Cut to the chase, Jimmy,” Nick interrupted while his heart race slowed to near-normal.
“Oh, right. I, um, I forgot the cupcakes. I thought they were in the van, honest I did. But I must have left them behind. Can you see them anywhere?”
Searching for anything out of place, Nick scoured the roomy kitchen. At Jimmy’s end of the counter, a brown box bearing the bakery’s logo stood out like a sore thumb. For the second time in less than sixty minutes, Nick fought down an urge to slap his head. The cardboard contrasted so sharply with the white marble countertop, he should have spotted it the moment he’d stepped through the kitchen’s swinging doors. How had he missed it? No matter. He’d found it. That was the important thing. “They’re here.” He squelched a tiny urge to scold the boy and shouldered the blame. “This is just as much my fault as it is yours. I should have double-checked that you had everything you needed. Want me to run them out to you?” The Halperteens lived a short drive from downtown. If he left right now, he could make it there and back well before the party broke up.
“Would you?” A relief so palpable Nick could almost touch it flooded through his ear piece. “I’d come and get it myself, but I’ve got to cut the cake in a few minutes.”
“Nah, it’s okay, kiddo.” He’d made his own share of mistakes when he’d started out. Back then, his dad had stood by him, backing him up with an unruffled attitude that had helped him stay calm and cool, even when those around him had been in a panic. Determined to do the same for Jimmy, he finished with an effortless, “See you in a few.”
Surveying his workstation, he decided everything could stay right where it was until he got back. Everything except for the frosting. The blend of cream cheese, butter, and powdered sugar tended to separate when warmed. So, despite a thermostat set to a cool seventy-two, the bowl went into the fridge, along with the half-filled decorating bag. Hanging his apron on a nearby hook, Nick grabbed the box of cupcakes and headed for the front of the store.
“Hey, Denise,” he called, passing through the swinging doors into the customer area. “I need to make a quick delivery. You’re okay on your own for a few minutes, aren’t you?” He shot an appraising glance at the young woman who’d been working the lunch shift and the slower afternoons for the last six months.
“Sure thing, Mr. Bell.” Deni
se marked her place with her finger and hastily closed a book.
“Whatcha reading?” Nick gave the tidy counter area a cursory look. A half-dozen cupcakes dotted the shelves in the display case that had overflowed with an assortment of baked goods this morning. At one of the corner tables, a couple of regulars chatted over coffee in the otherwise quiet shop.
The college sophomore pulled a long face. “Economics. I need to get a B in the class to keep my scholarship.”
“Better get back to your studies, then.” Glad he could do his part in helping one of Heart’s Landing’s own get her degree, he nodded. “I won’t be long. I’ll call if I’m delayed for any reason.”
“Yes, sir.”
Intent on making the delivery as quickly as possible so he could finish decorating his cupcakes before it got too late, Nick stepped smartly toward the front door. A passing horse-drawn carriage drowned out the merry jingling of the bell that signaled the arrival and departure of the shop’s customers. Out of the corner of one eye, Nick spotted the slim figure of a woman who’d stopped mid-stride, her lips slightly parted, stars in a pair of dark eyes she’d trained on the carriage that turned the corner at a sedate pace.
Another bride. The town was chock full of them.
He shrugged and hoped she didn’t have her heart set on a wedding cake from his bakery. So many orders already crowded his calendar that, even with Jimmy’s help, he’d have to put in extra hours to fill them all. He checked the woman on the sidewalk again. When she remained rooted to the spot, he picked up his own pace, eager complete his errand and get back on schedule.
Chapter Four
Fifteen minutes after she signed the registry at the Union Street Bed and Breakfast, Jenny parked her rental in a public lot near the center of town. She headed in the direction of I Do Cakes, which, according to the map, was a five-minute walk. The light at the first cross-street turned red just before she reached it. Stepping to the curb, she cocked her head as a peppy rendition of “Ode to Joy” played from speakers mounted on the sign post. She tapped her toes in time to the music while she waited for the Don’t Walk sign to change. When the light blinked at last, the music switched to “The Wedding March.” Chuckling to herself, she hurried across the street.
A white sign with bright pink lettering swung beneath a chocolate-colored awning in the middle of the next block. Closing in on I Do Cakes, she picked up her pace. She was only a few feet from the door when the sound of jangling harnesses and the clop-clop of horses’ hooves filled the air. The sound drew her as effectively as the soft chiming of her cell phone. She spun toward the noise in time to see a high-stepping team turn the corner. She couldn’t help but stop and stare when, light glinting off its shiny metal trim, a spotless carriage followed the horses around the bend. Sitting high on the front seat, the driver wore a morning coat. He doffed his tall top hat to shoppers and pedestrians who stopped in mid-stride to watch. A smattering of applause broke out when the bride, resplendent in white lace, rode past a group of bystanders.
“That,” Jenny whispered, her eyes locked on the carriage. “Yes, that.”
A split-second later, an empty spot opened in the center of her chest. She shook her head and brushed an unexpected dampness from her eyes. Who was she kidding? It didn’t matter that she’d had her heart set on a Heart’s Landing wedding ever since she was a little girl. Or that she’d filled a notebook with samples and drawings of exactly what she wanted on her special day. Her plan to ride in a horse-drawn carriage to wed the man of her dreams might never come true. And even if it did, would it still be in Heart’s Landing, now that her very own cousin had chosen to get married here?
Not that she blamed Kay for stealing her idea. It wasn’t like they routinely compared notes on their ideal weddings over their morning coffee. Kay hadn’t known how much getting married here had meant to her.
But it was one thing for her brain to acknowledge that her dream wedding wasn’t in the cards she’d been dealt. It was quite another for her heart to accept it. A fresh longing for something out of her reach filled her. Unable to take her eyes off the lucky bride, Jenny stared after the carriage until it veered onto Procession Avenue. Only when it had disappeared around the corner did she blink slowly like someone waking after a hundred-year nap. The cheerful jingling of the harnesses faded into the distance.
A gradual awareness of her surroundings sank in. Standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk, she darted a look around. Their heads bent together, their hands entwined, a couple across the street studied posters of honeymoon destinations on display in the window of a travel agency. The sparse traffic in the center of town ebbed and flowed in time to the traffic lights. Elsewhere, people went about their business while she alone stood frozen in place.
What was that all about? She didn’t have time to stand on the sidewalk and gawk. She had work to do. She’d been tasked with making all the arrangements for her cousin’s wedding. With just four weeks to accomplish the monumental task, she needed to get moving. Shaking off the spell she’d been under, she spun. Her head down, she hurried onward.
“Whoa! Watch out!”
Jenny sucked in a breath as a tall figure barreled out of the bakery straight at her. Trying her best to move out of his path, she stumbled to one side. She almost made it past him, probably would have avoided a collision altogether, but her left foot tangled with her right one and both refused to budge. In a blur of motion, the figure in blue plowed into her. Something stiff crumpled at her waist. A cloud of sugary sweetness surrounded her while she flailed her arms, tried to regain her balance, and failed. She had the vaguest impression of muscular arms reaching for her. She slipped out of their grasp just as her legs gave out beneath her.
Down she went.
An instant later, she landed with a soft “Ooof” on the unforgiving sidewalk. As a final insult, something soft plopped into her lap.
“Oh, gosh. Are you hurt?” Deep and masculine, a voice to match the broad shoulders of the man who’d collided with her cut through her confused fog.
“What just happened?” Trying to figure out how she’d ended up sitting on the ground and covered in sticky goo, Jenny whipped her head from side to side. She flexed her arms and legs and felt a wash of relief when nothing sent up a twinge or a sharp, painful protest. The hand she brushed over her jacket left trails of blue and green streaks. With nothing more than a little hurt pride and stains to show for her fall, she followed faded denim upward past a blue shirt to a pair of piercing eyes the color of a stormy afternoon sky.
“You ran into me,” she said, still trying to fit the pieces together. “I was walking into the bakery, and you barged out like you were headed to a fire somewhere. What in heaven’s name was so important?”
“Cupcakes.” A shock of dark hair fell forward on to his forehead as the man leaned down over her.
“Cupcakes,” she echoed. As if that explained anything.
The stranger’s gaze sharpened. “Are you okay? Nothing’s broken? You didn’t bang your head?”
“I didn’t land on my head.” The sharp retort rolled off her tongue before she had a chance to stop it. She clamped a hand over her mouth and immediately regretted it when the sticky goo on her hands stuck to her face. “Don’t mind me. I’m not usually so snippy. It’s just that, well…” She ran out of steam. Figuring the fall must have taken the wind out of her sails, she straightened her shoulders and schooled her attitude. It was about time for her to get up off the ground, wasn’t it? “What is all this?” She held her fingers up while she stared down at a kaleidoscope of color.
“You’re wearing my cupcakes.” The stranger’s lips thinned. “Or what’s left of them.” The gray in his eyes hardened into silver as his gaze shifted to the mess that covered her. A muscle ticked along one side of his jaw.
That explained why she smelled like she’d been drenched in butter and sugar. As though her tongue h
ad a will of its own, she licked her lips. Flavor burst in her mouth, setting her taste buds alight and leaving her hungry for more. She swallowed, and the sweetness spread into her throat. She eyed the man who stared down at her with a mix of concern and irritation. No wonder he seemed upset. The icing was the best she’d ever tasted.
“Here,” he said, reaching down with an outstretched hand. “Let me help you up.”
“What? No, I can—” Her protest faltered in mid-sentence. Before she could point out that she was perfectly capable of getting herself off the sidewalk, strong hands wrapped around her wrists. In one fluid motion, the stranger pulled her to her feet. Refusing to let her go, he hung on a second or two longer than it took her to regain her balance. Heat crawled up her neck when the backs of her hands warmed beneath his touch.
Her focus dropped from the firm grip that held her in place and landed on the icing and bits of cake that dripped from her clothes. A rather large blue dollop chose that particular moment to separate itself from her jacket. It splattered to the sidewalk with a wince-inducing plop. Jenny heaved a heavy sigh at the waste of something so yummy.
“No scrapes, no broken bones, no twisted ankles?”
She looked up in time to see concern replace the silver in the bluish-gray eyes that swept over her. “I’m fine,” she murmured. To prove it, she slid from his grasp. “My clothes are another matter.” Suddenly aware of how closely she resembled an artist’s palette, she darted a glance over his shoulder at the bakery. “I don’t suppose there’d be any place inside where I could clean up?”
“The ladies’ room,” he suggested. At her curt nod, he held the door for her. “In the back, on the left. I’ll see if I can’t scour up something else for you to put on.”
