A Slice of Summer

by Melissa McClone

  It was Taryn’s turn to blush.

  Brecken snickered.

  Keaton grinned. “Carry on, friends.”

  Seriously? Garrett shook his head.

  They walked out, and the door closed behind them. The ding rang again.

  “I’m sorry for Keaton and Flynn.”

  Taryn typed on her phone. “You don’t have to apologize. I’ll send them a box of desserts tomorrow for what they did. I need to tell the others Brecken is safe.”

  “You were right about the kid.”

  Her grin, complete with dimples, lit up her beautiful face. “Told you so.”

  “You did. And to make up for it, dinner is on me.”

  “Sounds good.” She tucked away her phone, added the cash to a drawer beneath the counter, and locked it. “I want to go home, though. How does Chinese takeout sound?”

  He was happy to do whatever she wanted. “Perfect.”

  And it was. Tonight hadn’t turned out like any of them had planned, but it would end well.

  *

  On Monday, Taryn arrived at the bakery while the sky was still dark and the sun fast asleep. She’d taken Jayden’s shift so he could spend the day with his wife, who was off. Taryn yawned, even after sleeping several hours. She’d fallen asleep on Garrett’s shoulder after they ate last night, so he’d woken her, told her to go to bed, and kissed her forehead. And she had.

  She pulled the tray of muffins out of the oven and slid in another.

  The only problem?

  Well, two problems.

  He’d mentioned this week would be busy, and his free time would be scarce.

  Translation number one: I probably won’t see you until the wedding.

  And second, he would leave a week from today.

  Translation number two: the fact she considered this a problem should concern her.

  We’re friends hanging out, sharing hot kisses.

  And if her heart bumped when she saw him or thought of him, that was because of the newness of everything. It meant nothing.

  They would have to make the most of whatever time they had together before they said goodbye.

  No big deal.

  Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she would believe it.

  She grabbed a cranberry scone off the cooling rack and bit into it.

  Though probably not.

  The bakery’s landline rang.

  Strange. The sun wasn’t up. Who would call this early?

  It might be Carl, Finley, or Brecken, so she’d better answer. “Lawson’s Bakery. This is Taryn. How can I help you?”

  “Good morning, Taryn.”

  She clutched the phone. “Dad? Is everything okay?”

  “I should ask you that. I saw Brecken’s videos and posts. Is it true?”

  “Yes.” She pressed her lips together to keep from saying I told you so.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Taryn had to say it. “You might reconsider your meeting with them.”

  Silence filled the line.

  “You know about that?”

  His tone didn’t tell her much, but his words were slower. “Nick Baxter mentioned it yesterday.”

  “He’s no longer associated with the Summit Ridge Bakery.”

  “I hadn’t heard that.” Of course not. It was four thirty in the morning. “How do you know that?”

  “The owners emailed me last night.”

  O-kay. “Does that mean you’re still meeting with them?”

  “Your mother and I want you to have a life.”

  “I have a life. One I enjoy very much.”

  “All you do is work at the bakery.”

  “I love baking.”

  “It’s too much for you. You should date more so you can fall in love, get married, and have children.”

  Huh? He made no sense. “I’m doing what you did.”

  “That was different.”

  Taryn had a feeling as to the reason, but she needed him to say. “How?”

  He said nothing.

  “Dad, what’s different?”

  “I had your mother to raise you and take care of the house and all the other stuff that goes along with having a child. No man wants his wife working the hours you do. You’ve done a good job with the bakery, but your mother and I discussed this, and we’re selling it. If you want to keep working there, you can until—”

  “Until I meet a man.” The words tasted like a burnt cookie.

  “Yes. It’s the best thing for you.”

  As if she were a child and not a thirty-two-year-old woman. And it wasn’t as if her parents were that old. Her mother might not have had a career outside of the house, but many others did. “It’s not. I can do both.”

  “That’s what people say, but it’s not true. If you’d married before I retired, this would have been much easier for you to understand.”

  The truth smacked Taryn in the head like a loaf of bread that had been underproofed or over-kneaded. Her father’s criticisms over her wanting to update the menu and remodel made sense now. He hadn’t wanted her to make any changes because Lawson’s Bakery wouldn’t be hers.

  “You never planned to turn the bakery over to me.” The words came out calmer than she expected.

  “No, we didn’t.”

  Her breath hitched. “Did Grandpa know?”

  “Yes, and he and your grandmother disagreed with us. But my mother always considered herself progressive and a feminist. That’s why they paid for you to go to the culinary academy.”

  “So I’d have a backup.” Taryn startled, realizing she’d said the words aloud. Tears stung her eyes. “When were you going to tell me?”

  More silence.

  “I’ve poured myself into the bakery. I deserve an answer,” she pressed.

  “After I signed the contract.”

  When there was nothing she could do. Not that she could do anything now that she knew the information.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “It’s a done deal?”

  “Not quite.”

  But almost was implied.

  Her heart sank like a cake does when someone opened the oven door too often. She had to say something before he destroyed her grandparents’ legacy. “You might want to reconsider selling to the owners of Summit Ridge, given their sketchy behavior.”

  “Your mother and I will discuss it when I return. There’s no rush.”

  Not for them.

  What about her?

  Taryn glanced around the bakery. This place was where she’d grown up. It was supposed to be her future. She still wanted it to be. That gave her an idea.

  She took a breath. “Forget about the Summit Ridge folks. Sell Lawson’s to me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The week passed by in a blur for Taryn. Summit Ridge Bakery had issued a public apology. They’d mentioned cutting ties with their consultant, Nick Baxter. Lawson’s business was up to holiday levels thanks to the coupons and people wanting to support them after hearing what had happened. With the increased traffic, she’d hired Brecken’s oldest sister, Mandy, who was sixteen and wanting a part-time job to save money for college.

  Taryn’s parents hadn’t called, but that didn’t stop her from applying for a small business loan. She wanted to buy Lawson’s. If they decided not to sell it to her, she would open a place of her own. The decision wasn’t out of spite or for revenge. Taryn was a baker and owning a bakery was her dream. She would make it happen. Somehow.

  It was as simple as that.

  How complicated things became remained to be seen.

  Not that she’d told anyone, including her employees.

  Anything she said would be premature. The sale to the Summit Ridge Bakery owners might not happen. However, she’d been tempted to tell Garrett. Except that wasn’t something you said to a friend who was leaving on Sunday. So, she’d kept quiet.

  Despite helping Callie with wedding stuff, he’d had coffee with her on Monday and Wednesd
ay. They’d also eaten lunch at the Falls Café on Tuesday. She’d missed seeing him yesterday, but there’d been a play-golf-pseudo-bachelor-party for the guys. Taryn, however, would see him at the rehearsal dinner, if only for a few minutes, but she’d take it. She parked behind a car in Margot’s driveway. She unloaded the first box of desserts from the trunk, carried them to the front of the house, and rang the bell.

  Margot opened the door. “Come in out of that heat.”

  “Thanks.” Taryn stepped inside. “At least it’s only in the eighties.”

  “Very true. I had a special tent set up for the dessert bar.”

  “I can’t wait to see it, but I have more I need to get. The other desserts are in coolers, so they don’t melt.”

  “Pippa is still decorating and hanging fairy lights and tulle. She shouldn’t be much longer.” Margot glanced at the clock as if to confirm her plans. “Let’s put these in the fridge while you bring in the others.”

  It took Taryn three more trips. “This is the last one.”

  “Pippa’s gone, and the caterers are setting up.”

  Taryn climbed the short staircase to the backyard that Pippa transformed into a romantic hideaway with white tulle and fairy lights. Globe bulbs hung along the edge of the cover and crisscrossed the width. With the large tent and two smaller ones—for the bar and dessert buffet—blocking the direct sunlight, the temperature was cooler. She noticed an outdoor air conditioner. Margot had gone all out for her nephew.

  “This is lovely.” A wooden table with serving stands of various heights. “Has Callie seen this yet?”

  “No, and neither has Brandt.”

  “They’ll love it.” The decked-out backyard was as elegant as any wedding venue. “I’ll get set up.”

  With gloves on, Taryn arranged each of the desserts. She’d known Margot wanted a cake even though the bride and groom hadn’t, so she’d made a strawberry shortcake as a surprise for the quilt shop owner. And the angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream was the perfect centerpiece for the buffet. As she stored the cooler, the scent of the delicious dinner tickled her nose.

  She removed her gloves and looked around. Beautiful. And not only the desserts.

  Taryn headed into the house where Margot was feeding her two dogs. “Everything’s ready. If you run low on anything, there are extras in the coolers beneath the dinner buffet.”

  “Perfect.”

  The doorbell rang, and people quickly spilled into the backyard. Within minutes, music played, and the bartender poured drinks.

  That was Taryn’s cue to leave. “I’ll pick up my things when it’s convenient for you.”

  “Stay and eat before you leave.”

  Taryn hesitated. “I need to frost the wedding cakes.”

  Margot waved her off. “Fifteen minutes is nothing. Besides, it’s dinnertime. You must be hungry.”

  When she put it that way… “Okay, but I can’t stay long.”

  Taryn followed Margot outside, where people were eating dinner. That was quick. There had to be at least thirty guests. She knew some, like Anna and Raine, but not the others.

  “Get a plate and make yourself at home.” With that, Margot headed toward Brandt’s mother.

  As Taryn stood in the buffet line, she glimpsed Garrett talking to someone she didn’t recognize.

  A few minutes later, she sat at one of the round tables, listening to Margot tell the story of when Callie came over to make Christmas cookies. “I knew she belonged with Brandt, which proves once again that my matchmaking skills are second to none.”

  People laughed.

  Funnily enough, or maybe not, neither Callie nor Brant denied it.

  As the dinner progressed, Taryn felt like an interloper. She stayed off to the side, as far away from the center as she could. She noticed how Garrett and his brothers knew how to entertain a crowd. Then again, all three lived in Los Angeles. They must be used to parties and entertaining, given their professions.

  After eating, she replenished the dessert bar before saying her goodbyes to Margot, Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, Brandt, and Callie.

  As Taryn headed to the door, Garrett jogged up to her. “Where are you going?”

  “To the bakery.” She had brought only her keys, cell, and the desserts, so she could make a quick exit. “Your sister’s wedding cakes won’t frost themselves.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said, as if he were discussing whether or not to press the crosswalk button.

  “That’s unnecessary. I drove.”

  “It’s getting late.”

  “Nothing bad happens in Silver Falls. And the bakery is still open.”

  “Let’s just say my escorting you there is insurance against anything happening to you before my little sister’s big day.”

  “Fine,” Taryn relented because she needed to get going. “But you’re wasting precious time you could spend partying.”

  “There will be plenty of that tomorrow.”

  “Don’t rush back,” Margot called as if she’d been eavesdropping. “And thank you for the divine strawberry shortcake surprise.”

  Where had she come from? Taryn leaned closer to him and whispered, “She’s not playing matchmaker, is she?”

  “I told her not to.”

  “That’s never stopped her in the past.”

  A thoughtful expression formed on his face. “This time, I believe her.”

  Taryn hoped he was right, or Margot would be disappointed.

  Three nights from now, Garrett would be in California, which seemed as far away as Mars at the moment.

  As they walked through Margot’s house, he laced his fingers with hers. “The dessert buffet was the highlight.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think you can single anything out. From the decorations to the food, it was the nicest rehearsal dinner I’ve seen.”

  “The desserts were my favorite.”

  His compliment filled her with warmth. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “Not much the bride’s brother needs to do other than drink at the reception and make a funny speech if asked. I’ve got both covered.”

  “Good, because Callie looks ready to burst with excitement.” Taryn unlocked her car. “I think she’d get married tonight if it were possible.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

  She slid behind the steering wheel. “They had everything they needed.”

  Garrett sat in the passenger seat. “Not the wedding cake and three groom’s cakes.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think about those.” Which surprised Taryn because Callie was in love with the various cakes.

  He patted his stomach. “I plan to have a slice of each.”

  “Maybe our groom’s cakes will become sought after because of this wedding.” That would be good for business. She drove to the bakery and parked in her spot in the alley. “Though most people will only have one.”

  “Callie isn’t ‘most people.’”

  “No, she’s not.”

  They exited the car.

  The patio wasn’t that crowded for a Friday night, but since the summer fair had been last weekend, that didn’t surprise her. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

  “I’ll see you inside.”

  “I’m not alone here.”

  “Humor me.”

  She could do that. They headed into the kitchen.

  No one was there. Taryn preferred decorating cakes when no one was around. She’d planned to be gone only a few minutes, not have dinner. But she’d put away anything needing refrigeration.

  Garrett tilted his head. “This isn’t the music you usually play.”

  A romantic ballad played.

  Taryn had left that running while she was gone. She washed her hands. “It isn’t.”

  “Do you always listen to music while you work?” he asked.

  “Yes.” However, this special music was a part of her process. “Bu
t this is a playlist we use for weddings.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “All the love songs and ballads set the tone and puts me in a wedding mode.”

  “I didn’t know so much was involved.”

  “It might be me, but my grandpa did something similar when he decorated his cakes.”

  “A tradition passed down to you.” Garrett leaned against the doorway. “Show me what you do next.”

  “This isn’t entertainment.”

  “I find you entertaining.”

  She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Your family is waiting for you.”

  “Except for Margot, they don’t know I left,” he countered. “Nervous?”

  Taryn shrugged. “I’m not used to frosting on demand.”

  Wicked laughter lit his eyes. “Why Miss Lawson, that almost sounds dirty.”

  She held up a pastry bag. “Watch it, or you won’t know what hit you. And it will be dirty. I mean messy.”

  “Go for it.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She spun the cake to see where she’d left off. “Now, let me focus, or your sister will be disappointed.”

  *

  Watching Taryn decorate mesmerized Garrett. He should have left when the bakery closed, but he had remained frozen as if his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  Her pinpoint-precision focus impressed him. As she piped a line of icing along the edge, her tongue stuck out of her mouth. She wasn’t a pastry chef but an artist doing a live performance. Her medium was frosting, not paint. Instead of brushes, she used a spatula and bags with different-sized nozzles to create her magic.

  A text notification sounded.

  Garrett checked his phone. It was a text from a partner at his firm.

  JennJD: You’re making rain again.

  Garrett: New client?

  JennJD: Yes! Can you talk right now?

  Garrett: Give me a minute. I’ll call you.

  He put away his phone. Taryn was still hard at work.

  “Is there a place I can make a call?” he asked. “It’s for work.”

  “Sure.” She motioned to a doorway. “Use my office. You can close the door.”

  “I don’t need privacy.”

  She grinned. “I meant, so the music doesn’t bother you.”