“You want to talk about boys?” Lacey swiveled round on her stool and fixed him with an incredulous glare.
“More about men than boys,” he conceded, enjoying her surprise. “Bachelors to be specific.”
Pushing her stool back Lacey jumped to her feet. “I need chocolate,” she said. “Possibly strong coffee.”
“You said it yourself, Lacey. You want the house, the dog, the kids. Now it’s the twenty-first century, you’re a hardworking talented woman, I’m sure you’re more than capable of providing that home for yourself but if you were thinking of the more traditional family route you missed out one essential ingredient. A husband or life partner.”
“I am not having this conversation with you.”
“I’m just being honest like a good friend should. Now I am about to meet seven of Marietta’s most eligible men. Why don’t I find out if any of them seem a good match for you? I could put in a good word.”
“I do not need fixing up!”
“It’s Friday night and here you are. At home. Even the cat’s gone out.”
“Because I have a busy day tomorrow.”
“And last Friday night? The one before?”
Lacey pursed her lips. “I don’t see that that’s any of your business.”
“We’re friends aren’t we?” Zac said silkily. “That makes it my business. Look, I’ll do a deal with you. We never did decide what the penalty would be if I win the mini bake-off. You win and I do a day of small-town activities of your choice: milkshakes, sleigh rides, skating—bring it all on. But if I win I get to set you up on a date.”
“Why?” Lacey threw her hands up in frustration. “Why would you want to do that? What does it matter to you?”
“I’m a nomad, Lacey, and that’s the way I like it. But there was a moment down by that lake when I wished I wasn’t. Just a moment when I wanted to be the kind of man it would be safe for you to kiss. The kind of man who would be worthy of that kiss. I’m not but I’d like to know that he was out there somewhere. The guy who will make you happy. The guy who can take you skating.”
Lacey didn’t answer for a long moment, her lashes veiling her eyes. Her cheeks flushed as she stood in the middle of the room, hands twisted together. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Her capitulation wasn’t quite as sweet as it should have been because somewhere deep and primal Zac wasn’t at all keen on the idea of Lacey dating anyone at all. He squashed his inner caveman down and smiled. “Trust me, I’ll pick the perfect guy.”
“If you win.”
“I have spreadsheets,” he reminded her. “I don’t think my win is in any doubt at all.”
Chapter Eight
Lacey hoisted the small video camera onto her shoulder and threaded her way through the crowd. The hall at Marietta High School was heaving as people lined up for tea, coffee and other refreshments or shopped at the stalls set up along one wall, all selling a variety of enticing goods.
Jillian Parker’s jewelry store seemed to be particularly popular with couples, Lacey noted. Of course Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. Her parents always sent her a card, her aunts made little heart-shaped cakes, and there was usually a gift from Patchwork but that was it. No mystery admirers, not bouquets, no silver hearts with a message inscribed. Still, it wasn’t all bad; at least Patchwork had good taste. Last year the cat had bought some of Lacey’s favorite praline chocolate from Sage’s shop.
As she wandered through the crowd various people gave her a smile and a wave and Lacey acknowledged them back. She stopped to quickly chat with a slender blonde in a colorful shirt. She’d interviewed Noelle Olsen recently about her new dance studio and had promised to try out an adult ballet class. Somehow she’d never had time. She should make time.
“Hey, Lacey, loved this morning’s webcast.” Jane wove her way through the crowd to greet her. How the slim brunette had the energy to coordinate a project like this and raise her gorgeous toddler twins Lacey had no idea, but the woman seemed to have endless energy and enthusiasm. Like Lacey she was a newcomer to Marietta. More so, she didn’t have family here going back generations like Lacey did, and yet somehow she’d found a place right in the heart of the town. Jane had heaps of good friends and was now happily married to her rancher husband, Sam. He used to be a loner, Lacey remembered, watching him smile at his wife across the room, a twin’s hand held firmly in each of his. Look at him now. People did change…
She dragged her mind back to the matter at hand. “Thanks, Jane. I could have done without dropping the flour and forgetting to put the oven on. I don’t know where my head was.”
“Somewhere on the other side of the kitchen with that glorious bachelor of yours?” Jane suggested with a grin. “I am more than satisfied with my gorgeous husband but Zac has cheekbones that could cut butter. No wonder your mind kept drifting. We could have done with the webcam drifting a little bit more too—tip for next week. Think about the ratings, Lacey!”
“It’s not like that.” Lacey’s cheeks heated up at the knowing smile on the other woman’s face. “We’re just friends, that’s all. Besides, he’s just passing through.”
“That’s a shame; he’s obviously a good person as well as easy on the eye. After all, he doesn’t have to be here baking away on his weekend.”
“No, I’m very grateful to him. I’d better get over to the kitchen, Jane. I promised to film the baking and judging and do a follow-up webcast tomorrow. I want to get some interviews in with the other contestants too while they bake. I’ll get them all to do vox pops when they come in for their radio interviews but the more personal I can make the footage the more hits we get and hopefully that will mean more donations.”
“A combination of baking disasters and gorgeous single men sounds like a winning formula to me. It will really put this fundraiser on the map. Thanks, Lacey.”
As Lacey made her way into the school cafeteria she saw the judges already chatting and made a mental note to interview them all later. They were a formidable quartet: Sage Carrigan’s chocolates were famous statewide and no tourist left Marietta unconverted to her creamy smooth chocolate and inventive palate. Meanwhile Rachel Vaughn owned and ran the Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Company. Not even the birth of her daughter a year ago had slowed her down.
There was a friendly rivalry between the Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Company and Crooked Corner Cakes but as the aunts neither wanted to nor had the facilities to expand beyond the specialty cakes and ranch batch baking they currently offered, it was more good-natured teasing—and a sharing of recipes and skills—than anything more serious. In fact several of the apprentices they trained from time to time had gone on to work for Rachel, but Lacey knew her great-aunts were still keen that Zac do them justice as Rachel would be judging their entrant.
Ryan Henderson was hardly less intimidating. He had trained in Paris as a pastry chef. Lacey spared a moment to pity the poor bachelors faced with such experienced and demanding judges. Hopefully Langdon Hale, the new Fire Chief, would be easier to please!
The competition had already formally started and the eight apron-clad men were at their stations mixing, melting, grating, and stirring. The smells were incredible: hot butter, melting chocolate, vanilla, orange, candied nuts all melding together in a mouthwatering combination—although Lacey knew all too well how quickly the aromatic smell could turn acrid. How she’d managed to burn her cookies after forgetting to turn her oven on she had no idea. One nil to Zac in the mini bake-off stakes. Which meant she had just two weeks to get out of this ridiculous date…
She panned the camera around the cafeteria as the reality of last night’s agreement hit her. Was Zac serious? Did he really want to set her up on a date out of what, some kind of altruistic friend thing? Or to make up for walking into her life, turning it upside down whilst knowing he was just going to waltz right on out again? Okay, he was right when he pointed out she wasn’t having much success setting herself up but did she really trus
t him to find her someone compatible? And did she really want to date a man who wasn’t Zac?
No. She wasn’t going to think about this right now. She had work to do. Lacey walked over to the first workstation where Tyler Carter was gritting his teeth as he mixed his dough, looking like he’d much prefer to be at the gym he owned—or in fact anywhere but in this room. Ingredients were scattered and spilled all around and Lacey had a pang of empathy. She might be no gym goer but it rather looked that where baking was concerned they were right bang on the same page. “Hey, Tyler,” she said cheerily. “What are you making?”
He looked up, swiping an arm across his forehead as he did so, leaving flour in his hair. “Chocolate chip cookies—at least that’s the idea.”
“My favorite.”
“I doubt these will be,” he almost growled. “I haven’t been able to get them right in a single practice session yet.”
“I know how that feels. Good luck anyway.”
Tyler grunted in acknowledgement as Lacey snagged a chocolate chip from his table and moved on to the next bachelor, Matthew West the town vet. He treated Patchwork so Lacey was already on good terms with him and spent a couple of minutes filming him as he competently mixed up his chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Lacey had heard that he’d been spending some time with Carolyn Hanson who had recently returned to Marietta after working as a chef in New York. It looked like it was time well spent. Matthew seemed calm and unhurried as he melted the chocolate, his neat workstation a stark contrast to many around him.
It was fun moving from bake to bake, chatting with the stressed-looking men, sneaking samples where she could, getting loads of great footage she could use for all kinds of promotional material. It was particularly lovely to see Harry’s family, hovering around Avery Wainwright’s table. The popular family had elected to sponsor the bachelor through their grocery store and were here to support him. Avery’s family were good friends with the Monroes and it was touching that the injured rodeo rider had agreed to use his unexpected downtime to represent them.
Lacey swallowed a lump as she watched Mrs. Monroe, sadness never too far behind her smile. The tragedy was still so raw for her and yet the Monroes pulled together as a family, working their way past the tragedy as a team. It was an all too real reminder why Harry’s House was so important, a way of healing wounds as well as providing for the future. Lacey made a mental note to see if she could get Harry’s mom and siblings to talk to her for a future webcast, maybe up at the house. It could make some powerful footage.
She’d been to every table bar one. It wasn’t that she had deliberately kept Zac till last, or that she was ignoring him, but she had already got lots of footage of him practicing. It was undeniable that her heart began to beat a little more rapidly as she neared him, her hands slippery on the camera. He was frowning at his dough, the dark eyes narrowed, tense lines around his mouth.
“Hey.”
He didn’t look up. “I don’t understand it. My dough was perfect this morning. Look at this!” He pushed the gloopy mixture with a spoon.
“Add more flour?” Lacey suggested. “Or some milk?”
“You do know they do different things?” The smile that accompanied his words speeded her heartbeat up even more.
“Do they?”
“How’s the interviewing going?” Zac lowered his voice. “Any bachelors catching your eye?”
Lacey hastily switched the record function off her camera. “I don’t know! I was working, remember?” How could he sound so calm and interested? Last night he’d looked at her mouth as if it was the most delicious thing he’d ever seen and now he was calmly asking if she wanted to date any one of a number of other men. Had she imagined it, the way he’d looked at her? Was it her own attraction to him making her attribute feelings to him he simply didn’t have?
“I haven’t had a chance to really chat to any of them yet,” Zac continued. “But that Jake guy seems nice. Public defender so he has a good job. Not that money’s everything but it can make things easier. Raising kids is expensive you know.”
“Shush.” Lacey knew her cheeks were bright red; they felt on fire. She looked around, thankful nobody was near enough to hear him, and then glared at him. Zac grinned unrepentantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Concentrate on your cookies, Malone. It looks to me like they need all the help you can give them.”
“What do you think my chances are?” he asked as he attempted to roll out the sticky mess. Despite the unappetizing look of his cookie mixture plenty of people were passing by his table and noting down his number for the auction. Plenty of women, Lacey noticed. It must be the baker and not the goods attracting their attention.
“Of winning? I don’t know, Matthew West looks pretty professional over there.” Lacey watched Zac attempt to cut out the first twelve cookies, squinting as he placed them on the first baking sheet. If she looked sideways she could kind of see that they were meant to be stars. “And that guy over there, Wes St. Claire? They are pretty tasty-looking snickerdoodles he’s got going on there. How well do you take losing?”
“You’re suggesting I may not win?”
“I am preparing you for the possibility…”
Zac looked down at the sheet of unbaked cookies as the mixture spread out, losing the carefully cut out shape they were supposed to be holding. “Fair enough. I won this morning; that will do me for now.”
“Zac?” Aunt Priscilla bustled up to the counter, her bright hair falling out of its bun, her lipstick extra bright. Her pink sweatshirt was emblazoned with Sugar, spice, and all things nice picked out in rhinestones. It had been Lacey’s Christmas present to her. “How is it… Oh.” She stared at the gloopy mess, dismay clear on her face. “Why don’t you…”
“No coaching, Aunt P,” Lacey admonished her. “You don’t want him disqualified for cheating.”
“No, of course not.” Her aunt’s innocent look did not fool Lacey for one moment; she knew her all too well. “I would never think of suggesting to Zac that he adds flour before he rolls out the next batch and cuts them, nor that if he sprinkles that sheet of disintegrating stars with a dusting of flour and reshapes them with a blunt knife they may well hold their shape. Not at all.”
“Aunt Priscilla! I am going to take you to the refreshment stall and buy you a coffee before you get Zac into serious trouble. We’ll see you later, Zac. Good luck—I think you need it!”
*
“At least you didn’t come last.” Aunt Patty set a coffee in front of Zac and pulled out a chair for herself. “Where did you come exactly?”
“Second to last,” Lacey piped up cheerfully from the counter where she sat, swinging her long legs like an overgrown schoolgirl. She waved the snickerdoodle she had bought in the auction at him. “These are delicious. Wes definitely deserved to come second. But, get this, Aunt Patty, Zac’s cookies bought in the most at auction. Those girls from Town Hall sure like to keep on the right side of their accountant.” The smile she flashed him was only a little mocking.
“I’m sure they tasted better than they looked,” Aunt Priscilla said loyally and Zac buried his face in his hands dramatically.
“I let you both down. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.” That wasn’t exactly true. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly why the cookies—which had worked perfectly well this morning—had gone so disastrously wrong in the afternoon.
The other bachelors.
Zac had gone to Marietta High filled with determination to do the right thing and find Lacey a decent date. And any of the other bachelors would fit that bill. They were obviously good guys—look at the effort they were putting on for charity. That was a good sign. All around the right age, had their own teeth and hair as far as he could tell; not one of them seemed like a bum. He could probably pick any name out of a hat and stand back and watch Lacey fall in love.
Trouble was he didn’t want Lacey to fall in love. Not with another guy.
But she couldn’t, shoul
dn’t fall in love with him. Which made him feel like the worst kind of heel. He’d watched her making her way around the kitchen, stopping, smiling, chatting, sneaking bits of cookie dough, making the other bachelors laugh. And he’d been seized with some kind of primal possessiveness he didn’t even know he owned. He’d wanted to march over and stand there glowering until every other man in the room backed away, until they were a respectful distance away. Until he claimed her as his.
Which was ridiculous. He might be out of practice at this friendship lark but he was pretty sure territorial prowling wasn’t how it worked.
No wonder his mind hadn’t been on the cookies.
“Don’t look so annoyed, Zac; you’ll do better next time.” Aunt Patty gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “One bad bake does not make a bad baker. I’m sure we can teach you to make a most credible pie.”
He looked up at the elegant older woman. “Next time?” He’d been so focused on those damn cookies he’d forgotten there would be a next time. This Bake-Off experience wasn’t over, not nearly over.
And if he had trouble with cookies how on earth was he going to manage a whole pie?
“Pie week.” Lacey had a dreamy expression on her face. “I do love pie.”
“Good thing as you’ll be making it right along with me,” Zac said grinning as the dreamy expression was wiped away as if it had never been, replaced with the same horror of dawning realization he’d felt just a few moments before.
“But pie is hard! Unless, oh! We could always use one of those precooked pie crusts and just fill it…”
“Lacey Anne Hathaway! There’ll be no talk of precooked pie crusts in this house. What would your great-grandmother say?” Aunt Patty glared across at her unrepentant niece.
“The real question…” Aunt Priscilla said, reaching over to snag a snickerdoodle from the bag Lacey had brought home. She sniffed it and broke off a piece to sample. “Mmm, these aren’t bad.”
Baking for Keeps Page 8
