I cleared my throat. “I heard something about a tree lighting ceremony. It sounds like a pretty big event around here.”
Her eyes immediately sought the flyers lining her windows. Shaking her head, she laughed. “Holly Springs is fiercely loyal to tradition. It’s a pretty basic event. There’s a parade and a big tree covered in lights. And you can usually find a cup of hot chocolate somewhere.”
“Sounds like a party,” I said.
“Maybe not to someone like you. But the people here live for these events. It’s different in a small town than it is in the city.”
I didn’t mean to offend her. She was right, though. It didn’t sound like any party I’d been to. Most of the events I attended in LA were black tie. I was really making a muck of things with Madison, and if I didn’t want to create a full-scale enemy out of her, then I needed to redirect our friendship. I couldn’t help her save her diner if she didn’t treat me like a friend, at least.
I pulled up short. When had I decided to help her save the diner?
Oh, who was I kidding? It had only taken one fiery hot sauce incident for me to make that decision.
“Will you be there?” I asked, smiling down at her dark hair. Her lashes fanned over her cheeks as she focused on my knee and the feel of her fingers gently cleaning my gash trailed goosebumps up my leg.
“Yes. If I can get these cake pops finished in time.”
I nodded. Now I remembered. Her marketing plan was cake pops. No wonder the diner was failing. “Can I help?”
She laughed. “Do you have any experience in the kitchen?”
“Some.” I wasn’t being completely untruthful. I had helped quite a few restaurants figure out what wasn’t working for them and had redirected them toward success. My hands never got any flour on them, but I’d still worked in many kitchens.
She leaned back, watching me through narrowed eyes. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even know you.”
I flashed her a smile. “What do you want to know? My favorite ice cream is rocky road and I spend my free time watching Dodger’s reruns. Especially when they beat the Giants.”
Her skepticism wasn’t reassuring. And I had no idea why she wasn’t willing to take my help. I mean, most women jumped at the chance for some quality time with me. But Madison clearly wasn’t most women.
She was focusing on my knee, her nose scrunching like she smelled something distasteful. Maybe she had an aversion to antiseptic…or maybe she had an aversion to me.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, sure then. You can help.”
I grinned. This kind of exposure was more than I could have hoped for. Maybe I could even get Madison to give me more information about the diner. I had a feeling she wouldn’t offer it willingly, but if she just thought she was chatting with a visitor and not a professional business analytic then maybe…
Shoving down my unease, I watched her bandage my knee. Once the blood was cleared away, the cut wasn’t really so bad. But I could tell my knee would be sore for a few days.
Would it be crazy to admit that it was kind of worth it for this dark-haired beauty’s nursing? She had a gentle way with her hands that was comforting. It was clear she worked with them a lot.
I sucked in a breath, watching her. I wasn’t being dishonest, exactly. I was only avoiding the whole truth. If I could find a way to help her turn around her business then I could probably convince Mark to let her keep it going.
Probably.
Madison stood and gathered her first aid supplies. She shot me a curious glance before leaving to put away the box. I was determined. I would find a way to help this woman, whether she wanted me to or not.
6
Madison
After cleaning up the discarded Band-Aid wrappers and cleansing wipes, I washed up and began preparations for the famous bell-shaped cake pops.
They’d begun as a campaign promotion when I ran for senior class president in high school, and they were such a hit that Dad had had me make them for the Christmas parade later that year. The bells were a reminder of our name, and the diner’s, but the sugar was how we won people over.
At least, that’s what Dad had always said.
I’d made the cake already so the assembly was all I had left for today. The time consuming, sweat inducing, intricate assembly.
Why did I do this to myself year after year?
Jake went up to take a shower—after I had him grab the TV from the back of the truck and take it upstairs with him. I had to stop myself from asking if he had enough shampoo when he told me he was going to clean up before helping me. I was not a hotel manager; I was a landlord. It was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Joey arrived twenty minutes late and I gave him a false glare as he let himself into the kitchen and threw an apron over his t-shirt and jeans.
“These mornings never get easier,” he said through a yawn. His black curly hair was a little long on top and his brown eyes looked half asleep. He stretched his arms up high and I winced, hearing a pop in his shoulders.
“Do you have to do that every single day?” I asked, gathering up the supplies I needed and prepping them on the stainless-steel kitchen counter.
“Yep. I was up late fixing my sister’s van.” He began taking chairs off tables and setting up the dining room for our breakfasters. He had a talent for working with cars and I had a feeling he would have been a mechanic in another life. In this one, he flipped burgers. “You making good progress on your cake pops?”
“I’m on schedule.” I turned to search a high cabinet for the piping bags. “I don’t know how I’ll get them all done today. But I seem to say that every year and somehow it still happens.”
Joey laughed. “You’ve got this.”
“I agree,” Jake said from behind me. “We’ve got this.”
I turned around and tried to maintain an air of indifference, but he looked good. He leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, his damp hair pushed to the side in a perfectly messy way. He’d thrown on a dark blue t-shirt and jeans and looked ready to model in a breezy orange juice commercial.
I chose a periwinkle apron from the rack and tossed it to him. “Suit up.”
He caught it easily and put it on, smiling at me while he tied it around his waist. I had to admit, I was surprised. I was sure he would hang it back up and choose one of the plain black aprons instead.
“Where to, boss?”
I motioned to where the cake and frosting mixture was sitting in a large bowl. Picking up a lollipop stick, I held it in the air like a wand. “You’ve got five pops to prove yourself. If you can’t get the bell shape right by the fifth, then you’re out.” I drew the stick across my neck like I was beheading myself. “I don’t have time to reshape the bells all day.”
“Easy.”
Raising one eyebrow, I tossed him a stick across the countertop. “I guess we’ll see.”
Picking up a metal measuring cup, I scooped cake mixture from the bowl and into my hands. Explaining the process as I went, I showed him how to shape the cake into a semblance of a bell. Leaning forward on the counter, I watched Jake’s large hands form the cake into anything but a bell. His first attempt resembled a dog snout and his second one looked like a floppy, wide-brimmed hat.
He screwed up his face into a self-deprecating smile. “Okay, so maybe easy was a bit of an overstatement.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his floppy hat sitting next to my perfect bell.
He chuckled. “Help me?”
Stepping around the counter to stand beside him, I got a whiff of a strong, masculine scent that clearly cost more than the five-dollar drug store variety.
“Roll the cake in your hands like this, first,” I said, showing him how I created the round of the bell. I tried not to breathe too deeply—his scent was becoming distracting. How much did he spend per bottle? Probably an exorbitant amount. What was the point in spending so much money on a smell, anyway? I never saw t
he wisdom in dropping loads of cash on a smell. Not when a five-dollar drug store smell was sufficient.
Not that it really mattered for me. I always smelled like diner food.
“Madison?”
“Hmm?” I registered amusement on his face and straightened my posture at once. Had I been standing this close to him a moment ago? I felt really close to him now.
“You were showing me how to shape these.” He lifted a blob of cake.
“Right. So then flatten the bottom on the table here and press down to create the base.”
“Like this?” He flattened the bottom of his bell.
“No, you’re going to get another hat if you keep squishing it. Just press lightly, like this.” I reached over and fixed his bell, my arm resting on his. I glanced up and caught his gaze and my stomach did a somersault.
“You are quite the bell-shaper,” he said, a playful half-smile on his mouth.
I jumped back, returning to my own station. “I’ve had years of practice.” The man-smell was not so strong on this side of the table and the space between us was good, allowing my foggy head to clear. I took a deep breath and focused on shaping another bell before shoving the stick into it and popping it onto the specialized tray.
The morning passed in a blur of shaping cake on sticks and rotating them on pans through the freezer before dipping them in white chocolate. Jake moved onto dipping the chocolate once a tray came out of the freezer and we found a steady rhythm.
Joey held his own waiting tables and cooking breakfast food, but the sweat on his round face was dripping by lunchtime. Normally he would have been fine handling the diner on his own, but people had been slowly accumulating for the last hour, craning their necks to see into the back kitchen. Rolling my shoulders, I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent Tessa a text. We needed some backup.
“What’s going on here?” Joey asked, leaning in the doorway. “It’s never this busy.”
Avoiding Jake’s gaze, I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.” My phone buzzed and I scanned the message Tessa sent back.
Is the hot guy still there? Give me five minutes. I’ll be right over.
I rolled my eyes and slid my phone back into my pocket.
“It must be the magic cake pops,” Jake said, lifting a chocolate covered bell and flashing his teeth in a smile. A dash of white chocolate was smeared across his forehead and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Britney waved at me from behind Joey, grinning.
“Stay out,” I called.
Joey turned around and jumped. “You aren’t allowed in there,” he said, walking past her to deal with some new customers. Most likely telling them to come back—there was no way we had room for anyone else.
Britney pouted. “It was one little mistake.”
“I don’t call a fire a little mistake.”
Jake pivoted toward me. “A fire?”
I caught Britney’s glare over his shoulder and nodded, pointing. “We had to repaint that wall over there.”
“Ah, now I see why you’ve got one yellow wall.”
“So why is it so busy today?” Britney asked sweetly. She knew. I could tell that she knew.
I returned my focus to shaping cake pops. “I think they’re interested in the new town attraction.”
Jake continued dipping cooled cake pops in white chocolate. Judging by his face, he had no idea I was referencing him. Judging by Britney’s, she was shocked I would be so bold.
“Well, I’m going back to my lunch,” she said. “Want help with pictures later?”
“I’ve got it covered,” I said quickly.
“Okay, great. Just let me know if you change your mind.”
We worked in silence for a few minutes. It was comfortable, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to question me on the pictures. I snuck a peek at Jake while he dipped the bells. He still had that dash of chocolate across his forehead, and his periwinkle apron was covered with cake and chocolate.
“What pictures was your friend talking about?”
My hands stilled. Maybe if I didn’t answer him, he would let it go. I formed another bell, finished off the tray and took it to the freezer. When I returned to the counter to begin the next tray, Jake was dipping away. His help was making the process speed by. Why had I not considered asking for help before?
“Well?” he prompted.
Darn. I was hoping he’d let it go. “I was just planning on shooting a few pictures of these cake pops.”
“And you need help with that?”
My cheeks went hot. I could feel how red they were. “Only if I want to be in the photos, too.”
He stopped working then. “Is this part of your marketing plan?”
“No, just something I do for fun.”
“You take pictures of yourself with your food for fun?”
I bit back a smile. I guess what I did could be described like that, in a way. Except usually it was just my food and not myself, too.
Why had I mentioned to Britney that maybe I would pose with my pops at the parade? Ugh.
Jake finished off a tray and went to the freezer to grab another pan. He set it on the stainless-steel counter with a bang. “You do know that your reluctance to talk is only feeding my curiosity, right?”
“It’s really nothing—”
“Hey, Mads,” Patrick said, coming into the kitchen and wrapping me in a one-armed side hug. “Pops are looking great.”
I offered him a smile. “Thanks.”
“You got roped into working?” he asked Jake.
Jake merely smiled. “I had nothing else going on.”
Patrick nodded. He glanced around our workspace and then to Jake’s apron and mine. “Can’t say the same for myself, unfortunately.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll pick you up at six?”
Nodding, I suppressed the desire to wipe my wet cheek on my shoulder. I would have to wait until he left, but he was taking his sweet time. In the meantime, my wet cheek was beginning to itch.
“You are really busy today,” Patrick said. “You should try to figure out why and reproduce it. That could really help your business.”
Sure thing, Patrick. Why did I not think of that myself? I tried not to give him a death glare. He’d already turned to go and didn’t see it anyway.
“He’s a cool guy,” Jake said when we were alone again.
“I’m pretty sure there is no nicer man than Patrick.”
Jake scoffed. “I’ll try not to be offended by that.” He smiled playfully before dipping his final bell in the chocolate.
I watched him a moment longer. When his gaze sought mine, I looked away. Popping a chunk of the cake mixture in my mouth, I surreptitiously wiped my wet cheek on my shoulder.
“Did you just wipe off his kiss?”
I stilled. Seriously? Did Jake guess everything? “No.”
“Lie.”
“No it isn't.”
“Yeah it is.”
I squared my shoulders, leaning both hands on the counter. “You want the truth?”
“Yeah,” he said, mirroring my stance.
“Truth for truth, then,” I said.
His eyebrow hitched up. “Okay, fine.”
* * *
Jake
She looked so smug, leaning forward on the counter, her palms facing down and fingers splayed. I wanted so badly to lean in a little more too, just to see how she would react.
But her boyfriend had walked out of the kitchen moments before and despite the temptation, I wasn’t that kind of guy.
I did see her wipe the kiss off, though. Clearly that’s what she was doing. He left a mark so wet and shiny I saw it gleam from across the counter. But what I wanted even more than Patrick’s nonexistence, was for her to admit the truth.
“What do you want to know?” I asked. I was probably going to regret this, but I was having too much fun.
“Why are you in Holly Springs?” she asked, her face a work of stone.
I was such an idiot. Why hadn’t I predicted this? Well, there was more than one truth to that question, and I was going to give her the less incriminating one. “My grandma lives here.”
Her eyebrows rose and her hand slipped on the counter, but she righted herself quickly. I’d surprised her, and it gave me a really odd sense of accomplishment. “Now, your turn.”
“Yeah, I wiped it off,” she said, focusing on the icing she had been mixing. She pulled out a few smaller bowls and dropped food coloring into each of them before mixing in the icing. These bells really were more intricate than they needed to be.
“Knew it.” I took the last tray to the freezer and slid it inside. There wasn’t anything left for me to help with. I definitely couldn’t ice the bells with all that fancy decoration work Madison was doing.
“Who’s your grandma?”
I smiled at her attempt at nonchalance. She wasn’t fooling me. I could tell she was curious. “You probably don’t know her.”
She glanced up, her expression saying something along the lines of, Try me.
“Well,” I said. “I better go shower again. I have to clean up before this parade starts.” I stopped at the door and grinned. “I don’t want to be late for my first town party.”
“Hey, Jake?” she called.
I turned back. “Yeah?”
Her smile was dazzling and it made my heart fall into my stomach. Stupid, lucky Patrick. “You want to leave me the apron?” she asked.
I chuckled, sliding the purple apron over my head and tossing it to her. I saluted her and left the kitchen behind. “Hey, man,” I said, coming up to the Hispanic guy who had been running the diner all day. I’d forgotten his name.
“Joey,” he said.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “Can I get a cheeseburger?”
“Sure, man. Fries?”
“No, I can’t stand them,” I said. “I’ll take a Coke, though. And can you make it to-go? I’m going to run upstairs for a minute, but I’ll be back down in ten.”
Snowflake Wishes (Holly Springs Romance Book 1) Page 4
