Page 23 of The Sweetest Ingredient

“We’ve got a problem.” His full lips pressed together, his posture stiff. “I know who’s spreading these lies. It’s my cousin, Maxwell.”

I wiped my hands on my pink apron. “Ah, our friendly neighborhood rival. Do tell.”

His jaw clenched. “I spoke to a friend, who told me he overheard Maxwell at the bank, spreading nasty rumors about my bakery, which Mrs. Henderson and Mr. Patel just confirmed. The guy’s been a thorn in my side for years.”

Serenity Falls might have that small-town vibe, but there were still plenty of people I didn’t know, like Maxwell Turner. Since I usually worked from home, I didn’t get out much to meet people.

I refilled the coffeemaker with dark roast grounds. “We can’t let him tarnish the reputation of your bakery.” I tilted my head. “How long has Maxwell owned the other bakery? What does he specialize in? Give me all the dirt.”

“Maxwell opened Sweet Sensations two years ago. Our families used to be friendly, but that changed when our grandfather died.”

“Ah, so this rivalry is practically a family tradition. Clearly, a Shakespearean tragedy in the making.”

“More or less,” he muttered and placed one hand flat on the counter. “Sweet Sensations is known for its specialty cakes. Maxwell suddenly had this belief that he’s a culinary prodigy of sorts.” His brows furrowed. “Kenzi, these lies could really harm us, and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Don’t you worry, Bishop. We’ll put a stop to those rumors.”

I laid my hand over his, and the warmth from his skin seeped into me. Instead of retreating, his hand shifted subtly, fingers curling around mine in a comforting squeeze. My body trembled under the intensity of his gaze. The world had narrowed down to only the two of us and the intertwined heat of our hands, as though we were on the precipice of something profoundly intimate.

“Kenzi,” he said, his voice soft and raspy, as if he too was grasping at the reins of his emotions.

“Yes?” I whispered, hyperaware of his closeness.

He was quiet, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of the oven and the gurgle of the coffeemaker. I inhaled a whiff of Bishop’s cologne, a subtle blend of cedar and citrus notes that made me feel lightheaded.

Smelling salts, anyone?

He drew in a breath before moving his hand away. Looking down, I saw him clench his fingers and unclench them as if my touch had affected him, too.

That split second of candid emotion, combined with his usual strength, somehow made him all the more attractive.

His shoulders tensed. “I need a minute.”

“Are you okay?”

“No,” he said flatly. “This Maxwell situation is…a lot.”

“I’m coming with you.” I followed him as he strode into the kitchen. As I passed Jordan making a crepe, I said, “Watch the front counter for me, please. Be right back.”

Bishop’s office was small and tidy, with a simple wooden desk that held his laptop, stacks of paperwork, and framed photos of his parents and grandparents. Cookbooks and various knickknacks filled the shelves lining the walls. A window overlooking an alley bathed the room in soft yellow light.

Bishop took a seat at the desk while I stood.

“I’m wondering why your cousin would do such a thing. Does Maxwell have a grudge against sugar and happiness?”

“Or just against me,” Bishop said darkly.

Our eyes locked for a potent second and the air was charged with a sizzling intensity. Startled by the sudden intimacy, my brain scrambled for something to say.

“If a cake is well baked, I always find it too small,” I blurted, misquoting Jane Austen.

Bishop retook his seat. “That’s not quite how I remember the quote from Sense and Sensibility, but it’s clever.”

“I take pleasure in my literary adaptability. You’re familiar with Austen’s works? Not that I mind, but it’s unusual.”

Bishop tugged at his collar. “Um, yeah. My mom is a big fan and read them to me when I was a kid. They weren’t the typical bedtime tales, and as I got older, watching the movies together became our thing.”

“I like your mom already and can’t wait to meet her someday.” I tapped my chin with a finger, then said, “I just had a thought, a way to prove the rumors are false.”

---