Page 51 of The Sweetest Ingredient

We shared a smile.

Bree gave me a thumbs up. “You’ve got this, Kenzi. I hope the judge loves your dog biscuits.”

Chantel grinned, giving my arm a squeeze. “Whatever happens, it’s not about winning, it’s about proving to everyone that you’ve got talent and passion. But for the record, you’re totally going to nail it!”

“Thanks, you two. With cheerleaders like you, how can I fail?”

Chantel and Bree wandered off to browse the other booths and sample the goodies.

Jordan blew out a low whistle. “Looks like we have a lot of competition.”

I spotted Maxwell Turner, Bishop’s cousin, and our main rival across the town square from us. His booth, adorned with lavish decorations reminiscent of his opulent Sweet Sensations bakery, boasted a variety of extravagant mini-cakes that looked almost too pretty to eat.

Bishop squinted against the sunlight. “Of course, Maxwell would go all out,” he muttered, frowning. “But taste is what matters most, and we’ve got that covered.”

“And our yummy Mochi-approved treats,” I said.

The residents of Serenity Falls were out in full force, sampling delicacies and chatting about their favorites. Laughter and exclamations of delight wafted on the breeze, drumming up anticipation for the competition’s results.

We greeted each visitor with attentiveness, describing our baked goodies and offering samples. Many customers left with satisfied smiles and promises to return. Mochi did a frisky spin and barked, as if trying to gain the attention of each person visiting our booth.

I tilted my head, a teasing grin forming on my lips. “Think the competition has any idea that they’re up against the best bakery in town?”

Bishop straightened a stack of cookies on the display. “Oh, I’d say they’re shaking in their aprons right about now. Especially since we have a secret weapon.”

“Oh?” Twirling a strand of hair, I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He leaned in. “A certain someone with an amazing smile and a flair for misquoting Jane Austen. Though I have to admit, I’m beginning to think that’s part of your cute charm.”

“Misquoting Austen? Never! Just giving her words a modern twist.” I blew out a breath. My nerves tensed rigid as a cat at a dog parade. “How are you so calm? I’m a nervous wreck.”

He patted my shoulder. “Don’t stress it. If we lose, we still tried our best, right?”

“Wow, Bishop giving pep-talks. I like it.” Mochi whined and pawed at my leg. “Jordan? Do you mind taking Mochi for a quick walk to do her doggy business?”

“No prob.” Jordan and Mochi walked off toward the parking area.

“Kenzi!” Mrs. Hall, the town librarian, approached with her French bulldog, Maxine. “I’ve heard great things about your pet treats. Can Maxine try one?”

I smiled, holding out a bone-shaped biscuit for the perky bulldog, who gobbled it down and wagged her butt, begging for more. “Looks like we’ve got another fan.”

My confidence soared, and Mrs. Hall nodded with a smile before they moved onto the next booth.

“Okay, everyone,” Bishop whispered, “the bake-off judge, Miranda Shaw, is finally here with her dog, Duchess.”

Miranda walked up to a stall on our left. Her short black hair framed dainty Asian features, and her sharp gaze peeked out from behind rectangular glasses. An elegant crimson dress draped her slender frame, while her simple flats hinted at an understated sophistication. Trotting beside Miranda was Duchess, a silver-gray poodle with a diamond-studded pink collar.

“No pressure,” I muttered.

As Miranda sampled the baked goods at each booth on her way toward ours, each bite made her face brighten one moment and then crumple the next. At Maxwell’s stall, she took a nibble of an éclair and her mouth immediately downturned. His shoulders slumped, and a twinge of sympathy struck me. Miranda moved on, slowly making her way toward our booth.

“Here she comes.” Bishop straightened up the napkins.

Jordan returned and wrung his hands, and Mochi sat on the grass near him.

Miranda moved to our booth, scanning our array of baked goods with a discerning eye. Duchess waited patiently at her side, sniffing the grass, then touching noses with Mochi. They both wagged their tails.

“Good afternoon, Miss Shaw,” Bishop greeted her warmly. “Welcome to Doughy Desires. We’ve prepared a delightful assortment of pastries for you to sample.”

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