Page 31 of Cut The Cake

Her heart thudded. She couldn’t, simply couldn’t, alter the plans for the wedding one more time. Not only would shop owners all over town revolt, but disaster—which had held off so far—was sure to strike if anything else changed. Barely daring to breathe, she refused to budge until the phone stopped bleating.

When the last chime finally faded, her chest expanded. The welcome feeling of relief didn’t last long. Before she had a chance to place her order for a veggie pizza, the phone shimmied to the beat of an incoming text. Her lips pursed. She squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them, the I Do Cakes icon on her screen put her worries on a temporary hold. Nick was in the lobby. He wondered if she could meet him downstairs. Suddenly, the need to fill her empty stomach didn’t seem quite so pressing.

Be right down, she texted back, doing her best to deny the shiver of anticipation that danced across her midsection.

She brushed a hand over her wrinkled pencil skirt and frowned. The idea of appearing rumpled and worn out when Nick saw her held as much appeal as a cup of lukewarm coffee. As quickly as she could, she stepped into slim-fitting jeans and tugged her favorite T-shirt over her head. She ran a brush through her hair, then captured the unruly mess into a ponytail and checked her reflection in the full-length mirror. She still looked like someone who’d spent the day putting out fires, but she’d managed to hide some of her defeat behind a bit of blush and a dab of lip gloss. For now, it would have to do. Seconds later, her sandals made slapping noises on the treads as she hustled down the stairs to the spot where Nick stood talking with Marybeth.

“Hey,” he said, his smile widening as he noticed her approach

“Hey, yourself. I didn’t know you were stopping by. Did I forget we were meeting tonight?” Even as she said the words, she knew she hadn’t. She might have trouble remembering every detail of her fake fiancé’s bio, but she’d never forget a date with Nick, no matter how impromptu. Being around him made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, a feeling she liked a lot more than she had any right to.

But why was that?

Sure, he’d been blessed with movie-star good looks—dark, wavy hair that ended just below a chiseled jaw, deep-set eyes and broad shoulders. But, living in Hollywood, she’d grown used to seeing handsome men wherever she went. No, her attraction to him went more than skin deep. He made her feel good about herself. Not only that, but he’d offered her his friendship, and, at the rate problems were mounting around Kay’s wedding, she needed all the friends she could get.

“You didn’t come by the bakery this afternoon, so I thought I’d bring you a treat.” He held out a dome-shaped container.

Her stomach gurgled happily. “You don’t know how much I need this. Thanks.”

“Can’t have you wasting away before your big day, can we?”

At Nick’s innocent reminder of the impending nuptials—and the secrets she’d been keeping since she’d arrived in town—her temporary good mood plummeted. “I guess not,” she murmured. It was bad enough that she had to hide the truth from everyone else. Keeping it from him was killing her.

“Heart’s Landing is lucky to have you, Nick,” Marybeth interrupted. “You take such good care of our guests. Here, let me dish that up for you. How about some coffee or tea to go with it?” She held out her hand for the box.

“Thanks. That’d be nice. Tea for me, if you don’t mind.” Hoping she didn’t come across as desperate for company as she felt, Jenny raised her eyes to meet Nick’s. “Can you stay for a bit?”

“Why not?” A lock of dark hair fell onto Nick’s forehead. He brushed it back. “If you don’t mind, Marybeth, I’ll take a cup of tea, too.”

Without another word, Marybeth darted into the kitchen.

Alone with Nick, Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to the other. At last, she led them to a pair of matching overstuffed chairs by the fireplace. As she crossed the room that had been so crowded earlier, she said, “You should have been here twenty minutes ago. It was standing room only in here.”

“The Smith wedding.” Nick dropped down on a chair across from her.

Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t have to be there?” From what he’d told her during their tasting, he usually handled I Do Cake’s deliveries and stayed through the reception.

“Not this time. They didn’t want a cake.”

“No?” Jenny tucked her feet under her. “Who does that?”

“It takes all kinds.” Nick crossed his ankles. “Some people just don’t like it.”

“They obviously haven’t had yours,” she interjected.

“There is that,” Nick agreed with a slow smile. “It doesn’t happen often, but some brides serve a traditional dessert or pie instead. At one reception, the family constructed a wall covered with pegs. No one could figure out what it was for until one of the groomsmen showed up with boxes and boxes of donuts. He hung three or four from every post and let the guests grab them as they walked by.”

“Oh, no, they didn’t.” At the thought of guests simply helping themselves, Jenny gave her head a firm shake. “I won’t be doing that at my wedding.”

Or Karolyn’s, either.

“Too many sticky fingers for me.” Nick gave an exaggerated shudder.

She laughed, finally at ease for the first time all day. Nick filled her in on the happenings at the bakery—a tasting that had gone particularly well that morning, a new bread recipe Jimmy planned to try. As if she didn’t want to intrude, Marybeth stopped by long enough to settle a tray of tea things on the table between them and left. Jenny filled their cups while Nick finished telling a funny story about his apprentice. While he took his first sip, she eyed the yellow cupcake on her plate. Lemon wasn’t her favorite, but with her stomach issuing strict orders to stop being picky and feed it, she forked up a small bite. Like fresh-squeezed citrus on a summer day, flavor burst onto her tongue and dissolved, leaving behind the memory of tart sweetness.

“This is the best,” she said, forking up another bite.

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