Page 13 of Resisting the Grump

“But I’m here on behalf of the Cake Café, which is one of the festival’s reigning champs.” She grabbed a card from the holder at the edge of the table and offered it to me. “We have a loyalty program,” she said, flipping it over so I could see the little cake icons just begging to be stamped. “If you’re into earning free treats.”

I took it from her as the last of her rich brownie melted down my throat. “You work there or something?”

She nodded and smiled.

“May I...?” I pinched the card between two fingers and held it up.

“Yes, of course. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

The invitation seemed genuine, and I was keen to accept it.

“Whatever you’re in the mood for, we have it!”

My stomach growled. Audibly. It could only be a response to her enthusiasm because there was no other explanation. “Is that so?” I asked, my mind throwing up visions of her pigtails in positions that would’ve instantly disqualified me from my esteemed position if anyone were to read my mind.

She blushed, and my whole body surged with satisfaction,

“So?” She clasped her hands in front of her and nodded at the trays between us. “What do you think?”

I pulled a card out of my wallet, along with a crisp fifty-dollar bill, and slipped them into the mason jar she was using to collect donations. “I think they’re the best brownies I’ve had today, and if you text me at the end of the festival, I’ll happily match whatever you raise.”

Her thin brows jumped with surprise. “Really?”

Did I mince my words? Did she not know who I was? My face was all over the literature for this thing. Maybe she was just excited. I refused to believe I came across as the kind of man who didn’t mean what he said. Just because I was an asshole didn’t mean I lacked integrity.

“Thanks,” she said quickly, as if all my thoughts had scrolled across my relaxed brow. “That’s really cool of you.”

Tell your friends, I wanted to say. I’m not out here tempting cavities for my goddamn health. “It’s your brownies that deserve the praise,” I said, taking a slow step towards the next table. “Enjoy the event.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You, too.”

I stared at her appreciatively one last time, wondering if she was as multilayered as those decadent brownies she’d made while simultaneously hoping she’d remember to text when this was over. Because it was for a good cause. And because she was downright moreish.

N I N E

- Avery -

I was fantasizing about wrestling Oliver Harrington when Noah’s voice broke through my reverie.

“I don’t know if I’m more happy or relieved,” he said, glancing up at the stage where Grace was standing behind her fancy apple pie amongst the other festival finalists.

“It’s okay to be both,” I said, noticing the warmth in his eyes as he admired her from afar.

“It would be a relief if she won,” he said. “She wants this so bad.”

Grace looked extra short from so far away. Then again, everyone on the stage looked short next to Oliver, who was conversing with the other judges near the band. He was wearing a petrol-blue suit for the occasion and looked like a sexy storm cloud floating in a sea of pink.

“Sixth place is nothing to sneeze at, though,” Noah said, elbowing me gently.

I smiled. “It’s not the silver star I wanted to score for The Café’s window, but I was in the top three for charitable donations.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Well, I will be once Oliver Harrington makes good on his promise to match what I collected.”

“Interesting.”

There was something about his tone that made me turn towards him. “What?”

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