Page 52 of Resisting the Grump

Definitely not there yet.

That said, baking all morning had made me feel better about the situation. Maybe Grace’s love of pastry was finally rubbing off on me. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was using the icing bag, which always sent me on a power trip. Whatever the cause of my high spirits, I suspected they were only going to get higher.

Oliver was taking me out again in two days, and while I was trying not to get my hopes up, it was hard not to. He was such a good conversationalist, and if I didn’t wear his tongue out at dinner, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer myself up for dessert. I sighed.

I’d forgotten how nice it was to look forward to a man’s company and feel as proud when he linked my arm in public as I did when he reached for me in private. Come to think of it, had I ever really had that? Sure, I’d dated some handsome men whose presence satisfied my body and my ego. But this was different. Being with Oliver satisfied my soul. I actually felt safe with him and safe to be myself with him.

In the shower this morning, I caught myself entertaining a full-on fantasy that we booked a weekend away at a luxury resort and the woman who scheduled my spa day called me Mrs. Harrington. I was so mesmerized by the thought I got shampoo in my eyes. The whole thing was beyond silly, and I’d never really liked the idea of changing my name but… Avery Harrington did have a nice ring to it.

But I was getting ahead of myself, both in life and cupcakes.

“Wow,” Kayleigh said, startling me out of the zone so suddenly I swirled vanilla icing from a cupcake to the counter. “Grace told me you were gone, but I didn’t realize you were this far gone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She pointed at my cat-faced creations. “Do those have fillings?”

I nodded. “Chocolate cream.”

“I have to hand it to you, Avery.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure there was no one waiting to be served before lowering her voice. “He is a total hunk.”

“Will you check the scones in that oven?” I asked, nodding towards them. Grace was meeting with a marketing expert as part of her Star Baker prize, and I wanted everything to be under control when she got back so she could jump straight to sharing every detail.

Kayleigh bent down to check the scones.

“Well?”

“They need a few more minutes,” she said, turning towards me again. “Did you know he was on the cover of Men’s Fitness magazine last year?”

I squinted at her.

“It’s just him and his rock-hard hip bones and, like, eighteen abs.”

I laughed. “I didn’t know that, but I suppose it’s less surprising to me than the fact that you’ve been Googling him.”

Kayleigh was only a few years younger than me, but I couldn’t help feeling protective of her. I did my best to hide it, though, because Grace put enough pressure on her, particularly when it came to her studies. She meant well, of course, and just wanted her sister to have options and opportunities she hadn’t had, but from where I was standing, Kayleigh deserved more credit than her sister gave her.

Not only was she wicked smart, but her Googling skills were obviously superior. How come I hadn’t found evidence of Oliver’s cover modeling?!

“It was for your own good,” she said, failing to suppress a smile.

I threw my eyes to the sky. “In that case, thanks for counting his abs. I feel so much safer.”

She smiled. “Grace told me you’re bonking him already.”

“Does she tell you all my business?” I asked, switching to the icing bag with the smaller tip so I could add specks of white to the cat’s eyes. “And what do you mean already?”

“You just met him at the festival a few weeks ago, right? If there’s anything I’ve learned from my big sister, it’s that you should wait at least fifteen years to sleep with someone.”

I shot her a conspiratorial look. “Good one. I suppose when you put it that way, things are moving pretty fast.”

“Is he the one?”

I stopped what I was doing and cocked my head at her. “You mean the one to melt my icy heart?”

“More like the one who can actually keep up with you?”

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

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