Page 67 of Sweet Rivals

“It’s our one-year anniversary,” he said.

I thought about that for a minute. “What day do you count as the day we got together?”

He smirked. I pushed at his chest. “You’re an idiot.”

“Best day of my life,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, climbing out of bed and shuffling to the bathroom where I showered and dressed, finally feeling awake enough for our day. By the time I got out, Jared had showered, gotten dressed, and walked Potato. He waited for me on the front porch.

A month or so after we “got together”, he gave up his lease and bought a quintessential shore house with the wrap around porch, the outdoor shower, the three bedrooms, two baths, updated kitchen. It was perfect. After another few months, he convinced me to give up my place and move in with him. Introducing the pets took some work, but now we felt like one big, happy family.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yep.”

We stepped out the door and started our walk. It wasn’t the same walk that I had, but it was close enough that my routine didn’t feel off except for the fact that we did it during what felt like the middle of the night.

My parents were absolutely beside themselves when I told them that I was officially quitting the Lobster Tail and running the bakery with Jared. In truth, it hurt my feelings a little that they weren’t sad to see me go. I felt a little easy to replace, but they were just happy that their daughter had aligned herself with someone rich and famous.

Cat, for her part, teased me relentlessly over my romance with Jared, saying “I told you so,” almost every time I saw her.

Arriving at the bakery, knowing it was mine, never got old. It was hard work and sometimes stressful, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Sometimes Joel stopped by for reasons I couldn’t figure out. Since Jared became disentangled from the family business, their relationship improved slightly. We even had Thanksgiving with them, which was interesting to say the least.

The bells jangled overhead as we unlocked and pushed open the door, making our way through the front-end, to start baking for the day. I was excited to try a new recipe that had been bouncing around in my head. The amazing thing about owning my own bakery was that I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

Jared and I had found a comfortable ease in the kitchen together. Sometimes we worked silently, sometimes we chatted, sometimes we listened to music, but all of the time felt like we had been working together our whole lives.

Today, before he got started, he fiddled around with his phone, choosing a particular playlist. It had a bunch of pseudo-sappy romance songs like “Must be Love,” by Van Halen. When “Dancing in the Moonlight,” started playing, he grabbed my arm and spun me in a circle. I laughed as he danced me through the kitchen.

“Why are you so distractible today?” I asked as he spun me around again.

“It’s a special day,” he shrugged.

“Only for you.”

“I hope it might become a special day for you too.” Then he grabbed a cupcake from the counter and dropped to one knee.

“What?” I gasped, clapping my hands over my mouth.

In the blue icing of the cupcake, he had carefully created little fondant miniatures of Mouse and Potato. In the middle there was a lobster, wearing a crown, holding a ring with a giant diamond.

“Baking chick, will you marry me?” he asked.

I could only nod.

He stood up, pulled the icing covered ring off the cupcake, slipped it onto my finger and pulled me into a hug before pressing his lips to mine.

---