Page 72 of Go Cook Yourself

“And your grandma would’ve been delighted to have you back here, too.”

I smile as I busy myself making a pile of wreath bits that can be used for tomorrow. I don’t want to return to the regrets of not being around my grandparents in their last months, although it’s motivating several of my life decisions.

“But she’d want different for you, too.”

I catch Kath’s eye. She’s staring at me with the raised eyebrow stare that used to annoy Jem and me when we were younger. She always knew when we’d pilfered grandma’s silver cake sprinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You’re amazing for this cookery school and carrying on your sister’s work amiably, but it’s not what you want. I’ve tasted your practice bakes for Clive’s competition and seen the skills you teach the groups here. You need to start your own business again. When baking, you’re individual, creative, and in your own world. You’re a lone wolf, and your future should reflect that.”

I stutter to respond. It was often what I thought with Naughty Treats. I want to go it alone, but I don’t have the capital to start something like that again. I don’t want to do the competition with Clive. With the skills Garett taught me, I want to start my own business, but I can’t without the finances.

Kath jumps up. “Let’s get on because we’ve got busy weeks coming up.” She reels off the following days at the cookery school, ticking them off with her fingers as she does. “Wreath making the next three nights, then Friday we’ve got a ladies group in the day. On Saturday, we’re hosting a children’s party during the day, followed by more wreath making in the evening. Sunday is that Christmas meal cookery session for beginners. That was such a good idea of Garett’s. Of course people hosting for the first time want help.”

I nod absentmindedly. This competition with Clive could limit me rather than benefit me. But Amber and the babies need the money.

“Garett really seems to care.” Her words grab my attention.

“About me?” I squeak.

“About the school.” Her eyes soften, and some of the wrinkles around them disappear. “But he cares about you, too. Tonight was enlightening.”

I recall the teasing and the laughter. It pulls at my heart like the old wives’ tale of tying a string around a wobbly tooth and shutting a door to pull it out. “But it was fake.”

“It’s not how it looked to me, but then I’m an old lady with no knowledge of people.” I cock my head at her, and she laughs.She’s not fooling anyone. “But is anyone that good at faking feelings, especially a formerly grumpy chef who’s changed since you joined us? It appeared real.”

I shrug and turn away to hide the myriad of emotions reflected on my face. There were the public moments, but there was also his extra care when no one was watching, like when he slipped me a dark red flower to add to the wreath or ensured I had a glass of wine and sat comfortably before he sipped his. The glances and the occasional touch of hands were just for me.

A shiver crosses my shoulders as Flora stomps up to the hideaway. She eyeballs me suspiciously, and I recall how she glared at me the night we met.

“It was all for show,” I counter to Kath, my face flaming under Flora’s stare. “We’re friends, and he’s very good at doing the right thing. That’s all. He probably employed all his skills with his dog-stealing ex-girlfriend.” I laugh in an attempt to lighten the moment, but no one joins in. When we were together, he said he’d only had one-night stands, but I’m sure that meant in addition to his ex-girlfriend. I shake my head. I don’t like thinking about that awful woman who stole his dog. “But let’s talk more about Amber. I want your advice on how I can help her mood."

Chapter Thirty-Six

Garett

Cookie jumps up at me as Ruby’s parents, Iain and Liz, welcome me into the house.

“You have a key that you can use at any time,” Iain says as I cuddle Cookie. “Not that we mind opening the door, as it’s always lovely to see Cookie’s excitement with you.”

I smile and say the same thing every time he or Liz opens the door. “I don’t want to be rude. You’ve been so kind, and I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“But think of my weary body every time I have to get up,” he jokes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Liz adds. “It’s good for him to get his lazy bum out of the chair. He spends too much time watchingColumboand eating Ruby’s baking.”

We have this conversation almost daily, and I lap it up like the needy-for-family man I am. It’s the real reason I still knock. I live for it.

“There’s nothing lazy about my bum,” Iain replies as he proceeds to chase Liz around the open plan kitchen that looks like something out of a Cotswold Homes brochure. Cookie joins in and starts chasing them.

It’s a thump to my chest. For years, I’ve tried to prove myself and create a business that shows that my childhood didn’t define me. I’ve always chosen work above a potential relationship. Andyet, when Liz whips Iain with a teatowel as he wiggles his bum at her, there’s this deep pull in me. I want a partner to chase me around our kitchen as Cookie jumps around us. I hold my breath. When I imagine it, it’s Ruby chasing me.

But I can’t want her.

There’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it, if that’s okay. It’s my little sister, Flora. We’re going to walk Cookie together.”

“Of course,” Liz says with a smile.

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