Page 49 of Flake It Til You Make It

“Carl’s looks like an animal of some kind,” Rocco speculated. “And Murphy’s? Well, I’m not sure what that is.” He shot Taylor a worried glance. “He knows what he’s doing, right?”

“He wouldn’t get up there if he didn’t,” Taylor said. “Besides, he told me the other day, ice isn’t really that different than wood. A little easier to carve, he claimed.”

“Well, I hope he meant it,” Rocco said. Because what Murphy looked like he was carving was a building of some kind. Maybe? It was hard to tell. It just looked like one block stacked on another block, whereas Carl’s was already taking noticeable shape, between his chainsaw and the different chisels he was employing to carve away chunks of ice, leaving just the design behind.

“Murphy always says what he means,” Taylor murmured.

It wasn’t a stretch that Taylor was still thinking of someone else—someone who mightnotmean every word they said.

Rocco nudged him. “I know he bothered you,” he said.

Taylor just shrugged. “I guess,” he said absently, but the truth was obvious.

“No, he bothered you, and frankly, I can’t blame you for being bothered, because he was kind of a smug asshole, but don’t let him ruin your mood or this evening.”

Taylor looked over at Rocco and finally seemed to really be seeing him. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just . . .I hadn’t met him before, and I could pretend that I had a shot easier, before I had.”

“I know,” Rocco said. “But I meant it. You’ve got this. Definitely more than Murphy does.”

“No,no, I know what he’s making. It’s a wedding cake,” Taylor said, and he laughed, suddenly and pointed at the stage.

Itwas. There were the cake layers emerging now, Rocco could see them even across the expanse between them and the stage. And Murphy was using a little chisel to carve out flowers and trim on each layer, and finally, the crowning glory, two small figures on the top, holding hands.

The cheers were deafening as Jem jumped back on stage and pulled Murphy into a big hug and then kissed him, hard and wild, leaving him blushing a bright red.

“I know mine’s not as exciting, but it’s still a present for you two,” Carl said laconically, smiling as he glanced at them. “They always say penguins mate for life.”

And yes, Carl’s penguin seemed to be gazing at Murphy and Jem with real affection in its icy eyes, congratulating them without words.

“That’s so cool,” Rocco said, looking over at Taylor. He was smiling, too, but Rocco wasn’t naive enough to think even the loving display had banished Taylor’s bad mood entirely.

He’d just have to try a little harder.

“You ready to take a spin around the rink?” Rocco said. “I could use some cocoa, to warm up.”

“Even substandard cocoa?” Taylor teased.

“You didn’t hear me say that,” Rocco said. “I spent like the first month I was here trying to convince Joel that we weren’t competitors. The last thing I need is for my opinion of his cocoa to get back to him.”

“Joel’s a cool guy. I think he knows he’s serving it more for quantity than quality,” Taylor said. “And yeah, let’s get some and skate.”

They walked over to the rink, where a lot of people had headed after the ice carving demonstration. The rink was full, on a Saturday night, even without an official “social” being hosted, and Rocco recognized probably a dozen or so of the people sliding across the ice and milling around the refreshment area, just chatting with other townspeople.

“It’s busy tonight,” Rocco said.

“This your first time here?” Taylor asked.

Rocco nodded. “Just don’t ask me if I can skate.” He was trying not to be apprehensive about it, but he also knew Taylor wouldn’t let him humiliate himself.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t when I moved here, either.”

“And now?” Rocco wondered.

“Well, it’s practically a requirement of citizenship,” Taylor said. “But if you’re not ready—”

“No, no, we can, I just . . .I havenoidea.”

“You can hang onto me,” Taylor said.

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