Page 37 of Frosting and Flames

“Yeah.” I almost say something about that’s what friends do, but stop myself. I don’t want her to see me as a friend. If I’m being honest with myself, I want her to see me as something more. “Just, uh, pay me in raspberry danishes, okay? They’re worth their weight in gold.”

She shakes her head, mock exasperated. “You’ve had a danish here one time.”

“And it was a life-changing experience.”

Her lips tilt up, looking pleased.

I like this dynamic we have going on. Maybe I’ve broken through that first outer wall. I have no doubt there’s more to come, but the groundwork’s been laid.

When we head back in, Sydney glances up from what she’s doing, eyeing her sister carefully. Seeming satisfied, she says,“Wasn’t sure if you two were going to keep flirting out there or eventually come help us.”

Next to me, Rachel’s cheeks redden, her lips pursing, but she doesn’t respond. I can’t tell if she’s embarrassed or annoyed by the comment.

Maybe both.

The cake she dropped is still on the floor, but she ignores it, heading back over to the sink to remove the drain stopper and let the now-cold water drain out.

“I can do up these dishes,” I tell her. “You should be working on the orders, right?”

She nods and takes one last look at me. “Thank you.”

She’s gone, then. Absorbed in her work as she jumps into helping Hailey and Sydney, and I refill the sink with hot water and soap.

Two hours and a never-ending barrage of dishes later, I’m all caught up, taking the time to clean up the cake and frosting off the floor, too.

I yawn loudly, my jaw cracking, and cover my mouth with the back of my hand. I can’t wait to get home and crawl under the covers. Working in a fire station for so long with odd shifts, I’ve learned to get sleep when I can. After twenty-four-hour shifts, I usually go home and nap for a couple of hours to recharge enough to go to bed at a normal time later that night. My sleep schedule would be completely messed up, otherwise.

“Late night?” Sydney asks, noticing me.

“Oh, no. I just got off shift when I came over.”

Rachel looks up from where she’s piping macarons. “You work the night shift? But you responded during the day the other week.”

“No. We do twenty-four hours on, forty-eight hours off.”

She sets down her piping bag. “You’ve been doing the dishes here for hours after working that long? Oh my God, Nick.”

She bustles over and takes my arm, leading me out the double doors to the front of the bakery.

“Um, bye,” I say to Sydney and Hailey, pretty sure I’m being kicked out.

Hailey’s looking at Rachel curiously, while Sydney waves back, a sly grin on her face.

Once we’re up front, Rachel goes behind the counter to the glass display case and pulls out three danishes, one with the distinctive red raspberry filling, another with a bright yellow center, and the third I can’t tell.

She bags them up and hands them to me. “Raspberry, lemon curd, and hazelnut praline danishes. I can’t believe you’ve been sleep-deprived this whole time.”

“Well, I wanted to see you.”

The words slip out without my meaning them to, and I’m glad I didn’t say it in front of Sydney, who I have a feeling would tease Rachel mercilessly about that.

Thankfully, the girl at the counter doesn’t seem to be paying attention to us.

“You wanted to see me?” Rachel repeats quietly. Her gaze flickers over me, assessing, like she’s trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together that won’t click into place.

“Yeah,” I reply lamely, fairly sure that was the wrong thing to say. That she had no intention of seeing me today. Even if she offered to help with the fundraiser or teach me to make chili, that doesn’t mean she’s looking forward to those things. “I should get home and get some sleep.”

“Right,” she says faintly.

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