Page 57 of Frosting and Flames

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RACHEL

Istudy the tank top I have on in the mirror, twisting every which way to ensure there are no rogue stains on it. I’ve been caught before wearing a shirt out, only to realize too late I have something like chocolate or raspberry smeared all over a hard to see spot.

Not that this is a big deal, I remind myself. Nick and I are going to audition a high school band for a fundraiser. It’s not exactly romantic.

But after that slip of a kiss yesterday… No, that was acting. Barely anything.

But the way he looked in my eyes later as he kissed my knuckles…

No, no.Acting. That’s all it was.

So why was I completely off my game at the bakery today? Sydney caught me more than once standing with a measuring cup in hand, lost in thought. Over-mixing batter. Forgetting about what I had in the oven.

It was all so unlike me, she didn’t even tease me for it. She genuinely suggested I should go to the doctor.

I startle as my phone buzzes and the doorbell rings at the same time, and I chide myself for getting too wrapped up in my thoughts again. I check my phone, but it’s only a text from Mom, asking me to research cappuccino-infused eclairs to sell at the bakery.It’s a taste of Rome in every bite, she says, even though eclairs are French. She’s probably already forgotten about the ricotta cannolis.

I ignore her for now, heading to the front door.

Nick is there, still in his Aurora Fire Department shirt. He must be on the clock for this outing.

“You ready?” he asks, and I nod, shutting and locking the door behind me.

When I turn, his gaze cuts to the video doorbell and back to me. He leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I missed you.”

I stare at him, tangled in a cacophony of confusion for a moment before my brain connects the dots. The camera in the doorbell. Right.

“I—I missed you, too.” I stumble over the words, even though they’re not a lie. I did miss him. Thought about him all day.

He takes my hand in his as he leads us down the porch steps and toward his truck, the same as we did last night. But this time I’m prepared. I swipe my thumb over his inner palm, reveling in the roughness, and he looks over at me, a question in his gaze.

I look straight ahead, as if I did nothing. What am I doing? He’s holding my hand for the camera, not because of anything else.

Even so, after he situates me in the passenger side and rounds the front of the truck, I hold my hand to my cheek for the briefest moment, swearing I can feel the imprint of his lips there.

When we’re on the road, I bring up the topic of advertising for the fundraiser, so I don’t start rambling about hand holding and cheek kisses and other stupid things that mean nothing.

I tell him I’ll make a flyer now that we have a date and he agrees to take it around to places like the library and community center to put on their bulletin boards. He also has contacts at the schools and local churches that may be willing to help spread the word, too.

Of course I’ll put a stack of flyers out at work as well, especially since I’ll list Aurora Bakery as acommunity partner. I can’t imagine Sydney or Hailey will have a problem with it.

Nick stops at a secluded cul de sac on the far side of town, and it’s fairly obvious which house we’ll be going to, since there’s only one with the garage open and a gaggle of teenagers spilling out from inside.

We exchange a glance but say nothing as we make our way there.

“They’re here,” an excited whisper sounds from ahead, and the crowd of about ten teens parts to reveal the actual band—a boy with shaggy hair on drums, a girl with a rainbow pixie cut on bass, and another boy who must be the fire chief’s nephew based on facial similarities with a microphone clutched in one hand and a guitar in the other.

I’m not sure who the other teens are. Maybe friends here to support the band?

“Oh, no way. You’re the firefighter,” a kid from the group says to Nick, awe all over his face.

“Um, yeah?” Nick responds, almost in a questioning way.

The boy stuffs his hands in his hoodie pocket, as if he isn’t sure what to do with them. “That was so cool what you did last week, pulling that guy out of the wreck over on Second Street.”

Nick shifts, appearing taken aback, and shrugs. “Just doing my job.”

---