Page 109 of Fire and Icing

“I think Dustin likes you. The way he looks at you … always seeks you out … took a week of his life off to go support you … that dance last night … dedicating a song to you about waiting for love? Yep. He’s got it bad.” She nods her head definitively. “So, you might ask, why doesn’t a man who has all those feelings,a man as bold as Dustin, ask the woman out if he’s interested?” She raises her brows and widens her eyes in my direction. “Well, I’m glad you asked.”

“I didn’t.”

She scoffs. “He’s afraid to make a move because you have made it abundantly clear you don’t want him to. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place—I’m not sure if you’re the rock or the hard place in this scenario, but the bottom line is, if you like him, you’re going to have to step out of that cozy little comfort zone of yours and take a chance on Dustin. By the way you look at him, I know you want to.”

“Maybe.”

Syd rolls her eyes. “No maybe about it.”

I spend the rest of the evening at Syd’s. All the way home I think about her advice, or whatever you want to call it. Truth bombs. She’s like a skilled tactical pilot deploying missiles at her target. And she simply flies off into the great blue yonder while I sift through the rubble. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. A friend who doesn’t tell you the deepest truths you need to hear—whether you like it or not—isn’t a true friend.

When I get home, I grab my Kindle and a cup of tea and wait in the living room for Dustin to come home. It’s after ten when I finally remember he’s working a twenty-four hour shift. He won’t be home until after seven in the morning. And I’ll be at the bakery by then.

I only get four and a half hours of sleep. I’d call Syd and ask her to cover opening the shop so I could get at least another half-hour of rest, but the camera crew from Plated Network is coming today to film a behind the scenes “candid” video as a part of whatthey’ll intersperse into the episodes. We’ll be back on the estate in two days to film the finale when they’ll announce the winner live.

I’m serving customers and trying to avoid the chronic awareness of cameras when the bell over the shop door tinkles.

Vanessa walks in with an all-knowing look on her face.

“Hello, everyone,” she greets the cameramen and production team. “So good to see you all again.”

“Can we get you anything, Vanessa?” Syd asks.

“No. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here at a table, watching the festivities.”

She’s probably here to soak up the spotlight and stir up a little behind-the-scenes drama. Classic Vanessa. I can’t exactly ask her to leave while I’m being filmed, so I force what I hope is a friendly grin in her direction and then I get back to work. The camera crew stays for over an hour and then they tell me they’re meeting Dustin at the station.

“It’s his day off,” I inform them.

“He’s coming in to meet us there,” one of the crew members tells me. “We need to get additional footage of a few things we missed during our first visit.”

The camera crew packs up and heads out, Vanessa lingers, then falls into step behind them—like she’s got a press pass. She doesn’t. But that’s not stopping her from weaving her way into the group, all casual-like, as if she's earned the right to tag along. She’s always had a talent for slipping in uninvited.

Syd and I exchange the same heavily-weighted look we’ve shared since elementary school.

“If you want to suddenly set something on fire, I wouldn’t blame you,” Syd says under her breath. “I know a fireman …”

I chuckle. “Thank goodness for you.”

“What? Because I’m a hobby arsonist?”

“Because you have my back.”

“I do. And please, always remember that.”

There’s something serious in the undercurrent behind her words, like a woman recently diagnosed with a serious illness.

I almost ask her if she’s okay again, but she already gave me the only answer I’m going to get. When she’s ready to tell me what’s really going on, she will.

Dustin and I haven’t crossed paths much since the evening I spent at Syd’s. It’s been a crazy week and our schedules have never aligned. I want to talk to him—need to, actually. I’m not sure where this is heading, but I know I have to stop dancing around my feelings for him.

I wake early so we can get on the road with a little time to spare. I’m in the kitchen pouring coffee when the basement door opens and he walks through. I may never get used to his size and the way he fills a room with his presence. It’s not merely physical. He’s just … here. Unavoidable. Demanding attention, but not in a way that’s overbearing. He definitely overwhelms me. I’m off balance, and yet he also steadies me in a way no one ever has.

“Morning,” he says, smiling this adorable half-smile.

“Morning. Want coffee?”

He sticks his arm out toward me as if I’m about to draw blood. “Got an I.V.?”

---