Page 66 of A Touch of Spring Magic

She let go of his hand, but he continued to watch her, clearly weighing something he wanted to say. Part of her wanted to wait to see what was, and another part—a smaller part—urged caution. She still had to make dozens of pastries and crusts tonight, and while they might be her favorite, she didn’t want anything messing with her baking mojo like going melty over a guy, whose feelings for her might still be permanently lodged in the friend zone, but some days she felt he was holding back, and she’d debated—flirt and encourage or play it safe?

After the party, maybe it was time to revisit.

Ugh focus on Cramer-Maye Nursery and Botanical Gardens.

Yup, she finally settled on a business name and Meghan had helped her with all the licenses and legal requirements. She even had a website and had been documenting the changes and plantings and cats for her new social media accounts.

But looking at Storm, and the expression in his eyes, made her feel a spark of bold that had felt missing for years and then intermittently this spring as her vision sprang literally to life. She was tired of playing it safe. After the party, she was going to talk to him.

“See you tomorrow,” she said softly, wanting to say so much more. She walked toward the house peeling off her gloves and hoping he was watching her walk away.

*

Jessica rolled outone continuous rectangle or pastry. Meghan wanted to make sweet mini tortes and fruit pies, but Jessica had claimed several savory recipes—discussing the ingredients and prep with her sisters and Rustin before making her final selection. She’d baked one hundred twenty mini pastries for the shepherd’s pie and caramelized onion, butternut squash and delicata squash tarts, as well as the filling for both. Tonight she was baking another one hundred plus tart pastries—an intriguing chard and Gruyère corn and spring onion tart and her favorite from theSouthern Love Spellsbook—the Sweetheart’s Tryst: a fig, date, bacon and blue cheese stuffed date tart with honey, rosemary and balsamic vinegar with pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top.

This was the one she was saving for last since it had the strange instruction about an unbiased eye. Already, Meghan had popped over last night to help with her crusts. They’d had so much fun. The time had flown as they’d rolled out all the pastry she’d had chilling overnight and, forming the crust for the tarts, Jessica hadn’t accomplished finishing the filling for three of her tarts like she’d planned because Meghan’s savory plum tart had been more complicated than either of them had anticipated.

So tonight she was alone and determined to prepare the Sweetheart’s Tryst.

She rolled, cookie-cuttered the tarts in the shape of hearts and baked the crusts while she assembled the ingredients for the filling. She looked at the fairy, still vigilant on her windowsill. She and Storm had found a lot of quirky garden art on their shopping excursions, and Chloe had come up with the idea of theming the found objects with the gardens and having a scavenger hunt for kids. She’d also floated the idea of theming the garden for holidays and cycling in other art or having guest artists show.

Jessica was embarrassed that she liked the idea so much and had handed over the creation to her sister. And she’d yet to find a place for the vintage fairy.

“Tomorrow,” she promised, as the fairy deserved to shine.

*

“Time to change.”Jessica hunted down Sarah and Meghan who’d arrived around eight this morning to help set up for the party. Chloe’s a cappella college choir had also come to set up the clusters of tables and chairs on the lawn with umbrellas, and there were other seating areas in the shade of a grove of magnolias and also dogwood and jacaranda trees that had stood sentry long before any of the Maye sisters had been born.

A string quartet from South Point Abbey College warmed up, and both of the food trucks were setting up and beginning to cook—Mexican food for one and barbecue for the second truck. The cocktail bar—a converted Airstream trailer—was parked to the left of the house’s back porch. A gaudy pink flamingo awning—seriously, Chloe, didn’t they have other styles—spilled across the open area along with some bistro tables. There were three bartenders setting up, and Jessica, after a quick look around, and seeing nothing out of place, though the water fountain and water feature had yet to be turned on, said a brief prayer and ran inside the house to take a quick shower, trusting Sarah and Meghan to be equally speedy.

She wasn’t as quick as either of them, dang it, and when she arrived in the kitchen, she saw Storm, no longer dressed in work clothes, munching on one of the Sweetheart Tryst tarts.

“What are you doing? Those are for the party.” She leapt forward as if to slap it from his hands.

He held it aloft, grinning. “It’s delicious. I’ve been working hard. Why hold out on a friend?”

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Friend’ had a tone to it.

“I had a tray of snacks for all the helpers. It’s on the table along with a cooler of water and drinks in the breakfast nook. I gave explicit instructions that nothing in the kitchen could be eaten.”

“Yes, boss, you did.”

That smile. So much trouble.

“I had all the party food trayed perfectly and labeled and a blueprint as to which snacks go where on the grazing table. You can’t eat from the guest trays. They’ll look picked over.”

“I didn’t. There was a plate of samples and I grabbed this one. It’s delicious.”

“Those aren’t for you. They are for the guests.” She could feel her heart pounding, and she knew, just knew that she sounded unreasonable. Over-reactive.

“Hey, Jay.” He stuffed the last of the tart in his mouth and she watched him chew. He moved into her and smoothed his hands down her bare arms. “I’m sorry, but the tart I grabbed was not on a party tray. Sarah and Meghan had already started moving those out to the grazing table, and I cleaned up in the outdoor shower, got dressed and came to find you so that you could do the honors with the water feature and check out the decorations in the barn.”

She swallowed her panic and searched his eyes for what she didn’t know. Maybe she was freaking out for no reason, and his hands felt so good on her arms. His touch was warm, steady, and his fingers trailed along her jaw.

“Parties are stressful,” he said softly. “Take a breath. You’ve been nonstop, and the garden, the maze we reconstructed, the yard art and focal points are all coming together. Beautiful. Chloe and Rustin are lucky to have you and your sisters helping to celebrate their love.”

She stared up at him, wonderingly, and saw the moment when his encouragement switched to awareness, and her tummy heated.

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