Page 77 of How Sweet It Is

I’m falling in love with Levi Barrett.

And I don’t know what to do with that. Because I have to leave. Ihaveto. My parents’ business is barely holding on. If Idon’t go back, it’ll fall apart. I’ve been the one holding it together since my sister left. The responsible one. The reliable one. The one who didn’t get a White House invite or a handshake from the president but who kept the books balanced, the Facebook page full of photos, and the customers coming back.

That’s who I am. Isn’t it?

Except now Levi’s arms are around me, and his hand tightens just slightly at my waist, like he doesn’t want to let go. Like maybe he’s falling too.

A whisper of a desire threads through me. A question. What happens if I come back here after the trial… to Levi?

The thought punches into me with an ache so sweet it nearly knocks me off my feet.

I want to come back and see what this could become. To dance with him again. To build something of my own, just mine, not my parents’ dreams or my sister’s shadow.

But how do I choose myself when I’ve made a life out of choosing everyone else?

CHAPTER 36

LEVI BARRETT — SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20

Sunday morning, I arrive at my bakery at my usual time, four o’clock in the morning. I spend the morning making gluten-free scones, croissants, and cupcakes for my new section. We keep selling out of them, even at the higher price, so I’m expanding it.

I expect Claire to come in fifteen minutes before we open, as usual, but she doesn’t show up. I shoot her off a quick text before I open the doors.

Are you okay?

I start to get worried when she doesn’t answer, but there’s a long line of people coming in to get my gluten-free treats, so I run the register until the crowd wanes.

I check my phone again, just to be sure I didn’t miss a text from her. My throat tightens. What’s going on? She wouldn’t leave for the trial without telling me, right? Or did something happen to her? That thought shoots terror through me.

I’m stuck behind the register making coffee and boxing cupcakes until I hear the back door open. Relief floods through me as Claire rushes in through the swinging door, putting on herapron. “I’mso sorry,” she says, breathless. “I overslept. I never do that. I don’t know what’s going on.”

She bumps me aside with her hip. “Go. I’ve got the register.”

“Hey,” I say, grabbing her hand, my chest tight. “I was worried about you.”

Her gaze softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

I pull her to me and wrap her in my arms. “Promise me you won’t leave without telling me,” I whisper.

She gasps. “I’d never do that.”

“Good. Let’s talk later.” I give her a quick kiss before I go into my kitchen and start on a fresh batch of bread.

I work all day, filling my bakery up with different kinds of pastries and breads. After we close, Claire walks into my kitchen. I’m mopping the floor, and she comes and sits down on the stool by the counter. “I have an idea.”

I stop mopping and look at her. She looks serious. “What is it?”

“What if we make this a completely gluten-free bakery?”

I wasn’t expecting that. I push the mop into the bucket to rinse it. “How would that work?”

She shrugs. “Everything you make would be gluten-free.”

I grin at her, squeezing out the mop water. “I figured out that part. Why would I want to do that?”

Claire rests her elbows on the counter. “Some people can’t eat things that have been made in a kitchen where wheat flour has been. It would increase the value of your gluten-free items.”

I push the mop across the tile. “I know they’ve been selling really well, but so have my regular pastries. Aren’t you worried I might get too specialized if I go all gluten-free?”

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