Page 30 of Bake You Mine
With the first challenge on the horizon and her daughter up early and determined to spend her Saturday at Petit Chou, Aubrey’s routine was thrown, which she hated.
“Are you sure you want to come to the shop with me? Wouldn’t you rather go to Olivia’s?”
Olivia was Daphne’s best friend, although her kid made friends easily and would probably consider most of her class her BFFs.
“Mom, I told you Olivia has to go to her cousin’s bat mitzvah in Maryland. Don’t you like it when I help?”
Aubrey swirled her coffee around the cup. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” When her daughter glared at her, she added, “Of course, I love it when you help out, little bug.”
“Are you all right there, sweetheart?” Aubrey’s father came behind her and filled her nearly empty coffee cup.
She was the direct opposite of okay. And to add insult to injury, her brain was busy replaying slow-mo images of Liam as if he starred in a scene inBaywatchor something. Jeez, she was dating herself with that reference.
Oh, damn it all, now she had a vision of Liam in a banana hammock. An eggplant hammock would be more appropriate.
Oh, shit. She had to stop this. He’d be at the shop in less than an hour.
“Aubrey?” Her father squeezed her shoulder.
“I’m okay. I was up late working out the menu for the first challenge. And thinking about how to torture Liam this morning by making him try the sweetest things in the shop.”
Not that she would. All that would do is push his palate before he was ready.
“Liam is Brody’s uncle. They’re both totally good-looking,” Daphne said.
Her father grunted. “Who are you to rate men’s appearances? I have pants older than you.”
Daphne groaned. “Grandpapa, stop. I’m a young woman. I notice things.”
Daphne was forthright and extroverted, like her father.When Aubrey had met Chris, he’d marched straight up to her and asked her out. He didn’t bat an eye when he found out her father was a Marine Officer. Chris had been a lowly private. Seeing as Brody was a thirteen-year-old boy, Daphne likely terrified him.
Aubrey was glad that her daughter hadn’t inherited her anxious, introverted ways, but it was exhausting to have a child who never said no to an invitation.
Aubrey looked at the clock on the wall and downed the rest of her coffee. “No dating until you’re thirty-five.” That earned another groan from Daphne.
“Shouldn’t we be going already? I want to help with the morning rush.”
“We could go for a road trip if you’d rather,” Aubrey’s father offered.
Daphne slammed her hand on the table. “I’m helping Mom at Petit Chou.” She shoved the rest of her croissant into her mouth and left the room. Aubrey met her father’s gaze, and they both laughed.
“She’s nothing like how I was at her age.” She’d probably been a million times worse. By the time Aubrey was Daphne’s age, she was a military brat who had developed quite the ’tude, along with the ability to keep people at a distance.
“Yeah, right.” He collected her empty coffee cup and left the room, chuckling.
She half expected Liam to no-show. After all, she was making him get up earlier than usual and forcing him to eat sweets, something he detested. Yet he stood at Petit Chou’s back door at 5:55, which was impressive for a man who’d likely had a far more interesting Friday night than her.
After her dinner at Elevation, she’d fallen asleep on thecouch next to her dad while they watched Ken Burns’sThe Warfor the thousandth time.
More delicious than anything in her display case, Liam turned up with his longish dark hair fully bed-headed. Then there were the jeans, artfully torn, and the tight T-shirt advertising some band she’d never heard of.
She should have been interested in men with a flush 401(k) who wore Crocs and cargo shorts, not this guy, younger than her, who looked like he should be playing rhythm guitar in an indie band.
He casually rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. “Reporting for torture, Ms. Dennison.”
Aubrey snapped into focus. She was in a battle with Liam for the same prize. Did Napoleon make friends with the British at Waterloo? No. He also didn’t fare well in that battle, so maybe that wasn’t the best example.
She murmured, “Keep it together, dumbass,” under her breath before stepping toward him. “Ah, good thing, because I have a chocolate cake in the oven.”
