Page 8 of Rival Hearts
Except for when Caleb is around.
“I'm just calling it like I see it,” Mandy says, plucking one of the piping bags from the table to help me frost the remaining dozens of cupcakes I have left.
“You didn't see anything,” I point out.
“I may not have been a witness to this almost kiss, but I've seen the way Caleb looks at you when he doesn't think you'll notice.”
“Oh, and you're just now telling me about this?” What are we? Rapunzel and Flynn Rider from Tangled?
Okay, but that would actually be awesome.
“I didn't think it mattered because there was no way in hell you were giving him a chance. He's your archnemesis, remember?” She uses air quotes this time. “But he does tend to stare whenever you're around. I think you've kept this feud going for longer than he would have, and he’s just along for the ride.”
“Geez, you're full of revelations today, aren't you?”
“I had therapy this morning.” She winks right as Keely comes back asking for some help up front.
“Be there in a sec!” Mandy heads that way with one last parting shot. “For the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with liking Caleb. Aside from the whole muffin thing—” she grins “—he's actually a good guy, and he hasn't really done anything to trash your business.”
She has a point.
The chain restaurant has done more damage in the past six months than Caleb ever did in three years. “Thanks for the chat. Now go help Keely.”
“Aye aye, boss.” Mandy salutes me, then disappears through the swinging door separating the kitchen and the front.
There's nothing wrong with you liking Caleb. That’s what she said, but I'm not sure I believe it. Not sure I'm ready to pull a one-eighty on everything I've thought for the past few years.
“Once I get through this competition,” I tell myself. “I'll deal with whatever I'm feeling.
Until then, I've got a contest to win.
Starting with tonight’s event: Pastry Palooza.
CHAPTER SIX
CALEB
After adding the customer opinion to the votes of the three judges from McCoy Security, James announced Buttercream Dreams as the winner of Pastry Palooza half an hour ago, so there’s been a nonstop line of congratulations to Sierra.
Her victory isn’t a total surprise, considering I’m well aware of how much everyone loves her baking. Hell, I’m part of that crowd myself—not that I’d ever tell her, at least not while we’re in the midst of a competition.
But I’m not bitter about her win, and with the chaos of the day finally winding down, it’s time to enact my hastily cobbled together plan. Sierra and I have been working nonstop for The Cafe Clash, so I figure we’re owed a little bit of a reprieve.
Especially after our almost kiss.
It was the perfect hammer to shatter the flimsy walls containing my attraction. Now it's impossible to keep my feelings in check. Sierra is business smart and curvy with a sassy sense of humor. How the hell am I supposed to resist?
The answer is I’m not.
“Come on, let's get out of here.” I tug on her arm after the last of the stragglers disappear.
“Yeah, I should get back to perfecting my Suitor’s Crossing inspired latte,” she says, her eyes glued to the screen of her phone. “Then post about the Brew Battle—”
“On the town’s socials. I know, I know. But they can wait. Come on.”
Sierra reluctantly follows me outside to my Jeep Cherokee. It’s 6:30 PM on a Wednesday, so Main Street is practically deserted except for the spaces in front of Brewed and Daffodil’s—a local restaurant that eschews the usual 5 PM closing time of its neighbors. Turning into Suitor’s Crossing’s lone parking garage, a three-story concrete structure next to the bank, we slowly ascend the spiral of parkings spots until we reach the top.
“Your idea for a break is hanging out in a parking garage?” A bubble of laughter fills the vehicle as Sierra searches for the punchline. She twists in her seat, surveying the empty square of concrete around us.