Chapter Eleven

Adaline’s phone had no less than forty notifications the following morning after she’d slid her first attempt at a practice wedding cake into the oven at Cherry on Top.

She’d needed to clear her head after Fuzzy’s visit to the senior center yesterday afternoon. The crazy Christmas gift...the big, fat lie...

The kiss.

“It wasn’t real,” she said out loud, because she needed the reminder. Fuzzy, sprawled across his cupcake bed, cracked an eyelid open.

He didn’t seem convinced. Neither did Adaline’s hormonal system, apparently, because her body definitely had feelings about that kiss. It still did. Every time she thought about it, her limbs went languid, her heart went wild, and her head filled with ridiculous visions of slow dancing with Jace at Ford’s wedding and what he might look like when he traded his flannel, Brawny-paper-towel-guy uniform for a tuxedo. When her imagination really went wild and she accidentally pictured herself catching Maple’s bridal bouquet, she knew she had to do something to stop those dangerous ideas right in their tracks.

So she’d tuned out the outside world the only way she knew how—by putting her phone on do-not-disturb and hiding away in her kitchen. Baking never failed her. It always took her back to the innocent days of rolling out dough on Gram’s butcher-block counter, balanced on a step stool so she could reach. She still used the same old wooden rolling pin, dusted with generations of flour, love and tender care. With her hands in a fresh batch of dough and flour in her hair, Adaline could forget everything else. Her world narrowed to a pinprick of flaky pie crust, so buttery and perfect that it melted on her tongue. Today was all about cake, though. With the wedding less than two weeks away, she didn’t have much time. Granted, Adaline had made dozens of wedding cakes over the years. Maybe even hundreds. But this one was for her brother and her best friend. Not only did it need to be perfect, but it also had to be perfectly unique. Like nothing she’d ever baked before.

Hence the first of what would no doubt be several practice cakes.

Once the cake was sitting on the middle rack of the preheated oven and Adaline had meticulously wiped down her work surface, preparing for the busy day ahead at the bakery, she finally turned her attention to her phone. The instant she turned off its do-not-disturb setting, the tiny screen lit up like Christmas tree.

Missed call notifications popped up left and right, followed by a string of text messages. There were a handful from customers inquiring about special orders, but the vast majority were urgent missives from the Comfort Paws girls, liberally sprinkled with shocked-face emojis and exclamation points.

Adaline stared at her phone. All three of her closest friends had independently said the exact same thing. So had Gram. Even Mr. Martin had said it, and that man wasn’t exactly prone to sharing his feelings.

I knew it!

Why did everyone keep saying that? There was nothing to know. Nothing real, anyway.

Just thinking about responding to all these calls and texts was giving Adaline anxiety. She had no idea what to say. When Jace jumped in to save her, she hadn’t considered how far-reaching the implications of a fake relationship would be. Was she really supposed to lie to her friends now? She’d only wanted to somehow get out of the matchmaking thing without hurting Gram’s feelings, and now the entire town was convinced she was on the road to becoming Mrs. Christmas Tree Farm.

On the plus side, it appeared as if no one needed convincing. And that was a very good thing, given Adaline’s terrible skills in the fibbing department.

“And here I thought honesty was a desirable personality trait.” Adaline placed her phone face down on the counter.

Snug in his nook, Fuzzy snored away, unbothered. Adaline had never envied a dog so much in her life. She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. How was she going to get out of this mess?

Did she even want to get out of it?

Of course she did. Pretend relationships belonged in rom-com movies and romance novels, not real life. She’d simply have to talk to Jace and explain why this was an awful idea, then she’d swallow her pride, confess and move on with her life. Maybe she’d eventually work her way back onto Santa’s nice list. All it would take would be disappointing her Gram and public humiliation on a massive scale.

She groaned again just as the bells on the bakery’s front door chimed, signaling a new customer.

Adaline’s head snapped up. “Welcome to Cherry on Top. I’ll be right there.”

She tightened the knot on her cherry-print apron as she dashed from the kitchen to the front counter and came to an abrupt stop when her gaze landed on Maple.

“Oh.” A nervous little jolt skittered up Adaline’s spine. She felt like she had a sign on her forehead that said liar, liar, pants on fire. “Hi.”

“‘Oh, hi?’ That’s all you have to say?” Maple slung her Kate Spade handbag on one of the barstools and planted her hands on her hips. Her purse looked exactly like a pizza box and was covered in sequins. You could take the girl out of New York, but you couldn’t take New York out of the girl, apparently. “I’ve been texting and calling all morning. When I didn’t hear back from you, I decided I should probably drop by on my way to the pet clinic.”

She made her sudden appearance sound like a casual drop-in, but Adaline knew better. Maple was being nosy—in a best friend sort of way, of course. And Adaline couldn’t blame her one bit. If the situation was reversed, she would’ve done the same.

Or worse. Adaline had never been known for her restraint. But it was almost funny to see Maple stooping to her level.

“But Cherry on Top isn’t on your way to the pet clinic. Your house is literally right next door to your office,” Adaline said, arching a single eyebrow.

Maple sighed. She was busted, and she knew it. “Fine. I’m here for the scoop. I’m dying to know what happened with you and Jace. It’s not like you to be so mysterious. You’re usually such an open book.”

“As in, I usually blurt out whatever is on my mind, regardless of the consequences?”

Maple held her thumb and pointer finger a fraction of an inch apart. “A teensy bit, yes.”

Kind of like she’d done when she’d marched across the town square and accused Jace of stealing the space out from under her.

He’d been a decent sport about it, though. He’d even brought her the Christmas tree as a peace offering and stayed to help her decorate it. Not many people would’ve been willing to compromise the way he had, especially after how she’d acted. As fake boyfriends went, he wasn’t the worst in the world.

“I didn’t mean to keep anything from you, I promise.” Adaline took a deep breath. She was going to do it. She was going to just tell Maple the truth and get everything off her chest. Maple was the smartest person Adaline knew—even smarter than Ford, which he’d willingly admitted on more than one occasion. She could help Adaline figure out how to fix this entire mess. “In fact, there’s something I need—”

“Hold that thought for just a sec.” Maple’s nose twitched. “What is that amazing smell? Is something in the oven?”

“The cake!” In her fit of self-absorbed angst, Adaline had forgotten all about it. She sprinted toward the kitchen in such a rush that Fuzzy barked in alarm. “Please don’t be burned, please don’t be burned, please don’t be burned...”

Maple caught up with her just as she reached into the oven with a pair of pot holders and carefully removed the cake.

She set it on the counter and marveled at its golden color. It was a perfect bake, and Maple was right. It smelled divine. “Oh, thank goodness. This is a new recipe I’m experimenting with, and I got it out just in the nick of time.”

“Lots of drama around here this morning.” Maple gave her a playful hip bump. “What’s the deal with this cake? Is it a special order?”

Adaline grinned as she waved her pot holders over the cake to cool it. “Actually, it’s my first practice bake for your wedding cake. I’m testing recipes for the sponge.”

Maple gasped. “Really? Oh my gosh, this is so exciting. But why are you baking practice cakes? Your wedding cakes are always sublime. You could probably make one in your sleep.”

“I wanted to do something special for you and Ford, though. I thought it might be fun to try and recreate the cake that Gram and Gramps had at their wedding.” Adaline reached for the file folder where she’d tucked the photos she’d copied from the wedding album she’d borrowed from Gram the other day. “You won’t believe how gorgeous that cake was. It’s in a vintage style called Lambeth, frosted with royal icing in lots of decorative swags and over-piping. Lambeth cakes were hugely popular in the 1930s, and they’ve been making a comeback.”

Adaline’s Instagram feed was full of them. Scrolling through reels and photos of vintage cakes and beautifully latticed pies was her favorite way to unwind and get new ideas for the bakery. She’d remembered seeing photographs of Gram’s wedding cake years ago, but couldn’t quite picture it in her mind. When she’d found a close-up of the heart-shaped cake in the wedding album, she knew she’d struck gold.

In all, the album had contained four pictures of the cake, shot from various angles. She’d scanned and printed out copies of all of them, and now she spread them on the counter for Maple’s approval.

The cake featured two heart-shaped tiers stacked atop one another with elaborate, retro, Lambeth-style piping and topped with a halo of cherries. She just hoped Maple loved it as much as she did.

“Oh, wow,” said Maple, awestruck. “That might be the most beautiful cake I’ve ever seen.”

Adaline’s heart swelled. She knew this was a great idea...she just hoped she could pull it off to perfection. “I’m going to see if Belle can help me find Gram’s wedding announcement in the newspaper archives at the public library. Since Gram was such an avid baker, I’m pretty sure the announcement featured a full description of the cake, including the flavors. All I know right now is that the sponge cake was cherry vanilla.”

“You’re going to try and replicate the exact recipe too?” Maple’s eyes glittered. She was going to be such a lovely bride. “I love everything about this.”

“I was hoping that if I get the cake just right, it might bring back some special memories for Gram. Maybe make her more a part of things, you know? She’s always been so special to Ford and me, and of course she’ll be there, but...”

Adaline’s throat closed up tight. But is it silly to hope a simple slice of cake could make Gram feel like herself again?

Maple reached to squeeze her hand. “Things are changing. I know. That’s one of the reasons why we decided to move up the wedding. You don’t need to explain. I totally get it.”

Adaline breathed a little easier. “Are you sure you like this idea? I’m fully aware this is your special day, but I thought it might be nice for the cake to have a family connection. If you’d rather have something else—”

Maple shook her head. “Absolutely not. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect wedding cake. I’m blown away, hon. This is so, so special. It makes me feel like I’m really and truly going to be part of your family.”

Adaline wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. Maple had a complicated relationship with her adoptive parents, and she’d never gotten the chance to know her birth father, who’d passed away right before she moved to Bluebonnet. Ford meant the world to her, but so did being part of their family.

“We’re sisters now, remember?” Adaline whispered.

“Sisters.” Maple gave her a watery smile as the hug ended. “Look at me. You’ve gone and made me cry.”

“Happy tears, I hope,” Adaline said.

Maple sniffed. “The happiest. Oh, but wait. You were going to tell me something a minute ago. About Jace, I think. What was it?”

Adaline’s stomach churned.

Oh, nothing important...just that I’m bringing a near stranger to your wedding and making a mockery of your vows by pretending he’s the love of my life.

She couldn’t do it. Maple’s wedding day was sacred. There was no way she could admit that her arrangement with Jace was a lie. They were already in too deep. She’d gone and kissed the man in the biggest gossip hot spot in town. There was no going back.

If she tried to get out of it now, she’d hurt people. Not just Gram, but Maple and Ford too. Maybe even Jace’s grinchy uncle Gus, although there was no telling what was going on there. She was just going to have to stick with the pretense and act like she was in love.

“Nothing important. Just that you were right—Jace is wonderful,” she said and her internal lie detector, which had been going berserk for the past twenty-four hours, didn’t budge an inch.

“For the record, I think you two are perfect together. He gets you, Adaline. It’s so obvious,” Maple said, because she was a bride and all brides could see were hearts and flowers. It was the only explanation that made sense.

“I think you might be right,” Adaline lied, ignoring the way the words flowed so easily from the tip of her tongue.

Just keep on pretending. It’s the only way not to break a few hearts. She kept her eyes glued to the freshly baked cake so Adaline wouldn’t notice that she was on the verge of tears. But what about mine?

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Uncle Gus’s gaze fixed on Jace in the mirror hanging above the bathroom in room 212.

Today was haircut day, as decreed by Jace, and he was doing the honors himself with a comb and an electric shaver he’d bought at the drug store on Main Street. Heaven forbid Gus actually leave the building and get a trim at the barber shop around the corner from the town square where he’d always taken Jace when he was a kid. Jace loved that old barber shop. It had a striped pole out front, padded chairs that swiveled a full 360 degrees and rows of jars that held combs floating in blue disinfectant. A fishbowl full of root beer–flavored candy sticks sat beside the cash register—a hulking, antique brass number that looked like it came straight of the Smithsonian, complete with a hand crank and pushdown keys.

Getting his hair cut there had always felt like stepping back in time. Jace would’ve bet money that not one thing in the place had changed since he was there last. Alas, he wouldn’t know, because Gus had dug his feet in and refused to let Jace take him anywhere.

“Adaline is working at her bakery this morning,” Jace said, running the trimmer along Gus’s sideburns. The haircut had been more along the lines of a full makeover than a trim. He knew his uncle was sick, but he couldn’t just let the man give up when life kept going on around him.

Plus, he figured that once Uncle Gus looked a little better, he’d probably feel better too. Next up after the haircut was getting him to wear something other than threadbare dress socks paired with a hospital gown. Jace hadn’t broached the subject of his clothes yet. Baby steps and all that.

“So she and that dog aren’t going to turn up out of nowhere today?” Gus scowled, but Jace wasn’t buying the cranky-pants act.

“No, but I think they’ll be back tomorrow for their regular visit.” Jace grinned at his uncle in the mirror. “I’ll tell her you were asking about her and Fuzzy, though. That will probably make her day.”

“I remember the schedule around here. I just don’t want her showing up out of the blue all the time now that you two are hot and heavy.”

Jace lifted his brows. “Would that really be so bad?”

Not that Jace would ever ask or expect Adaline to go out of her way to spend time with his uncle. He wouldn’t inflict that kind of misery on her even if they truly were “hot and heavy,” which they weren’t.

He just didn’t like Gus complaining about Adaline. There was no valid reason for it, and it rubbed him entirely the wrong way.

“That grandmother of hers keeps coming around here now.” Gus bobbed to the side in an effort to avoid the electric shaver, but Jace was undaunted. “First she wanted me to go to bingo. Then it was lunch. Make sure you close the door when you leave so she doesn’t try to drag me to the dining room for dinner.”

“I think it’s nice that she’s trying to include you in the activities around this place. You should try it.” Jace pointed at him with the comb. “You might even like it.”

“The grandmother is as nutty as a fruitcake. She dotes on that stuffed dog like it’s real, and she inserts herself into everyone’s business. She’s impossible to ignore.”

Sounds about right. Like grandmother, like granddaughter.

“Of all the women in the world, you had to go and choose the dog lady.” Gus shook his head, but the venom had drained out of his tone. If Jace didn’t know better, he might have mistook his uncle’s unfocused gaze and the softening of his expression for nostalgia.

“Anything you want to share with me, Uncle Gus?” he asked, hoping for a different answer than the usual outright dismissal.

Just this once, tell me something...

Tell me something real.

Gus’s eyes met his in the mirror, and for a second, Jace caught sight of a younger man in his uncle’s eyes—a man who’d drop by for a shave at the barber shop on lazy Saturday afternoons, a man who’d show up for church on Sunday mornings and always toss a few bills into the collection plate, a man who’d stop and pet a dog that passed him on the sidewalk.

A man who loved Christmas.

Then Gus sighed and looked away, and that ghost of a man disappeared again as if he’d never really existed.

“No, son. I don’t,” Uncle Gus said quietly.

So Jace flicked the electric shaver back on and did his best to tamp down the familiar disappointment that tied itself into a knot deep in his belly.

Baby steps, he reminded himself. Baby steps.