Page 45 of Half Baked

My heart stumbles at the mention of her name. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“After I docked, I was headed back here from the harbor and ran into her. She was out on the wharf watching the drills. But the Poppy I know doesn’t usually acknowledge your presence if she can help it.”

“Exactly, she was probably just in her bakery which ison the wharf.I can’t imagine she’d be out there in the crowd.”

Beckett shakes his head. “That girl was front and center. Then she practically chased me down to ask why you jump out ofthe helicopter instead of, and I quote,using the rope like a sane person would. Then she muttered something about how dumb it is that you thinkshe’sthe one that needs to be more careful.”

The smile that fills my face is involuntary. Dragging my hand through my hair, I look down at the table and absorb his words. There’s no doubt every guy in this room is going to have something to say about my reaction, but I simply do not care. She was worried about me today. And not that I ever want her to feel anything other than joy, but it gives me hope that I’m making progress.

“Man, you’ve got it bad,” Jamie snorts.

“You have no idea,” Tripp confirms on my behalf. I don’t bother denying it, it’s painfully true. Always has been when it comes to Poppy. But maybe this is more than one sided. It has to be.

Chapter 20

Poppy

“Ihave a delivery for you, ma’am.”

A man in a navy uniform stands in the doorway with a box the size of me on a dolly. I blink back at him, surveying the delivery. I’d love to order a number of things, but my bank account disagrees. “I didn’t order anything.”

He crosses the lobby and hands me an invoice with Seaside Bakehouse listed as the recipient. I scan it quickly to find all my information accurate. Whatever this is, it was intended for me. “It doesn’t say who paid for this.”

“I don’t get that information. They just tell me where to take it.” He points to the back kitchen and asks, “In there?”

“Wait, what is it?” I scan the invoice again, this time looking at the item line. “A mixer?”

“If that’s what it says, ma’am. There’s a haul away order too. I’m guessing this goes where the old one is?”

I stay in my place behind the display counter until he pushes the dolly through to the back. Then, close on his heels I follow into the kitchen. I’m unsure about who would send me this, maybe the show if I mentioned it not working. But I really don’t think I’ve said a thing around Tara. In fact, I’ve gone out of my way to downplay my financial concerns.

“This right here?” he points to my old mixer.

“Yes, that would be what is switched out but… what if this is a mistake? If it wasn’t meant for me, will you have to take the new one back?”

“Can’t return it after delivery. It’s all yours. And I’m not sure who would get that much information wrong.”

This delivery man is teetering on becoming therapeutic for my worries. He’s right, of course. And I need to leave it at that. I stand awkwardly in the doorway when a family enters through the front, giving me a chance to excuse myself and help the customers.

By the time I send them on their way with a box of s’mores brownie cupcakes, he’s got my old mixer on his dolly and is coming back around front. “Enjoy,” he offers on his way out. I wait until he’s past my front windows and then rush back into the kitchen to see my new appliance.

It’s sitting there shining like a perfectly polished work of art in the center of the room. This isn’t just a new version of my last one. It’s a top of the line planetary mixer, the best on the market for my needs. The amount of money it costs, nearing ten thousand dollars, makes this all the more mysterious. The girls know about my struggles, but even if they all pitched in together it wouldn’t be reasonable for them to select this one.

I walk in a circle around the new appliance, studying its pristine finish. This makes no sense, but I’m out of time to figure it out. I need to get ready to shoot the next episode of Small Town Table. Everyone will be here in just half an hour, and I am far from prepared.

“It looks like our ice cream is now frozen.” I peer up from the ice cream maker towards the oven. “And with seconds to spare.”

“You have good timing,” Hayden comments as the buzzer sounds. He pulls the oven door open and carefully withdraws the cobbler. Sliding the baking dish in front of me on the prep table, he takes a step closer until our bodies are brushing against one another. This is how it’s been the whole episode, little to no space between us as we work. And I’m finding it more enjoyable than the first episode.

“So, what would your grandmother do to finish this off?” he asks me. That isn’t on the script. I hesitate, looking from him over to Tara. If she notices that he’s deviating, she doesn’t seem to mind. “This is your grandmother’s recipe, right?” he prompts again.

“It is, she taught me to make it with fresh peaches from our home orchard,” I reply, flashing Hayden a grateful smile. “Which these are.”

“And it was this recipe that got your grandfather to propose on the spot, rumor has it.”

I laugh, scooping the freshly made ice cream atop the cobbler. Hayden is leaning onto the prep table beside me, his lips inches from my hair. For some reason, talking about love right now is causing a stir within me. I gulp before responding.

“It was love at first bite.”

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