Page 51 of Half Baked

“What if you don’t give her money, but volunteer to help? Be staff there. She could be open longer and serve more with a second set of hands around. Like she focuses on baking, and you do everything else,” Beckett offers.

“That’s not bad.” I nod. “I think that would at least get her to keep the conversation open about me helping. If I go in offering money first, she won’t hear of it.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Tripp agrees. “We already know she doesn’t just like you for your money.” He laughs and exchanges a look with Beckett. “Because she hasn’t really ever seemed to like you to begin with.”

“Wicked helpful, thank you,” I mutter.

He shrugs, taking a long drink before saying, “Hey, I have a question related to women. Do either of you have any knowledge on picking out engagement rings?”

“You’re proposing?” Beckett grins. “Congrats, man!”

“This is huge!” I jump up and cross the garage to clasp his shoulder. “Congrats.” As we shake hands, I add, “But we wouldn’t be the ones to ask about that.”

“Talk to her friends,” Beckett suggests. “Stevie can probably tell you the exact thing Ivy will want.”

Tripp drags his hand along his jaw. “You don’t think they’ll end up telling Ivy? They’re all really close.”

“Not with something like this.” I shake my head. “I think that’s a good idea. Ask the girls.”

“Maybe you can use that advice, too, actually,” Tripp points out. “If anyone is going to know how to get Poppy to come around, it would be them.”

“I can text Stevie?” Beckett offers.

“No, I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her finances with people. This stays between us, I’ll try the volunteeringangle.” I already want to spend all my time with her so this could turn out to be a great situation.

I just need to get Poppy on board.

Chapter 22

Hayden

Ireceived clear instructions to meet Poppy at the bakery for our next lesson. She had added something in there, too, about how she tried to return the mixer, and the company had a strict no return policy. She decided we might as well get our use out of it if it’s staying.

Dodging the other people out walking the wharf, I approach her shop earlier than planned. She’s still open, and her sky blue front door is propped open with a potted plant today. The bright green leaves look good—welcoming—with the white siding and blue door.

Before stepping inside and getting her attention, I lean on the rail of the wharf and watch her through the window. She’s focusing intensely on piping tiny little flowers on a cake out front. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and today she has no apron covering light denim shorts and a tank top that looks as if it has a tiny pattern all over it. I could watch her focus on something she loves all day, it would never get old.

But as if she senses that she’s being watched, her head snaps up, her eyes settling on me. Busted. I push off the rail and cross the wharf, stepping in through the propped open door.

“Were you just watching me work?” She folds her arms across her chest and narrows her eyes.

“I was.”

“Why?”

I come around behind the counter and close the distance between us. Looking into those magnificent, scowling eyes, I smile down at her. “Because it’s the most beautiful sight in the world,” I reply with unwavering certainty.

The scowl on her face softens, her lips parting as a quiet sigh escapes her. I could kiss her right now. I think she’d let me, because I think she might even want me to. And the idea of Poppy wanting me is enough to send my heart soaring.

Slipping a finger under her chin, I tilt it towards me and lean down until there are only inches between us. She doesn’t pull away, instead she loops her hands around the back of my neck, holding me to her.

“Hayden,” she whispers.

“Yes, Pop?”

My heart is thundering in my chest with anticipation, and every inch of me feels like a live wire. This is it.

“There are customers coming in.”

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