Page 54 of Frosting and Flames

All I can think of while eating it is Rachel and her cinnamon scent. Of her unexpectedly pressing her lips to mine on her front porch yesterday, so quick I didn’t have time to react. Wishing like hell I’d known she’d do that so I could enjoy it more.

“Those Blackwell girls know what they’re doing.”

For a moment, I’m afraid I said something aloud about Rachel kissing me before I realize she’s referencing the cinnamon rolls.

“Everything I’ve tried from there is incredible,” I agree.

She eyes me more carefully than I like. “Are things good with you and them? You know, since…”

“All good between us,” I tell her, leaving it at that. It had taken me years before I recognized her questions as fishing for gossip rather than mere curiosity. She’s the kind of woman who knows everything about everyone—sometimes before they know it themselves. I don’t want to be her topic of the week.

“It’s just that I saw Rachel working with you at the pancake breakfast.”

I nod, finishing up the last of the cinnamon roll as Mark joins us in the house. “She’s helping me with fundraising for the fire station.”

Mark tilts his head in a questioning way at me, as if it’s news to him. I have no idea what Chief has told everyone about it.

“We have to get going back,” he says, hitching a thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

I give Dolly a last pet, forgetting her fur is still slathered in olive oil, and grab a napkin off the table to wipe my hand. “Let us know if this one gets up to any more mischief.”

Mrs. Montour laughs lightly and picks up the dog to hug to her chest, oil be damned. “Oh, I will. Thanks again.”

We leave and on the ride back, Mark says, “You’re taking over for Henry with the fundraising?”

“Chief voluntold me.” I like how Rachel had described it that way.

He nods. “Better you than me. Or anyone else, really. Especially Daniel.”

We both grimace. The guy had accidentally set off the fire alarm at the station the other day while trying to fix something minor.

“What’s our next fundraiser, then?” he asks.

“A chili cookoff.”

“Oh, that actually sounds cool. Henry never did anything like that.”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be good.” At least, I hope. Half of me is afraid it’ll be completely shit, until I remember Rachel has a plan. We’d gone over it together at my house while we ate the chili and cornbread, which had turned out pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.

Thank God for that, because I’d be up a creek without a paddle at this fundraiser, otherwise. But even more than being able to cook chili, thank God I’d gotten me and Rachel back on even footing after what happened on her front porch. I could sense she was flustered by what she’d done, even if it was part of the act.

And even if I wish it hadn’t been acting at all.

When we return to the station, Chief asks how it went, declining to go on the call himself, and Mark rolls his eyes.

“That damn Yorkie must have walked under ten ladders in a row for the kind of luck it has. But good news is that Nick told me about the chili cookoff.” He rubs his hand together enticingly. “Looking forward to that.”

He heads off to fill out the incident report for the call and Chief turns to me. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. After Henry’s lack of… interest in the pancake breakfast, I’d like you to submit a plan for everything that’ll happen.” He mutters, as an aside, “Still can’t believe he didn’t get any meat. A breakfast without sausage or bacon…” He shakes his head.

Wow, I had no idea that upset him so much. Duly noted if we ever do something like that again.

“Yeah, me and Rachel put together a plan.”

He looks at me expectantly. “Well?”

Oh, he wants to hear it now? I pat my pockets, as if the plan is magically in there. “Uh, Rachel has it.” She’s the one who’s been writing down all the notes.

He rubs at his jaw. “Can she stop by sometime soon so we can talk it over?”

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