Page 72 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
The usual forced excitement in the row was awkward with only three people, and Laurin couldn’t help but see that even though Candace was laughing and saying how much she loved gingerbread, the space between her brows was heavily creased. She wasn’t prepared for this.
Except she was. She’d baked gingerbread before for the bake-off. Laurin couldn’t remember what the season was, but she’d made a stuffed animal. A piñata? A Trojan horse? A cookie creature filled with sprinkles. She hadn’t won the challenge with it, but she’d gotten high marks. Tomorrow, when everything was back to normal, ideally a new normal with her in his arms, he’d remember everything. For now, he only remembered the important things: she could make gingerbread, and she could make it well.
So why was she stressing so much?
Her words came back to him.I’m going to lose today.
His stomach sank. Sure, he’d thought about how things were going to play out here. He’d considered the fact that this was not a great situation for their new and admittedly unstable-at-best relationship, especially with how stubborn she was being. He needed to win. She understood that.
Or did she?
He’d hoped she’d eventually respond to his texts, even though he’d fallen into the rhythm of accepting that she wouldn’t. There was a perverse pleasure he’d started to glean from it — a joy that would have likely been better without Manon’s interference, but she had prevented inappropriate photographs from happening, so that was for the best — in telling her about his days and not expecting anything in return. He wasn’t always the most selfless person. There’d been some catharsis to it.
But somehow, it hadn’t crossed his mind how badly they both needed this. Anyone looking in from the outside would have a good argument for why Candace needed it more, in fact, but the future Laurin envisioned for her negated that. He knew she didn’t share that vision with him, though, so in her mind, she absolutely needed that money.
Would Candace throw the competition anyway? Is that what she’d meant? Laurin’s stomach went queasy at the thought. He didn’t want that. He wanted a challenge. And he wanted Candace to be proud of whatever she made.
Her grim expression now made him second-guess that. As much as it pained him to think it, Candace would be happy if she were preparing to sacrifice herself. No, she thought she needed to win but was going to lose because her confidence was already shot.
Because he’d shaken her. Because he’d been more selfish than he’d ever been in his life and had been so hot in pursuit of her that he hadn’t thought about how his personal quest would shake her professionally.
She was going to lose because of him, and that was unacceptable.
He had to win. His home and his family depended on it.
She had to win, too. For reasons every bit as important.
Shit.
A place that means a lot to you.
There needed to be at least three types of edible decorations, three types of icing, and three types of baked goods. Candace didn’t have a problem with any of that. Gingerbread, of course, with a cake for the structure to stand on and a cookie of some sort for decoration. She’d need royal icing to glue it together, fudge to ice the ground or a meringue if she wanted snow, and a buttercream for details. Edible decorations would come to her as she planned it, no stress there.
Except she didn’t know whatitwas.
Historically, these personal challenges always felt like her biggest handicap. She didn’t think her weak grasp on the meaning behind her pieces actually hindered her in the judging, but nothing made her more stressed and her exchanges with the judges more awkward than required personal elements. And this time?
Her bakery was gone. The idea of rebuilding it out of gingerbread made her nauseous. She lived in a crappy apartment, a place she’d moved into expecting to be in a better spot by the end of the lease, but now she was about to sign it a third time. Her childhood home would have been an impressive build, but she’d have to lie through her teeth about any happymemories there. Her college had some nice buildings, but how lame would that have been?
She wasn’t going to win. She wasn’t going to have a good story.
But she could do something for herself, something she could be proud of. Something that had a river running through it, because why not? It had nothing to do with gingerbread, but that was okay.
A waterfall. Going over a little cabin. It didn’t need to be a real place, after all, not if she wasn’t hoping to win. It didn’t need to be a place she’d ever been. It could be an idea of what would have meant a lot to her.
She sketched a ramshackle cabin atop a hill of cake layers, a trifle moat at the base, a lake behind the cabin so a waterfall could run off the roof. Tall trees surrounding it.
They could be made of pretzel.
And a tuft of cotton candy for smoke rising from the chimney. She’d lose a ton of points for going light on gingerbread, but it would be pretty. She smiled and laughed softly as she added a squirrel on the roof. She didn’t even know what she’d make it out of, but that was okay. She probably wouldn’t even finish the stupid thing.
Her eyes strayed from her sketch as she chuckled, only to find Laurin staring right back at her. He was already done with his sketch, waiting for Candace and Patty to signal they were done as well. He opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and looked back down at his paper with a scowl deeply drawn on his face. A second later, he looked back up and mouthed, “You got this.”
She shook her head, but she smiled as she did so. Her sketch looked okay only because the elements were rugged and natural. Her hand shook the entire time, and as soon as he was talking again, she was sure her heart would be pounding in her ears.
Eating bonbons. What had that meant? Uggh. She was honest with herself. A part of her wanted to curl up in a ball on Laurin’s lap and promise she’d never run away again if only he promised not to let her go, but promises weren’t forever. The only forever Candace had was herself.
She was going to lose the challenge, but she’d gotten decent prize money for making it this far, and she’d proved she could keep herself under control.
