22. CHAPTER 22
Zuri
My uneven breathing whispers into the silent kitchen as I lean in, my eyes narrowing. Morgan surrendered the kitchen to me—the fleeing chef likely feared repercussions from any association with my task. Now, it’s just me and Serafina who flew in with Jeremy’s boss this morning. She insisted on assisting, claiming kitchen-support experience from helping her best friend. I squeeze more blue icing from the piping bag.
“It’s beautiful.” Serafina sighs dreamily. “I can’t believe how you’re crafting the illusion of a waterfall cascading down the three-tiered cake.” She nudges in a fondant rock at its base.
Am I succeeding? Since the two of us smoothly iced it with white fondant earlier, I’m now finishing the artistic aspects. The spacious kitchen island offers ample room for maneuvering as we add the final touches and edible decorations. An itch tampers with my concentration, demanding the use of my already busy hands. I straighten, place the piping bag on the plate, then rub my wrist against the nagging sensation on my forehead.
Serafina steps away and rubs her back. “Hard to believe it’s four twenty already.”
“You should sit.” I nod toward a stool without mentioning the obvious—the poor girl has been on her feet for hours, and she’s pregnant. Still so much to do. My gaze sweeps the chaos strewn across the counters. Powdered sugar dusts one area. Bags of sugar, remnants of butter and marzipan, and bottles of vanilla and almond extracts stand among the various baking tools we’d bought. Three hand mixers each rest in their own unwashed mixing bowls, having done their duty crafting the separate frostings and fillings. I could have washed them in between, but I also wanted backup mixers should one of them break or for whatever reason not work.
“Go rest, Serafina. I’m almost done, and I’ll clean the mess before the Kresses and their relatives return from the rehearsal dinner.”
Last night, on our drive to the grocery market, I called Lexi to send me the video she recorded while I made a practice wedding cake after that class. I also had her text me the recipe from my Rolodex since I hadn’t posted the cake or the video on my blog.
“I wish you’d made my wedding cake.” Serafina slumps against the counter rather than leave. “You’re an amazing chef. The Kresses are blessed to have you here, and it’s been wonderful to see Jeremy as happy as he is around you.”
Is that true? “We had fun last night.” I smile at the memory. “Jeremy not only helped me shop but also stayed in the kitchen as we baked the three tiers. He even made me laugh in our rush to get the cakes made to perfection.”
We finished the task well after midnight, and I slept in his childhood bedroom. Since Sonya’s occupying Gavin’s old bedroom, Jeremy slept in one of the vacant guest rooms. Her pursuit of Jeremy slowed since the ski area, which might have something to do with my little tantrum. Plus, Sara’s been less invested in pushing them together. Perhaps she’s just overshadowed by the wedding preparations, or maybe she fears making me mad before I finish the cake.
I grit my teeth against an itch under my hair cap, a necessary discomfort to prevent any stray hairs from marooning themselves in the cake. Earlier today, Hope and her friends helped acquire the decorations. But, while I had lots of helpers, I encouraged everyone not to miss the rehearsal dinner. I’m capable of managing this final task alone. Besides, part of me would have preferred to work solo at this phase, so if anything went wrong, I could fix it by myself. Of course, I wouldn’t mention this to Jeremy’s boss’s wife, who’s starting to feel like a friend. In truth, her presence has saved me hours. She’s been incredibly supportive, and her energy and encouragement have really bolstered me.
I reach for the piping bag and lean in again to finish my waterfall before standing back to assess the cake. Moving from one side to the other, I survey the playful cascade accented with ripples and frosty edges to look like movement. My chest expands at the decent creation. “I’m no artist, but this turned out pretty good.”
“As a kindergarten teacher, I can’t promise I’m the best judge of art.” Her laugh rings out. “But I’d say those hours you said you spent looking at the cake picture on Pinterest this morning paid off. It’s stunning.”
It kinda is. Impressed, I nod, but my eyes narrow. As much as I like the waterfall, should I add or remove something? Unless it’s just me wanting perfection, I can’t figure out what’s amiss.
A shuffle in the hallway makes me jerk.
“They’re back already?” I rush to the kitchen, needing to clean.
But rather than panic alongside me, Serafina smiles at someone over my shoulder. “Looks like I’m no longer needed here.”
She gives me a little wave and scoots off as I spin around.
Jeremy emerges dressed in jeans and a V-neck navy sweater over a blue shirt. His mischievous smile sends my heart into hyperdrive.
I smile back. It’s so hard to be mad at him, especially over my personal insecurities, really.
“As the best man, aren’t you supposed to be at the rehearsal dinner?” I shouldn’t want him to be anywhere near Sonya since she, too, went to the rehearsal dinner.
“Rehearsals are over, now it’s dinner. I had to come and check on you.” He stops in front of me. His hand lifts to my jaw, and his fingers brush off remnants of something, powdered sugar perhaps.
Struggling to breathe, I fight the urge to close my eyes.
“How’s it going?” His hand drops to his side, and his gaze flicks to the island. “You—wow!”
His low whistle slides out. Amazement gleams in his blue eyes as he takes my hand and leads me to the island. “You made a waterfall cake? How did you do that?”
I shrug, my chest expanding as he assesses the cake. “Zee, you should be opening a cake shop instead of a café.”
“Have you forgotten the pressure we were under last night?” Wedding-cake bakers, I’m sure, have to deal with deadlines and pressures from demanding clients like Sara, not to mention the women society has termed bridezillas.
“The waterfall is perfect.” He points at the olive-green leaves and vines. “I like how they entwine the tiers. It adds a touch of organic detail.”
“I hope it complements the watery motif.”
“They’ll like this better than Mom’s original rose-themed cake. A waterfall is more meaningful to them.”
“Hope told me to make whatever cake was easier, and I thought of that picture of them in Uganda in front of the waterfall.”
“Exactly.” He leans in, squinting as if studying something. He then ushers me over, and I move to crouch beside him. Our breaths unite as he points at the brown fondant-crafted stones.
“There’s stones around the top tier and at the bottom tier around the waterfall’s base. Is there any reason you didn’t want to put the stones around the middle tier?”
I slap my forehead with the back of my gloved hand. “That’s what’s missing.”
His detailed eye is always needed. It would look better if all tiers matched.
I reach for the fondant from the container, the balls I’d rounded, and offer one to Jeremy.
“You should put it on.”
His eyes widen. “You want me to mess up the cake?”
“You’re meticulous. If anything, I’d be the one messing up.”
He holds back his hands, and I point to the box of gloves. After he slides on a pair, I hand him the stone, then watch as he places the first stone. He then looks at the design on the other side when I hand him the next stone. While it takes forever, he lines the stones to match the other tiers. Then he steps back with a lopsided grin, yanking off his gloves and tossing them into the makeshift trash can under the island. “How did I do?”
I nod, slipping off my gloves and tossing them aside. “We make a great team.”
He steps beside me as we admire the whimsical design.
“We definitely make a great team.” He wraps his strong arms around my waist, drawing me in front of him. His smile wobbles, and his voice dips low. “Thank you… for saving me and making the cake on such short notice.”
My heart is racing. The way he is looking at me with so much admiration… I part my lips to speak, but the words don’t come out, especially when he leans in. Our lips meet, my fingers move to his jaw, and I savor the sensation of his stubble against my palm as he kisses me tenderly and sweetly. His breath of chocolate and something else has me melting into him, and his intoxicating scent makes me forget my tantrum yesterday.
But again, this is Jeremy, unpredictable where love is concerned. He’s doubtful one day and confident the next.
We’re panting and breathing hard when we pull back. My hands still grip the edge of his shirt, and his arms remain curled around my back.
“You make me feel things”—his forehead rests against mine, and his gruff voice cracks—“things I hadn’t in so long.”
Is that an admission that he loves me? I dare not assume with Jeremy. I’m already terrified he’ll hold onto his promise to end things after Gavin’s wedding tomorrow.
“You’re giving me mixed signals.” I draw back enough to meet his gaze. I must make sure he’s over his ex and wants us to make our pretend relationship real.
“I’m scared.” His voice is hoarse, and vulnerability shadows his eyes.
“What are you scared of?” I hope not me.
“I really like you, Zee,” he whispers, his eyes searching mine. “I just… haven’t done relationships since—”
“Hello!”
We hear another voice, voices actually, and we tear apart. Heels click before Sara intrudes. My mind’s awhirl. Was Jeremy suggesting he couldn’t do relationships despite our chemistry? For a good communicator at company events, he has terrible communication skills in personal matters. I guess, sooner or later, I’ll find out if I need to give back the ring. I like my ring though, and I’d hoped by now things would be clear between us.
“You want to help me put the cake topper on?” I nod toward its box. It should be presentable when his mother looks at it.