Chapter Twenty-Two
Grayson
“I’m not wearing it,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
Laynie rolls her eyes, holding up the baby pink and white apron. “It’s the only other one I have.”
“Why can’t we swap?” I ask, looking at her blue one. “That won’t look as girly on me.”
“This is my apron. It even has my initials.” She points to the little L.A embroidered in navy blue in the corner. “See.”
“Fine…” I take the pink apron from her hand. I don’t miss the smirk she wears as I reluctantly tie it around my waist before clasping my hands together. “What do we do first?”
“Firstly, you wash your hands over there, and then I will have you working on mixing and oven duty.”
“I thought you were on oven duty?”
I play a drum riff, and Laynie frowns, clearly confused. I point to her stomach, and she snickers.
“That’s a good one.” She flicks me a grin before sobering. “But I need you to be setting the timers and pulling trays out.”
“I can do that.” I give her a small nod.
Washing our hands in the sink, I take a bit of soap and dot it on her nose. She squeaks with surprise before splashing me with water. I have to turn away before bubbled water lands in my eyes, and a bark comes out of me.
“All right, all right. Truce.”
Laynie pouts for a second before nodding. “Truce, before I lose more flour.”
“You’re lucky it was a water fight and not an egg fight. I’d have won that.”
She pokes her tongue out before walking me over to the bench with various bowls of ingredients. “You need to mix them until they look thick like batter. If you’re unsure, then—”
“I know what batter looks like.” I hold up the metal whisk. “I am the pancake pro at the ranch.”
“Then stir, pancake boy.” She coyly smiles with a hand on her hip, a mischievous glint shimmering in her eyes.
Mixing up the bowls, Laynie does some constructing and decorating of cupcakes, while I pour everything into the respective pans. I have to say, I might be the pancake pro at home, but I might also be the oven champion at Golden Hour.
After what feels like hours, we finally have some batches made up and placed in containers for tomorrow. Laynie has done exceptionally well at getting all of this finished in one night. The number of blondies, pastries, and cheesecake is insane. I wonder how she has the energy for all of this.
I just hope that the market tomorrow is worth all this effort. I’m sure it will be.
“We did it,” Laynie chimes, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of heat in the pit of my stomach.
We. I like hearing her say that.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, it all looks great.”
“Thank you so much for helping me with all of this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I give a small shrug. “All I did was mix and control the ovens.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t spill anything, and nothing burnt. So I call that a win.”
Her positivity rubs off on me, and I grin as I pull the ridiculous pink apron off. “Maybe I’m the oven pro.”
“I think you are,” she drawls, and I hear a twinge of delight in her tone, making my fingers tingle. “We can pick all of this up in the morning before heading over to Hollow Grove.”
“Too easy.” I wash my hands before grabbing my things off the bench and walking Laynie to her car. It’s parked in the dimly lit alleyway that’s quiet and out of the eye of those on the main road.
Searching for her keys, she unlocks Betsie and dumps her bag on the passenger seat before turning to face me. I stand with my hands in my pockets, the light breeze tickling the hair around my neck.
“Thank you again.” She pauses, her gaze dropping. “Thank you for everything, G.”
Somehow that thank you feels more loaded than it should, as if she’s not only grateful for my help tonight, but for other things too. Things I might not understand.
“I said I was going to help you out.”
She drags her fingers through her hair, which is now out and falling down her back in a pretty, glossy blonde sheen. “I know, but you’re helping me in more ways than you probably realise.”
My teeth chew on my bottom lip. There are so many more ways that I could help you if only you knew how much I want to be involved, I want to shout at her, but I know it’s not the right time. She’s exhausted, and she’ll need to rest for tomorrow with everything that needs to be done.
So, I settle on, “That’s what best friends are for.”
Laynie’s eyes are on mine, unblinking. My heart pounds in my throat, rattling my rib cage as her hand reaches out, fingers grazing my wrist. I almost flinch at the contact. She always has this effect on me, like when her skin meets mine, it’s electric and intense, but this is different.
This feels charged and amplified.
Swallowing, her fingers close around my wrist, and I wait for her to say something, to break the silence sitting around us when her hand slides through mine.
I’ve felt her fingers tangled in mine many times before, but this feels different.
More purposeful and tender, as if she’s stripping away one of the barriers protecting her and closing the gap between us.
Splashes of pink stains her cheekbones as Laynie averts her gaze, grabbing onto the door of Betsie and slamming it shut. I let in an inhale as soon as our hands detach, because I definitely forgot to breathe for a beat.
She gives me a small smile and walks around to the other side of the car. Opening the driver’s side, Laynie pauses before getting in, her eyes trained on the steering wheel before flicking up to meet mine. “You’ll always be my best friend, Blondie. No matter what.”
She closes the door, leaving me standing beside her car with my hands still in my pockets. My toes scrunch and my fingers run through my hair as my pulse radiates through me.
I have well and truly fallen for my best friend.
The market is buzzing by the time we rock up.
Laynie slept on the drive over, which I didn’t mind.
She needed the rest, and I wanted her to relax.
Tables and temporary covers have been set up in rows along the main street of Hollow Grove.
There are coloured signs, baskets of food, bottles of freshly made juices, herbal concoctions, homemade soaps, and so many other things.
Finding our designated spot, I drop the two bags and boxes I carried from the ute. Laynie places the other two cooler bags on the ground and lets out a sigh. “This should be fun.”
“And chaotic,” I add with a grin.
Laynie starts setting up her stall as I catch Mum coming down the aisle with Reid and Holden.
She stops at the stall beside us and gives Laynie a quick hug before getting to work on her own setup.
I help unpack the desserts, lining them up in sections.
Laynie places out some decorations, mini calk signs, and business cards.
Taking out my phone, I snap a quick photo of her behind the stall holding up some homemade blondies.
She’s wrapped up in an oversized denim jacket with a tanned sheepskin collar, bootleg jeans, her Doc Martins and braided hair with some flyaways.
She’s stunningly beautiful, and I adore seeing her this excited over something as simple as baked goods.
“Can I see it?” she asks as I walk behind the table.
Passing her my phone, Laynie grins and sends it to herself. “I want to post this on our social media and website. It might help bring in some more people, and show that we also do pop-ups.”
“Good idea, ” I say, before sneaking a croissant for myself.
Taking a bite, Laynie’s hand wraps around my wrist. I give a small giggle as she gasps, “You little menace.”
I swallow the mammoth bite of almonds and flakes, grinning. “A cute menace, though, right?” I wink at her.
Laynie shakes her head, but she doesn’t deny it. I watch her cheeks pinken to her unique colour before she goes back to fiddling with the set up. I finish off the croissant and grab five bucks from my wallet, shoving it in her handbag. She’ll find it later, I’m sure.
“Are you ready?” I ask when customers start flooding the aisle, looking around at all of the stalls.
Laynie lifts her chin and nods, but I can’t ignore the way she’s shivering.
“I’ll get you a hot drink to warm you up.”
“Okay, but no coffee. It doesn’t mix well with me anymore, and I’m not allowed.”
I pout before nodding, shuffling my way out of the stall. “Hot chai it is then.”
Making my way down the aisle, I eye off a small coffee cart and order two large chai lattes. “Can you add in extra cinnamon? She likes hers with extra zing,” I tell the girl working there, who has hardly cracked a smile.
After collecting our drinks, I trail back to the stall before stopping. I watch Laynie interact with customers, the light on her face bringing a grin to mine. She’s so in her element, it’s like she was born to do this.
Placing the cups on the ground, I pull out my phone and take some candid photos of her smiling and laughing at some teenage girls before returning to her side.
“Here you go.” I slip her one of the paper cups. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am!” Her excitement bubbles over as she sips on her drink. She groans softly. “This is really good.”
I nod and pull my phone out of my pocket. “I got you some more photos to post. I thought these looked great.”
She flicks through them, her cheeks pinched, before saving them to her phone. “Wow, these are incredible. Thank you, Blondie.”
“Of course, Biscuit.”
Laynie squeals with delight as she wraps a hand around my waist, tipping her head to lean on my shoulder. I drape my arm around her shoulders, soaking in her closeness before more customers walk over and we are forced to disconnect.
After an hour of repeating my explanations and helping Laynie box up some desserts, we finally have a breather.
Laynie flicks through some of the notifications on her phone, which seem to be mainly from online, which is great news. I really hope that this helps Golden Hour take off a little more. Pausing, she reads through a text before groaning and shutting off her phone.
“What’s wrong?”
Looking at me, she gives a small sigh. “It’s just Mum. She’s being a little insufferable right now.”
She opens her phone and shows me the screen.
MUM: Do you think that I could move your bed closer to the wall to give Sadie a bit more room? I brought her a bigger blow-up bed, but it’s getting a little crowded in your room. You’ll have to watch for her when you get out of bed.
My eyes flare a little. Laynie shakes her head. “I can already barely move in there as it is. Why did she get a bigger bed?”
“Can’t Sadie sleep out in the living room?” I ask.
Laynie’s head shakes again. “Dad wakes up early for the shop, and so do I if I’m baking. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
I hum, realising her predicament.
“And Sadie could find her own place, but I feel awkward asking her to move out. I like having her close by, but…”
“Yeah, it would be a lot.”
She nods, and I pull her into a small hug. “It’ll be all right, L.”