Eloise
The aroma in the kitchen was sweet as I stood at the now cleaned island with the centerpiece boxes stacked on the floor around me.
Hudson and I had finished mixing and pouring the cake layers and they were now baking in the oven, so we moved onto the next task.
Josalyn had sent me a few pictures of the centerpieces, and I was currently unpacking the items so I could figure out how everything went together.
There was a six tier cluster candelabra in the center.
Bows were tied on each stem and there was a floral arrangement at the base.
I was in the process of unwrapping the candelabras and setting them in front of me when Hudson walked back into the kitchen.
He’d excused himself ten minutes ago to do a consultation.
I never considered myself a fickle person, but now I was starting to wonder.
Deciding that it was going to be too awkward to stand with him in silence, I decided to speak first. Keeping our conversation surface level and basic seemed the best course of action.
“Did it go well?” I asked as I set the candelabra I’d been unwrapping down on the island and then crumpled the brown paper into a ball.
I tossed it into the trash bin next to me before I turned to study Hudson who hadn’t responded. He must have felt my gaze because he glanced over at me with his eyebrows raised.
“Did it go well?” I repeated, this time slower.
He frowned.
“The meeting?” It was strange to me that I was having to spoon feed him like this. He had to know what I was talking about. What had him so discombobulated?
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “It went fine.”
It was my turn to frown now. “So why do you look so…” My voice drifted off as I mimicked his current body language with my arms folded across my chest, my weight in my back leg, my lips tipped down into a frown, and my body hunched forward.
He and I had a very different definition of the word if this was how he portrayed fine.
My example must have landed because he dropped his arms and shook out his body like he was trying to relax—but I wasn’t buying it. Something had happened and it was obvious that he didn’t want to tell me.
Realization dawned on me. Of course he didn’t want to tell me and I shouldn’t care.
Whatever happened wasn’t my business. Just because we had one innocent food fight didn’t negate the fact that we didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore.
I’d made sure to keep my distance and even though for a moment, I’d fallen into old times, in reality, Hudson and I weren’t close.
And we would never be again.
“Oh-kay,” I said, drawing out the word as I widened my eyes and glanced down at the island in front of me. “Well, do you want to help me unbox everything so we can get started?”
I wasn’t going to dwell on what wasn’t being said. Instead, I was going to channel my energy into the task at hand. That was the best course of action.
We’d assembled all of the candelabras and I was in the middle of tying all of the bows onto the stems when Hudson pulled the cake pans from the oven. He set them down on the cooling racks and then joined me once more.
When all of the candelabras were prepped, Hudson removed the cakes from the tins before declaring that they were ready for the frosting.
I’d grabbed a water bottle from the back fridge and sipped on it while I watched him move around the kitchen.
First he cleared a space on the island and then started gathering what I could only assume were frosting ingredients.
With nothing to distract me, my mind began to wander.
I thought about Hudson and his weird reaction today when he came back from his consultation.
Those thoughts lead to our impromptu food fight and I couldn’t seem to forget how my heart had pounded when he touched me.
Then, memories of how things were between us when we were teens rushed over me, reminding me that back then, I had a major crush on him.
How could a man that I thought I knew so well turn out so crappy? Why wasn’t he taking responsibility of Benjamin? Why wasn’t he helping out Hannah? This was the twenty-first century. Just because there’s a baby, that doesn’t mean the parents have to be together. Co-parenting existed for a reason.
Hudson’s gaze suddenly caught mine and he looked confused as he studied me. My cheeks heated when I realized that I’d been staring, so I relaxed my face muscles and shifted on the barstool that I was currently sitting on.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he set down the hand mixer he’d retrieved from the cupboard and pulled open the drawer next to him. He emerged with two whisks and proceeded to put the pieces together.
I chewed on my bottom lip as I contemplated what I could say.
Hannah made me promise not to bring up her or Benjamin, so I couldn’t just outright ask what the hell was wrong with him.
I couldn’t use myself as an excuse. When it came to us, the last thing I wanted was for him to think that I was somehow still hung up on our stupid kiss from college.
I was determined to make Hudson Maxwell think that I was doing just fine and whatever happened between us in the past was now just a distant memory for me.
I forced a smile. “Peachy.”
He didn’t believe me, and I thought he was going to fight me on it until he nodded toward the steel mixing bowl he’d set in front of him. “Ever make frosting?”
“No.”
He held up the now assembled mixer. “Wanna help me?”
My first instinct was to reject his invitation.
We’d already had a close encounter because I didn’t keep a certain distance away from him and I was in no hurry to put myself in a similar situation again so soon after the first. But the alternative option was to continue sitting next to the island, watching Hudson work while my mind wandered and that didn’t seem like a better option. So I slid off the barstool.
“Sure, I guess.” I walked over, noting his small, triumphant smile when I joined him.
I fought the snarky response that was played on my tongue in response to his reaction. Joining him was in no way a win for him. It was an act of self-preservation and it irked me that he seemed to think that he’d accomplished something.
I let him guide me through how much powdered sugar to measure out. I watched as he dumped cups of milk into the center of the fluffy white sugar before setting the paddles into the ingredients and slowly starting the mixer.
At first, the sugar puffed up in a white cloud, but Hudson held his hand steady as he spun the bowl around and soon, the ingredients were all incorporated resulting in a smooth mixture.
He then separated the frosting out into different bowls and handed me a few with some red food dye and instructed me to make different hues of pink.
I was proud of the result when I finished. I studied Hudson as he surveyed my work and inwardly cheered when he concluded that I’d done a satisfactory job.
With the cakes stacked on top of each other with strawberry compote between them, Hudson started to show me how to apply the first layer of frosting.
This was applied to smooth out any clumps and divots created when he trimmed the edges.
He spun the cake on a stand as he barely touched the sides with a metal spatula.
The result soothed my brain in a way that I didn’t think possible.
Icing a cake appealed to me. The result was immediate and when done right, you got a perfectly frosted cake. No chaos, just control.
“Let me.” I had had enough watching with him work and wanted a taste for myself.
I broke my rule of staying a good foot away from him at all times when I stepped up next to him and held my hand out. His gaze was dark as he studied me.
“You think you can do this?” he asked, his tone equal parts curious and teasing.
“Like it’s hard?” I raised my eyebrows. Sure, I wanted to try this, but I didn’t want him to know that I wanted to. I was never going to give Hudson Maxwell leverage over me.
He quirked an eyebrow. “It’s harder than you think.”
I shook my head as I reached out and grabbed the handle of the spatula from him, ignoring the electricity that rushed across my skin when my fingers brushed his. “I think I can handle it.” I tugged gently on the spatula so he knew that I meant business.
Hudson didn’t fight me, instead he let go before angling his body so that I would have full access to the cake but didn’t step back like I thought he would.
Instead, he stayed close, his chest barely brushing my shoulder when I moved.
I chalked it up to him wanting to make sure I did things right since this was for a customer.
The last thing he wanted was for his bakery to go under because I messed things up.
I forced myself to focus as I grabbed the bowl of frosting and scooped out a dollop onto the top of the cake like I’d seen him do.
Then I angled the spatula as best I could before I slowly started to spin the cake.
Two seconds in and I accidentally angled the spatula too much and instead of spreading, I was scrapping off the layer that Hudson had just put on.
“You’re supposed—”
“Hang on, hang on,” I said, not ready for his critique or suggestions just yet.
I repositioned the spatula on the cake and started again.
This time, instead of scrapping the current frosting, I was spreading the new dollop but the layer was thick and uneven.
I knit my eyebrows together as I stopped spinning the cake and lowered myself down so I could see what different tweaks to the angle of the spatula would do to the frosting.
“Need any advice?” Hudson had one hand resting on the countertop and was leaning on it. His gaze met mine as he raised his eyebrows.
I glowered at him. “No,” I said as I straightened and tried again to no avail. I was scrapping the cake with the tip of the spatula, perfectly spreading with the middle, and leaving clumps behind with the end. I pursed my lips as I adjusted the angle once more.
“Here.”