Chapter 19
When the morningof the Great Serenity Bake-Off arrived, the anticipation in the air was as thick as a fudge brownie. A gentle breeze carried the tantalizing aromas of baked goods, and it seemed even Mother Nature herself was rooting for us in this sugary showdown.
Only Bishop, Jordan, Mochi, and I attended the bake-off. Lucia had to miss the event because she was looking after her son, who had the flu. As we gathered on the grass, Mochi sat beside me, her pink bow askew atop her furry head.
Under the golden afternoon sun, we set to work constructing our booth. Jordan, with a wooden mallet in hand, tried to pound a stubborn stake into place, only to miss and hit his thumb instead.
“Ouch! Son of a biscuit!” Jordan yelped, shaking his throbbing thumb and dropping the mallet.
I arranged the colorful bunting on the table. “Careful, Jordan.”
The bustling town square had a vibrant array of booths displaying baked goods like delectable works of art, tempting every sweet tooth in Serenity Falls.
Bishop frowned. “You sure this is sturdy enough, Jordan?”
Jordan fumbled with a canopy pole, almost hitting himself. “Trust me, boss, it’s rock-solid.”
Bishop grappled with the canopy cover. “At least we have incredible pastries to enter in the contest.”
“That’s the spirit!” I gave an encouraging fist pump. “And if the canopy fails, we can always use it as a very avant-garde tablecloth.”
Jordan stabilized the pole. “Good idea.”
After we finished constructing the booth and overhead canopy, Jordan and I organized the display of cupcakes, muffins, cookies, and pet treats on the table. This was our chance to prove to the town that Doughy Desires was a bakery where creativity and eatable art converged.
“Kenzi!”
Glancing up, I spotted Bree waving as she and Chantel wove through the crowd toward our stall. Mochi perked up instantly, abandoning my side to greet his favorite person as Bree made a beeline for him.
“Hey there, little furball,” Bree cooed, squatting to pet her.
“Hi, Kenzi.” Chantel scratched behind Mochi’s ears. Her tail wagged, her tongue lolling out in a doggy grin.
Bree straightened. “We wanted to stop by and wish you good luck.”
“We’re both cheering for you.” Chantel leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “And if you need any extra motivation, you can find it in that tall, broody baker you work for.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, glancing at Bishop, who was engaged in conversation with a customer a few feet away.
My cheeks flushed. “Behave. I’m working, not flirting with my boss…at least not today.”
We shared a smile.
Bree gave me a thumbs up. “You’ve got this, Kenzi. I hope the judge loves your dog biscuits.”
Chantel grinned, giving my arm a squeeze. “Whatever happens, it’s not about winning, it’s about proving to everyone that you’ve got talent and passion. But for the record, you’re totally going to nail it!”
“Thanks, you two. With cheerleaders like you, how can I fail?”
Chantel and Bree wandered off to browse the other booths and sample the goodies.
Jordan blew out a low whistle. “Looks like we have a lot of competition.”
I spotted Maxwell Turner, Bishop’s cousin, and our main rival across the town square from us. His booth, adorned with lavish decorations reminiscent of his opulent Sweet Sensations bakery, boasted a variety of extravagant mini-cakes that looked almost too pretty to eat.
Bishop squinted against the sunlight. “Of course, Maxwell would go all out,” he muttered, frowning. “But taste is what matters most, and we’ve got that covered.”
“And our yummy Mochi-approved treats,” I said.
The residents of Serenity Falls were out in full force, sampling delicacies and chatting about their favorites. Laughter and exclamations of delight wafted on the breeze, drumming up anticipation for the competition’s results.
We greeted each visitor with attentiveness, describing our baked goodies and offering samples. Many customers left with satisfied smiles and promises to return. Mochi did a frisky spin and barked, as if trying to gain the attention of each person visiting our booth.
I tilted my head, a teasing grin forming on my lips. “Think the competition has any idea that they’re up against the best bakery in town?”
Bishop straightened a stack of cookies on the display. “Oh, I’d say they’re shaking in their aprons right about now. Especially since we have a secret weapon.”
“Oh?” Twirling a strand of hair, I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
He leaned in. “A certain someone with an amazing smile and a flair for misquoting Jane Austen. Though I have to admit, I’m beginning to think that’s part of your cute charm.”
“Misquoting Austen? Never! Just giving her words a modern twist.” I blew out a breath. My nerves tensed rigid as a cat at a dog parade. “How are you so calm? I’m a nervous wreck.”
He patted my shoulder. “Don’t stress it. If we lose, we still tried our best, right?”
“Wow, Bishop giving pep-talks. I like it.” Mochi whined and pawed at my leg. “Jordan? Do you mind taking Mochi for a quick walk to do her doggy business?”
“No prob.” Jordan and Mochi walked off toward the parking area.
“Kenzi!” Mrs. Hall, the town librarian, approached with her French bulldog, Maxine. “I’ve heard great things about your pet treats. Can Maxine try one?”
I smiled, holding out a bone-shaped biscuit for the perky bulldog, who gobbled it down and wagged her butt, begging for more. “Looks like we’ve got another fan.”
My confidence soared, and Mrs. Hall nodded with a smile before they moved onto the next booth.
“Okay, everyone,” Bishop whispered, “the bake-off judge, Miranda Shaw, is finally here with her dog, Duchess.”
Miranda walked up to a stall on our left. Her short black hair framed dainty Asian features, and her sharp gaze peeked out from behind rectangular glasses. An elegant crimson dress draped her slender frame, while her simple flats hinted at an understated sophistication. Trotting beside Miranda was Duchess, a silver-gray poodle with a diamond-studded pink collar.
“No pressure,” I muttered.
As Miranda sampled the baked goods at each booth on her way toward ours, each bite made her face brighten one moment and then crumple the next. At Maxwell’s stall, she took a nibble of an éclair and her mouth immediately downturned. His shoulders slumped, and a twinge of sympathy struck me. Miranda moved on, slowly making her way toward our booth.
“Here she comes.” Bishop straightened up the napkins.
Jordan returned and wrung his hands, and Mochi sat on the grass near him.
Miranda moved to our booth, scanning our array of baked goods with a discerning eye. Duchess waited patiently at her side, sniffing the grass, then touching noses with Mochi. They both wagged their tails.
“Good afternoon, Miss Shaw,” Bishop greeted her warmly. “Welcome to Doughy Desires. We’ve prepared a delightful assortment of pastries for you to sample.”
“Hmmm. Your display looks quite impressive, but taste will decide the winner today.” Her voice sounded measured and authoritative. “What do you recommend I try first?”
Jordan handed her one of Bishop’s cupcakes, and she took a nibble.
She nodded, taking another bite. “Exquisite.”
“That means a lot to me, Miss Shaw.” Bishop gestured at me. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have a special treat for Duchess as well.”
I stepped forward, presenting one of my dog biscuits. “At Doughy Desires, we believe your pet deserves only the best. That’s why our gourmet pet treats are made with all natural ingredients.”
Miranda accepted the treat and offered it to Duchess. The regal poodle sniffed it before devouring the biscuit, her tail wagging.
“Would you look at that?” Miranda’s eyebrows climbed above her blunt-cut bangs. “Duchess is usually more discerning than a food critic at a five-star restaurant.”
I leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. “Word around town is that Duchess has impeccable taste.”
“We’ll take a few more biscuits, if that’s all right,” Miranda said.
“Certainly.” I placed a plastic bag into her hand.
Miranda smiled. “It’s obvious the passion you both have for your baking and customers.” With a graceful twirl, much like her diva dog, Miranda strolled to the next booth.
Bishop’s face lit up with excitement. “The judge loved our samples!”
My chest expanded with warmth. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“She liked Kenzi’s pet treats, too,” Jordan said. “Maybe we have a chance at winning.”
I glanced at Maxwell’s booth, his face twisted into a scowl and my happiness somewhat deflated. He looked like someone had force-fed him a sour lemon. Poor, Maxwell.
“Your cousin looks sorta green,” I whispered to Bishop. “I feel kinda sorry for him.”
My boss stiffened. “Well, don’t. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
I offered our delicious creations to others and chatted with customers, while Bishop took an order for three dozen cupcakes for an upcoming party.
Jordan sidled up to me. “I noticed that you and Bishop have gotten awfully friendly the last few months. And I’ve been meaning to ask, did you talk him into helping you with Bree’s tuition?”
I blinked. “No, I would never do that.”
“Oh…that’s weird. I thought you had.” Jordan frowned. “Because I overheard him talking about it with the school’s director. His parents are on the board and they voted to give Bree a free ride. Seems the boss has a soft spot for you and your sister.”
Mochi pawed at my leg, perhaps sensing the shock washing over me.
“Wow. That was incredibly generous of him and his family...”
I peered over at Bishop, who was talking with the locals. A wave of gratitude and adoration swept over me, and I couldn’t wait to thank him.
“Attention, everyone!” Miranda announced, holding a small microphone she had acquired from somewhere. “It’s time to declare the winner of this year’s Great Serenity Bake-Off!”
I stood beside Bishop, our hands brushing against each other. It was all coming down to this moment.
“Let me say,” Miranda continued, eyeing the township with a serious expression, “that the competition has been fierce. And now…” Miranda paused for dramatic effect. “The winner is Doughy Desires!”
The residents erupted into cheers, and for the first time since I’d met him, a genuine smile broke across Bishop’s face. Caught up in the excitement, he scooped me up into his strong arms, swinging me around like we were the leads in a romantic musical.
“Kenzi,” he breathed, setting me on my feet, “we won.”
I swallowed, unable to form words and still reeling from the feel of his arms holding me.
Bishop stayed close, his hands tenderly cradling my face. He stared into my eyes with a look of long-held yearning, then his gaze lowered to my lips. Tilting his head, his mouth met mine in a passionate kiss that had my toes curling and my heart doing somersaults. He held me firmly, his hands sliding down to my waist. The embrace became fiery and intense as I wrapped my arms around him and the world disappeared. He deepened the kiss, and every nerve in my body awakened, leaving me breathless and dizzy.
When we pulled apart, I swayed. Those romance novels didn’t prepare me for kissing Bishop, which was hotter than any bakery oven—particularly the part where my brain went all fuzzy and my knees forgot how to work.