you two. I’m just grateful that you listened to me. And I don’t want you to feel pressured into hiring a stranger, Alex.”
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “Do you have a brownie in the competition, Chef Nora?”
“Yes. Only for appearances. I always secretly tell the judges not to rank me. It wouldn’t be fair, a professional against amateurs.”
“That’s really nice of you.” Although Sydney had to make sure her gram never discovered that tidbit of information. She’d be crushed to learn she hadn’t beaten a chef for the past three years.
“If we keep up this truce of ours, you’ll see that I can be nice most of the time.”
“I think we should. It should be a permanent truce. I’ll rope Amelia and Everleigh into it, too. The four of us will have a do-over.”
Alex opened the door. “Take me to your brownie, so I can taste it. Then come over tomorrow and we’ll talk.”
Aww, she knew he’d come through. “Not too early,” Sydney cautioned, with a grin of satisfaction. “I’m going to keep this man up ‘not talking’ all night.”
Chapter Twenty
“Where’d you disappear to?” Teague asked. He pushed back a plate with only a few sandwich crumbs left on it. “You missed lunch.”
“Took it with me. So I could bring you all back dessert.” Pleased by the setup, Alex triumphantly revealed the plate he’d hidden behind his back as he strode into the inn’s breakfast room.
Amelia popped out of her chair. She of the voracious sweet tooth circled him like a vulture. “Ooh. What’s that?”
Crap. Nora had offered to write out a key, but he’d insisted he could remember everything. Sydney would roll her eyes and laugh at him later when he confessed. And then remind him that he didn’t have to pretend he could do everything, all the time, all by himself.
It was a lesson Alex was trying to take to heart.
But…it hadn’t been anywhere close to sixty-six days yet. The habit wasn’t set into his psyche yet.
At least, that’d be his excuse.
“Pineapple carrot muffins, almond pound cake, maple bacon sticky buns, double chocolate walnut biscotti, and…uh…you’ll know when you taste the last one.” Alex guessed apple coffee cake? Could be pear, though. Or ginger? Something cakey and delicious with white chunks. He wasn’t a chef, for crying out loud.
He peeled back the plastic wrap and set it in the middle of the table. Right on top of the pile of fabric swatches. The ones the Egret Bay ladies had sent over for them to choose patterns for their ‘linen needs.’
“Why did you go and get us a treat?” Everleigh’s hand hovered over the plate, then drew back. And then she squinted at him. “I’m suspicious. What bad news do you have to break?”
“No bad news, knock on wood.”
Obviously, Alex actually knocked on the wooden table. Just in case winning the lottery had already used up all their luck. He wasn’t the type to read his horoscope or avoid black cats, but no point jinxing himself, either.
“Well, I have bad news.” Teague crumpled up a bag and lobbed it at him. “You didn’t stick around, so I finished off your honey barbecue chips.”
“Ouch. That’s a low blow. Can’t believe I’m sharing a cottage with a low-down, dirty, chip thief. What did the Army do to you, man?” Alex asked in mock horror.
Amelia knocked Everleigh’s wrist aside. “Who cares why they’re here. I just want to eat all the yummy things. Sheesh.” She’d popped the top off a muffin before even finishing the sentence.
Everleigh still had a laser-lock on him. “They really aren’t a bribe? Or an apology? Or both?”
“Nope. Just a test run to share.”
“For what?”
He toed out a chair and flopped down next to Teague. “Nora’s baking up a storm. She wants us to try everything. First, she’s trying everything, then she wants us to taste it, even though I told her there’s no way we can work through it all. She’s splitting the leftovers between the fire station, the police, and the three churches that host the emergency winter shelter for the homeless.”
“Nora?” Amelia broke the muffin in half and passed one to Teague. “The one Sydney had us make a tentative peace accord with at the Valentine’s Dance? Why does she want us to eat her stuff?”
Uh-oh.
Oh, no.
Fuck.
Alex had screwed up. Royally. He knew it. Same as he knew he’d have to admit it to them in the next breath. And it would be bad.