Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,6

blink. Still, he was here, and I’d have to do a lot not to look at him as my hero. I wanted to keep talking though, learning more from him.

“What do you have in mind for week one cupcakes now that they’ve given us the heads up on the decoration theme?”

“Are we supposed to talk about it?” he replied quickly, almost defensive, with a tone of panic. I couldn’t unwrap any of those emotions in Justin, and I was kind of embarrassed I’d even asked.

“I guess not.”

He relaxed at that and then tapped his nose, leaned into me, and winked. “I’m not giving away my secrets now.”

He was in my space, and he smelled like heaven. An ocean fresh cologne, the mint of his breath, and his eyes sparkled with humor. So, I reacted in the same vein, leaned in myself.

“I got dibs on kirsch,” I announced. We were close enough that if I moved a touch further, I could kiss him.

What the hell? Rein it in, Casanova.

For a brief moment, he stared at me, and I saw his gaze dip to my lips and then back up. There was a heat there, a casual attraction and I smiled with caution. I was out of practice with flirting, but my twin told me I needed to get a fucking grip on myself, and if that meant getting close to my hero, then that was fine with me.

He stepped back then faked horror and clutched his chest. “You stole my idea!”

I copied his reaction. Anything to break the spell that had been weaving between us. “It’s the stolen custard conspiracy of season six all over again!”

He groaned. “Oh God, that episode! She clearly took that custard and knew damn well it wasn’t hers.” He was talking about Clare Goodwin, the evil stepmother of the sixth season. The baddie that the viewers loved to hate, but who’d somehow, against all the odds, eventually won that season. I liked that we were laughing about something that connected us. My twin had been right, damn him. This show could get me off the hamster wheel, let me make new friends, build my own social circle, and end up being good for me. ‘Stay positive. Rebuild everything. Fuck someone hot.’ That last bit he had said with a lewd grin, for which he’d gotten a beer poured over his head, which led to us tousling on the carpet. The irony that it was his four-year-old twin girls splitting us up wasn’t lost on either of us.

“Without this show, I wouldn’t have the clients I have, and I guess you wouldn’t have a hugely successful career as a, what is it called, a vlogger?”

“Influencer.”

“Shaping the baking minds of the future, I love it.” He winced, so I forged ahead. “We’re lucky we get to do what we love.”

He hesitated for a moment and then nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

“Oh, you’re early.”

I watched the short, loud, and uber-efficient Rita powerwalking our way. She was the same floor manager we’d had in L.A., and a familiar friendly face, albeit one that was always creased in stress. Justin turned as well, and I wondered if she was talking to both of us. I know I was early for my preliminary discussions with Rita and the team who would be discussing the final details of the competition with me. I’d been through it all once, the health and safety, signing disclaimer forms and contracts, it was all paperwork that sat behind what looked like a simple baking competition.

“You’re up first, Justin.”

Finally, I was in the huge garden room on my own. First things first, I needed to find a chair because my back ached after driving curled up like a pretzel from Calgary to Banff in a crappy, way too small, rented Toyota. Not to mention the initial flight from Rochester to Calgary, which had been shit as well since the plane was packed with people. On the last leg, the longest part, I’d been stuck between a big guy who seemed as if he’d eaten garlic at some point in the recent past and a woman who spent the entire flight fretting about missing her favorite show. I stopped listening after the first five minutes, too busy trying not to lean either way, although if it came to it, a missed show beat out garlic breath. I wasn’t used to sitting still, always on the go in the bakery as I created my cakes, so after a few