A Haven on the Bay - Nicole Ellis Page 0,38

an icebox cake—all recipes from the journal. Meg had asked Taylor if he was interested in helping her out before his shift at the Lodge, but he’d hemmed and hawed, and she wasn’t sure if he’d show up or not. He’d seemed interested in the journal too, so she’d been surprised at his reluctance to try out the recipes in person.

Someone rapped on the exterior door. Meg marked her place with a notecard and carefully closed the old book. She opened the door and found Taylor standing there, shifting on his feet.

“Hey,” she said warmly. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you today.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze. “I had a lot to do this morning.”

“Well, thanks for coming. I’m a little worried about how these recipes are going to taste and I’d love to get your input on them.” She gestured to the center island. “C’mon. Let me show you which ones I chose. I saw at least thirty recipes scattered throughout the book, but these looked like they’d be best for the event.”

She hadn’t finished reading the journal—so far, she’d only made it about halfway through. Reading Davina’s private thoughts seemed like something she should savor and not rush. Meg still hadn’t figured out if Davina had been a guest or an employee at the resort, but she hoped the journal would reveal her identity soon.

Meg showed Taylor her selections and he familiarized himself with the instructions. She stood next to him, reading over his shoulder, although she’d already gone over the recipes about twenty times to ensure she had everything to prepare them.

“Seems easy enough.” He looked directly into her eyes, his face mere inches away from her. “Are you sure you need my help?” His voice held an unfamiliar edge.

Caught off-guard, she moved to the other side of the island to put some distance between them. Why was Taylor acting like this? Had she overstepped the bounds of their friendship by asking him to help today—especially after he’d already been so generous with his time?

“I suppose I don’t need your help, but I thought you might enjoy testing out some of the recipes in the journal.” She paused to gauge his reaction, but his face was stoic. “If you don’t have time, I completely understand.”

A muscle twitched in his neck and he sighed deeply, then gave her a small smile. “I have time.” He removed his lightweight jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall, then surveyed the room. “Do you have an extra apron?”

Meg grinned. “I do.” She grabbed a red apron off the wall. It bore the words “Kiss the Cook” and an image of a frog. Her mom loved novelty aprons and kept a few in the catering kitchen.

He read the front of it and his cheeks flushed to almost the same shade as the apron. He held it out at arm’s length. “Do you have a different one?”

His expression was priceless. There were others, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, then managed to say with a straight face, “Nope, that’s the only extra we have.”

He took another look at it, then slipped it over his head and tied the strings at the waist. Meg couldn’t keep quiet once she saw it on him, and a giggle escaped. He looked far different than he did at the Lodge, where he always dressed professionally in a crisp, white chef’s jacket.

He pursed his lips and glared up at the ceiling. However, when his gaze lowered, he broke into a huge smile. She breathed a sigh of relief. The gag apron had melted some of the tension between them, and she hoped they’d revert to their normal camaraderie in the kitchen.

Her plan entailed making all three of the new recipes in the morning and sampling them at an early lunch. The icebox cake was the first thing she’d made when she’d arrived at the kitchen over an hour ago. It was supposed to be in the freezer for several hours before serving, and though she wasn’t sure whether it would be completely frozen by lunch time, it should still be edible.

If any of the recipes turned out badly, there were always the tried-and-true catering selections to fall back on. But, if their initial attempts tasted good, she and Taylor would prepare them in larger quantities for the party. With any luck, it would be the latter case. There was