Wedding Cake Wishes

Her face felt like it was on fire. She needed no reminders of those humiliating matchmaking events, where the two moms had tried to set her up first with Matthew and then with Dylan. It didn’t matter that she’d never planned to marry or even that she was thrilled that both of her sisters had found love. She still couldn’t help feeling sensitive over all of that rejection.

The decorators were staring at her, curiosity painted all over their faces. If someone asked her if she was married to her career, Caroline was sure she would die of embarrassment. What was she supposed to say now? That she and her career had divorced? It wasn’t anyone’s business, any more than anyone needed to know that her choice not to date was less about her feminist leanings and more about a broken heart.

Caroline braced herself, waiting, but the two women were suddenly studying something behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know that Logan was back there, witnessing the whole humiliating exchange. The tingling at the back of her neck gave her enough of a hint.

“Just thought I’d check in and see how the cakes were coming along.”

Logan leaned against the wall just inside the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed. His words were innocuous, but his jaw was tight, and his fingers pressed too tightly into the snug-fitting cuffs of his short-sleeve polo shirt. His words were layered with meaning, as well. It couldn’t have been clearer that he thought the decorators should spend more time decorating cakes and less time looking for information on Caroline’s personal life.

Margie must have gotten the message because she bristled. “They’re coming along just fine, Mister Warren.”

“Well, that’s great to hear, Margie.” He put as much emphasis on her first name as the decorator had on his title since she’d avoided using his given name. “We’ll all have our work cut out for us with Mom out of commission.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Kamie said in a banal tone.

Caroline couldn’t help staring at Logan. Had he really just stepped in to defend her? Inexplicably, a memory from last Christmas sneaked into her thoughts. It was one of Logan with chilly rain plastering his flannel shirt to the wide expanse of his back as he hefted an ax to take down his mother’s massive Christmas tree.

What was wrong with her? She couldn’t be flattered that he’d come to her rescue when she had every right to be offended. She was no damsel in distress any more than Logan was a knight in shining armor. Or Paul Bunyan.

“Things are going great out here,” Caroline said to fill the uncomfortable silence. “How’s everything in the back office?”

“It’s a slow start, but I’ll figure it out.”

The two women, who seemed to be making a point of not looking at Logan, exchanged a look.

“Of course you will,” Caroline couldn’t help saying. Whether Logan should have stepped into the conversation or not, she could see that it had put him in an uncomfortable position with two of the employees on the first day. The least she could do was be gracious over his sacrifice if he would have to deal with that awkwardness. “There’s a learning curve to working with new software.”

“Hopefully, the hill won’t be too steep. I didn’t bring my climbing gear.” He chuckled at his own joke though no one else joined him.

“You know I could give you a few pointers—”

Logan raised his hand to stop her. “Thanks, but I’ll figure it out.” He turned back to the employees. “Well, carry on, ladies.”

Without waiting for a response, he returned to the office but closed the door only halfway.

“Sorry if we were too…er…invasive,” Kamie said as soon as he was gone, and her partner nodded her agreement.

“Thanks.” Caroline almost wished they’d apologized to Logan instead.

“We’ve just heard so much about your two families since your mom moved back to Markston that it’s hard not to get caught up in the stories,” Margie said with a shrug. “Especially the matchmaking part.”

Caroline slid a glance toward the open office door, from where Logan had to be able to hear the conversation. Whether he’d denied it or not, he’d guessed that their mothers had been trying another one of their matchmaking ambushes. Could he have been right? She hated admitting that she suspected it, too, but she hated even more that her palms dampened at just the thought of it.

“Well, it’s good that you’ll be here helping Logan,” Margie began again. “He’ll need it.”

Again, Caroline’s gaze darted toward that open door, and she was even sorrier this time that Logan could overhear them. Okay, she’d doubted his abilities herself when her mother had said he would be operating the bakery during his mother’s recovery, but she hated that no one seemed to be in his court.

“Logan would have had this place in shipshape in no time. With or without any help.”

“Of course,” Kamie said.

Her comment must have surprised the women as much as it had Caroline because both gave her guarded looks before turning back to their cakes. She told herself her small show of support was only to help Logan establish himself in a position of authority so he could manage the business. At least, that was the only way she could explain it.

Caroline returned to her own task of familiarizing herself with the kitchen tools. After she closed the last drawer, she glanced up at the clock and stepped down the hall to the office. Through the crack in the door, she could see Logan crouched over his mother’s laptop and tapping keys at an angry pace. He must have sensed her presence, because he turned back to her.

“Do you need something?”

“I was going to offer again to help you out with that software program.”

The side of his mouth lifted. “No. Really. I’m good. If I don’t figure it out soon, I’ll call for help.”

“Okay, I guess,” she said.

Caroline didn’t even know why she was belaboring the point other than that she felt indebted to Logan. First, he’d taken pity on her and agreed to work with her after he’d learned about her joblessness, and then he’d come to her rescue with the busybodies. She wasn’t used to feeling beholden to anyone, and it didn’t sit well.

She had to make it up to him; that was all there was to it. She would already have done that if he would only allow her to give him a computer mini-course.

Well, she would just have to find another way to return his favor. Maybe she could teach him how to do inventory lists or complete supply order forms. She didn’t care if she had to learn to operate the giant mixers just so she could teach him how to mix up a yellow cake batter. In the next few days, she would find something to do so she could settle her debt to Logan Warren.

“Well, that’s just not good enough.”

The sound of the screeching female voice reached Caroline’s ears the moment she stepped inside after her quick lunch trip home to drop off her luggage. She’d been sure that when she returned to the bakery wearing her business-casual ensemble of black slacks and a crisp white blouse the rest of the day would be a breeze. Wrong.

“I don’t want one wedding cake,” the woman continued, her voice still a few decibels above a speaking voice. “I want each of my guests to have an individual cake.”

“Of course,” Logan said in an unnatural-sounding voice. “Multiple cakes do make a statement, but I’m not sure, based on the budget you’ve just presented me, that they would be the best choice.”

Caroline cringed as she hung up her purse on the hook next to Logan’s black leather jacket and motorcycle helmet. She hurried into the kitchen, where several employees were crowded near the swinging door. Had Logan never heard of the business adage, “the customer is always right”?

Since none of the employees were bothering to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping, Caroline didn’t pretend, either. She leaned close and spoke out the side of her mouth. “What’s going on out there?”

“Just another Bridezilla with big ideas and too small a wedding budget,” Margie told her.

“Why isn’t anyone helping him?” But as soon as she asked it, Caroline realized she didn’t want anyone else to do so. She’d been looking for a way to repay Logan for stepping to her defense earlier, and this was perfect. She knew how to appease irate customers with her eyes closed and both hands tied behind her back.

Squeezing past the decorators and two cake bakers, she pushed the swinging door open. Through the glass in the bakery counter, she could see Logan seated across from the furious bride-to-be.

“Well, you’d better find a way to make it happen, or I’ll be taking my business elsewhere. Amy’s isn’t the only bakery in town, you know.”

Certain the deal was heading south faster than a flight from Indianapolis to Orlando, Caroline skirted around the counter and hurried toward the table where Logan sat, staring down at the price binder instead of at his customer.

He looked up and lifted a hand to stop Caroline, but she ignored him. He might not be happy about this now, but he would thank her later when she saved him from losing a customer on his first day at work.

“What Logan was about to say is that we at Amy’s Elite Treats would be delighted to work with you to make a cake or cakes that will meet all of your needs and impress your wedding guests.”

As the young bride looked up at her from the binder of wedding-cake photos in front of her, Caroline took a few steps forward. “Hello, I’m Caroline.”

The young woman brushed at a few angry tears and then looked back and forth between Caroline and Logan, as if she wasn’t sure which one she should be listening to.

“So you will be able to make individual cakes for all my guests and stay within my budget, too?”

The woman must have chosen her as the primary source now because those red-rimmed eyes appeared hopeful and were trained right on her. Suddenly, Caroline felt as if she was walking into a business meeting unprepared—something she’d never done in her life. Why had she jumped in with two feet before she even knew how deep the water was?

“Well…” she said, stalling.

“Go ahead, Caroline. Tell Nicole your plan for helping to make her wedding picture-perfect,” Logan said.

“It’s just that I’ll need to check a few things first.” Because Caroline was cringing inside, waiting for him to call her out in front of the customer, his chuckle surprised her.

“Come on. Don’t hold back.” He tapped his finger on the price list, speaking to the young bride instead of to his temporary coworker. “She was about to make a suggestion, and she’s right. It would be perfect.”

“What would be perfect?” the bride asked.

“You’ll have to forgive me because this is my first day and I’m only familiarizing myself with the price list.”

The vibrant, white smile Logan trained on the young woman could have earned a presidential pardon, as far as Caroline was concerned. She wondered why she’d never noticed before that the dimple in his right cheek was deeper than the one on his left. Why she was noticing it now, she didn’t even want to analyze.

“Anyway,” Logan continued, “I’m sure Caroline had already figured this out, but we have an alternative in the price list that will fit into your budget and still make a statement for your dream wedding.” Logan maintained eye contact with the customer while he spoke, morphing into a confident salesman in a naturalist’s body.

It didn’t surprise Caroline that Logan would rely on his masculine charm to smooth over the situation, but that he’d used it to cover her gaffe—now that surprised her.

“How would you do that?” the bride asked.

“You could have a small two-layer cake for the wedding party and then provide mini cakes, which serve two people each, for the other guests.” He glanced down at the price list and then back up at her. “Another option would be to have a cake for each reception table, but just by ordering mini cakes you’ll be cutting your number of cakes in half and trimming some of the cost.”

“It’s up to you,” Caroline joined in, “but if I were one of your wedding guests, I might like the warmth and community of sharing cake with a friend.” She didn’t look at Logan, but she could feel his gaze on her.

The woman thought for a few seconds and then nodded. “I guess that could work.”

“It’ll be great. You’ll see,” he said.

Having won the bride over, Logan made an appointment for her to meet with one of the designers early the next week and walked her to the door. Caroline had bent to return the photo albums to the shelf behind the counter when she realized he was standing behind her. She straightened and turned to face him.

“You just couldn’t help yourself from coming to my rescue.”

“No— I mean, I didn’t—” Finally, she gave up and shrugged. She couldn’t deny it because that was exactly what she’d been doing.

Instead of answering, Logan stepped around her and pushed through the kitchen door. Caroline trailed after him, relieved that the eavesdroppers had had the good sense to scatter.

He announced to the others that he would be taking his lunch but didn’t even look back at Caroline as he switched into his riding boots, grabbed his helmet and jacket and headed outside. The door had barely closed before the sound of his motorcycle reverberated off the concrete walls.

He had every right to be mad. She might as well have worn a firefighter’s helmet and carried a flashing red light as obviously as she’d tried to rescue him. Only, he hadn’t needed rescuing, and he’d ended up covering for her. She didn’t know what to do with that truth.

She listened, waiting for the roar of the motorcycle engine to filter away, but instead, the sound stopped. Seconds later, Logan stomped into the entry, carrying his helmet under his arm. Strange how he didn’t look the part of Matthew and Dylan Warren’s little brother as he stood covered in all that leather gear and indignation.

Caroline drew in a breath, not entirely from shock.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, lowering his helmet to the floor. He glanced around at the employees who were pretending not to listen. “Outside,” he added.

Swallowing, she followed him, and when he held the door open for her, she didn’t argue. Under normal circumstances, she would have considered telling him she was uncomfortable with such chivalrous notions, but the tight set of his jaw told her this wasn’t the time.

As soon as the heavy steel door closed behind them, he whirled to face her. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know what you—”

But Logan didn’t let her finish. “You know exactly what I mean. You showed up like the cavalry, planning to save the day, and you did it in front of the whole staff. As if they weren’t already doubting my abilities.”

“It’s just like when were kids and you fell off your skateboard and…” She blew out a breath. “I was just trying to help.”

“No, you were just disappointed that I didn’t fail.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true.”

He paced to his motorcycle, shoving his hands back through his hair. “I knew I was making a mistake. I knew it.”

Though he’d been speaking more to himself, he turned back to her now. “I get it that you agreed to come here because you thought you could do a better job running the shop than I could. If I hadn’t felt sorry—” He stopped himself but not before his message became clear.

Caroline drew in a breath. Just because she’d suspected he’d only accepted her presence out of pity didn’t make it any easier to hear the truth spoken aloud.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did.”

He started to deny it, but one side of his mouth lifted and the steel of his posture softened. “Okay, I sort of did.”

“And you’re kind of right about why I came here. I also had quite a bit of free time.” She shrugged and then met his gaze directly. “But you’re wrong about me wanting you to fail. I just wanted to pay you back—”

Logan drew his brows together. “Pay me back?” Realization must have dawned because he started nodding. “Of course. I got the ladies to stop before they started asking a bunch of nosy questions, and you’re trying to return the favor.”

“It’s good that you understand.”

“You mean how crazy it would make a control freak like you to be indebted to anyone? Sure, I understand.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“I knew that some of the employees were listening from behind the door.”

Caroline stared at him. “You knew? I’m sorry that they don’t seem all that supportive of you.”

“It’s always tough when the boss’s kid takes over.”

“Well, that’s unfair of them to discount you before they’ve given you a chance.”

“Is that so?”

At his smile, she felt ashamed. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d done? “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“You didn’t need my help, anyway. You were amazing with that bride.”

He studied her, as if waiting for a punch line. “Thanks,” he said finally. “Look, why don’t we just call it even? We don’t have to keep score for the next few weeks. I’ll even try to listen to your suggestions while you’re here, preferably if you don’t give them in front of the other employees. And you can…”

“I don’t know…trust that you know what you’re doing until you ask for help? And maybe you could avoid mentioning my being…er…unemployed around here.”

“Deal.”

His smile was so warm that Caroline was convinced she could feel the heat on her own skin, but she tried to shake away the thought. This was just the invigorating feeling of having a purpose again. That had to be it. If not, she was in big trouble because her immunity to Logan Warren was in danger of falling faster than a cake after someone slammed the oven door.

Chapter Three

Logan trudged along the tiles of the same hospital corridor he’d paced so many times in the last few days, the antiseptic scent stirring nausea in his belly. Caroline’s footsteps tapping in time with his only unsettled him more.

As if visiting with his mother this way wasn’t heartbreaking enough every time, it was even harder seeing the shock on friends’ faces the first time they visited. None of them saw any hope for Amy’s recovery, no matter how much lip service they paid to it later. He could just imagine how bleak Caroline’s expression would be. She tended to see the world in blacks and whites with little hope for grays.

“Will your motorcycle be okay where we left it?” Caroline asked from behind him.

The uncomfortable look on her face when he glanced back at her probably had more to do with the critical care unit they were about to enter than the fact that she’d insisted on driving when they’d left work, but he nodded anyway. He would have declined her offer of a ride, but then he would have been forced to consider why he’d needed to put space between himself and this particular woman. He didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

“The bakery’s in a pretty safe neighborhood. Even if the door really had been unlocked this morning, the store probably would have been fine.”

The last he’d added to calm her nerves, but she was too busy staring at the sign that said “Critical Care” to notice his effort. He stopped just outside the department’s double doors, with his hand on the button that automatically opened them.

Caroline paused beside him. “Has she been conscious?”

“Most of the time. She’ll be glad you came.”

Caroline’s gaze darted to the door and back, and then she straightened her shoulders. They entered the department and Logan turned at the first hall.

“It’s down this way.” After a week of visiting, he could have found her hospital room with his eyes closed.

Next to him, Caroline was fidgety and nervous, the same way she’d been at the bakery that morning. And then he remembered the likely reason for her disquiet. Caroline had lost her father two years before, and hospitals probably reminded her of that loss.

Well, they shared that discomfort with hospital settings in common. Just as he had during every visit, he felt as if he was coming out of his skin, and they weren’t even inside his mother’s room yet. He paused just outside the door.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, for his benefit as much as hers.

He could tell from Caroline’s sharp intake of breath the exact moment she saw his mother lying asleep in the second bed of the double room. He could barely keep himself from gasping every time he saw his mother this way.

In sleep, his mother’s face was relaxed, but so far at least, her face became no more animated even when she was awake. The silver hair, which was rarely out of place, now stuck out all over her head and appeared to have turned white overnight. Her left arm rested tightly against her torso, her fingers curling back toward her body.

For several seconds, Caroline just stared, and then she took a few steps toward the bed. Over her shoulder, she whispered, “She’s sleeping. Do you think we should go?”

“Wha…” Amy’s eyes blinked open. She looked back and forth between them, her gaze filled with confusion. “Lo…”

“Yeah, it’s me, Mom. Logan,” he answered before she could struggle further. “Caroline’s here, too.”

The movement was small, but Amy managed to turn her head toward her best friend’s daughter.

“Goo…”

“Yes, Mom, it is good.”

He looked to Caroline then, but her stricken expression was gone, and the smile that replaced it could have made even the sickest person feel better. Rather than hang back as some of his mother’s other visitors had, Caroline rushed forward and dropped a kiss on top of that matted head of hair.

“Oh, Mrs. Warren, I’m sorry I haven’t made it here to see you yet.” Lowering into the seat next to the bed, she reached around the bars to grasp Amy’s good hand. “Are you feeling any better tonight?”

“Pea…”

“Mom, I sure hope you’re saying that you’re feeling ‘peachy’ and not like ‘pea soup.’” He crossed to the opposite side of the bed and bussed his mother’s cheek before returning to take the seat next to Caroline.

“Bo…th,” Amy said with obvious effort.

Logan and Caroline chuckled over her comment that sounded humorous whether she intended it to or not. Caroline lifted up from the seat and leaned in to brush the hair back from Amy’s face. Logan pretended not to notice that as she did it she blinked back tears, but he swallowed the emotion thickening in his throat.

When Caroline lowered into the chair again, she gestured with her head for him to take his mother’s hand instead. An unsettling feeling squeezed in his chest, and his eyes burned. He drew in a gulp of air and let it out slowly. Tears wouldn’t give his mother back the full use of the left side of her body or her ability to speak. He believed that prayers could, but he wished God would hurry up with His healing power.

They sat for a few minutes longer, watching as Amy nodded off. There was something comforting about Caroline being there, someone who cared for his mother almost as much as he did. This compassionate side of Caroline was new to him, seeming to soften her hard edges, but he suspected that side had always been there, buried beneath all of her goals and lists.

The sound of footsteps brought his attention to the door. Mrs. Scott pushed the door open, a paper cup in her hand.

“I didn’t realize you two were in here. Dylan and Jenna are in the waiting room. They’ll want to come in when you’re finished.”

“Oh. Okay.” He lowered his mother’s hand and stood.

Trina stepped to the bed and lifted the pitcher off the side table, pouring ice water into the cup and replacing the lid and straw. “Did everything go okay at the shop today?”

Next to Logan, Caroline stood up from the chair, sending him a worried glance.

“We did fine,” he said.

Caroline blinked but seemed to recover from her surprise. “Logan did a great job handling a difficult customer. You would have been impressed.”

It was Logan’s turn to be surprised, but before he had the chance to look over to Caroline to see if she was serious, his mother shifted next to him.