How to Catch a Rival

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by Ana Ashley

“You know about the Pride festival, right?”

  “Yes, I’m working on a window display for the Masons.”

  “There are lots of events, but the one that people love the most, with exception of parade day, is the Pride bake-off.”

  I read the information on the leaflet. The competition was for amateur bakers, and there was a prize.

  “Fuck me,” I said out loud. “Ten thousand dollars?”

  “Yup, it’s insane. People raise money all year round for the prize because the competition is so much fun to watch. They do the challenges in the high school gym hall. Last year, one contestant set her hair on fire when she was doing a crème brûlée. Another one forgot to turn the oven on. You’d have thought the lack of heat from the oven was a giveaway, but no, she still turned the cake onto a plate. The batter went everywhere, and then she slipped on it, and as she was falling over she took another contestant down with her.”

  By the time he finished, tears were running down Indy’s face, but my gaze kept going back to the prize money on the piece of paper I was holding.

  Ten thousand dollars plus the savings I already had would be enough to lease the store for a year.

  “Indy,” I said, looking back up, not quite believing what I was about to ask. “I think I’m going to enter this bake-off. Will you help me?”

  4

  Wren

  It had been three years since I’d seen my family, and looking at my dad’s sleeping form on the hospital bed, I knew it had been too long. Hell, even a year would have been too long.

  He looked like he’d aged ten years, which was likely a result of his heart attack and being unwell, but the light-gray hair on the sides of his head hadn’t shown up overnight.

  That much was evidence that life had carried on for my parents in my absence. They were both in their mid-fifties. The store kept them busy and active, but was it starting to be too much for them? Was work what had caused my dad’s heart attack?

  I wouldn’t know because I hadn’t been around, I hadn’t visited; I hadn’t asked.

  My dad stirred a little, so I pulled the hard plastic hospital chair closer to his bed, sat down again, and held his hand. His skin was soft, small wrinkles were showing his age, but what really got to me was how pale he was.

  After Troy’s call I’d looked for flights on my cellphone, but my hands had been too shaky. Aiden had taken the phone from me and within a few minutes he’d booked me on the next available flight.

  I hadn’t even called the school to see if they could find cover first. Luckily, the principal was very sympathetic and told me to take as long as I needed.

  Another call to the assistant coach on my way to the airport a few hours later, and he’d taken down my plans for the team’s training and next couple of games.

  I could stay in Chester Falls for at least the next three weeks, but now, seeing my dad lying on the hospital bed looking so frail, I wasn’t sure it would be enough. If it would ever be enough, but those were thoughts to pack away for another day.

  When I’d arrived at the hospital my mom had told me he’d been in surgery for the best part of the day before and had woken up briefly before I arrived. I’d only just missed Troy, who’d gone back home to rest since he had to go back to school tomorrow.

  That was another thing to add to the guilt I was already feeling. It was my sixteen-year-old brother that had been here for our parents. I rested my head on my arms without letting go of my dad’s hand.

  Tears I couldn’t stop soaked the fabric of my shirt as tiredness came over me. I must have been really jetlagged because the next thing I was aware of was a hand running through my hair softly and whispered voices.

  I looked up and met my dad’s eyes.

  “Dad, you’re awake.” My raspy, sleepy voice sounded foreign even to my ears.

  My mom, who’d gone out to get us some coffee earlier, was back and sitting on the other side of the bed.

  “Hey, Son.”

  “You know, Mom would have given you a vacation if you’d asked for it,” I teased, not feeling the lightness I tried to show.

  “What, this one?” he said, holding my mom’s hand. “She’s a slave driver. The other day even made me wash the dishes.”

  Like me, my mom’s fake look of indignation wasn’t selling it.

  We’d had a talk outside the room when I’d arrived. It had been a very close call for my dad. The fact that he’d nearly died on the operation table twice was cause enough to take his recovery seriously and appreciate that he’d been extremely lucky. We had to count our blessings that we still had him with us.

  “Mr. Mason,” a nurse said, coming into the room. “I’m glad to see you awake. You gave us a little scare yesterday.”

  She checked him and injected something in his IV and made some notes on the file at the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not running any marathons today, I can tell ya that,” Dad said.

  “Good to know, I need you to rest up and press the buzzer if you’re in any pain. There are no heroes in here. If you’re in pain, we can give you the good stuff, alright?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The nurse put a hand on my mom’s shoulder and squeezed gently and smiled at me before leaving the room.

  “What a pretty young lady,” Dad said. “Did you see her smile at our boy, Abi?”

  “Dad!”

  “Leave it with me, Son, I’ll be here a few days, I’ll see what information I can get.”

  He winked and my mom shook her head.

  I groaned. Trust him to think about my love life not five minutes after coming back from a life-changing operation. He turned to Mom and smiled; his eyes looked heavy.

  “Sleep some more, my love,” she said, placing her hand on his head and running her fingers through his hair.

  I left the room to give my parents a moment together. In all the years I’d dated women, and more recently men, I’d never met anyone that made me feel anything close to what I saw between my parents when they looked at each other.

  Movement in the nurses’ station caught my eye, and I saw the nurse. She smiled the same warm smile from earlier when I approached.

  “Hi, I’m Wren Mason, Jonas’s son?”

  “Oh yes, he should be sleeping soon from the medication I gave him, can I help you with anything?”

  She started to get up from her chair so I held up my hand to stop her.

  “No, no. He’s fine. I wanted to ask you some questions, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course. It’s normal for families to want to know what happens next, the risks and so on. Mr. Mason had a major operation yesterday but he’s a strong man.”

  “Thank you, he’s also not the most patient man when it comes to being stuck in one place so I’m apologizing in advance.”

  She smiled again at my comment.

  “Don’t you worry, I’ve seen plenty of patients like your dad. Trust me, he’s not too bad.”

  “When do you think he’ll be released to go home?”

  “It’s hard to say because the next forty-eight hours are crucial, but he’s doing well so far, so I think the doctors will probably release him in a week.”

  My mom came out of the room looking exhausted.

  “Come here,” I said, pulling my mom into my arms for a tight hug. She was small in my arms but not fragile. My mom was one of those women with inner strength you could see by just staring at her. She could deal with this and more, but I’d be damned if I didn’t want to make it easier for her, even if it was just for a little while.

  “Can I convince you to come home for some rest?”

  She stood back and looked toward the door of my dad’s room.

  I could have kissed the nurse when she said, “The medication he’s on will knock him out at least until tomorrow. Go home, Mrs. Mason. I’m on tonight’s shift. I’ll keep an eye on him and promise to call if anything changes.”

  My mom went over to the nurse and took both of the nurse�
�s hands into hers. “Thank you, my dear. I really can’t thank you enough for all your work.”

  Traffic out of the city was slow. I looked at my mom and noticed her staring at me.

  “What?” I asked, taking her hand and bringing it up to my lips for a kiss.

  “I missed you, that’s all, it’s been such a long time.”

  “I know, Mom. I guess I got so caught up with stuff I didn’t realize how long it’s been since I was home.”

  She smiled softly, her eyes boring into me as though she could read me like an open book.

  “I’m staying for a little while to help out,” I said.

  “Oh no, my dear. You don’t need to do that. You must be busy back in California. It was nice of you to come, but honestly, we’ll be okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” All the words I wanted to say were caught in my throat. At any other time, the slow-moving traffic would have been the ideal opportunity to open up to her.

  Ever since I was a kid, and even before Troy was born and life at home had become busier for her, the time to really get my mom’s undivided attention was when we were stuck somewhere. At first it had been when she drove me to school on rainy or snowy days, when it wasn’t safe to walk. Then it had been after shutting the store, when my dad had been in the office cashing up and Mom and I had been out on the floor in semi-darkness, tidying up the shelves and bringing stock out.

  Yes, this was the best opportunity, but not the best time.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “Never mind, we can talk later. So tell me what’s new in Chester Falls.”

  The rest of the drive was taken up with the lowdown on my hometown. I was glad to know some things never changed. Benny’s Diner was still there and going strong, and I couldn’t wait to have one of Momma Ruth’s pancake breakfasts.

  “Isn’t the Pride festival coming up soon?”

  I saw my mom’s face turning toward me from the corner of my eye.

  “Yes, it starts next week.”

  “Are they still doing the window display contests?”

  My mom crossed her arms and huffed.

  “Yes. Although sometimes I don’t know why we bother entering. We end up doing it more for the community than the competition.”

  I took a quick glance at her. Other families fussed over Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, but in our family it was all about the Pride festival and, in particular, the window competition. We’d even won it a few times, but I’d have to admit I hadn’t given it much thought since I’d left for college as I had never been able to come back for the festival.

  “You don’t seem very enthusiastic about it.”

  She sighed. “I can’t see past this week and getting your dad home. Tom is doing his best looking after the store, but I’m not sure he’ll have enough time to work on the window because Troy’s exams at school means he won’t be around as much to help out.”

  “Who’s Tom?”

  “Oh, he’s new in town. Such a sweetheart, he is, and hard-working too. Very creative. We hired him thinking Dad and I could step back a little, you know.”

  Yes, I knew. Working six days a week, covering the opening hours plus all the stuff that needed doing when the store was shut was hard work.

  Mason’s had always been a family business, and my parents instilled in us pride for the store, for the work we did, and the community. Can’t say I was overjoyed to spend all the school vacations working, but it had taught me the discipline and routine I needed to succeed working in a team.

  I was happy that my parents had already thought of stepping back a little, but a strange feeling settled in my chest at the thought there was someone working in the store that wasn’t family.

  Not that I could blame my parents for getting help when I wasn’t around. God, I was such a jackass, but I wanted to do my part now I was in town, even if for a short time.

  As we pulled into my parents’ driveway and I stared at the house I grew up in, a sudden feeling of happiness settled in me. It was nice to be home.

  “Mom,” I said before we left the car. “I really do want to help. Let’s have some rest and you can take me to the store in the morning for a handover before you go back to the hospital.”

  “Okay, dear. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. That Tom kid might be a good helper, but I grew up in the store. You won’t need to worry about anything for the next three weeks, okay?”

  She looked at me like she was going to say something, but she simply smiled and stroked my cheek the way she always had when I was a kid.

  “Okay.”

  5

  Tom

  After my evening with Indy I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the Pride bake-off. What was already a late evening had turned into an almost all-nighter when I’d got home, because I hadn’t been able to stop researching everything I could about baking competitions, recipes, and especially getting acquainted with the rules of this particular competition.

  I’d picked an outfit that I knew always made me feel good—a pink pair of jeans matched with a yellow shirt—and because I’d planned to work on the Pride window today, I also wore my yellow rainbow sweater. Charlie had given me the sweater for my birthday a couple of years ago after I’d broken up with my then boyfriend, and the little sparkly rainbows never failed to cheer me up.

  Even my outfit hadn’t hidden how tired I was, or maybe Indy just knew me that well because he’d put an extra shot of expresso in my morning coffee and had let me borrow his bigger flask for coffee for my lunch.

  Mason’s hadn’t had any deliveries this morning and, thankfully, people had stopped coming by with food, so I was able to work on the window. I wanted it to be an experience rather than something just for show.

  Mason’s was all about the community. I’d heard about the charity work Abi and Jonas had done over the years, so I wanted the window to be about bringing the community in and experience what it was to be part of the Mason family. I send Troy a text asking for his help and then started restocking the homeware shelves.

  I was carrying a few throws when a half-shrieky and full-annoying voice stopped me halfway down the aisle.

  “Is Abi here?”

  Turning around was a mistake because I couldn’t stop my reaction to the hideous outfit the woman was wearing. Hoping I disguised my gag reflex with a cough, I put on my biggest smile.

  Goodness gracious Coco. The woman’s clothes fully matched her voice. Loud, mismatched, and my instinct told me to be more careful approaching her than a deadly spider.

  “Good morning, I’m afraid Mrs. Mason isn’t here today, can I help at all?”

  “I want to speak to Abi, when is she back?”

  “I’m not sure when Mrs. Mason will return from her errands, but if there’s anything you need I’m happy to look for it in the storeroom or order it.”

  She sneered.

  “I don’t want anything from here.”

  The woman turned to leave and in that moment Abi came out from the office area. She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept for weeks, even though it had been only two days since Jonas’s heart attack.

  Despite the woman’s presence, Abi sent me a smile before turning to the annoying woman.

  “Hi, Trisha, how can I help?”

  “Oh, hi, Abigail. I wanted to know if you’re going to participate in the Pride window competition this year.”

  So this was the infamous Trisha Potts, the woman from the haberdashery store. I turned back to place the throws on the shelf but kept my ears well-tuned in Abi and Trisha’s direction.

  If the woman so much as upset a hair on Abi’s head, I’d pounce on her like a tiger, and even fear of snagging my favorite sweater on her claws wouldn’t stop me.

  Fortunately, Trisha didn’t stay long, and Abi didn’t look like she needed help handling her.

  There was a small breeze from the door as a new customer came in. I moved to greet them, but as I went around the aisle I stopped in my
tracks, because right in front of me was the chest of my dreams.

  The white shirt did a poor job of hiding the rock-hard muscles underneath. I took in a shallow breath and a waft of unmistakable woodsy citrus assaulted my senses.

  “Bleu by Chanel,” I whispered.

  I was almost afraid of looking up in case the face that went with the body and the heavenly smell didn’t quite match, even though I partly doubted it, and partly didn’t care.

  Eyes bluer than the sky, blond hair that was short on the sides and longer on top, just long enough to fall a little to the sides, and I wondered what it would feel like to tug on it as the full lips attached to that sinful mouth wrapped around my cock.

  “Are you okay?”

  The voice was rich and deep but soft, and it spoke right into my soul.

  “Holy mother of fairies, are you real?”

  There was no doubt I was hallucinating. Maybe I’d hit my head on a shelf and didn’t realize I’d knocked myself out. I really should touch it to make sure.

  My eyes were fixed on my hand as I raised it slowly and saw the chest expand and deflate in rapid succession. He radiated heat, like real-life warmth, but before I could feel it under my touch he grabbed my wrist.

  “What are you doing?”

  The cold tone of the voice made me look up again. The words daggers and ice came to mind.

  I stepped away from him and nearly tripped on a stool I used to reach the higher shelves. Quickly, I recovered, dusting off my stupidity and standing as tall as my five feet ten allowed.

  “I’m sorry, I think I was possessed by a spirit but it has left me now. How can I help?”

  The space between his eyebrows narrowed. His eyes flickered between my mouth and my eyes. Oh crap, maybe he was deaf. I repeated my words again but slowly in case he could read my lips.

  “Hooow. Caaan. I. Heeelp?”

  “I should be asking you that. Are you looking for anything in particular? Something for the house, a gift?”

  “You’re not deaf?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, thank god. My ASL is limited to asking for a Snarky Hyena at the Compass, because the bartender is très mignon.”

 

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