by Liz Isaacson
Her phone rang, and while she expected it to be Finn, it was Beau.
“Hey, baby,” she drawled.
“Ma,” he said. “You asked about the cupcake competition, and Lily and I have decided.”
“Oh, perfect,” she said.
“It’ll be a couples competition this time. So you and Finn would work together.”
A smile curved her lips. “That’s great, son. Just great.”
“So you’re in?”
“Yes,” she said. “Finn and I are in.”
“Great. Gotta go,” he said, and he hung up before she could even say good-bye. She didn’t mind, because all she could think about now was seeing Finn in an apron, trying to fill or frost a cupcake.
She couldn’t wait for the Whiskey Mountain Lodge Cupcake Wars. Oh, no, she could not.
Chapter Twelve
Finn reached for the thistle that was trying to hide back behind the rose bush, sweat dripping down his face. As much as he loved summer, he could do without Mother Nature trying to bake the state of Wyoming off the face of the planet.
His garden sure did like it though, and his sprinkling system had come on that morning, so the ground was nice and wet for weeding. He’d been fitting in little tasks like getting the flowerbeds around his trees cleared in any spot of time he could find.
Now that he was dating Amanda, spending time with her had taken priority over some things. They’d been out a few more times over the past couple of weeks, and she still slipped through her front door with a coy smile on her face before he could kiss her.
Every dang time.
Finn wasn’t sure what kind of signal she was trying to send. He should probably just ask her. Get it out in the open. It wasn’t like he had to hide how he felt about her.
With the weeding done along the side of the house where he had a dozen rose bushes standing sentinel, he retreated to the front steps, which were bathed in late afternoon shade.
His thumbs hovered over the screen, but in the end, he tapped to her name and hit the green phone button to call her. She didn’t have a paying job, but Finn had learned over the last few weeks that she spent plenty of time working. She helped people from her church. She babysat her grandkids. She baked things and took them to people who couldn’t get out of their homes, or who needed a pick-me-up.
She did a few things around her yard, but she paid a gardener to do the bulk of the care, and Finn was actually considering doing the same thing.
“Hey,” she said, her voice bright and cheerful on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” he said, his mind suddenly blank as to why he’d called. The Cupcake Wars at Graham’s lodge was a couple of days away, and that was the next time he’d been planning to see her.
“Are you going to make me try to read your mind?” she teased.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, I have a question for you. It’s a yes-no type of deal. I really only need one word. I don’t need an explanation or anything.”
A beat of silence passed. “Finn, I’m a little worried right now, I’m not going to lie.”
“I’m scared out of my mind,” he said, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to call. “It’s just…we’ve been out several times now. You hold my hand. You seem to have a good time. I walk you to the door…and you slip away. Is that what we are? Don’t answer that; that’s not the question.” He drew in a deep breath.
“Are you ever going to let me kiss you?” he asked.
A healthy amount of silence poured through the line before Amanda started laughing. “That’s the question?”
“A yes or no would suffice,” he said, feeling more and more foolish as she continued giggling.
“Yes,” she said.
Relief rushed through him. “All right. That’s all I had.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.
“I’ve got a meeting tonight, remember? That guy from—”
“Spirit Lake,” they said together. “I remember,” she added.
“I’ll see you at the lodge on Saturday, though,” he said. “Right?”
“Right. You’ve been practicing your frosting making skills?”
“Uh,” Finn said. “I think that was on my agenda for tomorrow.”
That got her to laugh again, and Finn smiled at the sound of it coursing through his ears. The call ended, and he sat on the front steps for a few more minutes, just enjoying the country air, the stillness of his farm—and the fact that he was going to get to kiss Amanda Whittaker at some point in the future.
Saturday afternoon found him pulling into the parking lot at Whiskey Mountain Lodge. He’d been inside a time or two, but usually just to hover near the front door while Beau got something for him. He spent a lot more time down the road at the ranch Laney and Graham owned, so he wasn’t quite used to the grandeur that awaited him inside the lodge.
And the noise.
“You made it,” Amanda said with a smile after she’d opened the front door.
“I made it.” He held up his apron. “And this came in the mail this morning, so I’m ready.”
She laughed, embraced him, and said, “We’re waiting in the kitchen. Come on.”
There were easily twenty adults in the kitchen and dining room, which were connected to make one big space. The kitchen was large, but there was no way ten couples could create cupcakes in there. He slipped a half-step behind Amanda easily, hoping no one would look his way.
However, it felt like every eye in the place had locked onto him, and he couldn’t help squirming and shifting a little bit.
Finally, a woman waved both arms above her head, and said, “It’s time to begin. Everyone quiet down.”
“That’s Celia Armstrong,” Amanda said, leaning her head close to his. “She’s the chef here at the lodge, and she organizes these cupcake events.”
Finn felt like he needed to get a new job, because organizing cupcake events sounded a heck of a lot more fun that walking through the henhouse to gather eggs. It smelled astronomically better, he knew that.
“We’re working in teams of two today,” she said. “Two couples will battle up here, while two battle downstairs. The winner from upstairs will go against the winner from downstairs, and we’ll have one champion per round.” She glanced around at the crowd. “I believe we had eight couples signed up, but I don’t see Vi….”
“She’s coming,” Lily said. “She’ll be here in time for round two.”
Finn was glad he knew a few faces and names, at least.
Celia nodded while saying, “Then the two winners from each round will do one last bake. A quick bake. One cupcake. Their best cupcake. A winner will be named from that bake-off.” She turned and lifted a whiteboard onto the counter. “I’ve got the brackets here. Come see when and where you’re baking. The first round will begin in ten minutes.”
Chatter broke out again, and several people surged toward the white board. Amanda slipped her hand into his as a few people turned toward them. “Ready?” she asked, but Finn didn’t have any time to answer before a man who looked very much like Graham said, “I’m Andrew, Amanda’s son.”
“Hello,” Finn said, putting on his best smile. “I’m Finley Barber.”
“Andrew is married to Becca,” Amanda said, though she’d rehearsed this information to him before. “They have a daughter Chrissy, and—”
“And this is my baking partner today,” Andrew practically yelled, grabbing onto a dark-haired woman. “Bree. She’s our gardener here, but Celia’s been giving her some baking lessons, and I think we’re going to take this trophy home today.”
“Oh, please,” Amanda said. “Last time I checked, you ate out for every meal.”
Bree laughed, and Finn did too, though he wasn’t much better. He could make a few things, and he could definitely read and follow a recipe. He hadn’t practiced any frostings, but how hard could they be?
>
“You’re up in the first round, Mom,” Graham said, tying an apron around his waist. “Hey, Finn.”
“Graham.”
“I hope you brought your A-game,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Laney and I have been practicing for weeks, and you’re up against us.”
“Upstairs or down?” Amanda asked, stepping away from Finn but not removing her hand from his. He went with her, somewhat surprised at the smack talk happening in this family. He actually enjoyed it, and it made them all seem more human. More real. More enjoyable to be around.
“Upstairs,” Graham said.
“She can’t measure flour right now,” Amanda called, and Celia whipped around from the white board to reprimand Laney.
Finn started laughing, and Amanda smiled in a predatory way. “We’re going to cream you,” she said to Graham. “Come on, Finn. Let’s strategize.”
He wasn’t sure what there was to strategize about, but he said hello to a few more people as Amanda tugged him into the kitchen. He tied on his apron, and he listened to her talk about making a churro cupcake and a triple chocolate cupcake.
He literally would be making fillings and frostings, and he told her he could do it. Because he could. He could whip butter and powdered sugar to make buttercream. He could melt chocolate and pour it into molds. Everything she detailed for him, her mouth moving so fast he could barely see it, he could do.
She’d make the cupcakes and get them in the oven before making the churros. They’d decorate together, though Finn knew that meant he’d stick a sugared churro in the frosting after she piped it onto the cupcake.
“Two minutes,” Celia called. “If you’re not in this round, you have to leave the kitchen.” She walked out of the dining room and a moment later, yelled the same thing downstairs.
Finn felt an energy in his soul he hadn’t in a long, long time.
“Go!” Celia yelled, and Amanda thrust the recipes at him and flew into motion. He moved a little slower, getting out all the ingredients he needed for both frostings and the two fillings before beginning. He’d start with the chocolate pudding, so it could set up. Then he’d do the cinnamon sugar butter for the churro cupcake. Then frostings, as those really were just whip-it-together type of things.
He worked in a small area, only needing one burner and a mixer on the counter. Chaos reigned around him, but he focused on his tasks. Amanda kept checking with him, but all he could say was, “I’m on schedule, sweetheart,” or “Everything’s great. We’re going to win this.”
She seemed to be a Tasmanian devil in the kitchen, and he wanted to just sit and watch her work. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and Finn felt himself slipping toward falling in love with her.
By the time Amanda said, “I need the pudding, Finn,” it was chilled and ready. He pulled it out of the fridge and handed it to her.
“Tell me what to do to help,” he said.
“Use this to take out a chunk of cupcake from the churro ones,” she said, handing him a tool that looked like an apple corer. He did as she said, pulling out little nuggets of cupcake from four vanilla-cinnamon cakes.
“Put in the cinnamon butter,” she said as she pressed her piping tip up into the chocolate cupcakes and squeezed in the pudding.
He carefully scooped out little round balls of cinnamon-sugar butter and placed them in the center of the cupcakes.
“Piping bags?” he asked, already reaching for one.
“Yes, please.”
He loaded them both—one with the white chocolate frosting he’d made and one with the cinnamon frosting—and handed her the chocolate one as soon as she set down the pudding. She swirled beautiful mountains of frosting on the cupcake and said, “Garnish.”
Finn went back to the fridge as Celia called, “Two minutes, people! Two minutes. All cupcakes have to be in the judging spot in two minutes.” He almost tripped over his own feet, but he managed to open the fridge and retrieve the cowboy boots he’d made from semi-sweet and bittersweet chocolate.
“Finn, pull those churros out, would you?” Amanda sounded near panic.
Finn left the chocolate on the counter, and using a pair of tongs, removed the short churro sticks from the hot oil on the stove. She had a plate of cinnamon and sugar sitting there, and he placed the fried dough on it. With his hands, he quickly rolled them around, getting them covered.
Moving back to the cowboy boots, he carefully stuck one in each mound of frosting and put three cupcakes on a long, white plate Amanda had ready for him. “These are done, sweetheart.”
“Take them to judging,” she said, finishing the last swirl on the churro cupcake. “These are too hot.” She grabbed the churros and tossed them on a clean plate, sticking that in the freezer while Finn took their first plate of triple chocolate cupcakes to the a taped-off area on the dining room table.
Celia grinned at him, and while he didn’t know her, he smiled right on back. “Thirty seconds!” she called.
Finn spun back to the kitchen, noticing Graham and Laney had all their cupcakes in the judging square already. “Gonna have to take them out,” he told her.
“Ten more seconds.” Amanda looked like she’d swallowed a beehive as she turned and put the three best churro cakes on the plate. It felt like ten years passed before she yanked open the freezer and stabbed the churro sticks in the top of the frosting, making them look like perfect little teacups with straws.
She dashed over to the table and put the plate down just as Celia said, “Time’s up!”
Amanda threw up her hands and laughed, turning to Finn and grabbing him in a tight hug. “Nice job, cowboy,” she said, making his every cell light up.
“Judges,” Celia said, and several children entered the dining room. “This is a blind taste test. The kids don’t know who made what cupcake.”
Finn stood there with his arm around Amanda, more nervous than he thought he’d be. For some reason, he really wanted to win. For her. So she’d be proud of him.
They tried all the cupcakes and whispering ensued. Celia bent down with all of them, finally straightening and saying, “The children have chosen the triple chocolate cupcake and the churro cupcake as the winners.”
Amanda shrieked, throwing both hands up into the air again. She hugged Finn before taking a few steps and hugging her son and daughter-in-law too. Finn shook both of their hands, and though he’d lost, Graham couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“Good job, Finn,” he said, taking off his apron. “Come on, Laney, let’s go get some ice cream down at the ranch.” They left the kitchen, and Amanda nodded toward a doorway.
Finn followed her, a happiness making his steps light as they went into the backyard. “That was incredible,” he said.
“Yeah?” she asked, turning back to him. “You enjoyed it?”
“So much fun.” He gathered her into his arms. “And we won. I told you I wouldn’t let you down.” With that, he bent his head toward her, finally going to get his kiss.
And what a kiss. Her lips tasted like chocolate and cinnamon, and Finn’s mouth fit against hers so well, she felt made to kiss him.
She pressed into him, taking the kiss one step further, and he went with her, his heartbeat pounding and every sense on high alert. It didn’t matter that the sun was so dang hot. Didn’t matter that his hands were still sticky with sugar and icing. Nothing mattered in that moment but kissing Amanda.
So Finn focused on that.
Chapter Thirteen
Amanda held onto Finn’s face, the heat spiraling through her body absolutely lethal. Pure pleasure wove through her, and she kissed Finn like her life depended on having her lips on his.
He finally pulled away, and Amanda sighed, immediately sucking at the air again. “Wow,” she said, tucking herself against his chest.
Finn said nothing, but held her against his pulse, and she’d never felt safer than she did in his arms. She wasn’t sure why she’d slid away from him after all those dates, but after he’d called a c
ouple of days ago, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
The only reason she could come up with was Jason. And she hated that. But Jason had never let her slip away from him. He’d have said, “Can you stay here for a second? I want to kiss you.”
And then he’d have done it.
Finn wasn’t Jason, and Amanda knew it. Jason kissed her like he wanted her, but Finn kissed her like he loved her. There was a distinct difference, and while she wanted to be wanted and loved, she was glad Finn’s kiss had held more adoration than passion. At least for now.
“So we have an hour,” he said. “Want to show me around this place?”
“Sure,” she said, stepping out of his arms and linking her arm through his. “We sit out here and eat on Sundays sometimes. The kids like to play in the pool or on the swings. My older granddaughter likes to ride horses.”
“Ah, so she’s a cowgirl.” Finn chuckled.
“A little bit, yeah,” Amanda said. “It’s Graham’s step-daughter, Bailey.”
“She’s definitely a cowgirl,” Finn said. “I like her. She’s a good girl.”
Amanda led him down the sidewalk toward the stables. “I don’t come down here much, but it seems like your territory. Beau takes care of the horses here. There’s a dozen or so.”
“Any other animals?”
“A couple of dogs, maybe.” Amanda turned him toward the forest. “There’s a nice path back here.” They entered the shade, and the temperature went down a few degrees, thankfully. “You were great in the kitchen. So calm.”
“We better talk about what we’re going to do in the bake-off,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Sounds like it’ll be a fast round.”
“It’s thirty minutes,” she said. “We should do mini cupcakes. They’ll bake faster. We can’t do a filling, but we could dip in a ganache or something.”
“A gan-what?”
Amanda laughed, clinging to Finn as if she couldn’t walk on her own. She felt like a flirty schoolgirl as she said, “It’s just a chocolate sauce. That will protect the frosting from melting too badly.”