Love Takes the Cake

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Love Takes the Cake Page 9

by Betsy St. Amant


  Charlotte helped load the boxes with the white chocolate wedding cake onto the cart, then checked to make sure she had the assembly tiers and piping bags for touch-ups.

  This had potential to go down in history as the fastest wedding cake assembly ever. She had intentionally left Zoe with a different babysitter this afternoon, so Julie could help Charlotte get in and out of the venue in warp speed. Julie had come and picked her up a block from Melissa’s house last night. Her friend had commiserated properly, but one thing she’d said kept rolling around in Charlotte’s head.

  People say things they don’t mean when they’re scared.

  Maybe that was true. But at the same time, she wasn’t ready to talk to Will, evidenced by her ignoring his dozen phone calls and half dozen texts after she’d left Melissa’s. Of course he had been scared and stressed. Nothing about his behavior last night at Melissa’s lined up with the Will she knew. He’d been on edge, agitated—and obviously fighting some kind of demon that had nothing to do with her. But her cracked heart couldn’t take the risk again.

  Because what if he had meant it? What if she was truly that disposable? He hadn’t made any effort outside of a few phone calls and text messages. If he wanted to fight for her, wouldn’t he have come over? Shown up, the way he did that day in the bakery? Maybe he’d just been calling to tell her the break-up news officially.

  And that was one phone call she could do without.

  She pushed the cart through the grass toward the barn, head down, eyes averted as Julie trotted beside her, opening the front door, holding back the red balloons tied to the entrance, and shuffling chairs out of her way. The barn had been decorated with stacked hay bales, mason jars tied with red ribbons, and tiny sparkling Christmas lights draped beam to beam. The vast space was set up for both wedding and reception, but the wedding party was nowhere to be seen. No doubt they were busy behind the scenes—taking pictures, touching up makeup, and panicking over last-minute details.

  Funny how she knew so much about something she’d never experienced.

  Charlotte located the cake table, decorated with lace and flowers and sprinkled with black and red beads, and began unpacking the cake stand. As soon as this thing was set up, she’d be back in the van, hightailing it back home. To Zoe. To their predictable life.

  Which might be a little boring, but at least it didn’t hurt.

  “I’ll go find Brittany and tell her we’re here.” Julie hurried out the side door across the barn, pausing to straighten the white runner she’d wrinkled on her way. The wooden door banged shut behind her.

  Charlotte kept focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the musty smell of hay that somehow managed to seem romantic. She just wanted to be done with this cake. Wanted to go home and forget the last couple weeks had ever happened. She’d been content before Will had started frequenting The Dough Knot. Content before he’d upset her life and her heart with his charm and laughter and hazel eyes. Eyes that could look right into her and see the truth, tell the truth.

  He had meant what he’d said in the bakery, when he passed her eye test.

  Her heart ached and her hands shook as she began setting the pillars into the stand. Why couldn’t he keep meaning it?

  She’d never be able to make another snickerdoodle again.

  She fastened the next pillar, looking on her cart for the last one. This was why she’d wanted safe. This up and down, back and forth—it was too much. She needed someone she could depend on. Needed stability.

  Which this cake stand was also going to need if she couldn’t find the last pillar. Had she or Julie forgotten to pack it?

  “Don’t forget this one.”

  An outstretched hand—a male hand—offered the missing pillar.

  Will.

  She took a step back, refusing to look at him. She plucked the pillar from his hand and finished stabilizing the last tier. If only it were so simple to stabilize her heart. “What are you doing here?”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m in the wedding, remember?”

  Oh, she remembered. That’s why she was trying to leave so quickly.

  She ignored him as she began setting the layers in place. A corner of the icing smeared, and an edible pearl bounced across the table. Great. Now she’d have to fix that with her touch-up frosting before she could leave.

  But she couldn’t concentrate with him standing that close. “I’m really busy here, Will.” He was making her nervous, and she hadn’t even seen him in his tux yet. She fumbled for her piping bag.

  “Look at me, Charlotte.”

  No. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. With shaking hands, she began piping the icing. And smeared another edge.

  “I know you heard what I said about us at Melissa’s house. I was out of line.”

  “No. You were just being honest.” Charlotte bit her tongue to keep back the tears as she ducked her head and painstakingly repaired the icing damage. “You said we were done, and ta-da. You were right. We’re done.” She tried to put a hardened edge into her voice that hadn’t yet made it to her heart.

  She could feel him staring at her. Staring hard as she carefully cut a sliver of cake off the back that hadn’t baked evenly, then re-iced the gap and tossed the rejected piece into the box on her cart.

  Rejected.

  Tears pricked despite her efforts, and she blinked rapidly. If she could just hang in there another few minutes . . .

  His footsteps shuffled nearer, nearer, until she could see the shiny leather of his black shoes in her downcast vision. He hadn’t touched her, yet the warmth of his presence seared her. “I was being honest last night, Charlotte—finally, totally honest for the first time in forever—but not like you think. The honesty part came later. You missed it.”

  “How convenient.” She straightened, refusing to listen to his lies anymore. Had he just come over here to defend himself and offer excuses?

  She finished the icing repair, capped the piping bag, and shoved it into the box on her cart. Done. Cake assembled. She could leave. At this point, she didn’t even care if she got paid. She just wanted out. Wanted to go back to safe and secure, even if that meant being alone.

  It had to be better than this.

  “I beg you. Hear me out.” Will reached for her arm, but she dodged his grasp, still avoiding looking at him dead-on, and began pushing her cart away from the cake table.

  “Charlotte?”

  She turned around slowly.

  There he stood, feet braced apart, hands tucked in his pockets, shoving back the corners of his coat to reveal a black bow tie and suspenders. “I love you.”

  He closed the short distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Charlotte. I have since the moment you turned around in that apron and sold me my first snickerdoodle. It’s always been you.”

  She allowed him to hold her, allowed her arms to hold him back. Allowed the tears streaming down her cheeks to pour like rain. But she couldn’t allow her heart to trust.

  “You reminded me what it was to want to live again,” he said. “You inspire me, Charlotte. You make me want to be a better man.”

  She closed her eyes as his words streamed over her. “I felt the same way, Will. You convinced me to trust again. You proved that men weren’t what I thought they were. But then you bailed. At the first sign of conflict, you disowned me.”

  He shook his head. “I’m an idiot, Charlotte.”

  She opened her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that rumor.”

  “Melissa told me she talked to you.”

  She nodded.

  “Charlotte, please believe me. I reacted last night out of fear and frustration. I was wrong.”

  She wanted that to be true. So badly. Her fingers dug into his biceps, holding on for dear life. Afraid any minute she’d have to let go forever.

  “What I hadn’t realized until last night is that I’ve been living my own version of safe. Seeing Melissa on the floor like that, helpless—it brought i
t all back. Her accident, me thinking all these years it was my fault . . .” His voice trailed off. “I snapped. But Melissa’s taught me something that I’m finally starting to let sink in.”

  She felt her heart caving. Softening. Like butter in a mixing bowl. She wanted her hard edge back, but she was losing it. “What’s that?”

  “She’s learned to find the good in the bad. All these years I’ve stayed focused on the bad, afraid to look for good. Afraid I didn’t deserve to find it.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’m a better man now than I was before her accident. I should be living up to that, rather than hiding from it.”

  She searched his eyes. He was telling the truth. “You realized all of that last night?”

  “I told you, you left way too early.” He ran a finger down her cheek. Even with the lingering remnants of anger and hurt, his touch still sent shivers down her spine. “Did you walk home? I called you ten times.”

  “Julie picked me up.” She squinted up at him. “And it was actually a dozen.”

  “Not that you were counting.” He pulled her close, his expression serious once more.

  “Do you forgive me, Charlotte?”

  She hesitated, wanting to be sure. Wanting to know she was safe. She tugged at one of his suspenders.

  “I’m not safe.” He whispered the words, low, close to her lips. “But you know what? You’re not, either. We’ll probably hurt each other again. There are never any real guarantees.”

  That truth sank in hard and deep. She tightened her grip on the suspender strap. He was right. But how could she keep risking her heart over and over?

  His voice deepened an octave as his grip around her waist tightened. “One thing I can guarantee. I love you.”

  She looked at him. “You were wrong about one thing.”

  He eased back, concern spreading across his face. “What’s that?”

  “You most definitely can’t rock a bow tie.”

  “Hey now—”

  She cut off his indignant protest with a kiss, one that lifted her to her tiptoes and quickened his heartbeat beneath her hand.

  She pulled back for a breath. “And by the way . . .”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “I love you too.”

  She reached over, snagged the icing-covered cake remains from the cart, and smashed them straight into his face.

  Then she kissed him.

  He tasted like buttercream.

  1. Charlotte was a single mom convinced God would send her a certain kind of man because of her fears and regrets from the past. Yet when Will came into her life, he was anything but what she expected. Have you ever had God bless you with a desire of your heart that went beyond what you felt you deserved?

  2. Charlotte was living her dream of running her own bakery, while Will was still trying to figure out what to do next after his step down from active military. What would you do career-wise, if you could be guaranteed not to fail?

  3. Will felt responsible for his sister’s accident that made her paralyzed, and he carried that weight to the point of it stifling his own life. Have you ever taken on a burden you weren’t meant to carry? How did you get past it?

  4. Charlotte struggled at one of the wedding showers, having come both as the caterer and as Will’s date. Have you ever been in a social situation that was awkward because of mixed roles or for feeling like you didn’t belong?

  5. Because of her past, Charlotte struggled with jealousy when it came to Will, even though he’d done nothing to give her reason to. Have you ever allowed your insecurities to almost ruin a good thing in your life out of fear or misunderstanding? How did you handle it afterward?

  6. Like Will, Charlotte also struggled with regret and bearing the burden of false guilt, and had to learn how to go to God and be set free from those misconceptions. What misconceptions or false truths are you tempted to believe about yourself?

  Love Arrives in Pieces

  All’s Fair in Love and Cupcakes

  A February Bride: A Year of Weddings Novella

  Betsy St. Amant lives in Louisiana with her young daughter and has a heart for sharing the amazing news of God’s grace through her novels. A freelance journalist, Betsy is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. When she’s not reading, writing, or singing along to a Disney soundtrack with her daughter, Betsy enjoys inspirational speaking and teaching on the craft of writing.

  VISIT HER WEBSITE AT WWW.BETSYSTAMANT.COM

  FACEBOOK: BETSYST.AMANT

  TWITTER: @BETSYSTAMANT

 

 

 


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