Wedding Cake Wishes (8 page)

“Sounds interesting.”

“It's the best.”

She shook her head. “And you think you know someone.”

Logan didn't look back at her, but he could feel her gaze on him.

“Do you miss it?” she asked.

“Well, sure, but here is where I need to be right now. Mom needs me.”

“You gave up a lot to be here.”

Strange, she'd said things like this before, but for the first time, he believed she really meant her praise. He couldn't help feeling flattered by it. “Not as much as my mother has always given up for me. Anyway, it'll only be for a while.”

She nodded though her eyes were filled with doubt. He'd been having some doubts himself, but he couldn't say them aloud. That would be admitting he was giving up, and there was no way he would give up on his mother's recovery.

“In the meantime, I think it's great how hard you're working to learn your mother's business.”

“I've definitely learned that violet is the new pink in bridesmaids' dresses.” He flipped to an article with a headline saying that exact thing and turned the magazine around so she could take a look. “And that the majority of wedding cakes are made with fon
dant now though my mother still prefers to work with buttercream frosting.”

He pointed to the cover of a second magazine where a bridal shower cake was shaped to look like a blue purse, complete with dark blue stitching accents.

“Those are both very important wedding business tidbits.”

“I'm going to learn a lot more here.” Pulling out a community education brochure he'd stacked on the bottom of the pile of magazines, he pointed to a class description.

“Cake decorating? Are you thinking about taking that class?”

“Depends on whether you'll make fun of me about it.”

Caroline folded her arms and frowned at him. “Are you telling me that you would let my opinion determine whether you take a class you're interested in?”

He shook his head, grinning. “Never said that. I just figured if you're going to make fun of me about it, I won't
tell you
I'm already registered for that class. I'm not trying to become a decorator or anything. I just want to have a basic knowledge of the lingo and the skills.”

“Well, good, then.” She smiled back at him. “You would have disappointed me if you caved in so easily.”

“Wouldn't want to do that.”

As soon as he said it, Logan realized how true it was. He didn't want to disappoint Caroline any more than he wanted to let down his mother. That it mattered so much to him what she thought was just another signal that he needed to put some space between them. Otherwise, he might be tempted to care about more than her opinions.
He couldn't risk becoming involved with her unless he wanted to find out if he was really like his father and take a chance at hurting her. Ignorance was bliss, and he needed to embrace it.

For a few minutes, they sat across from each other, both flipping through magazine articles without the need for conversation. He glanced up when Caroline cleared her throat.

“I don't know what you'll think about this, but would you mind if I took that class with you?”

“Do you really want to?”

“I mean, I don't even know if I can still register, but…”

Her words fell away as she looked to him, waiting for some kind of response. She probably thought he was hesitating because he was worried that she was looking for another way to run the show at the bakery. How could he tell her he was torn between wanting to stay as far away from her as possible and finding any excuse to be near her?

“It sounds like great idea to me,” he said finally.

A chill scrambled up his spine as he anticipated studying with her. He needed to make more excuses to spend time
away
from her, not
near
her.

Battling his attraction to her felt like swimming upstream in river rapids, and he was tired, but, worse than that, part of him was tempted to turn and swim with the current right to a woman who might not even want him.

“A
re you sure they're supposed to look like this?”

Caroline started at the sound of Logan's voice, but she still managed to keep the rosette she'd been forming close to the same size as its sister flowers on the wax paper in front of her. It was tough enough concentrating with him sitting right next to her without him interrupting her all the time.

“What's wrong now?”

She expected to see a splat of frosting on his sheet of wax paper like the mess Logan had made after he'd first tried out the pastry bag, but she what she found shocked her. Three perfect rows of rosettes lined one side of the paper and scallop edging with uniform peaks decorated the other side.

“All those wildlife surveys had to teach me something,” he said with a chuckle.

“It looks like they did, but obviously creating five-year business plans didn't help me out at all.”

His pastry bag in his hand, Logan took a step toward her and bent to get a better look at her work that suddenly appeared sloppier than she'd first thought.

“Gives you a lot more respect for what Margie and Kamie do, doesn't it?” he said.

She studied her work again, frowning. “That bad, huh? And I thought I was helping
you
out so much by coming to work in the bakery. You don't need my help at all. Didn't even in the beginning.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn't have survived that first day without your help. But I'll never admit I said that, even under torture, so don't bother telling my brothers.”

“Thanks, and I'll remember it's our secret.” She grinned at both the image of Logan braving torture and his confession about needing her help. She appreciated knowing she was needed somewhere.

“Don't worry. With a little practice, we'll both get good at this.” He indicated the rosettes in front of him.

“If you get better, you'll be on the cover of
American Cake Decorating.
”

“Now I wouldn't go that far,” he said, though he seemed pleased by her praise.

Caroline went back to squeezing her pastry bag, carefully shifting her wrist so she could form the pink petals of the rosette. It was the best one she'd made so far. Maybe Logan was right about practice.

She was glad they'd signed up for this class together, even if she'd had to invite herself to join him. She enjoyed spending time with Logan. Was that a crime? And if she'd happened to join him a few times this week when he was working late at the bakery, that wasn't some telling statement, either.

He was one of the few people their age she knew in Markston, besides their siblings, and she was tired of
feeling like a fifth wheel with the two couples. With Logan, she just laughed and had fun. There was something to be said for that.

Glancing back over to him, she found him bent over his practice sheet, concentrating as he used his pastry bag to form another scalloped edge.

“Did you let the decorators know we were taking this class?” she asked as she watched him.

His wrist shifted, messing up his masterpiece, but he only looked over, amused. “No. Why? Did you tell them?”

“Not me. I figured that was up to you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He started at the top again, tracing a smooth line of peaks and valleys. “I haven't told anyone yet. Not my mom. Especially not my brothers. They would have a heyday with it.”

“If they're not proud of you for being this proactive over your work with the bakery, then they're wrong.”

She didn't realize how forcefully she'd spoken until their instructor, who was moving about the room and giving suggestions, looked at her in surprise. She sensed that Logan was watching her, too, though she couldn't bring herself to look at him to know for sure. How could she explain to him why she'd placed herself squarely in his corner when she didn't know the answer herself?

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Can you believe there are only two more Saturdays, and we'll have survived June madness?”

“That's amazing,” she said, though she found she wasn't looking forward to the end of June with as much enthusiasm as she had at first. It felt more like a deadline now than a goal.

For a few minutes, neither spoke as they focused on
their practice sheets, but when Caroline glanced up, she caught Logan watching her work. At least she thought it was her work. Or was he just watching her?

“Doing a good job,” he said but quickly looked away.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she said to fill the awkward moment. “You could just keep quiet about this class until the week of Dylan and Jenna's wedding, and then you could be the one to decorate their cake.”

He laughed out loud at that. “Pretty ambitious, don't you think?”

“You could do it.”

As soon as she said it, Caroline realized how true her words were. Logan could do anything he wanted. That wasn't something that had changed since she'd returned to Markston, either. He'd always been so much more than the funny guy everyone knew so well. Intelligent. Capable. Too intuitive for his own good. She'd just been like the others in failing to notice his many qualities.

“Maybe…but I'll be too busy with all of my amazing best man duties to have time to use my
delicious
cake-decorating skills, as well.”

“Fine then. I'll let you off the hook.”

“Thanks.”

When he grinned at her, she smiled back, but then he suddenly leaned toward her, his gaze connecting with hers, and she could only sit frozen, waiting. Was he really going to kiss her right there in front of a whole class of future cake decorators?

But Logan only brushed his thumb across her cheek, coming away with a clump of icing. She blinked as he pulled his hand back, leaving a tingling place at the side of her mouth where his callused skin had touched her.

“You had this,” he said, showing her the small glob in his palm.

“Oh” was all she could say though she sounded like an idiot. What had she been thinking, anyway? When she jumped to a wrong conclusion, she took a flying leap. But this was worse than that. More than mistaking his plan to kiss her, she'd wanted him to do it and had been disappointed when he hadn't.

“Thank you,” she finally managed. “I remember on our family trip to Gatlinburg, Matthew and I had the job of scrubbing faces for you and Haley. Now that was a big job.”

“I guess I should thank you, then.”

Hearing annoyance in his voice, she slid a glance his way, but he was staring at the front of the class. Their instructor stood near the whiteboard, demonstrating another skill, using a smaller decorating tip.

“With practice, all of you will become skilled at making rosettes, and creating scalloped edges will be as automatic to you as driving,” the woman told them. “But it is also going to be equally important that you develop a steady hand for piping designs and for writing.”

Caroline followed the instructions, but she couldn't help thinking of a different hand than those with which she worked. This particular hand was close enough to touch if she decided to stretch.

She straightened in her seat as she switched the tip on her pastry bag. What was happening to her? Could she really be developing feelings for Logan Warren? That couldn't be possible, could it? What happened to him being too young, too unambitious…too everything?

Of course she didn't have feelings for Logan. They were just friends. Anyway, did she have no more sense
of self-preservation than to even consider becoming involved with a ladies' man?

Caroline pushed away the thoughts that were getting out of hand. She'd gone from imagining that Logan wanted to kiss her to creating other ideas that were equally unfathomable. She could think of only one reason this might be happening. She hadn't been kissed in so long that her romantic instincts had gone into a coma. They'd picked an unfortunate moment to awaken.

Now she had to sing those faulty instincts a lullaby before she did something really unwise like letting Logan know about the crazy things she was feeling. Or worse yet, asking him to kiss her.

 

Logan followed Caroline out the door and down the steps from the old bank that had been transformed into the Markston Community Education building. From around the corner, he could see the glow from the streetlamps that lined Washington Street.

“Hey, what's the hurry?” he said when he caught up with her on the sidewalk that led to the lighted parking area.

“Oh…I wasn't,” she began, but then she slowed her pace. “I was just thinking about getting home.”

“Did you forget that I drove?”

“Right.”

He was glad he'd insisted on driving this time and had brought his old Ford pickup that he usually only drove when it wasn't motorcycle weather. Otherwise, Caroline already would have taken off like the rest of their classmates had.

She'd been acting strangely since he'd wiped the
frosting off her face, so he wanted to get the chance to apologize. If she'd known that he'd really been considering kissing that frosting right off her cheek, she might have been relieved he'd only cleaned her up instead.

“Hey, sorry about that thing with the frosting. I just didn't want you to be embarrassed later when you realized you had it on your face.”

“I appreciated you telling me.”

She looked across the parking lot to his truck as if she couldn't wait to leave.

“Next week will be fun, don't you think?” he said. “We'll get to do the crumb coat and everything.”

She looked back at him, seeming to finally relax. “Mine will probably look like the rocky side of a mountain when I'm through with it.”

“Even ugly cakes taste good in my book.”

She'd started toward the truck again, but she glanced back at him. “Don't ever let your mom hear you say that.”

“That wouldn't go over too well, would it?”

Logan caught up with her as she reached the truck, but he found that he wasn't ready to go home, or at least to take Caroline back to her mother's house. He wasn't prepared to analyze his hesitancy other than to say that she was his friend. He couldn't go through his whole life without some of those.

He stared up at the sky, stalling. “It's such a nice night. Do you want to take a walk downtown or something?”

Caroline put her hand on the truck door handle instead. “I really should be getting home.”

“Looking forward to more time on your mom's sofa?”
It wasn't fair for him to push one of her hot buttons to get her to stay, but he couldn't resist.

Her hand fell to her side as she turned to face him. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“Should I be offended by your lack of enthusiasm?”

Caroline shook her head. “I'm just a little tired. But you're right. It's a perfect night for a walk. Besides, if I go home earlier, I'll just be trying sooner to get a turn in the bathroom while Jenna's in there applying another one of her invigorating face masks.”

“She does stuff like that?” He gestured for her to lead the way, but instead of following, he fell into step next to her. He tried to ignore the impulse to take her hand as they walked. Was that what he usually wanted to do when he was with his friends? Even really close friends?

“Remember Jenna? She's the queen of shoppers and guinea pig for every new face cream or eye-popping mascara.” Caroline passed the first of the downtown shops, glancing in a store window filled with various styles of walking shoes.

“You don't use a lot of that makeup stuff, do you?”

She chuckled but didn't look back at him as they passed a second store. This one had antique and modern, digital cameras in the window. “As little as I can get by with.”

“You don't need any at all.”

“You're my friend. You have to say that.”

The truth was that as her friend he shouldn't have noticed, so he was grateful she hadn't taken him seriously. Or at least if she had, she'd played it off like a pro.

Farther up the street, they approached Markston
Bridal, and she paused to look at the two mannequins, a bride in a froufrou wedding gown and a groom in a black tuxedo.

“Dylan and I are supposed to rent our monkey suits from here,” he said. “Are you and Jenna getting your getups here, too?”

“It
is
the only bridal shop in town,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the mannequin's gown. “Remember last year when Haley had her gown and our bridesmaids' dresses up for consignment sale here after the broken engagement?”

“But then Matthew made sure Haley and the rest of you made good use of them.” He watched her for several long seconds until she started fidgeting.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, still staring at the window.

“I was just wondering how you feel about being in the wedding.”

“You asked me that before. Remember, I told you I was worried they were rushing—”

“I mean how do you
really
feel about it with your being antimarriage and all?”

She did look up this time. “Where did you get the idea that I'm antimarriage?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe all those speeches you gave Haley about not needing a man in her life after that guy broke off their engagement. And your idea to have a ‘single-gal shower' since there was no way you were going down any aisle.”

“How do you…”

When her words trailed off as she answered her own question, he grinned. “Remember, our moms talk. A lot.”

“How could I ever forget. But for the record, I'm not
antimarriage. It just isn't for everyone. For example, someone as career-focused as I am.”

“Wow. Some guy must have really done a number on you.”

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. If looks could kill, that one would have at least left a mark. “Why is it that when people see a bachelor, they assume it's by choice, and then any happily single woman must have been wronged by some man?”