Chapter 11

Carl held true to his promise to distract himself, even if only by accident. When he bumped into Possible-Fling-Poppy outside the bakery, particularly hungry after the trip to the beach, Carl thought food sounded like a solid idea.

They went to the eatery across from Under The Raindough, sat at an outside table next to grey tussock in planter boxes, and ordered breakfast tacos for the table off an iPad.

The iPad shifted from ordering mode into five-second-trivia-question-and-answer mode—something to inspire conversation, perhaps—but Carl stared grimly at it.

Poppy misinterpreted his glare for uncertainty, glanced at the question—where is Matiu located—and answered before going on to share other te reo Māori names for areas in Wellington.

As he bit into his first taco, Carl caught sight of Grayson whizzing past on his bike and around the corner towards Jason's villa. Was he due to mow more lawns around there? Or was he heading back to visit?

Carl frowned and shook himself back to the conversation that'd somehow jumped to New Zealand's Great Walks. Another trivia question perhaps? Carl heard as much as ‘Abel Tasman', then spied Grayson pushing his bike back from Carl's road.

Returning so soon and slightly deflated like that... could it mean he had wanted to see Carl?

Something warm fluttered in Carl's stomach. He sat straighter and waved to catch Grayson's attention.

Grayson caught the movement, looked his way, and visibly paused with his bike for a few dark-gazed seconds before he continued towards them.

The table rattled as Carl leapt to his feet. "Grayson!" He gestured to the spare seat at their table, "Join us."

Poppy sighed beside him and a look his way confirmed a grimace.

Grayson locked up his bike and seated himself, adjacent to Carl, opposite Poppy. The air suddenly tensed, and a muscle twitched in both their jaws.

The weirdness from last night returned. Did they have some kind of history? In the kitchen, Grayson had told Carl he shouldn't have come. That he'd told himself not to. That he couldn't help it.

Maybe . . .

But Grayson was Berhampore's heartbreaker. Had he broken Poppy's heart and that led to this strange atmosphere between them? Grayson had been rather dismissive of Poppy's photo at the beach.

But what did it mean that he ‘couldn't help it'? Despite however they'd left things, did Grayson like Poppy?

Was the whole being protective thing an excuse to stop Carl and Poppy getting closer, because Grayson wasn't finished with him yet?

"What are you frowning for?" Grayson asked. Carl quickly threw together a taco and handed it to him.

"I thought you had work."

"I said I wasn't feeling so great. I'll make it up another time."

"You threw a sickie?"

Grayson looked at him, their gazes connecting. The softness in those pools of black had Carl's stomach jumping so hard he almost hiccupped.

"I had more important things to do today."

Don't think those important things are related to you.There could be plenty of things Grayson wanted to do. Perhaps after checking in on Carl at the villa, he'd always intended to catch Poppy...

Poppy cleared his throat, and Carl swung his head around to eyes that were suctioned intently on Grayson. Too intently. Like Poppy had unfinished business there too. Carl didn't like it.

He slapped together another taco. "Poppy," he said, drawing the man's attention away from Grayson. He smiled and placed the taco on Poppy's plate, then put his elbow on the table and propped his chin on it, cutting into some of Poppy's view of Grayson. He even fluttered puppy-dog eyes. "Taste good?"

Poppy smiled brightly and tried to fling Grayson another look; Carl intercepted with a hand reaching for the iPad of trivia. "History questions." He ignored the lurch in his stomach and continued distracting the two from intensely gazing at one another. "Who was the first human to travel into space?"

They answered simultaneously. "Yuri Gagarin."

"Wow," Carl murmured under his breath. These guys really had history. Light a match and something would start burning here.

"Bet I can answer five before you can," Poppy said, goading Grayson.

Grayson looked at Carl. "Go on."

Yay. Great. Wonderful. He'd intended to distract them from flirting and now he was conducting it.

He forced up a smile and surreptitiously jabbed the screen to ‘difficult' questions.

"Poppy: In the fifteenth century BC, who was the first female pharaoh of ancient Egypt?"

"Hatshepsut."

"Grayson: Who was the first female physician in Japan, who made huge contributions to public health and education in the 19th and 20th centuries?"

"Ogino Ginko."

"Poppy: What Russian mystic and faith healer was advisor to the Romanov family and murdered in 1916?"

"Rasputin."

"Grayson: In 480BC, although vastly outnumbered, the Athenians defeated a Persian fleet and altered the course of the Greco-Persian Wars. What was the name of that battle?"

"The Battle of Salamis."

Their answers continued, quick and correct. Grayson got particularly obscure questions, to Carl's mind, and hadn't batted an eye before answering.

. . . "The Righteous and Harmonious Fists, known as the Boxers."

Carl blinked at him. This had to be why the Green Gruffs thought they'd win Quiz Night. Yikes.

A bubbly "Yoo-hoo" had all three of them jerking their gazes to Sage, hair tucked into a net; she jogged across the road to their table with a bright smile and a wave.

"I'm after a wee bit of help at the bakery, I wondered—"

"Helping? I love helping!" Sage, you absolute saviour. Get him away from this weird flirting. He jumped to his feet.

The two idiots either side of him did not take up the opportunity to bond one on one. They rose swiftly from their chairs. "Of course I'll help," Grayson said, while Poppy said, "Helping is my middle name."

"Wonderful," Sage exclaimed with a happy clap.

Poppy charged eagerly over the road with Sage; Grayson started a quick stride too, but Carl grabbed him by the elbow, holding him back. "Stay with me a sec."

Grayson, bless him, obliged immediately.

"I really have to thank you," Carl murmured.

"Thank me?"

"When you talked earlier in the ute about intellect not equalling attraction, it got me thinking maybe you had a point, and now—" he gestured to the table and the trivia still flashing on the iPad. "After that show. I really believe it."

Grayson rubbed a palm over his jaw. "Not even a little attraction?"

"God, no."

Carl headed across the road and after a moment Grayson moved as well, catching up beside him. "What would be attractive?"

"Good question. Not sure. But I'd be far more turned on by a guy showcasing some physical skill." The image of Grayson mowing the neighbour's yard shirtless flittered to mind. Carl gave himself a little slap on the cheek to keep his thoughts clear as Grayson got the door.

Inside, the bakery was empty of customers but full of delicious scents. One glance into the kitchen showed two tables of un-iced cupcakes. Poppy was leaning against the counter umming and ahhing over a tray of pink and blue frosted ones. Sage stood opposite him, gnawing on her bottom lip, and in the corner by the windows Leo was messing around on an iPad and hadn't noticed them come in.

Grayson sidled up to the counter beside Carl, and Carl groaned. Once again he'd become the third wheel between these two guys with history. He trained his gaze on Sage, who caught his eye with a nervous twinkle in her own. "I'm doing a practice run for the charity event. I wanted to make the cupcakes special to the occasion, but I'm not sure I like these."

Carl stared at the beautiful, classic-style cupcakes sprinkled with tiny silver balls.

"These look wonderful."

"I wouldn't waste your time trying to please those mothers," said Grayson.

Sage looked between them all and landed on Carl. "What do you think?"

Carl thought... he understood why it was important to Sage to prove to the witches she was worthy of being on the volunteer team. To show she had what it took, not for them to dismiss her abilities. For that, Sage wanted cupcakes that stood out. That said ‘I can organise things as well as you can'. "What if they were iced in the school uniform colours? Green and yellow?"

"Ohhh, that would be brilliant," Poppy said immediately.

Even Grayson was nodding.

Carl side-eyed the two flanking him and shifted in the weird air between them. They seemed to be gazing in his direction, as if trying to see each other through him.

Before he could step back, Sage reached over the counter and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Great idea. You. You'll be the ultimate judge." She swung her gaze between her cousin and Grayson. "You two, add colouring to the icing, fill the piping bags, and do three designs each. The winning one will be used for the event." She waved a hand at all the cupcakes behind her. "We can practice on these."

"That's an awful lot of practice," Carl murmured.

Sage grinned. "The volunteers and teachers will practice eating them for morning tea. Let's get this done." She laughed. "See which of you bakers is best."

"You bake as well?" Carl asked Poppy.

A slick smile tipped his lips. "I come from a family of bakers. I grew up icing cupcakes." Poppy threw Grayson quite the look of challenge. "I'm a master."

Grayson shoved up his sleeves and threw Poppy an apron, hairnet and gloves; Poppy caught them hard against his chest with a laugh.

Sage sidled around the counter to join Carl as the guys fussed around adding dye to the icing. She talked a steady stream into her phone—lists of ingredients, reminders of things to do that morning. At Carl's quizzical look, she showed him her screen of notes. "Voice to text. Saves time and typos."

Carl played around with it, speaking into the phone and watching his words appear on the screen. "That's kind of brilliant." He scrolled down the list Sage had curated and paused. "Uh, you have to deliver the cupcakes at the same time you have a doctor's appointment?"

She winced and plucked the phone from him. "I didn't put in a reminder." Her shoulders slumped and her nervous excitement fizzled. "Silly me. I wanted to take part in the meeting. Show I'm reliable. But I also really need that appointment..."

Carl felt his chest sort of puff up in sympathy. Here Sage was, doing her absolute best—totally able to pull this off—and now those witches would have the smug satisfaction of having their assumptions about her failings confirmed. That was... frustrating. It sparked in him the same kind of feelings as ‘Dead End' did.

He banged a fist on the counter, making Sage's first cupcakes jump. "How long's your appointment? Where?"

"Fifteen minutes. It's always on time too, and just down the road. I'd only be 20 minutes late but those mums..."

"Let me help?"

"You would? How?"

"You'd have to set up the cupcakes in the hall kitchen first, right? I'll do that part, and I'll stall them from starting the meeting until twenty past."

"They'll wonder why I'm not in the kitchen."

"So you disappeared to the toilet for a minute. Or you're grabbing more cupcakes from the car. I could even..." Carl leaned in and whispered an idea in her ear.

Sage cracked up laughing. "You're kidding. You'd do that?"

"Why not?"

"You have to be one of the kindest guys I've ever met. To do that. For me?"

How happy this idea made her. Made Carl more eager to do it. "Then it's a deal?"

"I can help you pull it off if we head across to my place after this?"

Carl looked back into the kitchen at Poppy and Grayson facing off across a table as they pressed icing through bags onto their cupcakes. The tension was so thick he reckoned even the baker's knife would have trouble cutting through it. "We could go right now if you like?"

Sage laughed, tipping her chin up with delight. "They really are putting on a show, aren't they? Don't you find it amusing?"

Carl rubbed his jaw. "I don't understand the need to flex their insanely toned biceps like this. They're icing cupcakes."

Poppy blew dusted icing sugar off his bulging muscle towards them in a fine spray. Grayson's eyes narrowed hard on the show. That was... a lot of attention he was paying. An envious shiver rippled through Carl, despite telling himself it shouldn't matter.

He pinched himself to his senses and focused with all his might on their cupcakes—biceps—cupcakes!

Sage giggled. "I've got a feeling Poppy will win this."

Poppy smirked and threw them a wink.

"Win what?" The curious voice startled Carl and he shifted, letting Leo squeeze between them. "Mum, you're so wrong. Grayson all the way."

"You're my favourite kid for a reason, Leo," Grayson said. His gaze slid to Carl's.

"Choose Grayson," Leo whispered, while Sage giggled and said, "Say Poppy."

"I think..." Carl snapped his gaze from Grayson to Poppy and back again. "I'll judge by the cupcakes. Come on then." Get this over and done with. "Show me what you've got."

With a twist and a swivel of their bags, they squeezed out icing and set the first cupcake before the three of them. Leo, of course, voted for Grayson's. Sage, Poppy's. Which left Carl with the deciding vote. The cupcakes were equally great. One green, one yellow, Poppy's with a chocolate swirl, and Grayson's with chocolate bits.

"Both have me drooling?" Carl said and the hopeful gazes riveted on Carl turned on each other with purpose. They dusted their gloved hands, rolled their shoulders, and raced to decorate the next.

These second cupcakes were outrageous. There was more icing than cupcake. Grayson used chocolate to draw stick figures of children around the edges, while Poppy drew waves, which Carl assumed was for the pool the donations would go towards.

The last cupcakes... took the cake. In fact, neither cupcake could be seen under the elaborate wedding-cake-esque icing arrangements. In Grayson's hands green icing had turned into intricate leaves upon which sat not one but three fully bloomed yellow flowers. Poppy's cupcake turned into a ball upon which a tiny icing pupil sat eating... a cupcake.

Carl couldn't help but rub his forehead as he stared at the insanity before him. These guys are something else.

He went right back to their first attempts and tapped his finger before the plates. "Half like this and half like that. Pretty and practical."

"We both win?" Poppy said, disappointed.

Carl blinked between boys and baked goods. "Winning would be putting it optimistically."

A little laugh leapt out of Grayson and he straightened his hair net. "Let's get icing then."

Carl checked the time. They needed to work fast now. "I'm heading to Sage's place for a few minutes. Can you have them done by the time we get back?"

Carl had barely finished speaking before the next stage of this flirtation began. He couldn't get outside fast enough. He shook himself in a much welcome breeze. If he should ever behave so foolishly...

Like swapping lives with your twin and pretending to be him on multiple occasions? Or what you're about to do for Sage?

Okay, then.

These guys might in fact be his crowd. What was a little foolishness in the grand scheme of things?

He nodded to himself, followed Sage to her place, and quickly rummaged together the things he needed. When they returned to the bakery, it was to a flurry of movement as Poppy and Grayson competed to finish their last half-row of cupcakes.

Leo glanced at them and did a double take. "Mum? Jason? Why are you..."

Finally with a "Ha! I win" from Poppy, two other sets of eyes landed on them and blinked. Hard. Grayson set down his piping bag, wiped his hands on his silver apron, and slunk towards them, eyes roaming up and down Carl's length. "Why are you both wearing the same dress?"

Carl and Sage did a twirl showing off their identical wraparound dresses. Carl's shorts and t-shirt fit nicely under it, which would make getting out of costume take a matter of seconds. "Poppy, throw us some hairnets?"

Sage added, "And face masks. There're some under the counter."

With the nets completely covering their hair and the face masks on, at a glance—and a glance was all that would be needed—they looked rather similar. They were even the same height.

"Is there a particular purpose for this getup?" Grayson asked, eyebrows still up around his hairline.

Carl snuck over to him and whispered in his ear. "Will you help me? If the mums ask where ‘Sage' is, vaguely point in my direction and tell them I'll join the meeting in a jiffy?"

"If he won't help, I will," Poppy said, shooting a pick-me hand in the air.

Grayson grabbed the neck of Carl's wraparound dress and squared it neatly over his t-shirt. "I'm familiar with both the school and these mums. I'll do it. You hold the fort here with all your baking experience."

Leo kept looking between Carl and his laughing mum; Sage swatted him gently over the back of the head, turning it into a fond rub that had Carl swallowing.

He shook off the sudden tender longing, but not before Grayson caught a glimmer of it. He seemed to understand in a glance. Carl shot into the kitchen, in case Grayson murmured anything reasonable in his ear. He was in a volatile mood this morning, and he didn't want to appear any more foolish than he already was.

"Let's get this show on the road."