Chapter 38

38

Annika

I set fire to the cupcakes again.

I set fire to them, and they're exploding like lava out of a volcano, spewing glitter and candy eyeballs across the kitchen, which is currently in the inside of a palace with walls made of licorice, and the Queen of England is laughing in the corner with Mama's imaginary python while?—

" Stop ," I gasp, sitting straight up.

My skin is sticky, my bedroom walls are nylon, and— "Camping," I mutter to myself.

I'm camping.

With Grady.

Except he's not in the tent—though his shirt is on the ground next to me—and I smell wood smoke.

Not flaming cupcakes.

"Annika?" He peers into the tent, Sue right behind him. "You okay?"

I brush my hair out of my face and realize I'm nearly naked. "What time is it?"

"Five-thirty. You want banana boats for breakfast? Or eggs? I can whip up some eggs."

I blink slowly at him. "Did we have sex last night?"

He grins, and gah , those dimples are killer first thing in the morning. "No."

"Is today Sunday?"

His grin gets bigger, his dimples deeper. "Yes."

"Did we cuddle?"

"You threw me over for Sue."

I know he's teasing, but I really want to know.

"See that pillow?" he asks, pointing across the tent.

I squint. I know that pillow.

"You were sleeping there when I crawled in here last night."

And I ended up here.

Which shouldn't be surprising, since I can wreak havoc on a king-size bed all by myself. "I'm…a loud sleeper."

His brows furrow for a minute, then his grin comes back. "Not as much as you might think," he tells me. "And you're going to dash out of here in three seconds, aren't you?"

"Ohmygod! Yes."

Five-thirty.

He said it's five-thirty . Bailey and Mama will be at the bakery, and we have got to schedule a down day once a week, because none of us can keep working these hours.

I throw back the sleeping bag, realize I'm in just my bra and panties, and then shriek and cover myself again.

Sue bleats at me. Grady ducks his head and grins, then scoots out the tent door. "One banana boat to go, coming right up," he tells me. "Where'd you tell Bailey you were going?"

"To get in touch with my Army roots eating tree bark and pissing in the bushes. Her friend Adriana's mom stayed over in my room last night."

I yank on my shirt, realize it's not my shirt, but Grady's Crow's Nest T-shirt, and I grunt to myself while I rip it back off, sniff it, sniff it again, and then debate stealing it, because it smells like cupcakes and campfire and Grady.

He wouldn't notice if I shoved it down my pants for the walk back up to my car, would he?

And if he did notice, would he care?

I shimmy into my shorts and decide that Bailey would care when she found it stuffed in my pillowcase, and so I give up my dreams of sleeping with Grady's scent and yank on my own old Army T-shirt.

I pull on my hiking boots and slide out of the tent as he pulls a skillet of scrambled eggs off the fire.

"Those aren't banana boats."

"Or cereal," he agrees. "You must be special to get the egg treatment. Coffee?"

I can't say yes. I have to go.

But coffee.

With Grady.

Over eggs.

Before banana boats.

I pull out my phone and text Bailey. Overslept. How's the bakery?

I get a text message back in four seconds.

It's a picture of the kitchen, with Roger running the fryer, Mama rolling cookie dough, and Adriana and her mom frosting cupcakes.

Guilt eats the rest of the lining of my stomach.

Go eat more tree bark. We've got this. And you better not have actually snuck out to sleep with that Rock shithead, Bailey adds.

I wince, then turn around and snap a selfie of myself with the lake in the background, hair a mess, with no goats, Grady, or camping gear to be seen.

Just me and the bugs and the fish , I type.

I erase it and re-type it seven times before I finally hit send.

"I hate lying," I tell Grady as I settle on a log next to the campfire.

"Because you're a good person."

"Your line is it's not for much longer, Annika, and then I'll charm your family and you'll charm mine and this stupid war between Shipwreck and Sarcasm will melt into nothingness and we'll all laugh and eat ice cream while both of our bakeries thrive because they're built with love ."

He grins over his eggs. "That's a beautiful sentiment."

Which isn't a yes, Annika, of course that's what we'll do .

Of course it's not.

As far as he's concerned, this is just reunited friends with benefits.

He'd have to be insane to want more with me right now.

Plus, it's all that I've told him I want. I'm high maintenance. I don't have time for a relationship. I can't even stay awake for ten minutes to have sex with you in a tent .

I'm a disaster.

So maybe I need to quit riding the crazy train while I'm around him, and then I'll get to keep having the occasional sleepover that ends with these eggs.

"Hey. We'll get there. Eventually. Okay?"

"What did you put in these? Crack and cheese?"

"Butter. Lots and lots of butter. And my secret spice mix."

"Tell me it's not marijuana."

He chokes on his eggs and keeps laughing through a coughing fit.

"That's not a no ," I point out.

Sue plops on his haunches next to me and lays a head on my shoulder, staring forlornly at my breakfast plate.

"Don't look at me, buddy. When I fry eggs, they come out of the pan tasting like raw tuna."

"You," Grady rasps out, pointing at me with one hand while he pounds his other fist into his breastbone. "Stop talking."

"He has an overdeveloped sense of humor," I murmur to Sue. "Because I'm clearly not that funny."

He doesn't need the Heimlich, so there's not much I can do beyond keeping an eye on him and continuing to eat his orgasmic eggs.

Is there any food he can't turn to magic?

I sip the coffee, and yep.

Also orgasmic.

"Forget the bakery," I tell him. "I'm moving to this tent, and you can just make me eggs and banana boats and coffee every day for the rest of my life."

I blink, then blink again as my eyes get hot, because I'm realizing I don't want to go to the bakery today.

And that makes me feel so horribly guilty, because Bailey and Mama need me.

There'll be plenty of time for what I want after what they need .

Mama didn't ask to go blind. I can't do this. I can't put my little whines ahead of her just because it's been a few days since I've had a break.

And I had a break. I had a break just last night. And the night before.

A really good break.

Sue licks my ear.

Grady slips to my side on the log and pulls me close. "Running too hard," he says into my hair.

"I can sleep when I'm dead."

He snorts. "The Army was not good for you."

"My hardship discharge paperwork came through."

"On a Sunday morning?"

"No. Thursday. I've—I've been in denial. Because I don't know if I can run a bakery for the rest of my life, and now I don't have the one other thing I was good at. God, I sound like such a selfish cow."

"You are not a selfish cow. For one, you walked away from your own life to take care of your family. And for two, your moo is terrible."

" What? "

"Remember that year we went to the state fair and every time you saw a cow, you were like, ppppprrrrreeewwww ?"

He trumpets like an elephant, and I snort-laugh through my tears. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, no. Don't play the I don't remember card. It was after freshman year, and those kids from Snyderville were all my goat is better than your chicken and you turned around and told them all that our elephant would kick their goat-riding chickens into the next county?"

Oh, shit.

I did do that.

That was a fun day. Cotton candy. Fair rides. Pretending the animals could talk to each other and making up conversations in the barn.

Cooper telling everyone who would listen that he was a cherry pie master and they needed to go to the food tent, even though it was Grady's cherry pie that won a blue ribbon.

God, I missed their whole family.

And now they hate me.

"I must've had one too many Red Bulls that day," I tell him.

"Or you're just fun to be around, and we have all kinds of good memories from high school."

"I don't want to go back to the bakery today," I whisper.

"So stay. Sue and I are just hanging out for a few more hours. Fishing. Swimming. Fantasizing about your breasts. You're welcome to join us."

"I don't think I'll be fantasizing about my own breasts."

"You should. They're spectacular."

Twigs crack behind us, and his head whips around. "Oh, shit. I think that's my mom," he whispers.

I don't think.

I just dive for the tent.

Sue maas indignantly.

And I have a split second of thinking what the FUCK am I doing hiding from Grady's mom? when I hear her voice.

"Grady? Hey, honey. I wasn't sure I'd find you here."

"You're up early."

His shadow moves to give her a hug, and I smile.

He still loves his mom.

That's so sweet.

But I'm the enemy.

That's not so sweet.

Sue paws at the tent.

Grady grabs his collar and drags him away. "You want some eggs?" he asks.

Mrs. Rock stops. "Is that—why do you have two plates?"

Haha, Ma, funny story—I'm madly in love with Annika, I always have been, and I'm moving to Sarcasm to help her until her mama's adjusted like the specialists all say she will.

I grab the pillow and stifle my sigh in it while he replies, "One for Sue."

"You spoil that goat so much." I can hear her smile, and it makes me want to smile too.

And then I want to sob, because she used to like me.

Before I tried to steal the banana pudding crown.

"What's up?" Grady asks his mom.

"Your grandfather got a call from that reporter in Copper Valley—the one you had a crush on when you were a teenager?"

"Thanks, Ma. Needed that memory this morning."

"She got wind of your bakery war with the Williamses and wants to cover it. Pop suggested a bake-off with celebrity judges over at the retreat center. A live competition. Star Knightly loved the idea, but she wants a neutral location."

"Ah, that's…great," Grady says.

"I don't know if that Duh-Nuts crew has agreed to it yet, but they'd be silly not to. Think of the publicity."

"Yeah," he says slowly.

And I wait.

I wait for him to call it off. While I cower and hide from his mom in a tent not seven feet away.

We're both hot messes, aren't we?

" Maaaa! " Sue yells.

"Mind your manners, young man," Mrs. Rock says.

Sue snorts.

Pretty sure the goat's telling us all we're being idiots.

He's not wrong.

"Star at the news station needs an answer by noon, and you weren't answering your phone."

"I—we'll pack up and think about it," Grady tells her.

"Don't think too long. Your sister's internet shopping for a new dress, and Georgia's plotting an improvement to your banana pudding donuts."

" What ? Those are fu—freaking perfect just as they are."

"They could be prettier. Those Duh-Nuts girls know how to make a pretty pastry. You don't want to fall behind."

"Ma—"

"I always liked Annika, but she's still a Sarcasm asshole. Can't change where you come from. And she stole your sister's banana pudding recipe."

I stifle a groan.

"I'm going to go walk around the lake. Such a lovely morning for it. Who's a good goat? Who's a good goat who wants to go on a walk with Grandma?"

"Ma," Grady sighs.

"What? You're not giving me real grandchildren, and I can't walk your sister's fish."

"You could put it in a wagon. Bowl and all."

"And your grandfather's parrot would decide to be pescatarian for the day. Foul-mouthed bird. Hmm. We'll have to keep it away from the reporters. Bye, honey. I'll bring my grand-goat back in a bit."

I stay in the tent with the pillow over my face until I hear the door zipper a minute later.

"Sorry," Grady says, offering me a hand to help me out of the tent. "She needs a new hobby."

"What are we doing?" I ask him.

"Camping."

"Grady."

He swipes a hand over his face. "We're using our rivalry to make your bakery more profitable while getting to know each other again without any pressure."

"That wasn't pressure?"

"Without open hostility," he corrects. "The Shipwreck-Sarcasm thing…they'll get over it. Eventually. It's just been like this for so long?—"

"Yeah. I get it." I shake my hand loose. "Thanks for breakfast. I need to get back to Bailey and Mama. Especially if news crews are calling."

"Annika. We don't have to say yes."

"Yes, we do. We're at war, aren't we?"

He winces.

But he doesn't call off the war .

He might as well be doubling down.

"I have a plan," he tells me.

"I don't want a plan , Grady. I want a life ." I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut, then push up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I'll talk to you later. Gotta go. Before your mother sees me."

Once more, he doesn't say screw my family, you're important too .

Nope.

So I head up to my car.

And drive back to Sarcasm.

Where I do the exact same thing I'm pissed at him about.

I pretend he's the enemy.

We are such a hot mess.