I Only Have Pies for You (Pumpkin Spice Life 1)

“What do you think about the bake off?”

“It’s necessary.”

“Why are you hesitating then?”

“I don’t want him to feel like I betrayed his trust.” She dropped her head heavily on the down pillow.

“From everything you’ve told me, your Alaric is an amazing man. I think he’ll get it.”

“I hope so. It’s going to be strained enough as it with us on the opposite sides of the rolling pin. If he’s angry at me, it’s going to be even worse.”

“Sounds to me like your mind is already made up. If you want my opinion, I think you should go for it. One, it’ll be fun as hell. Two, you really do need the publicity and sense of community. You never told me what the prize was.”

“Basically, you become a local celebrity. You get to ride in the parade, light the first bonfire, and have bragging rights for the rest of the year.”

“There’d be no denying you were one of them after this.” The excitement in Julie’s voice caught like a spark to dry kindling, igniting her own.

“I’m already dreaming up potential recipes,” Rosaleen admitted sheepishly. Together, they plotted, and she allowed herself to be swept up in the possibilities.

ALARIC

“I’ll be right back, Mom. I’m going to grab the sheet for you to fill out.”

His mother nodded as she continued her conversation with her friend, Gladys. Moving away from them, he made his way to the table where volunteers provided him with a registration sheet and a list of dishes they’d be preparing this year. He paused on his way when a familiar face caught his eyes.

“Rosaleen?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his and smiled. “Hi.”

“Why are you here?” he asked, confused.

“I’m going to sign up.”

His heart rate sped up. “No. Don’t tell me that,” he groaned.

She lowered her voice, glancing around carefully. “You don’t even want to bake.”

“I know, but ...” he sighed, thinking of his mother; he hadn’t seen her this happy since the accident, “it means everything to my mom.”

“I know. I hadn’t even considered this until last night.”

What happened last night? He opened his mouth to ask.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” His mother’s voice was akin to a record skip.

This is not how I wanted this initial meeting to go. Rosaleen’s eyes widened.

“Of course. Mom, this is Rosaleen Plath. Rosaleen, this is my mom, Joan Bulley.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Bulley.”

“Oh, please, no need to be so formal.” His mother waved her away. “Just call me Joan, dear.”

“All right.” Rosaleen smiled. “I have to say, Alaric’s been a godsend since I moved here.”

“He’s spoken very highly of you,” his mother replied. His face heated. “I wanted to thank you for the box of goodies. They were delicious. “

“Thank you so much. I’m glad you enjoyed them. I was so sorry to hear about your injury.”