Chapter Eight
Lexi
Bells jingle on the bakery door as Brady opens it for me. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all. The warm air inside the building smells delicious as aromas of cinnamon, vanilla, and baking bread tease my nose. My stomach growls reminding me that I haven’t had breakfast. Thankfully, Brady ignores the inelegant sound.
A tall, good-looking guy emerges from what must be the back kitchen, hidden behind a swinging door that swooshes shut behind him. I instantly recognize him as celebrity chef Chase Turner, Harper’s husband.
“Chase, what are you doing here?” Brady asks. By his informal greeting, it’s obvious that the maintenance man knows the chef.
Chef Turner smiles. “Harper’s feeling a little under the weather, so I’m helping her out.” He strides over to me. “You must be Alexis Taylor. So nice to meet you. We’re looking forward to having you on our Christmas Inn cooking special.”
Extending his hand, we shake. He’s as charismatic and handsome in real-life as he is on TV. “I’m excited about being on your show as well. And please call me Lexi.”
“Ok then, Lexi and Brady, please follow me into the kitchen and we’ll get baking,” he says while motioning with his hand.
I hesitate to follow him, knowing that Evelyn and the studio would not look kindly on me if I fell ill. “I’m very sorry Harper isn’t feeling well, but I can’t afford to get sick. Should we postpone this to another day?”
Before Chase can respond, Harper appears from the back. She looks a little flushed and her energy level is much lower than when we met yesterday. Her husband puts his arm around her waist and tugs her close, then whispers something in her ear. She blushes and nods to whatever he said.
“We haven’t told anyone yet, but Harper’s pregnant. So, I think you’re safe not to catch this illness,” Chase replies with a proud papa-to-be smile.
Brady and I both say, “Congratulations!” in unison. Brady slaps Chase on the back and I give Harper a quick hug.
Harper looks like she’s feeling a bit green about the gills, although happy. “Ugh! This morning sickness just started and it’s the worst right after I get up. I’m really sorry, Lexi. You can still watch and help Chase bake, even though he’s a rookie,” she says with a flirty wink to her husband. She blushes again when he resumes his protective embrace, handling her as if she’s as precious as fine porcelain.
“I once played a pregnant wife of a dirty Chicago cop in a movie that was a box office flop. You’ve probably never heard . . .” I blurt out, then trail off at the absurdity of what just came out of my mouth. When everyone stares at me in amusement, it’s my turn to blush. “Not sure why I felt compelled to share that. It isn’t really relevant, is it?” I add with an embarrassed chortle.
We all laugh.
“Come on and we’ll bake,” Harper says as she and her husband swivel to return to the kitchen.
Brady hesitates. “I should probably get back to the inn. You never know when a leaky faucet will need my attention.”
“Please don’t go! Stay and bake with us.” Grasping his upper arm to detain him, I feel his muscle under my fingertips. His eyes widen, surprised at my spontaneous invitation, but I really do want him to stay.
Brady gives me a playful grin. “Okay, I’ll stay for a little while.” Our gazes collide, as we look at each other for several beats, ignoring the other couple. Time stands still until Chase clears his throat, breaking the moment between Brady and me. He exchanges an amused look with his wife and gestures for us to accompany him into the kitchen.
~*~
Two hours and several dozen cupcakes later, we’re sitting in a booth tucked in the far corner of the café area of the bakery. The result of our baking efforts are spread out in front of us. Brady and I are sipping on coffee while Harper sips on 7-Up. She cautiously nibbles on a few saltine crackers, her queasiness apparently under control for the moment.
Chase is finishing up the baking activities in the back, while two teenagers man the coffee bar and bakery counter. There’s a constant flow of customers, stopping in for their morning caffeine fix and sweets. With Chase’s ballcap on my head and my hair tucked up under it, no one has recognized me thus far. I haven’t noticed anyone snapping a photo on their cell phone and no one’s approached me for an autograph.
“Which flavor is your favorite?” Harper asks as she nods towards the plethora of cupcakes piled on a plate. Her overprotective husband wouldn’t let her lift a finger when we were baking. It was very sweet and made me wonder whether any guy would ever watch out for me like that.
Evelyn would have a fit at all the sugar I’m consuming. Hopefully, she won’t come to visit Sweeter than Southern Pie this morning and catch me in the act.
“I’m fond of this one,” Brady says, holding up one of the tiny cakes. “The lemon and peppermint are a surprisingly good combination.”
Harper beams at the compliment. “I am known for my unique combinations,” she says in a teasing voice.
“You can’t beat chocolate,” I say, holding up another one of the cakes. “I can’t believe that cayenne, mocha, and avocado taste this delicious together.” To make my point, I take a big bite and then savor the explosion of flavor on my taste buds. I feel especially fond of this one since I helped mix the batter and pour it into the muffin tins.
“That’s the recipe that made me famous,” Harper says. “My YouTube following exploded when I demonstrated how to make that one.”
We polish off most of the cupcakes while Harper tells us more about her YouTube channel and how Willow became her marketing and PR person. “My brother Jace introduced us,” Harper explains. “He was trying to keep Willow in the dark as to his true identity. That was awkward!”
My brows draw together. “What’s his true identity?”
“Jace Stone. He used to be a rock star,” Harper says with a shrug, as if that’s an everyday occurrence.
“Jace Stone of the Stone Aviators?” I exclaim.
“Yes, but he’s retired. Willow and he are married and live on a little farm not far from here.”
Excitement leaks from my voice. “I heard the Stone Aviators are getting back together for one final tour. Is Jace joining them?” I cringe realizing that I sound like a zealous fan—which I am, but I need to tone it down.
Harper leans in as if she’s going to share confidential information. “Don’t tell anyone, but he’s considering the tour. If they agree to sing their older songs, and he can bring Willow and the baby on tour with him.”
“I’m going to miss Willow,” Brady chimes in. “She runs the Christmas Inn like a well-oiled machine, and I’m not sure anyone can replace her.”
I clap my hands. “I’m going to watch for the tour announcement and get a ticket. Wow! This is exciting news.”
“Look at you. All fangirling over a rock band,” Brady teases.
A small frown tips down my lips. “I guess I’m no better than all those fans who stalk me for autographs and photos. Sorry.”
Harper smiles. “Believe me, you’re nothing like some of Jace’s fans.”
When the plate of sweets is empty, Brady says, “I better get back to the inn.”
“Me, too. I’ve got a new script to study.” Even though the dialogue is mostly cringeworthy fluff, I still have to learn it.
We both give Harper a hug and tell her we hope she feels better soon. “Thank Chase for teaching me how to bake. After I’m home, I’ll try to reproduce the mocha recipe.”
“Just text me if you have any questions,” Harper replies. “See you on Friday for the cooking show at the inn,” she reminds me.
“I can’t wait. If the meal is half as good as these cupcakes, I’ll be in heaven.”
As we walk back to the inn, Zeus lopes up and rejoins us. I wonder where the big dog spent the last couple hours, but I don’t vocalize that question. When we reach the walking path that leads directly to the inn, Brady asks, “Was that really your first time to bake?”