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As I sat there in the quiet of my office, I let out a long breath. Everything was in motion. Candace was within reach, Brynn was back in my life, and for the first time in years, I felt like maybe things were falling into place.
But there was still a long way to go. Candace wasn’t down yet, and Brynn and I had a lot of unresolved history to sort through.
But for now? I’d take it. Because being this close to Brynn again… well, that was something I wasn’t willing to let slip through my fingers. Not this time.
Chapter Fifteen
Brynn
I was stressed.
Not the kind of stress that pushed you into action—the productive kind—but the slow, simmering kind that gnawed at you while you waited for something to happen. We had the plan in place. We were going to call Candace tomorrow, but that meant I had to wait until tomorrow morning to do so, and I hated the time in between. The time when there was nothing left to do but sit, think, and worry.
So, naturally, my mind wandered to distractions. And one thing I remembered was Bristol baking when she was stressed or worried.
That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, watching her from the doorway, wondering if maybe, just maybe, baking would help me get through the rest of today without losing my mind.
“Hi,” I said, stepping fully into the kitchen.
Bristol looked up from the sink, her hands submerged in a cloud of soap bubbles as she washed a pan. “Hey, girl,” she smiled.
I glanced at the large kitchen around us, its stainless-steel appliances gleaming, countertops pristine. “Don’t you guys have a dishwasher?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. It seemed odd that Bristol was handwashing dishes in a house this big.
Bristol chuckled, shaking her head as she scrubbed the pot. “Yeah, we do. But sometimes I like to handwash. It’s relaxing, and I don’t put my good pots in the dishwasher, either.”
I nodded slowly. “I don’t know why I questioned you. It just seemed strange to see someone in this huge house doing something as simple as washing dishes by hand.”
She laughed again, the sound light and easy. “Pie’s asked me the same thing before, so you’re not the first.” She finished up the last dish and dried her hands on a towel. “Did you need something? I can whip up a charcuterie board if you’re hungry.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “It would take me seven to ten business days to ‘whip up’ a charcuterie board. The fact that you can do it in minutes amazes me.”
She grinned and nodded to the pantry. “The key is having a stacked pantry and keeping it simple.”
Bristol made her way to the pantry, but I stopped her with a quick, “Wait, no.” I fidgeted, suddenly feeling a little awkward. This wasn’t my usual way of coping, but here I was. “Actually, I was wondering if your offer to bake still stood.”
She paused, looking at me, surprised. “Seriously?”
I nodded, biting my lip. “Yeah, I thought maybe stress baking would help distract me.”
Bristol’s face broke into a wide smile. “Of course you can bake! Do you want me to get out of your way, or…?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “I’m not trying to kick you out. Honestly, it’d probably be better if you stuck around to supervise. I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t baked in forever.”
Her smile widened, excitement bubbling up in her eyes. “Well, hot damn! This is going to be fun.” She walked toward the pantry again, this time retrieving a thick cookbook. “Do you know what you want to bake, or do you want to browse?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Bristol wasn’t judging me. She wasn’t making this feel weird. She was just happy to help. “A cookbook would be great,” I said, feeling the knot in my stomach start to loosen.
Bristol handed me the book, and I opened it on the island counter, flipping through the pages slowly. Each recipe had a glossy photo beside it, the kind that made everything look perfect. There were recipes for apple tarts, cinnamon rolls,lemon meringue pie, and red velvet cupcakes. Each one looked delicious, and I found myself smiling as I imagined how good they would smell while baking.
But then I turned the page, and one recipe jumped out at me:Chocolate Cream Pie with Chocolate Whipped Topping.
I stared at the picture for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. It was Leo’s favorite. At least, it had been over twenty years ago.
“This one,” I said, pointing at the page.
Bristol leaned over my shoulder to look. “Oh yeah,” she said, clapping her hands together. “That is exactly what you need when you’re stressed—chocolate!”
I smiled, but the truth was, I didn’t pick the recipe because of the chocolate. I picked it because of Leo.
