He glances down at the white patch, then back up. The corner of his mouth twitches. "Is this part of the homemade imperfection technique?"
"An advanced part," I manage, grabbing a dry cloth. "Requires ... commitment." I step toward him, heart hammering. "Here, let me..." My hand hovers over his thigh. I dab awkwardly at the powder. My knuckles brush the fabric. The contact, brief as it is, is a lightning strike. My face flames.
He catches my wrist, gentle but firm. "Maddy," he says, voice low and serious. "It's fine." Our eyes meet, the air thick with powdered sugar and unresolved everything. He lets go of my wrist.
I turn to the cake, moving around to the other side of the counter. I trim the edges with a knife. "Take proposal planning," I say, filling the silence. "People think it's just decorations, but it's about managing expectations and avoiding disasters."
"Like last night," he says.
I freeze. "Last night" was the proposal. And the kiss.
"Three hours to create magic, plan for every disaster, and deliver a memory two people will have for life. No pressure at all."
Mason adjusts the cookies with care. "You enjoy the pressure."
"I live for it. There's a thrill about turning impossible deadlines into flawless moments that I can't quite quit." I smear an extra layer of frosting along the side, emphasizing the imperfection. There's an art to appearing convincingly homemade. Imperfect enough to say, "I care, but I also have a life."
He watches, expression unreadable. I scoop frosting onto my finger, then offer it. "Want to taste?"
He hesitates, then leans in and takes the bite. Lips brush my finger. I pretend my pulse stays steady.
"What about you?" I ask, hyper-aware of how close he is. "What do you live for?"
He doesn't answer right away. He studies me.
"I used to think I lived for winning," he says. "Closing deals, outmaneuvering opponents, building cases. But that was when I worked for Richard Kingston and winning meant someone else lost."
"And now?"
"Now I'm figuring out what winning means when the goal is building a future instead of tearing it down." He steps back from the cookies. "It's a different pressure."
My phone buzzes with a text from Savvy. I wipe my hands on a towel and check the message.
Savvy
Scotland is fairy tale-like. Henry wants to buy everything we see and ship it back to River Bend. How's business? And more importantly, how's Mason?
I glance at him, noting the way he's studying my cake-making process with interest rather than tolerance.
Me
Business is good. Mason is … educational.
Savvy
Educational how? Good educational or "I'm planning his mysterious disappearance" educational?
Me
Good educational. He helped with an emergency proposal setup. Even got his expensive sleeves dirty.
Savvy
Character development! I'm proud of him. And you. Playing nice with others was never your strongest skill.
Me
Hey! I'm excellent at playing nice.
