Page 61 of Shattered Hearts

“I can source some of these things next week. Laynie, you’re in charge of the cake.” I give Macie a mock salute. “Delly is getting alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. Sadie, you’re doing the piñata and banner. Sound good?”

We all agree, and Macie sends us a screenshot of the plan and our jobs before we settle on a movie to watch. I pull the blanket over mine and Sadie’s legs as we nestle together. My hand gently cradles my stomach as I rest my head on hers, smiling.

For the first time in weeks, I finally feel content. I wonder how long this feeling will last before something else arises.

Until then, I’m going to soak this time up, because no doubt, this feeling won’t last forever…

Chapter Twenty-Two

Grayson

“I’m not wearing it,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.

Laynie rolls her eyes, holding up the baby pink and white apron. “It’s the only other one I have.”

“Why can’t we swap?” I ask, looking at her blue one. “That won’t look as girly on me.”

“This is my apron. It even has my initials.” She points to the little L.A embroidered in navy blue in the corner. “See.”

“Fine…” I take the pink apron from her hand. I don’t miss the smirk she wears as I reluctantly tie it around my waist before clasping my hands together. “What do we do first?”

“Firstly, you wash your hands over there, and then I will have you working on mixing and oven duty.”

“I thought you were on oven duty?”

I play a drum riff, and Laynie frowns, clearly confused. I point to her stomach, and she snickers.

“That’s a good one.” She flicks me a grin before sobering. “But I need you to be setting the timers and pulling trays out.”

“I can do that.” I give her a small nod.

Washing our hands in the sink, I take a bit of soap and dot it on her nose. She squeaks with surprise before splashing me with water. I have to turn away before bubbled water lands in my eyes, and a bark comes out of me.

“All right, all right. Truce.”

Laynie pouts for a second before nodding. “Truce, before I lose more flour.”

“You’re lucky it was a water fight and not an egg fight. I’d have won that.”

She pokes her tongue out before walking me over to the bench with various bowls of ingredients. “You need to mix them until they look thick like batter. If you’re unsure, then—”

“I know what batter looks like.” I hold up the metal whisk. “I am the pancake pro at the ranch.”

“Then stir, pancake boy.” She coyly smiles with a hand on her hip, a mischievous glint shimmering in her eyes.

Mixing up the bowls, Laynie does some constructing and decorating of cupcakes, while I pour everything into the respective pans. I have to say, I might be the pancake pro at home, but I might also be the oven champion at Golden Hour.

After what feels like hours, we finally have some batches made up and placed in containers for tomorrow. Laynie has done exceptionally well at getting all of this finished in one night. The number of blondies, pastries, and cheesecake is insane. I wonder how she has the energy for all of this.

I just hope that the market tomorrow is worth all this effort. I’m sure it will be.

“We did it,” Laynie chimes, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of heat in the pit of my stomach.

We. I like hearing her say that.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, it all looks great.”

“Thank you so much for helping me with all of this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”