Page 28 of Not Just Gal Pals

“It’s like we’re on an episode of the Great British Bake Off. Okay, what do we do first?” I asked in my best British accent, looking at George.

“First thing’s first, stop that atrocious British accent. Next, take off your jacket, roll up your sleeves, and put this on.” She threw me an apron. “Then, we need to turn on the oven so it can heat up.”

I was closest to the oven, so I walked over to it as I rolled up my sleeves. “Should I put it on 500 so it cooks fast, given we’re short on time?”

George stopped what she was doing and shot me a look. “God no. Put it on 350. Um, Blake, have you ever made a cake before?”

“Yeah, of course. But it was a boxed cake mix, not from scratch. Who has the time for that?”

George looked at me aghast, her eyes wide. “Oh dear. And am I correct in understanding that your use of the singular ‘boxed cake mix’ means you’ve only ever cooked one cake?”

I grinned, and George grimaced. “Okay. Well, that would have been useful information to have before I committed to cooking a three-tiered wedding cake with you under time pressure. How about you start with washing the blueberries, then?”

George handed me the blueberries and began prepping the other ingredients.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, George asked, “So, how are things with Jenny?” Her voice was full of meaning. I looked up sharply. She was focused on measuring out the flour, but I could see the corner of her mouth twitching.

“Fine. Why?”

“I caught both of you sneaking glances at each during the ceremony. And then you offered to cook an entire cake for her despite, um…not being a baker.”

My chest warmed at the thought of Jenny looking at me. Had she been checking me out too?

But I wasn’t about to tell George that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And we’re cooking this cake for Amanda, not Jenny.” Denying everything seemed like the best strategy at this point.

There was a knock on the front door and then a creak as it opened.

“Hello?” Jenny called.

Damn. I quickly ran my tongue across the front of my teeth, hoping none of the blueberries I’d sampled were stuck to them.

“We’re through here,” George called out, as she winked at me.

“Behave,” I muttered under my breath just as Jenny appeared at the kitchen door.

While the doctor in me knew it was physically impossible, I could have sworn my heart stopped for a moment.

Jenny looked so damn cute. The pen tucked behind her ear, the clipboard with the schedule under her arm, and her business-like stride were in stark contrast to the flowing, floral bridesmaid dress, silver heels, and cream shawl over her shoulders. Her hair fell in waves over the shawl. And between her hair, the shawl, and the V-neck of the dress, there was more than a hint of her cleavage, which I tried to ignore. In her hands were two glasses of champagne.

“How are my favorite bakers doing? I feel terrible you two are stuck in here while the rest of us are sipping on champagne and eating vol-au-vents, so I brought you both a glass. Sorry, I didn’t have enough hands to bring you food as well, so I had to prioritize.” She grinned.

George grabbed one of the glasses and took a swig. “Thanks. I’m glad to see you’ve got your priorities straight!”

Ms. Levi walked into the kitchen just as Jenny handed me the other glass, our fingers narrowly missing each other. “Hi, Jenny! I thought I heard you. I was just coming in to see how the cooks were doing. Please shout out if you need anything at all.”

“Hi, Ms. Levi. I’m just dropping off some drinks. Sorry, I didn’t bring one for you too. Thanks so much for lending us your kitchen.”

“Call me Leah, Jenny. And it’s no problem. In fact, it’s the least I can do.” She smiled at me and then turned to Jenny. “I don’t know if Blake mentioned it, but we had a scare with Zelda last night, and Blake dropped everything to come out and check on her. She’s feeling much better today, thank goodness.” Zelda was Ms. Levi’s daughter, who had some ongoing health issues.

Jenny looked at me, and I flushed, dropping my gaze to the lemon I was zesting. I don’t know why I felt embarrassed about doing my job, but I did. I sensed Jenny’s eyes on me for a few moments but didn’t dare look up.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must have been stressful. I’m glad she’s doing okay.” Jenny glanced at her watch. “Well, I guess I’d better be getting back to the barn to make sure nothing else has fallen apart in my absence. Thanks again for saving the wedding!”

* * *

An hour and a half later, I took a seat next to Jenny. I took a deep breath, hyperaware of Jenny’s proximity to me. My eyes darted over to her face, confirming that, yes, she still looked gorgeous, and then away again before I was distracted by her V-neck.