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“Yes, thank you. A tray would be perfect.”
She paused, the blue eyes keen. “Of course. I’ll leave you to settle in. Remember, there’s always a hot drink in the kitchen if you change your mind.”
Zac waited until she closed the door behind her before checking out the bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom had the same cozy, comfortable vibe as the living room and the bath boasted a walk-in shower as well as a claw-foot bath. It was a long time since Zac had stayed anywhere that looked so like a home. There was a good reason for that. His hands clenched into fists and he took a deep breath. He might only be here for a few weeks, but he sensed that the sooner he got out of Marietta the better.
*
“Lacey, put that down. You’ll ruin your appetite.” Aunt Patty’s words might be stern but her face was anything but as Lacey pulled out a chair and sank into it, the purloined corn muffin, still warm from the oven, in her hand.
“I promise you I won’t. Talking nonstop is hungry work.”
“Then you must be hungry all the time. How was work today?”
“Great! We’re nearly there with all the Bachelor Bake-Off promotional material. We have eight bachelors all signed up and ready to go, tickets are selling well, and there’s a real buzz around town.”
“It’s for a good cause,” her aunt said.
Lacey nodded. “It really is and of course everyone really wants to make sure the center is a fitting memorial to Harry.” Her smile faded as she remembered the young firefighter so tragically killed. “That’s why the station has put so much work and time into helping promote the Bachelor Bake-Off. Not just because Marietta really needs a place like Harry’s House, but also because it’s the only way we can make sense of something so tragic. Everyone is so enthusiastic it’s been a dream to help organize so far. Thanks for agreeing to sponsor a bachelor, Aunt Patty.”
“I just hope that brother of yours doesn’t let us down; your Aunt Priscilla and I have a reputation to uphold you know. Who’s going to buy their wedding cakes from us if Nat produces concrete cookies?”
“You’d better prepare yourself for last place. You know neither Nat nor I inherited the Hathaway baking gene,” Lacey warned her aunt. She clasped her hands as excitement quivered through her. “I can’t believe Nat’s coming to Marietta for a whole month. It almost makes up for him missing Christmas.”
“It’ll be lovely to see him.” Her aunt looked wistful as she turned back to the rich stew bubbling away on the huge range stove. Nat was a real favorite with his aunts and they missed him just as much as his little sister did. Unlike Lacey he didn’t live in Marietta anymore, preferring to travel with their musician parents while he developed his own music career. He had spent the whole of his high school senior year in Marietta though, living at Crooked Corner.
“So,” Lacey said through a mouthful of corn muffin, “how’s the new lodger? No, hang on, let me guess. He’s an auditor isn’t he? I’m going to go with fiftyish, sporting one of those paunches men get when they spend too long on the road. Graying hair, with a comb-over to hide the bald patch. A good value suit and loafers with tassels on. Am I right?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” her aunt suggested with a nod toward the door behind Lacey. “He’s standing right there. Hello, Zac. Changed your mind about the coffee?”
Lacey choked as the corn muffin stuck in her throat, her cheeks on fire as she turned around, an apology—or a bluff—on her lips, only for the words to dry up as she drank in the vision framed in her aunts’ kitchen doorway. No paunchy, graying accountant here, rather over six foot of lean masculinity, dark hair cropped close, darker eyes narrowed. His well-shaped mouth would have looked made for sin if it wasn’t thin with disapproval—disapproval firmly directed right at Lacey.
“Please excuse my niece,” Aunt Patty said, smothering a smile unsuccessfully. “She never knows when to stop talking. It’s an occupational hazard.”
Lacey swallowed the rest of the suddenly dry muffin hastily, and pinned an apologetic look onto her face. “She’s right, I do have a bad habit of just saying the first thing that comes into my head and I rarely mean it. I’m a radio host for the local station here in Marietta—well I’m the station manager as well. We’re mostly staffed by volunteers…” Now is the time to stop talking, Lacey, but the words kept on spilling out. “I’m the only paid member of staff right now but we have ambitions to grow. I do the drive time show but we have a real varied program. Aunt Patty here does a fashion segment and Aunt Priscilla a Saturday morning baking show…” She gulped some scalding hot coffee in an attempt to stop her runaway mouth.
Zac Malone had barely raised an eyebrow in response to her one-woman monologue on the current status of Radio KMCM. “I was wondering if that offer of a cup of coffee was still available?” he addressed Aunt Patty right over Lacey’s head.
“Of course, come on in. There’s usually coffee on the go here” Aunt Patty indicated the percolator, which was pressed into service fourteen hours a day. “And you’ll always find something freshly baked on the second shelf in the pantry. You can help yourself to anything in this kitchen. We just ask guests—and relatives—” she fixed Lacey with a meaningful look “—to stay out of the other kitchen.”
“Aunt Patty and Priscilla are bakers,” Lacey said, taking pity on the bemused expression on Zac’s face. “They have a professional kitchen through there. No matter how enticing the smells, do not follow your nose. The witch in Hansel and Gretel has nothing on these two if you enter their lair.”
Silence. She was making quite the impression here. Two strikes down. She had one chance left. “So, Zac. An auditor huh? That must be interesting?”
“Keeps me busy.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and nodded over at Aunt Patty. “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.” And with that he was gone.
Find out what happens next in Baking for Keeps…
