“I do.”

“Well, what time do you go in? Don’t you have baker’s hours?”

I flop back and put the pillow over my head. “I don’t. The bakers do,” I mumble into fabric and feathers.

He laughs and pulls the pillow away. “Well, baby. You’re the baker today.”

Yesterday, I thought the coup to get me to do this was cute and funny. Today in the darkness of the morning, I no longer find it entertaining. Now, I want to hurt someone. But I can suck it up for today. Plus, the festival looked like a lot of fun. I love flea markets and fairs. There’s always something to repurpose or a unique craft to find. I can only imagine the types of homemade items that will be there today.

“Coffee first,” I say as I swing my legs off the bed.

I was extremely excited to learn that I was allowed to have one cup of coffee a day. I explained to the doctor that I would do my best to limit it. I went from drinking four cups a day to one. I had really bad headaches at first, but they’re definitely more manageable now.

“You get in the shower, and then we’ll get food and coffee.”

I complain, but do as he says.

The shower feels great, and we were too exhausted to care about how dirty we were last night. I have batter under my nails, and the sheets will definitely need to be washed. Lord only knows how much flour Wyatt still had on him when we fell into bed.

Once all the cupcakes were done and we’d made a new batch of icing, we had to clean the shop. I have to say that there was nothing sexier than watching Wyatt on the floor scrubbing the mess we made. He was so sweet, telling me to get off my feet and rest. I tried to fight him, but he made a face that was too cute to disobey. I sat there, ate another cupcake, and discovered it wasn’t just the first one that tasted good. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is my favorite, and the only recipe I remember by heart. Luckily, Mrs. Kannan had planned to make something similar, so she had all the ingredients already.

I get out of the shower and throw on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. It’s going to be hot outside today, and I want to be comfortable. Plus, Wyatt is in a pair of basketball shorts and a plain white shirt, so I doubt I have to dress up.

“Ready?” I say as I grab my sneakers.

“Yup.” He walks over, hands me a travel mug, and kisses my forehead. “What was that for?” I ask.

“This means a lot to me. I’m glad you helped out a very sick old lady in need.”

I laugh. “You mean faking sick.”

He tilts his head to the side. “She’ll expect that you believe her. One thing those women know how to do is scheme. So, for your benefit, you better play along.”

“Noted.”

I go to take a sip, needing the caffeine, and I’m shocked. “Wyatt!” I yell, pulling a larger amount from the cup. “This is a Caramel Macchiato!”

Oh my God. He made me my favorite drink. I’ve been searching through Pinterest to find a good copycat since Presley told me it was completely irrational to drive a few towns over for a drink. How did he find one before I did? Do I care? Nope.

“Pres said that was what you liked. I hope it tastes like you wanted it. Like home.”

I close the top of my heaven in a cup and rush toward him. My arms fly around his middle, and he lets out a short laugh before hugging me closer. “Thank you,” I say with sincerity. “Thank you for doing this. It’s so sweet, and it does taste like home.”

It tastes better than that because he made it for me. It’s the little things that he does without even knowing it. How he texts me during the day, worries about my feet, touches my belly, and is just . . . perfect. I’m used to men who have to go overboard to prove they’re so great. But Wyatt doesn’t do that. He’s just him. God, I’m in trouble.

We arrive at the bakery, and already the town is alive. Everyone is setting up their tables, running around, and chatting with each other.

“Hey!” Presley comes over with Zach.

“Hey, guys.” I smile and give them each a hug.

Presley looks at the cupcake display with a smile. “You ready for today?”

“We are,” Wyatt says as he carries another tray of cupcakes down.

“Well, if it isn’t, Betty Crocker, or are you Duncan Hines?” Zach takes a crack at Wyatt.

“Like you should talk,” Wyatt scoffs. “I’ve seen you do far more embarrassing shit than make some cupcakes for Presley.”

Zach rolls his eyes. “Looks like I’m not the only whipped one here anymore.”

“You two will never change,” Presley scolds. “You’re like infants.”

They remind me of what my brothers used to be like before Josh became a dick.

Wyatt throws his arm around me. “It’s fine, Pres. I’m used to him crying like a little girl. He’s mad because Trent took all his money in poker the other night.”

Her face falls. “You didn’t tell me you were playin’ poker with Trent. You said you had to help your brothers.”

Zach flips Wyatt off. “Thanks, asshole.” He turns to Presley. “I did help my brothers, darlin’. I helped them take my money.”

“They always take your money! It’s why you said you weren’t going to play anymore.”

Oh, shit. He’s in trouble. I’ve seen Presley when she gets like this. I lean against Wyatt with a grin. This is going to be comedic gold.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Pres,” Wyatt tries to interject. “He did win a hand or two. Plus, Trent did call us over to move some stuff for Mama. It wasn’t until after we were done that he sucked both of us into a game. You know us Henningtons can’t resist the urge to compete.”

“Yeah, Pres.” Zach agrees. “It was supposed to be in fun.”

She glares at Wyatt and then huffs. “You’ll pay in other ways, Cowboy. Many other ways.”

“I look forward to it.”

“I’m going to be sick,” I say while shaking my head.

Presley looks at me, realizes I’m only being metaphorical, and she laughs. “We better be gettin’ back to our booth before they send out a search party.”

“Have fun!” I say with mock enthusiasm.

Wyatt and I go back to setting up the booth the best we can. I have no idea how Mrs. Kannan typically runs things, so I’m winging it. Of course, Wyatt can’t remember either, so he does whatever I ask. It’s a flawed system, but it’s working for now.

About an hour later, the streets are packed. People come from all over. Everyone is courteous, everyone is nice, and it’s . . . surreal. Definitely nothing like back home.

We move around the tent, selling cupcakes as Wyatt flirts with the women, who then buy more cupcakes. It’s hilarious to watch them fawn over him, and I have to admit that he’s adorable.

“Angie! You’re a lifesaver!” Mrs. Kannan rushes over, clearly not under the weather.

“Mrs. Kannan, you look like you’re well.”

She laughs. “Must’ve been one of those twelve-hour bugs or something. Funny how quick it cleared up with a little bit of rest. You really saved the day, dear.”

I shake my head with a smile. “I’m happy to help.”