Love Takes the Cake Read Online Free Page A

blessed with some good moves in the stock market. He could afford to take a breath for right now.
    â€œIt’s time for next, Will.” Her eyes dared him to argue, and he wouldn’t. But inside, he was yelling protests. It wasn’t her decision to make. He wasn’t ready.
    â€œYou’ve given up all your hobbies besides working out too.”
    â€œNo, I haven’t.” Man, when did cookie time turn into lecture time? “I still watch movies with you. And watch you make those crafty thingies you sell online. And I run.” He straightened, shoving his hair back, then smoothing it flat again. He couldn’t get too agitated. This was Melissa. She’d see right through it, anyway.
    â€œLike I said, besides working out or wasting time being lazy with me.” She tilted her head. “When was the last time you went hunting? Or cooked?”
    â€œSpaghetti—for you—two nights ago. Was it that forgettable?”
    Melissa snorted. “I mean really cooked. Your famous gumbo recipe, for example. Or that barbeque quiche you made for Mother’s Day a few years ago. Or that awesome fried mac and cheese you used to make on my birthday.”
    It was pretty awesome. He even put bacon in it—and ground venison. But he couldn’t cook anymore. It reminded him of his life before the accident, before everything changed forever. Reminded him of Mom.
    Of how he’d failed them both.
    â€œI don’t have time right now for any of that.” Straight-up lie. He had nothing but time.
    Thankfully, Melissa got the hint and didn’t push it any further. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone at Adam’s wedding.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down in anticipation, and Will’s stomach tightened. He’d rather go back to the previous lecture than start this particular new one.
    â€œYou know that’s not going to happen.” An image of Charlotte in her apron flashed through his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. No. It wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t.
    Melissa snorted. “You might be a hermit, but you’re still good-looking. It’ll happen eventually.”
    He smiled to pacify her, but no. He couldn’t take any more time away from his sister. And what woman would understand his responsibility toward her? A girlfriend, or wife, was just a complicated mess waiting to happen. His duty was here.

Always the baker, never the bride.
    She ought to needlepoint that and hang it on the wall.
    â€œMommy?”
    Her five-year-old daughter’s tiny voice barely registered above the electronic beeping of her handheld game. Zoe accompanied her to The Dough Knot every Saturday morning and alternated between “helping” mix batter, playing games, and reading books under the high stainless-steel counter in the kitchen.
    Right now, though, she sat at one of the tables in the vacant dining area, driving Charlotte semicrazy with her endless random questions. The elderly couple who had just left with their weekend brownies had found it adorable.
    Charlotte half wished she could ask them to babysit.
    â€œYes, Zoe?” She tried to keep the impatience out of her tone. Usually, Charlotte loved their weekends together, but this particular Saturday was different.
    She turned from putting the last few rose petals on the layered strawberry cake she had baked that morning, already boxed up for delivery. If she had a dime for every fake flower petal she had ever created out of icing or fondant, she could probably fund her own wedding.
    Not that there was a groom in sight.
    Zoe’s voice finally registered through her drifting thoughts. “Mommy, can I have a cookie?”
    â€œHave you already had one today?” She couldn’t remember in the Saturday rush if she’d given one to Zoe with her ham sandwich for lunch.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLook me in the eyes, Zoe.” Charlotte looked up from her piping bag