“Accept the inevitable.” She wrapped her fingers around his arm and tugged. She had a good grip on her too, because soon Ryan was at the front of the room behind the table, next to Lucy.
“Take the bag, Ryan, and treat it like the microphone you make love to,” Mrs. C heckled.
Hot color filled his cheeks. He was embarrassed, something that also hadn’t happened to him in years.
“Now, I’ve put buttercream on the cupcakes,” Lucy said. “And the piping bag is full of two frosting colors, so all you have to do is pipe.” She gave him a wide smile that exposed all her teeth. Nice teeth, he thought fleetingly as he gripped the bag she’d thrust at him.
He looked at Faith, who was now laughing openly and loudly at his expense. He narrowed his eyes in a “you’ll get yours” look, which only made her laugh harder.
“Start in the center and work out in a nice slow circle,” Mrs. C coaxed with her hand now steady on his forearm. “It’s good for you to have a backup occupation if the singing thing doesn’t work out.”
This had a few of the women tittering. His mother, however, still sat stony faced, and HRH wasn’t much better. Something was off there, he could feel it, but now was not the time to dig deeper; now was time to panic.
“You gotta squeeze, Ryan,” Lucy said from his other side.
Escape, he realized, was futile. Lowering the piping bag to the cupcake now before him, he began to frost roses onto a cupcake for the first time in his life.
It was harder than it looked, and his first flower cupcake looked more like a turd, but the second and third had promise. It was strangely therapeutic, even considering he was being watched by a group of women. The competitive streak in him rose, and soon the nerves had gone.
“Oh, well done, sweetie.” Mrs. C clapped when he lowered the bag.
“I’ll just box those up, Ryan, and you can take them home.”
“Sure, thanks.” What the hell else was he supposed to say? It was like he’d stepped into some kind of weird parallel universe where people were not impressed by Ryan Lawrence the rock star but rated him as Ryan the cupcake rose decorator. He kinda liked it and kinda felt a little pissed off.
The ladies clapped loudly for him, and he smiled. What the hell; he’d take the accolades from this tough crowd whatever way they came. Faith, however, was now snort-laughing.
“My turn.” She controlled herself enough to leap to her feet. “Move it.” She motioned for Ryan to leave his spot as she arrived at his side.
“Please,” he said.
“Just do it, pretty boy.”
“Worried mine will be better than yours, Faith, even considering it’s my first shot at this?”
“As if.” She snorted, elbowing him just under the ribs, which had the air expelling from his lungs at speed.
“Witch!”
“Moi?” She batted her eyelashes, and he thought about kissing her right there in front of a room filled with the town’s most notorious gossips but decided against it. She had to live here, after all, while he’d get to leave.
Taking the box of cupcakes Mrs. C handed him, he motioned to his mom. “We gotta go, Mom. Hope is waiting. Nice to see you again, ladies.” He shot Faith a look, but she was piping, and to his disgust, it was a perfect rose.
Clearly he needed more practice.
Chapter 6
Faith found her running gear in the pile on the floor and dug out her shoes. She started the day with exercise when it was possible. Today, it was.
Tugging up the covers on her bed, which was her effort at making it, she looked around her space. Big enough for a sofa, TV, and small fridge.
“I’m a slob.”
Clothes and mess were everywhere. The problem was, she’d never been tidy. Noah was, but not her. When her mother lived here, she’d constantly been on at Faith to clean up her mess. Now no one did that.
Thinking about her mom made her want to cry again, so instead she ignored the piles of clothing and shoes scattered everywhere, promising herself she’d clean it later, and headed out the door.
The construction had started again in The Howler, and soon there would be a large conference room and dining deck area added to the second floor. They would start advertising and hoped to get bookings for the spring and winter for corporate events.