𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⤷ JAMIE TARTT

3 - One Missed Call

"But what if he does?"

"Then I'll break his ankles, and every conversation we have won't have to center around the woes that plague your life. I should break his ankles anyway, but Jamie this, Jamie that. Seriously, I'm at my fucking limit," Evan said, padding down the stairs. "Have either of you seen my gloves?"

Darcy tilted her head. "Boxing or training?"

"Training."

"They're in the bathroom upstairs," Kate answered.

Evan ran back upstairs, and Darcy hummed. "They're not actually there are they?"

Kate shook her head. "Nope. I haven't seen any of his things lying around. It's what he gets for being an ass."

"He's sort of right, though," Darcy said. "It's been Jamie this, Jamie that this entire week. But that's not what we were talking about. What are you going to do?"

That was the question. Kate mulled it over. What could she do? If she went ahead with all this, as crazy as it was, if she did end up helping Jamie . . . what if everything went to shit? There was so much that could go wrong! She sighed, and Darcy looked at her expectantly. But what if he doesn't? She could just go on with her life afterwards, after him, and be rid of all things Jamie Tartt once and for all.

"Okay."

Kate pushed away her doubts with a bated breath. Teach Jamie how to get a girlfriend. It was an easy task (or so she was determined to convince herself). She just had to repeat what she'd already told Darcy. It should be as easy as baking a cake . . . Right?

A buzz startled Kate from her thoughts, and Darcy peered over her shoulder to read the new message.

Jamie Tartt. 'We still on for tonight?'

This was going to be a shit show.

She typed back. Unfortunately. 'Yes.'

🍰

Baked With Love wasn't open on Wednesdays or Saturdays. It was a small reprieve that Kate allowed herself because what was the point of life with all work and no play?

Jamie sat atop the front counter, slotted between the register and the edge with a large tray of baked goods in his lap—each a new recipe Kate had whipped up. Matcha thumbprint cookies with yuzu jam, plum cheesecake bars, mango sago cream puffs . . . the list went on. It was a lucky thing that he wasn't much of a picky eater because despite his cautious eyes, he tried everything anyway.

Fitted puzzle pieces in the kitchen. Darcy's words echoed as Kate watched Jamie take a bite of the cheesecake bar and nod thoughtfully.

"Something's . . . not right with it," he said, looking at the swirled purple and cream. "I don't mind the taste much, but—" He paused, thinking, "it's like they're not mixing. Just separate."

She took note of that, and they quickly fell into a rhythm. She jotted down each of his critiques even when he just made a face and decidedly moved onto the next one (because she knew all too well that sometimes no answer was an answer).