For Butter or for Worse: A Sweet Coastal Kisses Novel by Dana LeCheminant

Author:Dana LeCheminant [LeCheminant, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bow and Arrow Press
Published: 2024-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Georgie

I’ve barely seen King the last few days. It’s not exactly a surprise—he warned me he would be busy—but my disappointment is definitely concerning. We both agreed that we can’t get attached to each other. But when a girl watches a man physically heft an animal as large as a water-laden llama out of a pool, her mind starts to get ideas. I had been annoyed that my sleepwalking pulled me out of the house in the middle of the night until King dove into the pool and gave me a show.

If I’m being honest, that morning was just a cherry on top of the ice cream sundae that is Royal Kingston. During the moments when I have seen him the last couple days—like when I dropped off some fresh croissants at the surf shack and watched him teach three little kids how to balance on their miniature surfboards, all four of them with broad smiles—I felt like I was getting a front row seat to the man he has become.

I liked him when we were younger. Maybe even loved him. But I never looked at him back then like I’ve been doing since we tied the knot.

It’s dangerous.

“Mrs. Vanderman just came in,” Emily says, poking her head into the kitchen.

Now that school is out, she and Meg have started switching shifts. The seventeen-year-old is not especially skilled at baking and has a lot to learn, but I haven’t minded the change in company. Meg’s unveiled glares were getting tiresome. I’ve been able to handle the morning baking on my own just fine, glad to have a chance to roam the kitchen freely without worrying about getting in someone else’s way, and Meg has been helpful with prepping for the next day before she locks up in the afternoons.

It’s a relief to have found a sort of rhythm together, though she still seems sad that I stole what chances she had with King, however small they were.

“Are the sticky buns ready?” Emily asks.

As I carefully fold almond flour into my egg whites for a batch of macarons, I glance at the one oven that isn’t finicky, which is currently baking the sticky buns that Mrs. Vanderman is particularly fond of. “Five minutes,” I tell Emily. I would have liked them to be done already, but I’m not about to serve the woman a subpar bun the morning before I convince her husband to transfer the bakery to me. Our appointment is in an hour or so, and I’ve been dreading it since leaving the courthouse.

Especially because Mrs. Vanderman has been here every day. King says that’s normal, but the stern-looking attorney’s wife seems to watch me more closely than what is socially acceptable. If I had to put money on it, she doesn’t seem to think our marriage is a real one. That makes me worried to learn of her husband’s opinion on the matter.

With King too busy to make appearances at the bakery, I’m using the only weapon I’ve got to combat Mrs.

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