A Walk Along the Beach(42)

“Sean O’Malley.”

The two exchanged handshakes.

“Pastor McDonald was a tremendous help after Mom died and again later when Harper was ill. I don’t know what our family would have done without him.” It gladdened my heart to know that Lucas and Chantelle had asked him to perform their wedding ceremony.

    “I’m pleased to know you, Pastor.”

“Heath, please. The minute people hear that I’m a pastor they clam up and are afraid to be themselves. The only one who calls me Pastor is Willa. I’d like to think of myself as more of a spiritual doctor.”

“Thank you for doing this,” I said. Pastor Heath was a gentle-spirited man with a giving heart. Without him and the help of the church, I don’t know what would have happened to our family after Mom died. For months after her death, the women from church took turns coming to the house, teaching me to cook and clean. They’d loved my mother, too. The pastor had counseled Dad, until Dad refused to see him any longer, preferring to drown his grief in cheap whiskey.

Sean followed me to the shop. I arrived earlier than I normally would, which gave us time for coffee. The kitchen was dark and cold until I turned on the lights and put the coffee on to brew. I took the dough out of the refrigerator to let it warm and rise again before I baked the cinnamon rolls.

“What are those?” Sean asked, nodding toward the row of round cake pans resting on the counter.

“Cake,” I explained the obvious.

“You don’t sell cakes. Are you thinking of expanding into a bakery?”

“Nope, that’s wedding cake. I promised my brother and Chantelle I’d bake the cake for their wedding. I’m trying out a few different flavors.” I didn’t mention that one of my stress-relievers was to bake. Rather than stew about Harper’s plan to move, I’d baked four different-flavored cakes.

“Do you need a taste-tester?”

“Are you volunteering?”

    He patted his flat stomach. “I did lose a few pounds while sick. Mom did her best to fatten me up. What she didn’t try was cake. I’d love to be your taste-tester.”

“You got it.” Chantelle and Lucas would make the final decision; however, having Sean test out my practice runs would be a help.

Taking down four small plates, I dished up a thin slice of each cake, sans frosting. “I didn’t frost the cakes,” I explained. “I want you to taste the flavor without it being masked with frosting.”

“Which one should I sample first?”

“Vanilla. I know it sounds boring, but vanilla remains the most popular choice.”

“Okay.” His fork slid into the moist cake. He chewed, swallowed, and nodded. “Delicious. It’s going to be hard to beat that one.”

“Good to know. Funfetti is next.”

“Fun what?”

“It’s called Funfetti, which is basically the same white cake mixed with colorful sprinkles. They melt in the baking process, so the cake looks like confetti.”

“Looks good.” His fork dipped into the cake and lifted it to his mouth. He swallowed and nodded. “This one is equally good.”

“Glad you approve.”

He sipped his coffee to clear the taste from his mouth and then asked, “What’s next on the agenda?”

“Lemon cake.”

“I’ve always been fond of lemon anything.” He tasted it and jiggled his eyebrows approvingly. “That’s delicious. It’s my favorite so far.” He took another bite while I reached for the fourth plate.

“Now for the grand finale.” With a bit of show, I set down the final piece of cake. “This is coconut.”

He poured himself a glass of water before he tried the last sample. Each recipe had my own special twist. The vanilla and Funfetti cakes had been made from whole vanilla beans. The lemon cake had lemon zest and lemon juice in the mix. For coconut cake, I’d used coconut milk for the liquid. I was eager to see his reaction to this last cake the most. It was my personal favorite. I knew Chantelle liked coconut pie, which is what prompted me to add this to the list. I didn’t remember if Lucas much cared for the flavor or not.

    After the first forkful, Sean closed his eyes and moaned. “Willa, this is incredible. I don’t know what you did to make it taste like fresh coconut. This is heaven in cake form.”

“Which would you vote for?”

“Need you ask? Coconut,” he said, and then added, “with the lemon cake running a close second. I’d marry you for the coconut cake alone,” he teased. His eyes were bright with merriment before slowly growing more serious. “I’d marry you for far more than your baking skills, Willa.”

At his comment, my heart felt like it was about to explode. “Don’t be silly,” I protested, my hand to my throat. “We barely know each other and—”

“I know everything I need to know,” he said, reaching for me. His arms went around my waist, bringing him to me. I leaned down and our lips met in a kiss that was hot enough to sound the fire alarm. We were heavily involved in each other when I heard a noise behind us.

The outside door to the kitchen opened and Harper walked in. “Oh,” she cried. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”