Meghan’s P.O.V.
The scent of vanilla and butter wafted through the air as I smoothed the pale pink frosting over the final tier of a wedding cake. The bakery was quiet today. Aunt Beth had insisted I would take a couple of days off to spend time with my parents, but there were too many custom orders to let pile up. I didn’t mind, though. I needed the calm, the rhythm of my work. Each swipe of the spatula and sprinkle of sugar felt like a balm to my swirling thoughts.
My parents were packing at the house right now, getting ready to leave tomorrow morning. It had been wonderful having them visit, truly. We had laughed, and reminisced, and they had even gotten to know Blade. I smiled at the memory of Blade sitting in the living room, a beer in his hand as he charmed my parents with a story
