Page 87 of Deep Feelings & Shallow Graves
He doesn’t speak until I’m close enough to smell the coffee on his breath.
“When you find her,” I say softly, adjusting my gloves, “she’ll be smiling. I even dusted the cupcakes.”
He just nods like we’re discussing rainfall. “The will’s in effect,” he says. “Bakery goes to the reigning blue ribbon winner.”
I allow myself a small smile. “Lovely,” I say. “She deserves a kitchen with good bones. Gas oven. Iron racks. All that history just waiting to be desecrated.”
Carson raises a brow. “You think she’ll keep the name?”
I laugh, low and dry. “Oh, no. Jennifer isn’t the type to inherit. She consumes and reinvents. It’s her gift.”
He smirks. “Got any name ideas?”
I glance at the stars. Think of sugar and ash. Of blood-slick aprons and kisses that taste like murder.
Carson kicks a pebble with the toe of his boot. “You think she’ll go rustic and sweet? Something safe, like Sunrise Sweets?”
I snort so hard I nearly choke on my own disdain. “Jennifer? Naming anything Sunrise? She’d rather be buried alive in fondant.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Good point. What about something with... edge? Like The Bitter Whisk?”
“Closer,” I allow, tapping my chin. “But still too Etsy. She’s not bitter. She’s vengeful. Calculated. Sugar-coated spite with a lemon-zest twist.”
Carson smirks. “Death by Dessert?”
“She’d love that,” I admit. “But only if the ‘by’ is in cursive and the font bleeds.”
He laughs under his breath.
“Confections of a Sociopath,” I offer, deadpan.
Carson chuckles. “Bake It ‘Til You Make It.”
“Too motivational. She’d rather burn it down and serve the ashes with Chantilly cream.”
We fall into silence for a moment. Comfortable. Complicit.
Then Carson shrugs. “Honestly, she’ll probably come up with something perfect. Something terrifying.”
“Undoubtedly,” I say, smiling faintly. “I just hope she lets us paint the walls.”
“Think Blake will know you killed someone for her tonight?” he asks.
“Oh,” I say, admiring the moon. “I hope not. He gets so flushed when we sin.”
We both laugh, quiet and pleased.
The bakery will be in good hands.
Ours.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jennifer
The town’s been buzzing all day.
Carson ‘found’ Cookie this morning, face-planted in a lemon cupcake so sweet it could rot teeth on sight. Arsenic. Almost blue ribbon worthy. Almost. Which is how I know it wasn’t Cookie’s usual fare, she never quite nailed balance. Just bitterness and buttercream.
