Tracey had never been happier, felt more respected, cherished, or loved. That was a big word she was pretty sure Diesel would never say, but how else could she explain the way he looked after her before himself or anyone else? They didn’t take long walks by the seashore or stargaze and share hopes of a fairy-tale future, like some couples did. He hadn’t promised her the world, or anything in so many words, beyond his vow to protect her. But he shared himself and his past, which was more meaningful than empty promises, and she felt his love for her in all the little things he did. Like the breakfasts he made for them every morning and the zinnias in a beer-bottle vase she’d found in her cubby at work. She felt it in the motorcycle rides they took on Sundays, each of which had included strolls through gardens and making out behind the cover of bushes and trees.

A group of girls swarmed Josie’s table, drawing Tracey’s attention.

“Look, you guys!” exclaimed the one wearing a white sash with BRIDE TO BE written on it in gold. “Bride and groom gingerbread cookies. What a great idea!”

“Feel free to try them,” Tracey offered, and the girls each grabbed one.

Their booth had been busy all morning. Josie and Tracey wore matching GINGER ALL THE DAYS T-shirts, and Finlay and Izzy wore FINLAY’S CATERING shirts, making it easy for customers to know who to ask about their offerings. Finlay was going over a wedding cake brochure with another bride-to-be, and Izzy was schmoozing the girl’s mother-in-law, who was raving about Finlay’s elaborate wedding cakes. Josie chatted with a group of women about her display of wedding-themed gingerbread houses, and Sarah had set up a hairdressing chair at one end of their booth, where she was doing free bridal hairstyles. There was a line ten women deep waiting to sit in her chair. Tracey had never thought much about having a real career, but as she watched her friends building their businesses, she wished she had something more, too.

She didn’t have much time to think about that as the group of girls moved on to the next booth, and Penny, Dixie, and Roni burst through the crowd in their shorts and cute tops, giggling and stuffing their faces with cupcakes.

“It’s a madhouse in here. Want some?” Roni offered Tracey the last bite of her cupcake.

“No thanks,” Tracey said. “I’ve eaten about ten cookies already.”

“I do!” Penny snagged the piece off Roni’s napkin and popped it into her mouth as Finlay finished with her customer and joined them.

“You finished both of yours already?” Dixie asked.

Penny put her hand on her barely there baby bump. “Don’t cupcake shame me. It’s the pregnancy hormones. Sex and food are all I think about these days.”