“Almost a week down.” He opened the door for her. “And an eight-hundred-dollar pool on the line.”

There was that, she thought as he walked around the car to get behind the wheel. He’d insisted on tossing a hundred of his in on the kitty. “Some would say our tribe’s a little too intimate when they start a pool on when we’ll have sex.”

“Those some aren’t our tribe. And thinking of tribes, why don’t we gather ours for the Fourth?”

“Fourth of what—oh. July. God, it’s nearly here.”

“We could play some ball, eat some hot dogs, watch the fireworks in the park.You don’t have an event that day.”

“No events on the Fourth, no matter how much they beg or bribe. A Vows’ tradition. We have a day off.” She sighed it. “An entire day off, away from the kitchen. I can get behind that.”

“Good, because I already said something to Parker about the gathering of the tribe.”

“What if I’d said no?”

He flashed her a grin. “Then we’d have missed you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her lips twitched. “I suppose I already have an assignment.”

“There might have been some mention of a suitably patriotic cake. And we thought we’d go over to Gantry’s after, for some music. ”

“I’m not designated driver. If I bake, I get to drink.”

“Reasonable. We’ll make Carter do it,” he decided and made her laugh. “We can all fit in Emma’s van.”

“That works for me.” It was all working for her, she thought as he turned in the drive.

She was going to have to keep a careful eye out for pianos.

SHE DECIDED TO GO WITH A FIREWORKS THEME, WHICH MEANT working with a lot of spun sugar. Probably silly to go to so much trouble for a park picnic with friends, she thought as she threw heated strands from her whisk to the wooden rack, but also fun.

She’d use the strands to form exploding fountains on the cake she’d already piped out in red, white, and blue. Some gum paste flags around the border, and you had a winner.

Enjoying herself, she began to form the fireworks with the sugar strands made pliable with just a touch of beeswax.

She stepped back to check the first formation, and nearly yelped when she saw a man in her doorway.

“Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t want to say anything when you were working. Afraid I’d screw you up. Nick Pelacinos, from the last-minute engagement party?”

“Sure.” He had a summer bouquet in his hand that made her think: uh-oh. “How are you?”

“Good. Your partner said I could come back, that you weren’t working, but ...”

“This isn’t for a job.”

“It ought to be.” He stepped closer. “Fun.”

“Yeah, it is. Spun sugar’s like a toy.”