“Quite the open house,” Cass managed, steadying herself with one hand on the large island countertop.

Brett grinned. “Isn’t it perfect? I knew you’d love the soapstone countertops. Look around you. This is your dream kitchen. Isn’t it?”

Cass took in the Viking stove and double oven, the vast pantry shelves and innumerable built-in cabinets. “It’s beautiful. Whoever buys it will be lucky.”

“It’s already sold,” Brett said, walking over to the table. He poured two glasses, handing one to Cass.

“Oh really? Who bought it? Anyone I know?”

“Yes. Someone you know very well.” Brett clinked his glass to hers, then said, “Me. I bought it for us.”

“Sorry?”

Brett laughed at her surprise, then jogged back to the Viking stove to give his sauce one last stir while she took a fortifying swallow of her wine. She clutched the stem of her wineglass. “This is our house. We can start over here and put all the confusion of this past month behind us.” Brett came back to where she stood and picked up his glass. “I’ve had quite a day, Cass,” he said, as if everything was now sorted. There was a time she had adored his certainty about everything, because it made it so much easier for her not to have to make tough decisions. “I had a meeting with a huge developer. They want to buy three storefronts in town and turn it into a food hall, really world class. This is going to bring Starlight Peak to the next level. They even mentioned a Makewell’s Bakery wanting to move in—”

“Makewell’s Bakery?!” Her shock turned to dismay. Makewell’s was a trendy new chain that had started in New York and recently moved to L.A. Cass had stopped in the last time she had visited Charlie in the city and had been appalled at the fact that everything on offer tasted like it had come from a package—and that none of the customers seemed to care, lining up around the block for subpar baked goods just so they could post on social media that they had been there. “But that would be direct competition for Woodburn . . .”

He frowned. “I don’t see it that way. Starlight Peak needs this. If you get a Makewell’s, it means you’ve arrived. Besides, Woodburn Breads is like . . . comfort food, you know? Delicious, of course, but predictable. Makewell’s is the latest thing, and we could use a bit of that energy in town.” Then seeing her face, he added, “Cass, take it from me. A little competition is a good thing! Now, would you like a grand tour of your future home?”

She had to do this. “We need to talk.”

He sipped his wine, looking slightly concerned now but hiding it behind another smile. “Sure, Cass. Let’s talk.”

He picked up a little velvet box that had been sitting on her plate.

“Now, should I get down on one knee again?” Brett started to kneel.