“That would be great,” Charlie said. “But we need some photos before we do anything. So Jake’s coming over after closing.” She kept her face as blank as she could. But she failed as the corners of her mouth twitched into an unavoidable smile.

“Jake is a really nice guy,” Walter added, noticing her smile. “He came to school and taught us a first aid class last month.”

“Hmm-mmm,” Charlie replied, only half listening now. It was no use. She had pushed it aside all day but now she was remembering the way the previous evening had ended: Jake had walked her home after dinner at the pub. And when he’d said goodbye she’d been certain, for a split second, that he’d wanted to kiss her. And she had wanted him to.

“Why is your face so red?”

Charlie put her hands to her cheeks. “It’s hot in here! From the ovens, obviously.”

Walter smiled, smarter than most kids his age when it came to reading people, and switched on the table fan. “Better?”

“Much,” Charlie replied, letting the fan’s breeze cool her flaming cheeks.

• • •

Jake took a few test shots, looking for the best angles and lighting. After adjusting the camera’s settings and lenses, he crouched to take a photo of the bakery’s glass showcase, and Charlie watched him as he worked.

She liked what she saw—a lot. The way he handled the camera, how intense his focus was, and how he had such a great eye for what would make the best shot, which he proved when he showed her a couple of the photos. He was an artist, and it reminded her of the way she felt when she was creating recipes for Souci, and now on Sweet & Salty.

“I’m impressed,” she said, as they scrolled through some of his photos. The bakery had always been charming, but he made it come alive.

“Thanks. When we do this for real we’ll start with some shots of the bakery itself,” Jake said. “I think the lighting will be great late morning. And then a few action shots with you doing your thing, okay?”

“Yes to the first idea, a hard no to the second,” Charlie replied. “No photos of me. I just want to showcase the bakery.” It didn’t feel right to step into her sister’s shoes in this case. This was Cass’s domain, and if anyone’s photo were to be attached to it, it should be hers.

Her heart pounded as she watched his muscled arms lifting the camera, saw his gorgeous olive-green eyes sweep the room . . . No, she wasn’t wishing he would turn those stunning eyes on her . . . No, not at all. Except all of a sudden, he was looking at her.

“You are the bakery, Cass. You’re the face of Woodburn Breads. Between your personality, and your skill . . . that’s what I want to capture,” Jake said. “Not to mention, well, just look at you.”