Chapter 23: Ryan

Trina nearly falls on her face as she enters the cake shop on her lunch break, a strong wind that's picked up pushes the door open harder than she was ready for and pulling her in. Her black heels slide underneath her.

"Hey there," Ryan says comes out of nowhere, as does his arm, wrapping around her waist. Trina recovers herself quickly and moves away as soon as she can. The ghost of his toned forearm against her sends a shiver up her spine.

"Hello again," he says. An errant curl has fallen onto Ryan's forehead and Trina can't take her eyes off it, doing everything in her power not to lick her lips at the man she spent the rest of yesterday evening trying to get out of her head.

"Hi." Trina's hand comes up to her face to tug a strand of hair from her lips, which she had coated with lip balm before leaving the office minutes ago. As she tucks the final tendril behind her ear, Trina realizes that the shop is silent and that Ryan's watching her intently.

A car horn sounds outside and Ryan's eyes snap back to reality. "How's your cake coming along?"

"Oh. Not well," Trina huffs, fixing her handbag and removing the lanyard from around her neck, fiddling with the clip.

"Oh no," Ryan says. "What happened?"

Trina shrugs her shoulders and waves her hands. "I have no idea, but what came out of the oven couldn't be called a cake!" Ryan raises his eyebrows. "I think the measurements were off or something? Whatever it was, the whole thing was a waste of time."

Ryan grimaces.

"I remember seeing something I liked yesterday. Can you show me where your cake mix is?" Trina chuckles.

"Of course! Follow me." Ryan waves his hand to follow him to the wooden shelves stacked with multiple brown bags with orange 'Miller's Cake Shop' labels.

"You make this yourself, too?"

"Yeah," Ryan says. "All blended by yours truly. All-natural, all organic. Just add liquid; Hell! you can even make them vegan."

"Wow!" Trina looks over them, her mouth waters as she reads all the flavors. "These all look delicious, I don't know what to choose."

"Would you like to try one?"

"Huh—sure why not," Trina says slurring. "But as long as it's not too much trouble? I don't want to eat anyone's cake."

"No worries."

Ryan heads over to the table in the corner with three spindly chairs arranged around it and Trina follows him. She puts her bag on one of the others and sets her lanyard down. She notices Ryan glance at it, and Trina is glad that she'd made her hair for the day.

"What does the 'T' stand for?" he asks.

"Oh, it's just my name," she says thinking she heard Ryan whisper something under his breath.

"Pardon?" she asks.

Ryan shakes his head. "Nothing, just cake!" he says. "You don't have any allergies, do you?" She shakes her head. "Great, I'll be back, Trinnie." Ryan dashes off and she can't help but smile hearing his giddiness.

Ryan returns from the kitchen carrying a white cake stand and places it on the table. He takes a seat across from her, and Trina switches her attention to it, having spent the time he was gone admiring the interior design of the shop. It has a pleasant aesthetic of white walls and dark wood, with touches of orange, black, and brass in the furnishings, artwork and light fixings.

"Wow," Trina says, looking at the cake in front of her. It was cut into eight slices, and instead of being one flavor, each was different.

Ryan turns the stand as he points:

"So, this slice is lemon zest and fresh raspberry with raspberry coulis-rippled buttercream.

The second is lemon mousse with lemon buttercream and shavings of white chocolate.

The third is Madagascan vanilla topped with whipped cream and seasonal berries.

The fourth is three-shade vanilla with vanilla buttercream.

The fifth is a dark chocolate chip with orange zest buttercream.

The sixth is red velvet with cream cheese frosting.

The seventh is carrot with orange zest cream cheese frosting.

And the last is a rich and moist chocolate with dark chocolate ganache."

Trina can feel her mouth-watering at the prospect of frosting all of them. She's glad she didn't pick up her usual chicken and avocado wrap on her way here; a little cake won't hurt for lunch, particularly on a week like this, right? She looks back up at him, hoping there's no drool on her shirt.

"Wow," Trina says again. "These look so delicious!"

Ryan passes her a cake fork and a heavy napkin. "Dig in," he says as he turns the cake plate around so the raspberry slice is the one directly in front of her. "I recommend you start with the lightest and then work your way around to the dark chocolate one, I think you can enjoy the textures and flavors better. Oh, and you'll want to cleanse the plate between each." Ryan jumps up and grabs a carafe of water and a couple of glasses from behind the register, causing the table to wobble as he sits in haste. Trina glances in amusement as he turns the cake stand around and lifts the first slice down onto a small plate in the stack he brought over earlier.

Trina digs in, glad to see that he's also holding a fork and is joining her, making her feel a lot less guilty about this extravagance. The flavors explode on her tongue, the hint of lemon pairing perfectly with the tang of the raspberries, the gentle sweetness of buttercream balancing beautifully. Trina could easily devour the whole slice, but she'd never been able to manage the others, so instead, she reaches for the glass of water, takes a sip and then moves onto the next one.

They chat as they eat, each slice different, but just as good as the other. Trina asks him about the shop and when it was started it; Ryan tells her about their original location, and about how much work it took to get it to this one. He shows her some photos on his phone of the renovations they did.

After that, Trina shows him some pictures of Kiara, her youngest niece, for whom she's attempting to make this cake, and Ryan says she really is one of the cutest kids he's ever seen.

It's easy, talking to Ryan; perhaps easier than Trina's found it to talk to someone in a while, particularly someone she'll admit that she likes. Trina only finds this instant level of comfort with women, which explains why her last long-term relationship and her most recent flings have been women. Trina doesn't know if she's ever connected with anyone this instantly before.

The ease makes her wonder if he's too good to be true? Whether, in a moment, the other shoe will drop? However, Ryan's casual mention that he's single causes her stomach to flutter; her body's telling her literally to follow her gut and switch off her brain for a second.

Trina is smiling and blushing like a fool now. Ryan is decent enough not to draw attention to it. She's trying to work out how to let him know that she's single too, and most definitely interested—she can't stop herself from licking her lips. The door opens and Ryan turns to see who's entered, the angle perfectly displaying his chiseled jawline and neck muscles.

"Hey, Mom," says Ryan, and now Trina knows the connection, she can clearly see the resemblance. "Any luck with the strawberries?"

"Yes," his mother says putting several baskets of the ruby red fruit on the counter before wandering over to them at the table. "Ollie's Organics just had a delivery and gave me a deal on the price."

"That's great!" Ryan says, turning back to Trina and raising an eyebrow. "Supply-chain issues," he says and Trina nods.

"Which's your favorite, sweetheart?" Ryan's mother says, with the name 'Sarah' embroidered in orange on her chef's jacket.

"Chocolate," Trina gushes. "Though, I think I'll go for the vanilla this time."

"Yes, vanilla is our most popular for weddings, a real crowd-pleaser," says Sarah.

"Oh, no," she says. "I'm not—"

"When are you getting married, dear? We haven't got a lot of slots left this side of Christmas, I hope this one's told you that?" She nudges Ryan.

Trina glances at Ryan and knows the feeling.

"Sorry. I'm not getting married," Trina says. Sarah pucks her lips. "Well, It's just me."

"Oh," Sarah says. "I—"

"Trina's buying some cake mix for this weekend," Ryan says with his eyes fixed on Trina.

"I see," says Sarah, her eyebrows furrows towards her son. She turns to take the strawberries off the counter. "Ryan, could I speak to you in the kitchen for a minute, please? I need to ask you about the supply of caramel."

Ryan's head whips over resembling that of a kid who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Sure," he says, slowly, as he rises from the table. "I'll—be right back," he says before slipping through the kitchen door.

Trina fiddles with the napkin in her lap, trying, and failing, not to eavesdrop on what's happening in the kitchen, catching snippets here and there.

"It's not a big deal, Mama!"

"That service is for weddings only, Ryan."

"I'm trying to help her out—Mom."

"That costs $50!"

Trina's eyes widen feeling guilty that she has gotten Ryan into trouble. She looks at her watch; seeing she needs to head back to the office soon. Trina starts to tidy the table, brushing the crumbs into her hand and then onto one of the empty plates, stacking their glasses and refolding the napkins. Ryan and Sarah's voices are still echoing through from the kitchen.

"If this is because of some crush of yours, Mr. Ryan—"

Trina trips over the leg of one of the chairs as she hurries to gather her things, hanging her lanyard back around her neck, nearly ripping an earring out in the process. She's deciding whether she's going to stay or flee when Ryan reappears on the shop floor, red-faced and with his hair mussed up.

"Thanks for letting me taste the cakes," Trina says, wringing her hands.

"No problem," Ryan says, perhaps a little too loudly. "Did you want to buy some cake mix?"

"Yeah, why not. I'll take the vanilla, please." Trina decides she's going to go along, ignoring what just happened.

"Here you are," Ryan says, reaching up to the shelf and grabbing one of the bags. "This should be the right amount for your tin."

Trina is impressed that Ryan remembers what size tin she bought yesterday because she certainly doesn't!

He rings her up on the register. "That'll be $7.50."

"What about the cake frosting?"

"Oh no, that's fine, don't worry." Trina hands over a twenty-dollar bill. She then grabs the bag and hurries towards the door.

"Wait, ma'am!" Ryan calls after her. "You forgot your change."

"Keep it," Trina says stepping over the doormat while heading out.