Page 56 of Sparrow

He flushes like he was just caught doing exactly that and I laugh, unable to contain my laughter. I love it when something goes according to plan. Not the Mars flushing part, of course—how would I plan that?—but the garage itself.

“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” he says gruffly.

“Uh huh.” My words are full of doubt, but I don’t push him on it. “I’m going to town.”

Concern flashes quickly across his face, but then he looks around the garage once and nods. “Don’t stay too long. Check in if you’re gonna miss lunch.”

And that’s it.

Two days ago the garage was running badly and I wasn’t allowed to go to town by myself.

Yesterday I fixed the garage.

And today I’m allowed to do what I want as long as I check in.

My smile grows wide and triumphant as I walk past the men working and out of the garage to the driveway. Like I said, I like when things go according to plan.

Especially when my plans lead to everyone winning.

I hustle to the end of the driveway, intent on leaving before Mars can change his mind but then pause. I was so intent on getting out of the house on my own that I didn’t make a plan for where I wanted to go, and now that the whole town is my oyster, so to speak, I don’t know what I want to do first.

I look right, considering every shop I see, and then left. The bookstore, the diner, the clothing boutique…

Ah.

No.

The bakery.

If I’m going to go out by myself to explore, I’m going to start with a place I already know.

And I promised Penny last time I saw her that I’d stop by and listen to the new gossip she heard about Gunner’s business and whether he was actually allowing Bear to do as much as he’d promised.

Well, I have the whole morning free. And I could use some breakfast, a cup of coffee, and, as it turns out, some town gossip.

“Arden,” Penny gasps, shoving a bowl full of something into my hands. “Please tell me you can bake.”

I stare down at the bowl of whatever it is, at a loss for words.

Because no, I don’t bake.

But as I look around the bakery, I can see that they’re in trouble. There are only two people working, Penny and her assistant, and they’re obviously under water. Three people are waiting in line to buy pastries that don’t even exist yet–the pastry cabinet is empty–and the stoves look as though they’re already being used for something. Penny and her helper are mixing as fast as they can, but that’s not going to do any good if they don’t have ovens for baking.

I feel like I’m watching one of those apps where the characters are set up to fail.

So no, I don’t bake.

But I would never leave a friend in trouble.

“Tell me what we’re doing,” I say, moving into the kitchen and taking up a spot at the counter. “And hi,” I add to the girl I don’t yet know.

“Hi,” she huffs, giving me a shy smile. “Allie. And I’m glad you’re here.”

I laugh. “You’re probably going to regret saying that in about ten minutes. I don’t know anything about baking.”

Her smile gets bigger. “You don’t need to know about baking. Right now, you just need to know about mixing.”

She sets down her own bowl and moves toward mine, telling me quickly what we’re making–muffins–and what ingredients I need to add to the bowl still. She walks me through where everything is and how to measure it out, adding ingredients to my bowl as she goes, and by the time we’re back at the counter, my head is overflowing with numbers and ingredients and trying to remember where everything is.