Page 70 of Hungry As Her Python

And then she hit me with it—maple frosting, spinach stuffing, bacon crumbles, jalapeños, candied apple sprinkles, and peanut butter.

By the time she finished, half the room looked green, even the boys who’d just joined us.

Jaxson actually dry heaved.

“Um, I guess.”

I wiggled my fingers, magic swirling, and produced the monstrosity she’d requested inside a piping bag.

Petyr slapped a skull-and-crossbones sticker on it, and we high-fived like a couple of middle-school pranksters.

“You’re really going to eat this?” I asked, sliding the donuts over to her.

“Hell yeah!” Evie spoke with the conviction of a woman on a mission.

“Jaxson? Oh, Jaxson?” I sing-songed.

“Yes, Bella?” the big-bad Wolf asked warily.

“I think you better have a talk with my cousin here, and the sooner the better. Don’t you?”

Donny was doubled over laughing, and Ryan wasn’t doing much better.

He kissed Donny goodbye, snagged a bag of cinnamon sugar donuts for the firehouse, and promised to be back later.

“You know these are amazing, right?” Conrad said, stealing my attention—and two Lemon Meringue Logs.

Which is exactly when Evie launched herself over the counter, stole the pastry bag, and started slurping down the nightmare filling like it was a delicacy.

A wrestling match ensued, Jaxson trying and failing to wrestle it away without getting jalapeño-peanut butter goop all over himself.

“Ohmygawd, Evie! No!” Donny wailed, but Evie was too far gone.

Lucky Jaxson.

Eww.

Also TMI.

Chapter Twenty-One-Bella

After cleaning up Evie’s mess, I’d gone into autopilot.

Feed people, that’s what I did.

That’s what kept my hands moving and my brain from spinning out into the kind of places where I started questioning my life choices and relationships.

I managed to whip up a few goodies for the rest of us, plus a pot of tea and coffee for whoever wanted some—which, naturally, was everyone.

Feeding people was my love language, and I adored it when something I created made someone sigh and smile.

Safe. Predictable. Normal.

That was my lane.

I shook my head and sipped my tea, pushing the last half of my Bananas Foster donut across the plate toward my, well, I guess he was my boyfriend.

“Damn straight I’m your boyfriend,” Conrad growl-hissed against my lips, licking a smidge of cream I hadn’t realized was smeared on my cheek.