Page 11 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter eleven

Cam

T he scent of rosemary and baked apples greets me the second I step inside the house, like a warm blanket wrapping around my shoulders. Gram always says food is the language of love, and tonight, the kitchen is practically singing.

I kick off my shoes at the door and breathe in deep. The soft clatter of pans and Gram’s off-key humming drifts from the kitchen. It’s comforting in a way I didn’t know I’d missed until I came back to Starling Grove.

“Is that cinnamon I smell?” I call as I hang my jacket on the peg.

“It’s my secret ingredient,” Gram calls back, cheerful as ever. “Don’t go spreading rumors!”

I chuckle and wander into the kitchen. Gram’s got her apron on—pink, frilly, covered in faded stains from years of love and use—and she’s stirring something in a big ceramic bowl. There’s a pie cooling on the windowsill and something bubbling gently on the stove.

“You’re spoiling me,” I say, leaning on the counter.

“I’m spoiling myself. You just happen to benefit from my cravings,” she says, winking.

I roll my eyes and reach for the photo albums stacked on the corner of the table. Gram always keeps them close, like she can summon memories at will.

As I flip through the pages, I find pictures of Mom and Dad dancing at their wedding. I should call them, but they’d shut me down after Zae had gone. Like looking at me reminded them too much of what they’d lost. They’d even left town, moving across the country.

I pushed aside thoughts of them, letting Gram’s kitchen comfort me, and turn the page to find a picture of me and Zae on our tenth birthday, faces smeared with cake. My throat tightens. There she is, frozen in time, laughing like she always did—wild and bright, impossible to forget.

“You always did love that picture,” Gram says softly. She doesn’t look up from the pot she’s stirring, but I know she’s watching me from the corner of her eye.

“I miss her,” I say, almost a whisper.

“I know, sweetheart.”

There’s a long moment where the only sounds are the gentle bubbling on the stove and the creak of the old ceiling fan.

“She’d be so proud of you,” Gram adds. “You’re really doing it, you know. That shop of yours? It’s exactly what you two used to talk about.”

“Sometimes I think I’m only doing it because she’s gone,” I admit, my voice cracking. “Like I’m trying to live for both of us.”

Gram wipes her hands on her apron, walks over and wraps her arms around me, warm and soft.

“There’s nothing wrong with carrying a dream forward,” she says gently. “It’s not about filling her shoes, Cam. It’s about walking the path you both paved together.”

I hold her for a moment, then pull back and clear my throat, blinking rapidly.

“Okay, enough of that,” I say, flipping to the next page and forcing a smile. “Let’s talk about how you’ve been throwing me at those alphas.”

Gram laughs, bright and unrepentant. “ Throwing is a strong word.”

“You basically catapulted me into their orbit.”

“Well, it worked for your parents, didn’t it?”

I gape at her. “Wait—you set up Mom and Dad?”

She waves a hand, pleased. “Of course I did. They were stubborn, too.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

I shake my head, grinning despite myself. “Gram, I don’t have time for... romance. Or a pack. I’ve got enough on my plate trying to get the shop ready and not have a breakdown in the middle of the candy aisle.”

“You’re allowed to have both, Cam,” she says. “Dreams and love. Business and a soft place to land.”

I sigh, pressing the edge of a photo. “I just don’t know if I can handle all of it. And what if it distracts me? What if I fail?”

She looks at me, eyes kind and full of something that makes my chest ache. “It’s not about being ready, sweetheart. It’s about being open. The rest has a way of figuring itself out.”

I don’t answer. Just flip to another page—and there, tucked between two photos of me and Zae holding buckets of candy, is a folded piece of paper. A recipe card in Zae’s loopy handwriting.

I pull it out carefully. “Hey... did you put this here?”

Gram leans over to look. “No... oh. That’s one of Zae’s. I haven’t seen that in years.”

“Heartbreak candy?” I read. “What even is that?”

“It was something she made up. Wanted to use some rare edible flower—what was it called? Oh, I can’t remember now...”

Her voice trails off, and then she wobbles.

“Gram?”

She puts a hand to the table, steadying herself.

I’m already moving, heart slamming. “Are you okay?”

She tries to smile. “Just a little dizzy. I—”

And then she collapses.

“Gram!”

I drop to my knees beside her, catching her head before it hits the floor. She’s breathing—but shallow. Her skin is pale, too pale.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, fumbling for my phone with shaking hands. I call 911 and give them the address, my voice trembling. “Please hurry. It’s my grandmother. She’s collapsed.”

I cradle her hand in mine, trying to blink back tears. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, Gram. Please.”

Somewhere in the distance, I hear sirens. Closer. Closer.

I press my forehead to her shoulder, whispering promises I’m not sure I can keep.

“Don’t leave me. Not yet. I’m not ready.”