People in small towns know everything.
Want to know what happens when you get drunk at a wedding, and your best friend takes her eye off you? You buy a man.
I’ll never hear the end of it. People in small towns know everything. The last thing I need is to be known as the baker that buys sweet things instead of making them. I can feel my pressure rising already.
If I knew giving my crush a magical dessert spelled for seduction would lead to disaster, I would’ve tossed it in the trash. My enchanted desserts bring everyone happiness but me. Now, I have Paris in Springtime, tempting me with a man that would pour some sugar on me and leave me weaker than taffy.
Maybe a little sample won’t hurt.