Axel raises an eyebrow at me as I stare at him. “What is it?”
Wetting my lips, I ask. “Do you know what Cade is into?”
Axel grins boyishly. “I do. You should ask him yourself, though.”
“I did,” I mutter. “He said I wouldn’t… like it.”
Axel’s face grows serious. “It’s not that bad. He just worries. He’d never hurt you, little spoon.”
That just makes it even more mysterious.
It plays on my mind throughout breakfast, Axel making me coffee in my now favorite cup and Hudson cooking the most delicious stack of pancakes I’ve ever tasted.
But there’s no sign of Cade or Nate.
“Nate is on a job,” Axel tells me. “They wanted a sunrise shot. But Cade’s in his office.”
I glance at the clock. We’re all up early. “Already?”
Hudson puts yet another pancake on my plate. “He’s a workaholic. He’ll do a few hours here and then head to his actual office in the city.”
Frowning, I glance at the stack of pancakes. Making a decision, I jump up, getting a plate out and loading it up, adding some fruit on the side. Hudson and Axel watch me, Hudson snatching away the salt cellar when I reach for it by mistake.
“We need to label those,” I grumble, heading out of the kitchen to the sound of his laughter.
The nerves kick in as I make my way down the hall.
Maybe he’s busy.
Maybe he doesn’t like pancakes.
Maybe he doesn’t want to see me.
I’ve just about talked myself out of the whole thing when I arrive at his door. The dark wood feels imposing, and I swallow, shifting from foot to foot as I debate it.
Holding my breath, I tap lightly on the door.
Maybe he won’t even hear—
“Come in.”
Well, shit.
My hand curls around the door handle, pushing it down as I keep the plate steady in my hand.
“Gabrielle?”
I keep my focus on the plate as his footsteps round the desk ahead of me, soft thumps on the thick blue carpet before a finger tips up my chin. Cade stares down at me, already impeccably dressed for the day in a smart gray suit, his navy tie neatly tied against his white shirt.
His full lips twist up. “Is this for me?” he asks, pointing to the plate.
When I nod, he takes the plate from me, setting it down on the desk behind him. “Thank you.”
“Did you… ah… make these?”
Amusement flickers in my chest. “You’re safe. Hudson made them. You have him to thank for there not being a shaking of salt over the top.”
I fidget in place as he takes his seat behind the desk.
