"Um..." She tapped her chin and gazed up at the ceiling, taking forever to answer. I might have briefly fallen asleep. "At least thirty."
"Thirty!" I exclaimed, so loudly she jumped. "Thirty is a lot," I said, dropping my voice to a whisper.
"I know. I love them so, so, so much. They're the best. Comfortable, go with anything, and can hold..." Her brow wrinkled.
I tilted my head. "Something wrong?"
She rubbed a hand across her eyes. "I forgot what I was about to say."
"Me too."
"You forgot what I was about to say?"
"Yeah. I think..." What I said didn't make sense.
We stared at each other in confusion for a moment and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"I feel so goddamn good right now." I pointed at the ceiling. "Four score and seven years ago..."
Tallulah snorted in laughter. "What are you doing?"
"I think I'm quoting the Gettysburg Address. Am I?"
"I have no idea."
Trying to ground myself, I took a sip of water and then placed the glass on the table with extra care. "I'm not feeling like myself right now."
"Me neither."
We stared at each other. Then our gazes lowered to the remaining samples. I lifted my eyes, she lifted her eyes, and we locked gazes.
"The cakes," we said simultaneously.
"Oh, shit," Tallulah said, slapping her forehead and laughing. "Rhonda gave us the wrong samples. I mean, Riley."
We burst into laughter again. What a mess. We were supposed to be deciding on a wedding cake. Instead, we were sitting in a bakery, possibly high, laughing like a couple of hyenas.
"No more cake for you," Tallulah said, reaching for her water.
"You either," I said.
I watched her drain the glass, tilting her head way back. A line of water dribbled down her chin. My lips parted, and my tongue thrust forward. I ached to lick the water from her skin.
She wiped it off the way little kids do—with the back of her hand.
We both looked at each other across the table. She truly did have the most beautiful brown eyes, and her lips were temptingly full. My eyes traced the curves of her mouth—the soft bow of her upper lip, the fuller swell of the lower one. I had the sudden, demanding urge to know how they felt beneath mine.
"Jamison." She said my name in a soft voice, as if asking me a question.
"Yes?"
"We should probably let them know we're finished."
My eyes shifted to a light speck on her dark skin. "You have a little bit of frosting..." My voice was thick and heavy.
"Where?"
"Let me show you."
