Chapter sixteen
Lake
IthinkImixedup one of the cards. That one doesn’t look like lemon, butthatone does. Why didn’t they put sticker labels on the individual cake pieces instead of giving me cards, and expecting that I won’t shuffle them by accident?
There’s been a mistake. This time it’s not my fault. Not entirely.
Two of them look yellow. Did they give me two lemons? No, there aren’t two lemon cards.
I have a fifty-fifty chance of being right. This one can be lemon, and this one can be… yellow cake. What isyellow cake?Plain cake that looks yellow? Does it taste yellow? What does yellow taste like? Lemon?
The sound of the door opening is a welcome distraction, and I beam at Grady, coming through the door. He’s not working today, which means he’s in dark jeans and a soft grey sweater. The cold is starting to set in, and mornings are the worst. I didn’t even want to get out of bed.
“All tucked into school?”
Grady rolls his sleeves to his elbows. “That’s not how the saying goes.” He glances at the array I’ve spread over the table. “When did these get here?”
“I went and picked them up from Mum and Dad’s.” I was supposed to do it last night and completely spaced after everything with Riley. “Will he be alright?”
Grady cups the side of my neck and smooths a thumb across my jaw. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“Are you sure? Because after last night, I think you are.” My ass is still nice and tender from how well he read my mind. It is most nights. He knows what I like.
Grady kisses me softly, and I arch into the touch, rising up onto the tips of my toes so I can add pressure and get all of it. “If you’re talking about Riley, he’ll be fine. He’s a strong kid.”
He’s a fighter, that’s for sure. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“I don’t know,” Grady admits. “I’ve asked Quinn to get me some contacts, and I’ll see what I can find out from social services. I’ll pick him up after school, and we’ll go from there.”
“He’ll need to get his stuff from his foster home.”
“Quinn and I can do that; he’s not going back there.”
My lips twitch with amusement. “I think you like taking your badge out.” I like it too. He looks hot when he goes all “detective.”
“It comes in handy sometimes,” he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. Longer this time. One that makes my toes curl and lust pool in my belly, blood rushing south. This is so much betterthan going to work. Being with Grady is even better than flying. I never thought I’d say that about anything. He’smyultimate flight, and I’d give up anything to stay with him.
By the time he lets me go, my brain has officially turned itself off for the day. He’s looking at me like he’s asked me a question, but I have no idea what words are.
“Huh?”
“Do you think we have enough samples?” he asks in amusement, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Do they have anything left in the bakery?”
“The rest of the cake?” I reply, giving a lopsided grin. I assume they were all connected to a full cake at some point. It’s a popular store, I’m sure they do a lot of events. Not just weddings but all the things. I’m tempted to go back for Mum’s birthday and get something really special for her.
“Did we have to pay for these?” Grady asks, doing another sweep of all the slices and fillings. He picks up one of the cards, reads it, and then puts it down.
“I think Mum did.” I was too afraid to ask when she loaded the box into my car and told me to drink water so I don’t get a stomach ache eating it all. I could probably eat all of it, but half is for Grady, so I’m safe. Probably. Should I get a glass of water?
“I’ll talk to her about the cost.”
“I think she just really wanted to do this for us.” It’s not a quid pro quo thing, not in our family. We do things for each other because we want to, and we don’t think about the price tag. I mean, if Avery wanted me to buy him a new car, then yeah, we’d probably talk about it. But Mum is so excited to be part of this wedding that she’d try to pay for the whole thing without blinking. The least I can do is let her pay for some cake.
Grady flips the lid open for one of them—it looks like the coconut one, based on the white-flake frosting. He picks up one of the forks I put out and carefully cuts off a piece. With a handon my hip, he drags me closer and brings it to my lips. Our eyes meet as the cool metal enters my mouth. It makes the cake taste even sweeter. That might skew my rating system. It won’t taste as good to other people, because they don’t have a Grady. Which sounds like athemproblem. I’m not sharing mine or giving him up.
“Good?”
Swallowing, I nod. My turn. Except forks are for people who care about getting dirty. That’s not me. I pluck a bit off with my fingers and lift it to his mouth. His eyes darken, and he closes his lips around me, licking off the crumbs and frosting. My groin pulses like the nerves in my fingers are a direct line to it, and I bite my lip. Every time I think this man can’t get any hotter to me, he goes and proves me wrong. I’ll be a hundred and on my death bed and still find him ridiculously attractive. Anything I ever felt for anyone else pales in comparison to the way he makes my heart beat. The way he brings me to life.
