I choke out a laugh. “No, Cameron, I’m not going to deploy my womanly wiles to get to the bottom of Jake’s daddy issues.”
At least not today.
His hand finds mine, and he laces our fingers together and gives me a grateful squeeze. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting,” I admit, unable to keep the proud smile off my face. “But productive.”
“Tell me about it,” he says, his tone bordering between demanding and pleading.
I tell him about my latest orders—a four-tier wedding cake for a couple who want each layer to represent a different season and a corporate event requesting two hundred custom cupcakes. I describe the interview I had with a potential assistant, a culinary school grad who seems promising. Then I show him photos of the mural Sophie finished for the entryway,the sprawling design that makes it feel welcoming and homey instead of boring and beige.
The order inquiries and commissions have been rolling in nonstop since news of Cameron’s investment broke. I had to wade through mountains of emails from weirdos and opportunists for the first few weeks—people asking for money; pitching their own “groundbreaking” business ideas; or worse, propositioning me with messages that went straight to trash. But then the world moved on to other “scandals.”
Huge shout out to the Devils player who started a full-blown WWE match during a game and got suspended for the next eight.
Sure, maybe people initially heard of me through Cameron. Maybe his name opened doors that would’ve stayed closed otherwise. But they remain open because of my baking, because of the quality of my work, and because I’m damn good at what I do.
Cameron listens intently, his thumb tracing absent circles on the back of my hand. He asks about flavor profiles, about the potential assistant’s experience, about whether I’m charging enough for my time. Of course, he also makes snide remarks about customers who are being “stupid dumbass idiots,” which is a new three-for-one insult I absolutely adore and plan to steal.
We talk until my stomach grumbles loudly enough to interrupt me mid-sentence.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” I ask, glancing toward the kitchen. “I don’t have a lot in the fridge, so we’ll probably have to order in.”
“Felix’s,” he suggests without missing a beat.
I laugh. “Again?”
“I thought you liked it there, too,” he says, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. “But we can order something else if you want?—”
“Felix’s is perfect,” I cut him off, squeezing his hand.
Tyler, the sweet and sensitive soul that he is, ordered pizza for the whole team from Felix’s after a big win last month. He didn’t make a big deal out of it or draw attention to the gesture, but he quietly let Cameron know that every single pizza was safe for him to eat. He ordered exclusively gluten-free, and no one else on the team was any the wiser.
It’s now Cameron’s favorite restaurant. I wouldn’t be surprised if his next business investment involves buying a stake in the place. The way his face lights up when we pull into their parking lot is genuinely adorable.
“You sure?” he asks, already looking more relaxed at the prospect. “I know I’m predictable.”
“You’re consistent,” I correct, tapping his nose with my pointer finger. “Besides, their burrata is incredible.”
He grins up at me.
My stomach flips, taking a momentary break from the hunger pangs.
“God,” he says, “I love you.”
“For enabling your Felix’s addiction?”
“Among other things.” He pulls me down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But yeah, mostly that. You’re sure you’re fine with it?”
I wink. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not particularly skilled at lying to make people feel better.”
He barks out a laugh. “Using my own logic against me?”
“Something like that.” I hover closer and kiss him. “And by the way, I love you, too.”
He scrolls through his phone to place an online order, his brow furrowed in concentration like he’s studying game footage instead of a restaurant menu he’s memorized. His hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends.
I love how he’s quiet and content and existing in my space like he belongs here.
