The crew captures it on video.
Parker’s here too, checking out some of the shop’s popular “F*ck Mornings” merch, and Jameson is also here with his dumb undercut and stupid smile, and…hold on. What’s that? Is he actually holding a bottle of his beer? Just like at the picnic. He’s probably going to try to hold it up and get it casually in front of the camera.
Fuck that guy.
But then—yes! Let’s fuck with that guy. I motion for Corbin to come closer, then say out of the corner of my mouth, “Help a teammate out?”
Corbin nods. “Always.”
I tell him the plan, and he says dinner’s on me for the rest of the season.
“Fair,” I say, as I knock his fist in agreement.
Corbin calls Mabel over and whispers to her. She nods with something like glee in her eyes.
A few minutes later, the bride and groom settle in at a white table, with Jameson and Remy nearby. Everyone’s in place. Mabel grabs the first slice of wedding cake for thecouple to test and heads over to Caroline and Parker. Since the camera is focused on the couple, I take my chance.
I catch Jameson’s eyes and motion for him to join Corbin and me behind the counter. Jameson’s brows scrunch and he gives awho, melook. I nod, mouthing “Yeah.”
And that’s all it takes to reel him in. The status seeker heads over to us.
“Hey, my buddy wanted to hear more about your beer. You know Corbin Knight? He’s on the Foxes too,” I say, casual and nonchalant as I jerk my thumb toward him.
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Jameson says, excitement flickering in his beady little eyes. “Great goal the other night.”
“Thanks, man,” Corbin says, then nods to the ever-present bottle Jameson holds like it’s his security blanket. “Tell me more. Because I’m thinking a bakery that serves beer is the next big thing.”
Jameson buys it hook, line, and sinker. “You’re speaking my language. What goes better with cake than brew?”
Anything. Literally anything.
But Corbin dials in an Oscar-worthy performance, setting an elbow on the counter, looking like he’s all ears. “Tell me what you got, my man.”
Jameson launches into a long-ass description of every excruciating detail of his beers, while I slip away and join Remy.
She gives me a silent look, askingwhat’s up.
I just flash her a satisfied smile, one I hope reassures her that I’ve got this handled. She doesn’t stop though. Her eyes are imploring.
Right. She hates surprises. Don’t want to stress her out, so I lean in, brush some strands away from her ear, and whisper, “Just taking care of the best man with a little distraction.”
It takes a beat as she watches them, then she puts it together, her brown eyes sparkling as she seems to fight off asmile. When Caroline slides the cake her way, Remy lasers in on the maid-of-honor job. She takes a bite of the vanilla and buttercream concoction. As she licks her fork, she moans her approval. “So good,” she says to Caroline, but I’m hearing it in other contexts.
Imagining it.
Heat flares through me.
Remy hands me a fork, saying, “Try it.”
I take a bite of the cake, and it’s sweet and moist. “Delicious,” I say, but I’m looking at her pretty mouth, remembering the taste of her at the picnic. Craving another one.
“Told you cake tasting would be fun,” she says.
And so is fucking with her douchey ex. I sneak a glance to the counter where Corbin peppers him with question after question about beer he’s never going to carry.
When I turn back to Remy, she’s smirking at me. Partners in crime.
The videographer is busy shooting Caroline and Parker as they discuss whether the buttercream and vanilla is better than the chocolate ganache or the one with strawberry. The bride and groom quickly eliminate the chocolate ganache, and since we’re in the background of the shot, I presume, I drop a kiss to Remy’s cheek.
