Chapter 14 Be Yourself #2
“The guys were paid. Well.” He’s holding back a smile that I’d like to bite right off his pretty face. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t sound sorry, at all.
“I thought you liked them. The cake… the miniatures…” I feel weirdly dejected by this news.
It’s not some secret recipe or anything.
Just a simple recipe I found on the internet, wanting to make something homemade for his sixteenth birthday, the same year I gave him his first Bronco.
But I feel foolish having given him something I believed was a quality offering…
with a toy… every year since. “I thought…”
“Hey…” he squats down to my level. “I love them, Brooke. I love those cakes so much, you have no idea. And every time I get a Bronco from you… You’ve never even told me what they’re all about, but knowing you don’t give them to anyone else… I love them all, Brookey.”
“But they taste awful,” I whine. We have a competition to win, and I’m pouting.
“Well, I’ve never tasted one of the miniatures, but, yeah, the cakes taste bad.” He pecks my temple, then my cheek, then the tip of my nose. “But I do know Mom’s crazy cake recipe, and I think we could get it done before the time runs out.”
“Fine.” I let him pull me up to standing. “But is there anything else you’ve kept from me? Any life changing lies we need to confront right now?”
Owen winces, and I ready myself for what’s next. “There is one thing.”
He traces his bare foot in the dusting on the floor, unable to meet my eyes. I cross my arms over my chest and wait. We aren’t making a single morsel of cake until I get the whole truth.
“Ya know when we played the Newlywed Game that first day?”
I purse my lips.
“And they asked what I thought your best feature was?” He traces the lines of my mouth with his thumb.
“You said my lips.”
I will not kiss him. I don’t care how good this thumb feels. I will not kiss him.
“I lied.” His eyes squint, as if the truth causes him deep pain. “Your best feature is… your butt.”
Owen wiggles his eyebrows.
And because I’m a mature adult, I nip his thumb until he squeals. Before I know it, we’re in a flour war again, and I don’t care one bit about baking a cake.
“I just don’t know how we’ll beat the tofu beet cake,” Owen says, poking his fork into the strange piece of purple rubber pretending to be cake. “Ocean and Haven’s kids must be delighted on their birthdays.”
We’ve been taste-testing bites of each couple’s cakes while the official judges, some big wig chefs from Atlanta, decide on a winner.
“Bet you’re feeling a little bit more thankful for your birthday cakes, huh, buddy?
” I knock back a bite of Sadie and Dakota’s cake but spit it out immediately.
I know I’m clearly not the best judge of taste, but something is wrong with their batch.
Too much salt or baking soda or… I don’t know…
saw dust. It’s awful. Owen regards me, setting down his bite of their cake when I shake my head in warning.
I can’t believe this, but we might actually have a chance at winning this thing.
Sherry’s crazy cake looks decent compared to the competition, and though I haven’t been brave enough to taste it baked yet, the batter was delicious.
Particularly when Owen turned on our camera and let me kiss it off his lips.
“Whoa,” he says, pointing his fork at me. “What has you blushing like that, Mrs. Jones?”
I fan my face, rolling my eyes. I will not let him have the satisfaction of knowing that I’ll be thinking about that kiss until the next time it happens. “It’s one thousand degrees. Of course my face is red.”
I shove another bite of cake in my mouth, one from Tink One, the couple Gloria lovingly refers to as “the Yankees.” This one tastes like strawberry shortcake and is the best I’ve sampled yet.
Second only to Gloria and Clyde’s, which is some sort of coconut concoction that wasn’t really a cake, at all, but tasted like an island party in my mouth. I want the recipe.
“Are you ever going to try it?”
I glance up and see Owen watching my mouth like it’s he’s studying his favorite subject.
“Yes, I’m gonna try it,” I say, stabbing our cake with my fork and bringing it to my mouth.
The chocolate hits my tongue and is so perfectly moist, it melts right into my taste buds.
The icing is perfectly creamy and rich, and though there’s none in it, this cake tastes like there’s pudding in the mix. I’m annoyed at how good it is.
Picking up the remnants of my beet cake, I smash it into Owen’s cheek. “You’ve had this cake recipe our entire friendship, but you never told me how bad mine was?”
Owen only laughs and snags the last morsel off my plate between his fingers and offers it to me. “Since I didn’t get to feed you cake on our wedding day.”
I lean forward like a fool, but, dang it, that cake is mind-boggling.
Owen mirrors my stance, and when I open my mouth, desperate for another bite of heaven, Owen shoves the chocolate masterpiece in my face.
He spreads it across my cheeks for good measure, then kisses both cheeks with a proud grin on his face.
“Well, it looks like some of you have been busy.” Sumer takes her place at the podium, megaphone plastered to her hand and raised to attention. “And I hope you enjoyed this challenge today, because the prize is something special.”
Our trailers have been moved into a smaller circle, so we all chuckle much closer, thus able to hear the happy mumblings of a crowd of people who have eaten at least three decent bites of cake.
“After careful deliberations from our judges, we’ve come to a unanimous decision.
” She pauses for effect and camera angles.
All the individual camera people get a shot of the couples.
Owen flicks with his fingers, and I bite the air like I’m ready to take his finger off.
I might be crazy, but I think Todd actually chuckles.
It feels like we’re winning. “The winner tonight will receive a five thousand dollar check, a special message from loved ones, and a catered meal from one of the chefs present tonight.”
Owen links our pinkies. And I don’t care so much about that prize, I’d just like to go back to our trailer and eat some crazy cake.
“And our winners are… Tinkerbell Four, Owen and Brooke Jones!”
Owen and I are on our feet, shouting and celebrating as the couples around us cheer. It’s our first win here. Suddenly, his teammates are on the jumbotron.
Lance Breezy’s giant smile is the first one we see as he slides into a chair and greets us. “Hey, ya crazy love birds. We miss you.”
Titan and Drew both join him, squeezing their faces into the frame.
Breezy’s holding the camera out and is obviously the spokesperson for the group. “If you’re seeing this, it means you won your bake-off challenge.”
“Which is never gonna happen,” Drew says, matter of fact.
Titan scoffs. “Don’t say that. We want them to win.”
Drew merely shrugs. “I’m just saying, if they use the boxed cake Brooke usually makes, they don’t stand a chance.”
“It was homemade,” I mumble. Owen chuckles, so blissed out to see his friends.
“Dude,” Lance rolls his eyes. “If they’re seeing this, they won. So we get to tell them their prize.”
“The probability is—” Drew argues until Titan shoves them both and fills the frame. “You get sushi. From this fancy guy in Atlanta. Brookey, we know you love sushi and Owen loves you, so that’s what we chose.”
Owen loves you.
The truth resounds through every part of me. Something I’ve always known but have let fear suppress. Owen loves me back. I think he always has.
The crowd “awwwws.”
Owen’s eyes bore into mine.
And now I’m anxious to go on a second date with my husband.