Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Diego might have lived in San Diego for the past few years, but he still had friends in San Francisco. He’d grown up here, in more ways than one, and sometimes it was the early connections one made that stuck more than others.
Wes had been Diego’s childhood best friend.
He now ran a mechanic shop in the Castro district, and it was he who’d lent Diego the Harley.
After coercing Diego into buying him a late dinner, Diego had taken the Harley on a long drive through the city.
Because for some reason, he’d thought that going down Memory Lane would be a good idea.
Newsflash, it wasn’t.
He went to North Beach and idled on a quiet street in front of a small Victorian home.
He and Rocco had grown up in that house.
Their mom had died when Diego was a baby, and he didn’t remember anything about her, which he’d long ago convinced himself was for the best. His earliest memory was of being five years old and climbing the tree in the front yard after his dad had told him not to.
Not ten minutes later, he’d fallen out of the tree and broken his arm.
But even remembering the sickening pain of having the bones reset hadn’t taught him to listen to his dad.
He’d been twelve when he snuck out with some pilfered booze and ended up in the garage with the fifteen-year-old, much wiser twin girls from next door. His dad had beaten the shit out of him for that one, but even that couldn’t take away the smile and experience that garage visit had given him.
By fifteen, Diego had pretty much run wild and free. He’d landed in trouble at school with grades and other things, and he’d been given a choice—be expelled, or straighten up and turn his shit around. Fast.
So, he’d tried to turn his shit around.
His dad had arranged for tutoring, and his life had been forever changed by the sweetest, kindest girl he’d ever met.
Daisy.
As it happened, she’d had it just as rough growing up as he had, only she wasn’t constantly toeing the line—or worse, trying to obliterate it. She just quietly and unassumingly took in everything she could to make sure that she had the tools she needed to make it out.
And she’d done just that, leaving him behind. And with some dubious maturity, he couldn’t even be mad. He was proud of her. Proud as hell.
But, damn. He still missed her.
The next morning, Diego parked Wes’s bike in the bakery lot. Bracing himself for another battle, he strode inside for the dreaded cake tasting. He was right on time, which was why he was surprised to find the place empty.
The sweet scent of buttercream and vanilla hung thick in the air, clinging to him, stirring up memories he had no business remembering. Daisy had always smelled faintly of sugar and sunshine, and now the entire place reeked of her.
The door opened behind him, and he knew without even turning around who the clicking heels belonged to.
Daisy came up to his side and eyed the empty place. “Huh,” she said and pulled out her phone to check the time. “Huh,” she said again.
“Maybe Rocco and Tyler eloped,” he said hopefully.
She snorted and muttered something beneath her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I couldn’t possibly have gotten that lucky.”
“Hey,” he said, turning to her. “I’m a delight.”
She managed to keep a straight face for a full second before she laughed.
And that laugh—God, it hit like a sucker punch.
Bright, unguarded, the same sound that used to spill from her mouth when she’d steal bites of frosting off his fingers.
He shouldn’t remember that. But he did. And he found himself smiling too, before his brain caught up and his hand twitched, wanting to reach out and tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear.
He was clearly losing his mind. But… her laugh. It was like fresh grass after the rain. A wide-open road late at night with a full tank of gas and a full moon. It was both Heaven and Hell. Because damn. He didn’t want to be moved by her laugh. He didn’t want to be moved by her at all.
And yet there it was, cracking open something in his chest he’d spent years nailing shut.
A young woman came out from the back of the shop and smiled at them from behind the front counter. “How can I help you?”
“We’re here for a cake tasting appointment,” Daisy said. “For Rocco Stone and Tyler Houston.”
The woman nodded and opened a laptop to check her schedule. “Yes, I’ve got everything set up for the two of you.” She smiled at them. “You’re going to make a gorgeous wedding couple.”
“Oh, no, we’re not the couple,” Daisy said quickly with a laugh as if it was the most ridiculous, asinine thing that they might be a couple.
Even though, once upon a time, she’d promised Diego forever.
Her cheeks flushed though, and she couldn’t quite meet his gaze.
The denial came too fast, too sharp, like she was afraid of how close it hit.
She’d either forgotten, or she was enjoying twisting the knife.
Probably both.
“I’m the wedding planner,” Daisy went on, then made a vague gesture at Diego.
“And he’s the best man.” Her phone buzzed from inside her purse.
“Excuse me a minute,” she said, fishing out her cell.
She looked at the screen and then at Diego before answering.
“Rocco. You and Tyler running late?” She paused, head tilted as she listened, her eyes slowly narrowed.
“Uh-huh… Traffic on Divisadero…okay, sure, hold on.” She held out her phone to Diego. “He wants to talk to you.”
Diego put the cell to his ear and let his silence speak for him.
“Listen,” Rocco said quietly as if trying to keep Tyler from overhearing him. “So, we’re stuck in traffic. We’re not going to make it.”
Diego responded to the bullshit story with more silence.
“So…here’s the thing,” Rocco went on when he clearly got that Diego wasn’t going to make it easy.
“Daisy is one of my dearest friends. I love her madly, but she’s going to side with Tyler on everything.
I need your opinion in there. So, can you hang out and make sure I don’t get some sort of mango filling with a green tea cake or something like that?
Oh, and no flowers on the cake, okay? Nothing frou-frou.
And we don’t need any fancy, high-tiered cake with a figurine on the top either.
I’m gay, but the cake doesn’t have to be. .”
“You really think you should trust me with all that?” Diego asked, feeling a twinge of amusement.
“Please,” Rocco said, sounding sincerely worried. “Nothing frou-frou.”
Diego took great satisfaction out of disconnecting without making any promises. He looked up at the baker. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Daisy slid him a dirty look, which he returned with an innocent what look of his own.
“Be nice,” she mouthed.
The baker smiled nervously and turned to lead them to a table decked out with champagne and testing-size cakes galore. “We’ve got all sorts of different things to try,” she said. “But is there anything you’d like to start with?”
“Let’s just go with the basics,” Diego said. “No reason to make this a whole big drawn-out thing and keep you from…baking.”
“Oh, no worries,” she said with a smile. “We set aside an hour and a half for each couple’s cake tasting.”
Diego blinked in disbelief. An hour and a half? “Are you serious?”
Daisy shot him another look. “This is serious, you can’t just blow through this like you do everything else.
” She turned to the baker. “Tyler, one of the grooms, was hoping for mango filling. And he was very interested in green tea-flavored cake. He said you had cupcakes like that, and they were the most delicious things he’d ever tasted. ”
The baker nodded enthusiastically and looked over at Diego. “And the other groom…?”
Diego smiled, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about the day. “He’d want to make Tyler happy.”
Daisy took in his smile and blinked before biting her lower lip.
The way she used to when she wanted to be kissed.
And, just like that, he went from smug as hell to…damn. Something else entirely.
The baker took in the strained silence between them and jumped up. “Let me get us some samples!”
When she was gone, Daisy leaned across the table. “You’re up to something.”
Most definitely. Not that he could remember what at the moment. She was probably completely unaware that her blouse gaped, revealing swells of creamy breasts and a strip of cream-colored lace that matched her skin and made his mouth water.
“Diego,” she whispered warningly, her eyes suspicious.
Who me? He smiled innocently, and then the baker was back with samples of green tea cake with mango filling. They both dove in, taking their first bite at the same time. Diego nearly choked on his, having to fight to not visibly recoil.
But not Daisy. She moaned in pleasure and then licked her fork. And then her lips… “This is the one,” she said.
“I’ll make a note,” the baker said with a nod. “But you still have a lot of time left and a bunch of other options to try.”
“Great!” Daisy said happily, and Diego couldn’t help but smile at her.
Back when they’d been together, they’d eaten cheaply. Ramen. Apples and peanut butter. Whatever they had to do. She’d loved saving a penny, loved free shit. Apparently, she still did.
It was way too fucking cute.
But that wore off quickly. A painfully long hour—and way too much sugar—later, the baker was finally writing up the order for green tea cake with mango filling. “How many tiers?”
“Oh,” Daisy said, lighting up. “Tyler loves tiers. Maybe three?”
They both looked at Diego, who was still fighting his physical responses to Daisy enjoying her cake.
“No tiers,” Rocco had said.
“Three sounds good,” Diego said. “Maybe even four. So, we’re done here, right?”
Daisy gave him another look.
The baker seemed startled. “Well, not exactly. There are cake toppers. We’ve got everything from collectible figures to—”