Chapter 14
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT me here?” After Ford and I talked, I’d called to apologize to Alex for flipping out about the dress, but this was the first time we’d gotten together to do wedding stuff since.
“Elena can’t make it, Kindra’s got clients, and I need another opinion.
Plus, it’s cake. Even you can handle tasting cake, and it’s not like you’re going to pitch a fit about Meredith’s prices.
” She cut her eyes at me, and I could tell she was at least partly kidding.
Of course, that meant she was partly serious too.
“Ouch. I deserve that. I do. And I really am sorry for the last time.” I was.
I didn’t understand everything about why people wanted to get married yet, but my perspective had shifted.
I could imagine partnering with someone if it was a real partnership.
I still had trouble picturing how it might actually work.
The possibility was unnerving. “It won’t happen again. ”
She shook her head as if she doubted my sincerity—or at least my ability to follow through—but she smiled as we walked through the door of I Dough, Meredith’s bakery.
Of course, that could have been because of the melted butter and toasted sugar scent that wrapped around us.
It was impossible to inhale anything that delicious and not smile.
Meredith carried the scent with her everywhere.
As if she needed anything else to make her more lovable.
She was lovely and the sweetest person I knew.
With the herringbone tile floor and distressed white display cabinets, the space felt like stepping into sweet French vanilla egg cream.
Everything about it felt warm and welcoming.
Like an elegant coming home. The script font on her sign was a pale robin’s-egg blue and there were details everywhere—from the pulls on the cabinets to the small iron bird place card holders in front of the trays of cupcakes—that made me think of birds’ nests.
That fit Meredith perfectly too. I maybe judged her too hard for her romantic tendencies.
They ran counter to my experience, and it had been easy to see them as somehow shallow or unrealistic. I was wrong.
Of all of us, I think she was the one who wanted a nest. That idea of a safe, cherishing place to build something. There was nothing shallow or frivolous about that impulse. It made me smile to realize how much of it my beautiful, skilled friend had created for herself.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Meredith pressed kisses to our cheeks before ushering us behind the counter. Her long red hair was pulled back into a low knot below her white cap, and flour specked her blue apron in counterpoint to the freckles dusting her pale skin. “Come sit.”
She led us to a small table in the corner of her office.
It was set for three, with pale-blue porcelain cups so delicate they reinforced the idea of eggshells.
White dessert plates with tiny blue dots decorating the rims sat at each place, along with white cloth napkins and small dessert forks with stems shaped like delicate twigs.
As soon as we sat down, a young man wearing an apron and hat that matched Meredith’s wheeled in a cart with a tiered serving tray of miniature cupcakes and a pot I prayed held coffee.
After the dress incident, there was no way I was going to turn Alex down when she asked—or rather commanded—I join her to taste wedding cakes.
Her words were if I didn’t want her to make me wear an ungodly expensive Bo Peep bridesmaid dress, I’d get my ass downtown and help her eat cake.
Not exactly a hardship considering the threat, but I’d been up since six and in the office well before eight going over briefs. Caffeine and sugar would be welcome.
“Thanks, Mark. I’ve got it from here.”
The man nodded to Meredith before leaving the three of us alone with enough sugar to send a preschool class into orbit.
Meredith picked up the pot and poured coffee—bless her—into each of our cups.
“I’m so excited about this. Usually I sit here and watch the bride and groom eat cake.” Meredith moved the serving tray from the cart to the center of the small table. “This is so much better.”
“Why isn’t Erik here?” I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. Even more when I saw the twin expressions of disapproval on Meredith and Alex’s faces.
“Because he’s got court, and I care more about this than he does. I’m going to narrow it to my favorites and take those home so Erik can eat them off my body. Then we’ll decide.”
“We’re not going to have a problem, are we?” Meredith’s voice held a command I wasn’t used to.
Combined with the fact that I already felt like an asshole again, it was more than enough to get me to back the fuck down.
“No ma’am. We should all be lucky enough to have a man lick icing off our naked bodies.” Ford would do that. And he’d take his time, savoring every bit.
“Amen.” Meredith raised her coffee cup in mock toast.
“Which one are we starting with?” I motioned to the tray of tiny cupcakes. “I’m hungry,” I said when Alex slanted her gaze at me.
I was, and even if I wasn’t, they were cupcakes. I also needed a diversion from thoughts of Ford and icing before I did something crazy, like tell my friends about him.
“This is the pink champagne with raspberry filling and champagne buttercream.” Meredith set a pale-pink cupcake topped with a beautiful swirled icing rose on each of our plates. “The texture of the mini cupcakes is a little different than the cake, but the flavors are the same.”
She watched for a moment until Alex and I peeled the paper wrappers from the tiny cakes.
I didn’t bother with the fork, opting to devour the cake in two bites and groaning in pleasure as the tart bite of raspberry hit my tongue.
The cake itself was the same pretty light pink as the icing and both had the slight hint of champagne. It was delicious, and I wanted more.
“My God, this is good.” Alex licked icing off her finger, and Meredith beamed.
“It really is,” I said, collecting a few errant crumbs with my fingertip.
“Thank you. It’s one of my favorites. We can cover the entire cake with the swirled roses, which can be really beautiful depending on your wedding colors. I wouldn’t want to go too far from the color of the pink champagne, but we can ombre tint the roses to get a bit more variation if you’d like.”
“I think it’s perfect the way it is,” said Alex.
I did too, but I was having a hard time thinking beyond the other cakes on the serving tray.
“The next one is a coconut cake with fresh lime curd.” She set a petit four-sized cylinder of cake on each of our plates. “We have some decorating options with each of the flavors, but this cake is dense enough to take a smooth fondant coating if that’s something you’re interested in.”
I speared the tiny cake with my fork, picking up half of it with the tines. The center was filled with a smooth curd with just a hint of green. The lime was the perfect sharp counterpoint to the sweet toasted taste of the coconut.
“If you’re planning on having signature cocktails, this one works really well with both rum and gin drinks.”
Listening to Meredith made my mind wander to Ford and not just because of the cocktail reference—although I knew he’d love coming up with drinks to pair with cake. It was more the way she talked about the food she’d made. It was so clearly an art to her. It made me respect her even more.
“I love that idea. I’ll keep it in mind. We’ve just started to talk about the menu.”
We tasted almond with strawberry, mascarpone and coffee, and dark chocolate with a ganache I wanted to eat by the spoonful.
In the beginning, I didn’t think I could get enough cake and now I wasn’t sure I could eat another bite.
Alex wore a similarly over-sated expression, and I’d begun to see the wisdom of Erik’s narrowed-down cake tasting plan, sexy serving vessel aside.
I didn’t envy Alex the job of having to eliminate options.
Even riding an impressive sugar buzz, there wasn’t one of the tasty bites I’d have wanted to miss.
They were all delicious in their own way.
“I’ve got one more if you’re up for it.” Meredith didn’t wait for our agreement.
She knew us well enough to know we’d never say no to cake, no matter how full we were.
She served us each an almost humble-looking cupcake with a piped pillow of creamy icing topped by a small perfectly sugared pecan.
“This is a traditional carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and praline filling.”
I smiled before the first bite hit my tongue and kept smiling as the toasted pecan taste combined with the rich carrot cake and slight tang of the cream cheese frosting. It was the praline that stayed with me. That made me think of kissing Ford. Of snuggling in his arms on my sofa.
“My cake did not put that look on your face. What are you thinking of?”
“She’s right. That’s a sex look,” said Alex, pulling me back to the present. “What gives?”
“Nothing gives.” Denial rarely worked with my friends, but it was still a decent starting point.
“Are you buying it?” Alex shifted her gaze from me to Meredith, who shook her head. “Me either. Who is he?”
“Why are you assuming it’s a he?” Answering a question with a question was a solid secondary tact, but also unlikely to work.
“My cream cheese frosting is legendary, but it didn’t put that look on your face.”
“The taste of the pralines just reminded me of something. It’s not a big deal.” Tell part of the truth and hope for an escape.
“Something or someone?” asked Alex, cutting off that last available route.
“Someone. But it’s not a big deal. Nothing serious.”
“That expression looked serious.” Meredith’s face held so much optimism. It made me want to believe in things I had no business considering.