The second was chocolate with salted caramel. Decadent, rich, the kind of cake that made you close your eyes and savor it.
I did exactly that.
When I opened my eyes, Dex was watching me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just… you really commit to the experience.”
Heat crept up my neck. “It’s good cake!” I protested trying to remember if I’d made some type of food orgasm sound and getting ready to die from mortification.
“It is.” But he was still looking at me in a way that made my skin tingle.
We moved to the third sample, lemon with elderflower. Dex took one bite and his face scrunched up.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“Too tart?” I asked, grinning.
“It’s like someone made a cake out of furniture polish and punishment.”
“Furniture polish?” I was laughing harder now. “You can’t say that to Delaney.”
“I’m saying it to you. You’re the one who has to help me make this decision. This is one of the extras, right? They can’t have this on the short list.” He pushed the plate away with exaggerated disgust. “Definitely not that one.”
I couldn’t help it I laughed. It wasn’t one of Trace and Delaney’s choices but there was a tiny part of me wanting to plot how to get a slice of this onto Dex’s plate just to see what happened. “No, it’s one of the extras.” I was still smiling. “Though I’ve never tasted furniture polish, so I’ll have to take your word on that one.”
“Lucky you.”
Something had shifted. We’d both relaxed without meaning to, the tension easing into something warmer. Easier.
We tried the almond—too subtle. The red velvet—almost, but not quite right for Trace and Delaney. The champagne—delicious but maybe too fancy.
“Okay,” I said finally, reviewing my notes. “Trace and Delaney couldn’t decide between the chocolate caramel and the vanilla and raspberry.”
Dex leaned back in his chair, considering. “The vanilla and raspberry one is really good, but is it too simple? This is Trace and Delaney’s happily ever after. I know it’s a farm wedding, barn reception, and they keep talking about low key even though I’m not entirely sure what that means. But this means something, right. This is special. They almost didn’t get… well, anything.”
“You’re right.” I looked at my notes again. “The chocolate caramel feels more them. Decadent but grounded. Special but not pretentious. But… occasion worthy.”
“Exactly.” He met my eyes. “Chocolate caramel it is.”
“Done.”
We sat there for a moment, and I realized I was disappointed it was over. Which was insane. We’d just tasted cake. It shouldn’t have been this enjoyable. It shouldn’t have felt like a date.
But it had.
Dex caught me photographing him mid-thought, his expression unguarded.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Candids. For the wedding album.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “You’re part of this too. Part of their story.”
Something flickered across his face. “I’m just the guy who ate cake and gave opinions.”
“You’re family,” I said, and his eyes snapped to mine.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess I am.”
