Chapter Twenty-Five
Cate
By ten AM, I’d stress-baked three dozen cookies, two loaves of banana bread, and what I was pretty sure was supposed to be a coffee cake but had somehow evolved into a crumb-topped anxiety attack.
The kitchen looked like a bakery had exploded.
A very specific bakery. One that specialized in “I’m spiraling about a custody case and if I don’t keep my hands busy, I’m going to google ‘what happens when you lose custody of a child you’re not even biologically related to but have somehow become emotionally devastated by the thought of losing.’”
Which, for the record, I’d already googled at 3 AM while Gabriel slept beside me, one arm thrown across my waist like, even unconscious, he needed to keep me close. My search results had not been comforting.
“Cate?” Megan appeared in the doorway, still in her pajamas, hair sticking up in about seventeen different directions. “I smell cookies.”
“I know, sweetie. I couldn’t sleep.”
“You made cookies?”
“And banana bread. And... that.” I gestured vaguely at the crumb situation on the counter.
Megan climbed onto a stool, eyeing the spread with the kind of reverence usually reserved for Christmas morning. “Can I have one?”
“You can have three. But only if you promise to get dressed and come to the park with me.”
“The park?” Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really. I need fresh air before I accidentally bake us into a carbohydrate coma.”
She giggled, already reaching for a chocolate chip cookie. “You’re weird.”
“I know.”
“I like it.”
Something in my chest squeezed. “I like you too, kiddo.”
Don’t think about losing her. Don’t think about Tonya taking her away.
“Cate?” Megan was looking at me with those big eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “Just tired. Go get dressed, okay? Something comfortable for the playground.”
She bounced off the stool, cookie in hand, and disappeared upstairs.
I stared at the kitchen—at the evidence of my 3 AM panic baking session—and felt my chest tighten.
This is fine.
Everything is fine.
You’re just married to your boss in a fake marriage that’s becoming real while his ex-wife and her shark lawyer husband try to take his daughter away and you’re being investigated by a biker attorney who looked at you like you were a particularly interesting legal puzzle and...
Breathe, Cate.
Just breathe.
I grabbed my phone and typed out a text to Gabriel.
Me: Taking Megan to the park. Left you enough baked goods to feed your entire clinic. Try not to judge me.
