Page 49 of The Best I Never Had

Diana tilts her head side to side. “Maybe, but he hasn’t done it as much recently. He’s been keeping his focus on work, like he should, so he may not be up for it.”

“But if he was? The cake would be delicious. Plus,” Dawn says, glancing to me, “two birds, one stone.”

“Anyone going to fill us in?” I ask. “We aren’t just decoration, you know.”

Addy digs her elbow into my side and whispers, “They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

But I don’t have my sister’s patience, and if I need to hound bakers to get them to squeeze in another cake, I should get a jump on that now.

Dawn chuckles. “I’m surprised you didn’t guess. Owen will make it.”

Addy looks at me in surprise. “He bakes?”

All three women are staring at me, waiting for a response. If we’d actually dated, I’d have tasted his baking before. Vouching for him without trying it makes me nauseous, but I can’t admit I have no idea if he’s good or not without blowing everything up.

“He’s fantastic,” I say with forced enthusiasm.

Addy lets out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. “Oh, thank god.”

The door of the ballroom swings open and Owen walks through.

“You texted me?”

“Yes,” Dawn answers, rushing to one of the other tables to grab an empty chair and dragging it over, placing it right next to me. “Have a seat.”

Owen’s eyes meet mine. I smile, a stiff, nervous thing, and he gives me a small smile back, nodding his head. I take the gesture to mean he caught up to Camila and we’re okay, but my stomach still churns.

He settles into the chair next to mine, and I try to ignore the heat from his leg a few inches away from mine. There will be no giving in to the urge to shift closer.

“What’s up?” Owen asks.

“How would you like to be the hero of the hour?” Dawn asks with a glint in her eye.

Owen looks around the table. At his mom and Dawn who have matching grins, at Camila and Ximena who keep looking back and forth between us like cats scoping out a delicious mouse.

“Okay,” he says, drawing out the word.

“We need a cake,” Diana says.

A pleased smile spreads over his face. “Oh, yeah, that’s easy. You had me scared there for a minute. For what?”

Dawn looks at him like he’s a sweet little imbecile. “For the wedding.”

His eyes double in size. “For the wedding? I’ve never made a wedding cake before.”

She shrugs. “A cake’s a cake.”

“No, a cake’s not a cake. First, a wedding cake is giant and layered, not to mention all the embellishments. I have no idea how to do that.”

A memory surges of us at Camila’s wedding. Owen dragging me off the dance floor when they started passing out cake. Me complaining that it was my favorite song and I didn’t want to miss it, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He sat me down and demanded I close my eyes, slipping the fork between my parted lips.

“What do you taste?” he asked.

The flavors settled on my tongue, warm and familiar. “Is that booze?”

He chuckled. “Butterscotch Bourbon. Thought you might like it.”

I’d opened my eyes, finding him closer than expected. The lights from the chandelier reflected in his eyes, and I was struck by the thought that this cake is what his kiss would taste like. Deep and comforting, like wrapping up in a blanket in front of a fire on a cool night.