Page 39 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

He wasn’t trying to hit her, just making a gesture, but she flinched anyway. No one else seemed to notice. If they did, they stayed quiet.

I glanced at the women beside me. The conversation kept going. Nia kept laughing. Simone talked about a new boutique opening downtown. Camille smiled at something Tasha said.

I looked back at the house. The curtains were already drawn.

"You coming?" Jade asked.

I blinked.

"Yeah."

I made myself walk. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Or maybe some bruises start long before they ever show on the skin.

I didn’t mention what I saw. Not because I forgot, but because I knew I wouldn’t forget that house anytime soon.

Chapter Five

Maci

On Thursday afternoon, the scent of butter, sugar, and fresh lemon zest filled my kitchen. The smell clung to the countertops, my clothes, and even my hair.

I stood by the island and watched two golden pound cakes cool on wire racks while sunlight streamed in through the windows behind me.

One cake was for the meeting. The other was just in case. I didn’t expect the first to fail, but if you’re baking for the Lemon Pound Cake Club, it’s smart to have a backup.

I leaned in to look at the smooth crack running down the center of the cake. The crust had risen evenly, turned golden at the edges, and settled into the shape I remembered.

It was almost perfect. I dipped a toothpick into the glaze and tasted it. Sweet, tart, and light.

“Please tell me one of those is for this house.”

I turned to the doorway.

Zaire stood there with his suit jacket over one arm and his tie loose around his neck. He looked tired, but as soon as he saw the cakes, his whole expression changed.

“No.”

He frowned.

“You baked two Maci.”

“And neither one belongs to you.”

“That doesn’t even sound like marriage.”

He hurried across the kitchen before I could stop him and reached for the smaller cake, but I slapped his hand away.

What?”

“The glaze hasn’t set.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

I moved between him and the counter.

“You are not cutting into that cake.”

He looked over my shoulder.