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“It’s a great neighborhood. I have my eye on it too, even though prices are ridiculous
. But who knows... maybe in a few years. I like the small-town feeling of it, even if it’s far away from the ocean.” My landscaper’s eye inspected the area. The terrain was sloped too, but less than Val’s. Oh, the things I could do with this place. “It’s a great place to build a house, raise a family.”
Way to overshare, Maddie. We hadn’t even gone on a date and I was already talking about a family. I’d shelved those dreams after the engagement fiasco, but Landon was bringing out my romantic side. All that maleness was overpowering.
I focused on opening my trunk. I’d packed the cake in a round, huge plastic form, which was designed especially for transporting cake... but the lid had fallen off, and my entire trunk was smeared with frosting and lemon cream.
“Oh, no, no, no!”
“Maddie, it’s no big deal.”
“Val said everyone has to bring something. I don’t want to show up empty-handed.”
“There’s enough food anyway.”
“I worked on this the entire morning. I don’t want to show up with nothing.”
“There’s a bakery on the way.”
“It’s open today? That’s great. It won’t be homemade, but at least I’ll bring something.”
“That’s a plan. What kind of cake was it?” he asked.
“Lemon.”
He dipped a finger into the mess, then brought it to his open mouth. I saw half an inch of tongue before the side of his finger disappeared into his mouth, and I licked my lips. Landon grimaced.
“What?”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry but that’s... terrible.”
“You’re pulling my leg.” I dipped one finger and tasted it too, and nearly puked. “Crap. I should have stuck to the carrot cake I made when I finished Val’s project. She’d seemed to like it, even though she didn’t eat much.” I was a good cook, but cakes were challenging. “Not that it matters, considering the Tupperware disaster.”
After I closed my trunk, we walked side by side down the labyrinth of streets, coming to a halt when we reached a delicious-looking storefront. Felicia’s Sweets.
“Yummm,” I exclaimed, rubbing my palms together as Landon held the door open for me. The shop was small, just an L-shaped display containing goodies, but no sitting area.
“Happy Fourth of July,” a woman greeted us. “What can I get you?”
“Do you have lemon cake?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. We only have what you can see here in the display.”
I squinted at the small labels under each cake, my mouth already watering. Landon pointed to an apple cake with a small American flag made out of whipped cream on top.
“This looks more homemade than the others.”
I straightened up, scandalized. “Landon Connor, are you suggesting I pass a store-bought dessert for a homemade one?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
“Wouldn’t have occurred to me.”
Leaning in, he whispered, “Always happy to save your honor.”
I wondered what other honor-saving techniques he had in his arsenal, and if kissing me against the wall was among them, but I kept the question to myself.
“Can you take out the apple cake?” I asked the vendor. “I want to take a closer look.”
