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Twenty-One
Ford
“Ford, this is beyond,” Sydney said, shaking her head as she gazed at me. “I can’t believe you put this together.” She glanced down at her plate as the emotion began to fill her eyes. “I can’t believe you did it all for me.”
As the ocean lapped in the background, the sun setting over us, I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. “I know how much you love desserts—we both do”—I grinned—“so if there’s anyone who can enrich your dessert life, it’s Gloria.”
A woman who had been in our lives for as long as we’d known Brett.
That was because she was his mother.
Not only did she own a dessert shop in Miami, but she’d also opened one in Jo’s newest hotel in Utah.
The moment I’d planned this evening, a date night that involved taking Sydney to my parents’ house in Malibu, I’d called Gloria. My assistant then arranged her travel, sending the plane to pick her up in Florida and having a car service bring her straight here so she could start baking.
Craig had shared the kitchen with her, serving an extremely light dinner—nothing that would sit in our stomachs, preventing us from enjoying everything Gloria had prepared.
And that was five courses of dessert.
Each was a different kind of treat, ranging from airy to heavy, allowing us to experience varying layers of richness.
Over each course, Sydney spoke to Gloria about techniques and ingredients.
Most importantly, with each bite, I saw the happiness building on her face.
“Honestly”—she blushed—“I’m in total heaven. You couldn’t have planned a better surprise.” She licked some white chocolate off her spoon. “This is an experience I’ll never forget.” She glanced toward the ocean. “This view”—she looked back at me—“this house. Craig, Gloria. All of it.” She squeezed my fingers. “Thank you.”
She never stopped appreciating what I did for her.
She never took it for granted.
I didn’t get the impression that anyone had ever taken care of Sydney. She was a giver, not a taker. But I wanted to be that person—to ensure she never wanted for anything, to fulfill her.
I wanted her to know what it felt like to be cared for.
“We can come back whenever you want.” I released her fingers to take the last bite of my cake. A dense chocolate and raspberry creation that had fudge and syrup, a burst of tartness and a swirl of something achingly sweet. “My parents only come here about two weekends a month. The rest of the time, it’s ours if we want it.”
“I’d love that.”
“After Utah or before?”
She set down her spoon, laughing. “Considering we’re going to Utah next week, I’d say, after.”
“You don’t have to say that. Like I mentioned, the two of us can come whenever you want.”
“What about Everly?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, drinking the last of my wine. “My parents are dying to have her more. Escaping for a night a week isn’t out of the question, Sydney.” I poured more wine into my glass and topped hers off. “Didn’t you say that you forced the Turners to go out once a week?” I held the glass and leaned into the edge of the table.
“You’re right.” She sighed. “I guess it just feels different when you’re living it rather than being on the outside.”
“Time together is not something we’re going to struggle with.”
It was an issue with the other women I’d dated.
But it wasn’t going to affect Sydney and me.
I would make sure of that.
She ran her spoon across her plate, dipping it in several different sauces. “I can’t believe we’re going to Utah.” She brought the utensil up to her mouth, swiping something red across her lip.
She’d chosen my favorite one.
The sight made me fucking growl.
“I still can’t believe I’ve never been,” she continued. “It’s funny; for some reason, the Turners never traveled to mountain states.”
“You’re going to love it. The air, the scenery, the hotel I’ve chosen for us.” I smiled. “The fact that Gloria has a bakery inside the lobby.”
“I die.”
I chuckled. “You will.”
Her face lit up under the setting sun. Her hair blew in the breeze. Her eyes turned warmer despite how icy they appeared.
God, she was gorgeous.
I would never stop thinking that.
