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BECCA
I spent the next three days reliving the morning with Taylor in my mind. Wondering what he was doing, if he’d fully recovered, if he was going to call. I hated it. I was not this person. This silly girl who waited on a man to make her feel important. And yet, here I was, checking my phone every few minutes. Desperate to hear from him.
Was it the toe curling orgasm? Probably. But also, I just wanted to hear his voice and let that deep rumbling laughter wash over me because I liked him a lot. I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. I liked him more than I’d liked anyone, maybe ever.
“Becca, the timer has been going off! The cupcakes are probably dry and overbaked!”
Scarlett ran into the kitchen and pulled out the tray of cupcakes, which were, indeed, dry as a bone.
I sighed. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
“I noticed. What’s gotten into you?”
I wanted to say Taylor’s tongue and fingers, but instead I shrugged and stood up straighter, brushing invisible crumbs off my apron. “I just didn’t sleep well. A lot on my mind.”
“Well, do you think you could put us making these cupcakes on your mind? We need thirty-five more monarch butterflies made out of gum paste, and unless you want to do that, I’m going to be busy.”
I didn’t want to do that. Sugar art was not my forte. Scarlett would hand-paint and mold the beautiful, delicate butterflies without any trouble. I, on the other hand, would have a terrible time of it. She handled the finer details. I handled the rest. It was a good partnership, and it worked. But only when I held up my end of the bargain.
“I got it. Don’t worry.”
She gave me a look I would have reserved for our older sister rather than her, the baby of the family, but Scarlett always took care of everyone. Me, Clara, our friends, she was the most together out of the two of us. And I thought part of that was due to necessity. Growing up as we had without parents for most of our lives, reliant on Clara to take care of us, we’d had to become self-sufficient.
My phone chirped from the counter, and I flinched as my heart took up a frantic pace.
“God, are you expecting a call or something? You just freaked the heck out.”
“No.”
“What is going on with you?” She narrowed her gaze. “Are you dating someone?”
“Maybe. Kind of. Not really. I don’t know.”
“Rebecca Anne, tell me.”
I sighed heavily. “I went out with one of the guys on Clara’s team?” I said it as a question, hoping that would soften the blow.
“Wait, a hockey player for the Cyclones?”
“Yeah. We met on the ferry a few weeks ago and kind of hit it off.”
“Does he know?”
“What?”
“You know what. That your sister is the owner’s wife.”
“Yes, he knows. He doesn’t care. And neither do I. I’m not affiliated with the team. I don’t work for them. As far as we’re concerned, we’re just two strangers who met on the ferry. That’s it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. That’s what we’re gonna call it. Strangers.”
“There aren’t any rules against it.”
“No, there aren’t. But it kind of muddies the waters, don’t you think?”
Unease curled in my belly. She was right. It did. “Maybe.”
“Did you... make love?”
