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Bex ruffled her hair. “Okay, okay. Why don’t you get spoons and plates, and we can have them at the table?”
She was off like a flash, clattering around in drawers in the kitchen. Michael hauled in a breath. “She’s high energy.”
“No kidding.” Bex looked him up and down. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you in jeans. Isn’t that a little too casual for one of the mighty Briggstons?”
Michael glanced down at the faded blue denim. “I think you’re confusing me with the rest of my family.” A rueful smile tugged at his lips. “They’re the mighty ones, I’m just a humble school principal.”
She snorted, eyes alight with humor. “Sure you are.”
Izzy returned with a handful of spoons and a stack of plates that far exceeded their needs, deposited them on the table, and knelt eagerly on one of the chairs, casting meaningful looks at the bakery box.
“I think that’s your cue to dish them up,” Bex said.
With careful fingers, Michael removed each cupcake, handing the first to Izzy, the second to Bex, and keeping the third for himself. Now that he could smell them, he wasn’t sure this had been such a brilliant idea. The sweetness was overpowering. But when he dipped his spoon through the soft frosting, into the cake, and raised it to his mouth, he almost groaned.
“That’s so good.” Forget too sweet. There was no such thing. He’d happily eat two of these and go back for more.
“Megan is a culinary genius.” Bex spoke around cake. She had a smear of frosting in the corner of her mouth and he itched to wipe it off with his finger. “She’s dating Tione, and when the two of them get together in the kitchen, you’d better watch your waistline. They’re seriously dangerous.”
“Tione, huh?” Michael asked, surprised to find himself following the thread of her conversation. The guy had mentioned seeing someone during poker night, but hadn’t said a name. “He’s dating that sweet baker?”
Bex nodded, eyes widening meaningfully. “I know, right? Strange couple. Super cute together, though.”
With a heavy sigh, Izzy finished her cupcake and wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve. “I’m done now, can we go?”
Bex laughed. “Wait a few minutes. Mr. Briggston and I need to finish, too. Go clean your face and change into your dress. We’ll be ready soon. If we’re there too early, they might not have any cotton candy yet.”
Izzy’s face scrunched and she nodded, as if timing their trip to coincide with cotton candy creation was of the utmost importance. Then she ignored her mother’s instructions and turned to Michael. “What’s your favorite type of cupcake? Mine is anything with lots of chocolate, but I like the strawberry too. Mum likes the carrot best ’cause she says vegetables are good for you.”
“They are good for you,” he replied. “I don’t eat a lot of cupcakes, so I don’t know if I have a favorite, but this apple one is good.”
“Huh.” She looked unimpressed. “You should try strawberry.”
“Maybe I will.”
She nodded, as if it was decided, and bounded away through the living room to where Michael assumed a hallway led to the rest of the apartment. He and Bex finished their cupcakes together, and he wondered how they’d look to someone watching from the outside. Would they appear to be a family? Mum, Dad, and their little girl? The thought slayed him with how much, for the briefest of seconds, he wished it were true.
What if he’d met Bex before Wesley had?
What if he had every right to be here and no need to feel guilty for all the inappropriate thoughts he’d had about her over the years?
Michael had never needed anything fancy to be happy. The simple domesticity of cupcakes in a cozy home was all it took to undo him. But it wasn’t meant to be—at least, not with Bex. No amount of what-iffing could change the past.
“You okay?” Bex asked, interrupting his maudlin thoughts.
“Yeah.” He stood and gathered their plates. “How about I clean this up while you get Izzy ready to go?”
Her brows knitted together and he sensed she wanted to pursue the matter, but then she clasped her hands and nodded. “Thanks. We’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I’m in no hurry.” He took the plates to the kitchen, washed them, and returned them to the cupboards he’d seen Izzy take them from earlier. Then he paused in front of the fridge. A bunch of hand-drawn pictures were held to it with magnets. Izzy’s handiwork. It seemed she’d inherited her mother’s artistic bent. What traits had she inherited from Wesley?
Footsteps stampeded behind him, and he swung just in time to see Izzy plow around the corner, dressed in a blue princess costume with a crown of icicles perched on her head.
“I’m Elsa,” she announced, pretending to curtsy. “Isn’t it pretty?”
His heart nearly exploded. She was the sweetest damn thing he’d seen in his life. “Very pretty,” he agreed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Can I take a picture?”
“Okay.” She pinched the skirt between her fingers and held it out, like she was showing it off for the camera, then twirled. Michael snapped a few photos and slipped the phone away before Bex joined them. He wanted to remember this moment forever, but he’d rather not deal with Bex in mother-bear mode again any time soon.
