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No. That couldn’t be right. He didn’t even like me.

So why did the thought of his hypothetical protectiveness send a tiny flutter through my chest?

Because no one has ever protected you since you moved to New York. Not without wanting something in return.

Clearly, I was delusional. There was no world in which Vuk would feel protective of me.

But the silence pounded as surely as my heartbeat, and there was a second, just one, when I thought he might?—

A car horn blared outside. Vuk’s expression hardened, and he sat back and took his phone out like nothing happened—because nothingdidhappen.

He’d confirmed my agent’s name. That was all.

I turned and stared out the window while I waited for my rapid heart rate to return to normal. Eventually, my pulse calmed, and the world righted itself as we crawled through afternoon traffic.

Nothing happened.

Still, a whisper of warmth remained in my stomach for the rest of the ride.

* * *

We made it to the bakery with less than a minute to spare. The receptionist checked us in and led us to the back, where the tasting area was already set up with coffee, tea, and an assortment of cakes.

“Hi.” Sammy Yu greeted us with a broad smile. He was a handsome man, tall and square-jawed with short dark hair and a laid-back demeanor. “You must be Ayana and Jordan. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too.” I shook his outstretched hand. “Jordan actually had a family emergency and couldn’t make it. This is Vuk, his best man. He’ll be, um, sitting in for Jordan today.”

Vuk greeted him with a curt nod.

Sammy’s eyebrows rose.

I guess it was unusual for a groomsman to take on such an important wedding activity, but Sammy was professional enough not to comment on it.

We settled into our seats. The receptionist brought out glasses of champagne, and I spent the next hour discussing the wedding with Sammy and sampling the cakes.

He’d created six flavors based on the preference profiles Jordan and I filled out beforehand.

Each and every one was mind-blowing.

No wonder people traveled out here to see him. I was afraid he’d be overhyped, but the cakes were definitely worth the hype.

“Once you choose a flavor, we’ll tackle the cake design,” Sammy said. “I’ll send you a few sketches next week. Do you have a favorite so far?”

“I love all of them, but I’m leaning toward this one.” I gestured at the raspberry almond. “Vuk, what do you think?”

He’d taken one bite of each cake and given exactly zero feedback for them.

That’s your choice?

I frowned. “Do you not like it?”

It’s not about what I like.His gaze sharpened.Jordan hates almonds.

Fuck. He was right.

Jordan’s aversion to the nut had completely slipped my mind, but as his fiancée, Ishould’vebeen on top of it.

That being said, why the hell hadn’t he mentioned it on his preference profile? We’d filled ours out at the same time, so I knew he’d submitted his.