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Luka must have sensed something was off, because he reached for my hand, holding our man against his chest as he searched my face.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

The endearment brought a tear to my eye, and I nodded as I reached out to cup the back of his head and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Yeah. My instincts are screaming at me to be close to you both. And you know me, I’m never one to brush off what my gut is telling me.”

Petal kissed my cheek and said, “It’s okay, handsome. I’ve never known a time where I haven’t wanted to be close to both of you, but then you invited me into your home and shared not only your space but your life, and I wish with all my heart this contentment never goes away.

“It’s like we are in a bubble of our own and when the outside world impedes, we grow closer together. I’m happy both of your parents agreed with our plan. It means there is something tangible that links us together.”

I scoffed. “They would have accepted nothing less than you being part of our family.” I glanced up at Luka. Sorrow filled my chest, “But you might not know, and I never want there to be doubts?—”

Luka cupped my cheek. “Sweetheart, Phoenix nailed it on the head. It wasn’t the right time for us and I know you think that you’d hurt me back in college, but I remember the time we spent together after. You continued to be my roommate and my best friend. I hadn’t realized until a short time ago, but we built this life together so when the time was right and we met Sunshine, our lives would stitch together to become seamless. You’re here now, and have been since the beginning, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. You and Phoenix are my life.”

Phoenix gave me a gentle kiss as he cupped my cheek. “We’re destined. Never doubt that, handsome.”

And just like that, the rioting sentiment settled, and I let go of the last of the guilt that plagued me for years.

CHAPTER 17

PHOENIX

Valentine’s dayat the bakery was a madhouse.

We’d predicted the heightened volume and special orders after we had our grand re-opening, but by noon, I knew it would be the most successful holiday in years. I loved baking and sharing food with my customers, but special occasions were a rush from the time we opened until the end of the day, and the smiles and camaraderie made me grateful I was a part of this community.

The bestsellers were the heart-shaped red velvet macaroons, the brownie bites with the dark chocolate chunks dusted with red icing sugar, and the red velvet cakes with a white chocolate ganache and red glitter hearts for decoration.

I even made a special batch of chili chocolate croissants for Burton and a lemon tart for Luka after we decided we’d rather have a quiet date at home.

With a quick glance at the clock, I blew out a relieved breath as I checked on my last bake, the final products to replenish what we sold out of earlier in the day.

Days where I could experiment with design and taste while keeping the classics for returning customers, and holidaysprovided ample opportunity to spread my wings, were two of the many reasons I opened the bakery.

Charlotte was perfecting her chocolate creations; and, of course, they were gorgeous. Arthur, who also worked miracles on social media, featured her exquisite creations, which brought in even more business.

With the timer buzzing, I removed the last batch of molten chocolate lava cakes before setting them aside to cool. The decorations lay completed on the stainless steel counter.

Aware of the bakery phone ringing, I ignored it since it was late in the day. Arthur or another employee in the front would answer it. I disliked phone interactions as much as face-to-face ones, so I never answered.

I continued working, pouring heavy cream into the chilled, stand mixing bowl, adding both vanilla and lemon zest until my best friend’s worried face popped through the crack of the swinging door, a frown etched on his face, and my heart stopped.

“Is it Luka and Burton? Are they hurt?” I demanded.

He burst through the door with his hands up in a placating gesture as he nodded. “Whoa, yeah, no. It has nothing to do with your men, but Suzy is on the phone.”

My brows furrowed as I thought about who that might be; a potential new client, or a friend I couldn’t remember making, a bride who wanted to talk about her wedding cake? I don’t think I’ve met a Suzy before.

“Who?”

Arthur let out a short bark of laughter before shaking his head at me, as if I were a child.

“No, it’s the fucking piece of shit who I hope falls into a volcano and feels himself roast alive for several minutes before the inevitable happens and he screams while he dies… well, his wife wants to talk to you.”

I tilted my head as I interpreted everything he said, when my eyes widened and I choked out, “What?”

“Your fuck-of-a-father’s wife is on the phone. For you. And she wouldn’t tell me why she was calling, despite me asking her about a million-gazillion times.”