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“The lemon’s light and tart, and paired with the rich sweetness of the blackberry, the whole thing comes together really well.”
She sounds like some cake connoisseur on the Food Network. But it’s not her words I’m focused on. It’s her mouth.
“What about this?” I find that tuxedo torte she mentioned earlier and put it in front of her, cutting off a small piece for myself.
“Mmm,” she moans, eyes closing in delight as she takes that first bite. My pants grow a little tight at her sounds of pleasure, the expression of bliss on her face.
“You’ve got some frosting right-” I motion to the corner of her lip, but she keeps missing it as she tries to get it. I reach out, thumbing the spot away, and watch as her breaths pick up, eyes wide as she looks back at me.
So I affect her then? Good to know.
“You like the tuxedo cake?” Laura asks, joining us again. “There’s white chocolate mousse inside and a dark chocolate silk frosting outside.”
“We’ll go with this one,” I tell her, still staring at Mackenzie as I lick the frosting off my thumb.
“Great!” Laura exclaims, oblivious to anything else. “How many guests will it need to feed?”
“About four hundred,” Mackenzie says, finally looking away. “So I think we’ll need two cakes, five tiers each.”
“Wow, okay. Do you want both of them the same or different-”
“The other will be salted caramel,” I answer.
“For all the tiers?”
“All of them.”
“You don’t have to pick those just because I like them,” Mackenzie murmurs.
“It’s what I want.”
She flushes, ducking her head down, and Laura smiles. “That’s really sweet. So when is the wedding?”
“It depends on the venue we decide on, but probably sometime next month.”
“How long have you guys been together? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”
Mackenzie’s jaw drops, her face taking on a panicked expression. “No, we’re not- He’s not- I’m planning his wedding.”
“Oh!” Laura’s cheeks briefly turn as red as her hair. “I’m so sorry. I totally misread things. I’ll just, um, go grab my notebook so we can discuss design.”
It’s silent as she leaves us to dash in the back area. Laura didn’t misread things, though. Mackenzie and I have more chemistry than I’ll ever have with my actual bride.
“I thought I told her you were a client,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Honest mistake,” I shrug, uneasy with Mackenzie’s level of apparent embarrassment. Is it because of me personally, or just because she always likes to stay professional?
“Not that marrying you would be a bad thing,” she rushes to add, reading my face. “But, you know…” she trails off.
“It’s fine,” I shrug again, not sure what to say.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel.”
“For what?”
“Everything, I guess. How Serena didn’t even want to be here today. How you have to go through with this in the first place.”
“Not your fault.”
She turns around to check on Laura in the back, but pauses as I say, “If I didn’t have you to do this with, though, it’d be a hell of a lot more unbearable.”
She glances over her shoulder briefly, hazel eyes sorrowful as she opens the door and steps out of view.
I turn back to the table, finishing off the rest of the tuxedo torte. If nothing else, at least we’ll have incredible cake.