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Jake chuckles. “The way you bake? People will be lining up.” I flush as he pours me a glass of sparkling rosé. The familiar scent of strawberries and peaches washes over me.
“Is this from Everton?” I ask.
“Yeah, just got it in yesterday.”
I bring the glass to my lips when a voice from behind startles me.
“Is this seat free?”
I turn and see Caden standing there, hair mussed, leather jacket covering his hulking form. I’ve never seen him wear a leather jacket before. It’s gives him a very bad-boy-James-Dean vibe.
“No. I mean, yeah. I mean…no one’s sitting here.” I gesture to the empty bar stool. He slips off his jacket and hangs it on a hook under the bar before he sits. He orders a beer from Jake then turns to me.
“Saw you at the lodge today,” he says.
I nod.
“Wedding’s soon, huh?”
“Yeah.”
There’s an awkward pause. Part of me is happy to see him and part of me wishes he’d gone somewhere else to get a drink. Part of me wants to insist he tell me why he left, as he was almost about to do that weekend I was sick. Part of me thinks it would be best to chug my drink and leave.
I seem to have a lot of parts at the moment, and I can’t reconcile any of them.
“So you ride motorcycles now?” I ask.
The corner of his mouth pulls up into a crooked grin. “I’m full of surprises.”
Jake puts the beer in front of him and he takes a long drink. I can’t help the way my eyes trace the length of his neck as he swallows.
“It’s nice to see the Screw doing as well as ever,” Caden says. “Hey, remember that time Reggie and Dev had their anniversary party here and Dev gave that speech full of cheese puns?”
I snort. “He still does that. I made some fresh baguettes for one of his tasting tour groups and he said they looked “gouda enough to eat.”” I roll my eyes.
Caden chuckles and he scratches the stubble that shadows his cheek. “Mom booked them a spa weekend as a gift for that anniversary,” he says quietly. “Dev shrieked so loud I though the windows would crack.”
I smile at the memory. Marion was always so generous. A truly thoughtful person. “So…how’s the case going?”
“I have a suspect,” Caden says.
“Really?” I scoot to the edge of my stool. “Who?”
“This guy who used to work for Everton. Carl Fillion. I just need to find out where he lives so I can go talk to him. I called Dad’s PI, since he offered to help, but he’s on vacation. I’ve been waiting to hear back from him for a couple weeks now.”
“That’s great, Caden,” I say. “A real lead. Wow. Did you tell Noah?”
“Yes, and he’s being extremely unhelpful. Keeps saying there are certain lines he can’t cross.” Caden huffs. “I did talk to Mrs. Greerson about the party the other day though, just to see if she noticed anything.”
“She notices everything,” I say.
Caden points a finger at me and grins. “Exactly.”
“What did she say?”
He takes out his phone and opens his Notes app. “She said: All those fluency girls—I think she meant influencers—with their poofy lips and fake tans were taking pictures of everything.”
I chuckle. “There were a lot of influencers there.”