Page 11 of Walkoff Wedding

I snatch it from his hand eagerly, but not before quickly throwing my arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I might cry over this fresh baked goodness, however sad that might be. Thank you for coming in to help me with this order too. I’m sorry Tad took it at the last minute. God, what would I do without you, Amos?”

Amos’s deep chuckle vibrates against my chest as he holds me tightly to him in a hug. “I’m your fairy godmother, so you’ll never have to find out. It’s nothing, Addie. You know I’m always going to be here for you. Now, eat up because you know I wanna hear all about last night.”

Pulling back, I take a giant bite of the fruity deliciousness in my hand and moan around the soft, flaky dough.

God, I would honestly do terrible things to have one of these… maybe two… every morning. It’s truly heaven-sent.

“Nothing to tell,” I hedge.

His thick, bushy brow arches, and the expression on his face tells me that I am not getting out of this kitchen without talking, so I hop onto the counter and sigh before taking another quick bite of the croissant.

“It was… fine. I can confidently say that I will never be a frat party kind of girl. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and not a great one. I’ll never get the smell of stale beer out of my favorite cardigan.” My nose wrinkles.

“Did you make any friends?”

My thoughts drift once more to Grant, and I shake my head.

“I did… not. Make any friends.” The little white lie slips past my lips easily, and for a second, I feel slightly guilty for it. I guess, though, technically, it isn’t a lie because we’re not friends.

He’s just a guy that I happened to meet last night and spent a few precious moments talking to about nothing at all. Just a guy that I… can’t stop thinking about?

“I—” I’m cut off by the door of the kitchen flying open and my stepfather barreling through, a look of annoyance on his face. My heart lurches in my chest.

Crap.

I quickly hop off the counter and shove the rest of the croissant in my mouth.

“Addie, I thought Tad told you what I needed from you today?” His jaw steels while he glances between Amos and me with disdain.

I nod. “He did. I, uh… was just grabbing breakfast really quickly.”

I want to tell him that I’m not going to do it, and if he has a problem with that, then he can shove it, but I don’t, and I likely never would.

Because that’s exactly who I am as a person, a passive doormat, and it’s the one thing I hate about myself. My inability to stand up for myself despite the things I’ve dealt with my entire life from both Brent and Tad.

“Well, please, take all the time you need. It’s not like we have a crisis on our hands,” he says with venom-laced words.

“But there?—”

He lifts his meaty hand, cutting me off abruptly. “The last thing we need is to not complete this order for the promised time, Addie. It’s for a prominent New Orleans business, and I’d like to not tarnish our reputation because of your dawdling. Which means that I need you to take care of this as soon as possible, minus any excuses.”

I nod hastily. “Got it.”

“And as a reminder, we’ll be celebrating your engagement next weekend with a party, so please be sure to be on time and wear something… appropriate. Need I remind you how important this is for our family and the bakery?” His jaw ticks.

Inside, my stomach is twisted into knots of hurt and frustration, but I press the feelings down, as always, keeping my mouth shut as I nod again.

I’m the dutiful stepdaughter because, at the end of the day, I know how important this bakery was to my mom. How much time, love, and dedication she put into every nook and cranny, and seeing it fail isn’t an option. It’s the reason that I’ve agreed to this stupid, archaic plan. Because if I don’t… we could lose Ever After, and I truly can’t live with that. I cannot fathom a world without it.

Without another word, he turns on his heel and stalks out of the kitchen, letting the door slam shut behind him, rattling the frame.

Only once he’s gone does it feel like the air returns to the room, and I suck in a shaky breath.

“Cher, do not put a single ounce of stock into what that ass says. You know I could put him in his place anytime,” Amos says, stirring the pot with more vigor. “A wedding? God, he has lost his mind.”

“I know, but I need you around, so don’t aggravate him into firing you. I’ve got it handled. I’ll figure it out. Somehow. I’m going to get started on preparing the order, but I’ll tell you more about last night later, ’kay?” I muster a small smile as I jump down from the counter and pat his arm. “Love you.”

“Love you, my darlin’.” His eyes are soft and his smile full of pity. Even though I appreciate the love and concern, I hate that I’m the recipient of his sympathy.

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