Page 151 of With a Cherry On Top

“Oh, wow,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Yes, I had a meltdown for a while. But then I figured...maybe it’s for the best, because there’s this guy I know who’d be perfect for the job.”

I blink.Me? Amelie’s sous-chef?

She bites her bottom lip. “What do you think?”

“I...” I think it’s insane. I don’t have the experience for a role like that. Hell, I’ve been professionally cooking for a handful of weeks. “I thought you said a restaurant kitchen is like a dance, and I didn’t know the steps. I don’t want to mess up your choreography.”

She grins. “I did say that. Then I sent you to take that course. Aaron, I’ve always known you have incredible talent, you only lacked the basics. But you don’t anymore. And honestly, you’re wasted as a private chef. You’d probably be wasted at Daisy too, because you could land far bigger jobs.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Which is why I can’t pass up the chance to have someone like you in my kitchen.” For a moment, she looks nervous.Reallynervous. “Tell me you’ll think about it.”

“Of course I will.”

I’d be crazy not to.

“Aaron!”

Primrose’s voice rings out as soon as I step out of the car. She moves down the porch steps with an easy grace, her blonde and pink hair pulled into a loose ponytail, strands escaping to frame her face. Despite the exhaustion she must be battling, she still radiates warmth.

“Hey, Prim.” I meet her halfway, pulling her into a firm hug. She smells like wild strawberries, a scent that always lingers around their house. “You look good.”

“I feel good—tired, but good,” she says as she pulls back. “Let me tell you, twins are no joke.”

“Oh, I bet.”

When my gaze flicks toward the house, her shoulders roll back. “I hope you’re not here to see the girls. Your mom just got them to fall asleep, and if you wake them up, I’ll have to kill you.”

I make apfftsound. “Show up without warning? I’m a parent too, you know.”

“Right, right.” She clicks her tongue. “Oh, Logan isn’t here. He’s...” She waves a hand. “Dealing with some stubborn peppers, whatever that means.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just try his phone.”

She nods but doesn’t walk away. Instead, she keeps watching me, her expression expectant.

“What?”

“Are you here to say yes?”

My brows knit. “I think Logan already proposed to you.”

She waves me off. “To being his best man.”

Oh. Heat pricks at the back of my neck. He wants me to be his best man?

Primrose doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation and barrels on. “I mean, I know the wedding is just in a few days, but it won’t be a big deal. All you’d have to do is show up on the day and, you know, have fun.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

“We’re having it here,” she continues when I’m silent. “And I’m not even wearing white. He’s probably going to be in his boots—god knows I can’t get him to wear anything else—and?—”

She cuts herself off as realization dawns. “Oh no. He didn’t ask yet, did he?”

“Uh . . . no. Not really.”

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