Page 73 of The Wedding Crush

Mike moves to turn to him, and howls from getting poked.

“Instant karma,” Jameson says. “Every one of y’all are whipped and thinking about your women.” He throws up his hand, fingers splayed wide. “If I’m lying, drop a finger right now, then show me your phone…”

Dante, Mike, and Everett are bent over laughing, guilty as all get-out.

As timely as ever, my phone pings.

I’d love to say I don’t know why, but in this moment, every pair of eyes in the room shifts to me.

The corners of my mouth twitch tellingly.

Without a doubt, I know it’s Avery responding to my text. Even if it’s not, now I’m thinking about her again.

Jameson smirks.

“Yup, that’s what I thought,” he says.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Avery

“If you thinkthat was delicious, wait until you taste our fall flavors.” Ourpâtissierbeams as she strides toward the table where Morgan, Dante, and I are still scraping the buttercream remnants off the last platter of cake bites.

“Why is this so good?”

She laughs.

Immediately, the three of us go to work, loading our plates with spice, carrot, and salted caramel cakes like we didn’t scarf down every morsel of the white chocolate and red velvet slices she set down, not even five minutes ago.

I found this little French bakery, by chance, while going back and forth from the city to Napa to visit Morgan.

Blame my sweet tooth.

Thank God for Google Places. By the number of highly rated reviews, apparently, everyone and their mamas knew about this place: Gâteaux Sucrés.

Sweet cakes.

It’s tucked on the outskirts of Sonoma, so it’s not too far off the beaten path. Two birds, one stone, I knocked out my craving, and booked an over-the-top cake for Nichelle’s Hollywood glamour wedding.

When I told her about Morgan and Dante, rushing to be the first wedding on his late grandfather’s vineyard, the pâtissier was a sentimental mess, and fit us in.

Downside: the cake won’t be an elaborate confectionary tower of flour and buttercream.

Upside: it’ll be delicious with an understated elegance.

Win-win.

Morgan stuffs the salted caramel bite into her mouth, and immediately moans her approval. “What did you put in this? It’s ridiculously good.”

“It’s just wrong.” Dante shakes his head, his cheek bulging as he slouches back in the chair. “Sorry, babe, I can’t marry you. I’m marrying this salted caramel piece of heaven.”

An alarm chirps on his phone.

“Shoot, I’ve got to get back to the vineyard.” He stands, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “I’ve got that meeting with the inspector for the cabins, but my vote is for the caramel.”

She winks like,I’ve got this, baby.

They lean in for a chaste kiss before he hugs me and tells our baking magician that she should be ashamed for all the future pounds he’s going to put on since her bakery will be his new addiction.

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