One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(14)

“Absolutely.” He looked up at me. “You’re important to me. This—us—it’s important to me.”

“The non-dating.” I smirked.

He chuckled. “Yes. The non-dating. How do you feel about that?”

“You sound like the therapist now.”

He tilted his head. “Is that what it’s like? Asking about your feelings every other sentence?”

I scrunched my face in thought. “No. It’s more like you’re standing in front of a mirror, but it’s fogged, and you can’t wipe away the mist. She clears it up. Or rather, she tells you how to clear it up yourself, something about cognitive therapy.”

“I remember seeing that term on her website.”

Shifting to sit up, I nodded, then crossed my legs. “It’s a way to reprogram how we feel about things that upset us. She called them triggers. The process is supposed to help us to change our responses into something productive and positive.”

He feigned a yawn. “Sounds boring.”

I tossed a pillow at him. “Better make it interesting. You’re paying her a hundred and fifty dollars for that hour of therapy. Every minute counts.”

His eyes widened, and he blinked at me. “Holy shit, Hannah. Can you afford that?”

I shook my head. “Nope. But I’m not paying for it. You are. You’re the one who suggested it and can afford it, Mr. Moneybags. I figured you’d see it as a sound investment in our future.” I stared at him, curious about what he’d say to my boldness.

“First of all, I’m not ‘Mr. Moneybags.’ Well off? Yeah. But I’m no trust fund kid. Dad and Mom gave us each enough to go to college and for down payments on a car and house. Everything else I’ve earned. The bar is doing well, but don’t get any gold-digging ideas into your head.”

“I had no illusions you were a millionaire. But I got the sense you were better able to pay our therapy bills than me. Second of all?”

“Second of all, both of us getting to a good mental place is a sound investment in our future.” He leveled a serious look at me, then laughed, shaking his head. “You’d have made one hell of a negotiator, Maestro.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief before smiling. Cade had determination and patience.





The next morning as I worked in the kitchen with Chloe and Daniel, I thought about what Abigail had said during my therapy session about putting myself out there to make friends. Other than Cade, his sisters, and Ben and Mase, my only other regular exposure to acquaintances was my two employees. I worried for a split second. How do I even begin?

When Daniel loaded a dozen cupcakes onto the transfer board and walked up front to slide them into the display case, I glanced at Chloe, who was icing a row of red velvets with cream cheese frosting. An idea came to mind as I finished setting the last of the carrot cake batch onto a cooling rack.

“Chloe, would you like to get out of the shop with me for a bit today?”

She looked up from her task and puffed a wayward lock of hair from her face. “Sure. What did you have in mind?” She quickly frosted the last two cupcakes, then put her spatula down and stepped away from the food, refastening her wavy red hair into a ponytail.

Unsure about how to start the whole acquaintance-to-friend process, I stuck with work reasons—the rest would have to work itself out. “Well, we could do two things. We can box up a dozen cupcakes to solicit local restaurants, then do lunch.”

She grinned wide. “I’d love to. It’ll be a chance to try my hand at something other than cake making. Maybe Daniel’s not the only one with mad business skills.”

Daniel walked back in, his transfer board empty. “Were you just talking about me?”

Chloe stuck her tongue out at him. “No, Mr. Ego. You were only mentioned as a sidenote. Hannah invited me to go out marketing with her and then to lunch.”

I smiled, enjoying their teasing banter as I grabbed a cupcake box. I began collecting an assortment of cupcakes to give away: carrot cake, red velvet, and chocolate bacon.

Daniel leaned back against the far stainless steel counter, the tips of his black Mohawk quivering as he dropped his head, staring us down from under drawn brows. “You said I had mad business skills. That is not a sidenote. It’s a fact. And good for you, Chloe. Hannah had me help with marketing cupcakes to Roy’s. Only fair you get a stab at the business end of things.” He tilted his head, lips twisting into a smirk. “Just don’t break one of your manicured nails or be too disappointed if no customers bite.”

“Pfft.” Chloe crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Women are better at marketing than men.”

Daniel huffed out a dry laugh. “Says who?”

“These two babies right here.” She cupped a hand under each breast and lifted her generous bosom.

Daniel’s eyes nearly bugged out as he stared at her chest. His gaze slowly rose to her eyes. “Watch it, Chloe. We keep things nice and businesslike here for a reason—no drama. You keep flaunting your assets to me, and we might be talking a whole new ballgame.”

“Whoa.” Inside of ninety seconds, the jovial sparring had gotten way too serious. I raised my hands, stepping between them. “Okay, okay. Enough, you two.” I pointed at Daniel. “You, no taunting Chloe.” Then I glanced at Chloe. “And you, no teasing Daniel with your assets.”