One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(18)

But as Chloe left, a group of five customers stepped onto Lila’s front porch. “Looks like you’ve got lunch customers after all.”

Lila turned and tucked her chair back under the table. “I wonder if one of them might want a red velvet cupcake.” She winked at me, then surprised me by giving me a big hug.

I hugged her back, and a cinnamon and apple spice scent surrounded me. “Thanks, Lila. It was nice meeting you.” I fished a business card out of my purse and handed it to her.

“Great to meet you too. Let’s get together this weekend. We’ll talk about business, then dish gossip about everything else.” She smiled at me, then turned and greeted her new customers.

I stood in the shade of her front porch still amazed that as an emergency called away my awkward first attempt at a friend, another better match had fallen into place.

My phone vibrated. Two texts alerts had come in, one from Cade and the other from Chloe.

Cade sent the first text at 10:15 a.m., which I must’ve missed while Chloe and I were busy meeting with the restaurateurs.

His was simple, classic Cade:



What are you doing?



Chloe’s told me the fire was out at the shop, no need to rush.

I wound my way back along Lila’s front garden path, texting a reply to Cade.



I was hawking cupcakes.



A bubble appeared a second later.



And now?



I smiled.



I’ve just made a new friend.





The next day at work was insanely busy and flew by. Chloe and Daniel baked and bantered as if nothing had happened the morning prior—which told me nothing really had. After closing up the bakery, I enjoyed a quiet Friday night dinner at my place with Cade, grateful for the calm.

“Gonna tell me about this new friend?” He arched a brow.

I arched a brow back. “Gonna tell me anything about your first therapy session?”

He folded his black linen napkin and placed it beside his empty plate. “Not much to tell. Abigail thinks I need to work on a few things. I’m going to work on them.”

Unimpressed with his vague answer, but fairly certain I hadn’t given him more about my therapy session, I shrugged. “Not much to tell about my new friend. She owns a restaurant that Chloe and I went to for lunch yesterday. We’re going to get together this weekend to swap business notes.”

“Replacing me so soon as a business advisor?”

I scoffed. “Hardly. You and she are like apples and oranges. You just graduated from school, and she’s more like old school.”

“Sounds stimulating.”

I lowered my hand under the table, sliding it over the rough denim on his leg, resting my fingers along the inside of his thigh. “I find you stimulating.”

He sucked in a breath, snapping his gaze toward me. Those blue eyes instantly darkened, dilating. His nostrils flared, and his breathing grew shallow while he searched my eyes—probably for an explanation as to why we’d agreed to take it slow, yet I’d suddenly shifted into third gear.

I smirked, biting my lip, having no logical explanation. “Sorry. Just wanted to…touch.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. “You’re playing with fire, Maestro. I’m barely holding it together.”

Although a part of me wanted to screw carefulness and throw stifling caution to the wind, I removed my hand from his thigh and took a deep breath. There’d be plenty of time to be wild without rushing things.

Cade smirked, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Don’t think I don’t want to do exactly what I know you’re thinking, Hannah. I do. I very much f*cking do. And soon. After we know we’re good to go, when you know you have no fear or doubts, then you’ll be ready. And I promise you, we’ll make up for lost time.”

I smiled, glancing down as he gripped his fork until his knuckles blanched. “And what are you thinking about, Cade? You’re about to bend the flatware with your bare hand.”

He dropped the fork. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking. Trust me.”

I shoved at his shoulder with an open palm. “Come on. Since when do we hold back on sexual teasing? What’s the matter? Did you go hotter than chocolate sauce, caramel, and honey? What are we talking now, cherries flambé?”

His gaze darkened, eyes glittering. “Damn. There’s a thought. Add it to the list.”

I stood as he did, putting my hands on my hips. “Well? You gonna share, or what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze scanning down my body to my bare feet, which peeked out from beneath the frayed hem of my jeans, then back up to meet mine. “I hope you like more than food in your sex play, sweet Hannah.”

Stunned, I stood there staring as he grabbed both of our dessert plates and forks and left the room. He murmured something as he rounded the corner. One of the words sounded like “leather” and another, “blindfold.” My body shuddered at the thought of what those words meant. I inhaled slowly, deciding not to ask for clarification. Not yet, anyway.

Instead of hooking a left into my bedroom, he turned right, heading toward the living room. “Bring our coffees, will you?” he called out.

Curious, I picked up the steaming mugs and followed him up front.