One Baby Daddy (Dating by Numbers #3)(31)

Talking with his mouth full, he says, “You must have known I’d show up. You say cake and I’m there, man. Sorry I’m not sorry.”

I snatch the plate from him as he takes his last bite and point toward the door. “Say good night to Adalyn and leave.”

“What is going on here?” Adalyn asks, stepping into the living room, looking so goddamn beautiful in a pink dress that the anger roaring through me starts to dissipate.

Racer lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe his mouth, showing off his six pack—how he has one, I have no idea—and says, “Romeo over here let the cat out of the bag before I got here. Not only did he tell me about that delicious cake, but he also let it be known that he has a huge crush on you.”

God, why does he have to sound like a giant turd when he talks?

“You told Racer?” Adalyn asks, looking a little more angry than I expected.

“I did.” I rub the back of my neck, casting my eyes toward Adalyn, giving her all my attention. “He cornered me, and I’m not a good liar. I’m sorry. I know you probably would have wanted to tell him, but I was honest.”

“He was.” Racer jabs me in the ribs, buckling me over as he walks past me. Pulling Adalyn into a hug, he whispers something in her ear and then pulls away. Winking in my direction, he says, “Hurt her and I’ll rupture your nut sac with a hockey puck.” He throws up the peace sign and walks out of Adalyn’s house, leaving us alone.

What was the point of that other than Racer acting like a total dick?

Maybe he wanted to see if I was telling the truth.

Or maybe, he’s a goddamn child and just wanted a piece of cake.

I’m going to guess it’s the latter.

Silence falls in the room, making it extremely awkward. This is not how I wanted our night to start off, with this uncomfortable tension between us.

I break the silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to tell him.”

Adalyn shifts in place, her hands twined together. “It’s okay. He said he was happy for me and that you were a good guy.” Peering up through those impossibly long eyelashes, she adds, “He also told me to tell him if you’re a dick to me at any point in time.”

My eyes find the ceiling as I shake my head. “Of course he did.” I take a few steps toward her until I’m able to grab her by the hand and pull her into my arms. I press a kiss against the top of her head and say, “I hate that he ruined the night for us . . .” She looks at me with a raised eyebrow. How can chicks do that?

“Okay. Okay. And I really hate that he ate my cake.” Adalyn and my mom will get along well, given they both possess mind reading abilities. But it’s cake.

Chuckling, Adalyn squeezes me tight. “He didn’t ruin the night, just made it interesting. And I gave him one of my tester cakes. I made three today just to make sure your cake came out perfect.”

I pull back to look her in the eyes. He didn’t eat my cake? “You made three cakes?” Shyly, she confirms. “What was wrong with the first two?”

“Just testing out certain things. I added a pudding packet to the cake mix, making it extra moist. But I wanted to be sure the cake came out right, so the first was a test, the second was a forgetful moment for me—not spraying the cake tins—and number three came out beautifully. It’s iced and ready to be consumed, untouched by Racer.”

“Hell, that’s fucking adorable.” I give her another hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do given everything you’ve done for me.”

I take her hand in mine and let her lead me to the kitchen. “It’s not a competition, babe.”

Adalyn’s apartment surprises me. I would have guessed her place would have been super colorful, but it’s white. Almost everything is white, from her couch, to her walls, to her furniture. The only colors she has in the entire space are potted plants, throw pillows, and art on the wall. It’s very clean and crisp, with mere splashes of her personality.

When we reach the kitchen, I’m struck by bright green dinnerware in the open shelves hanging over her counters. Not one upper cabinet is present, just shelves after shelves covered in all different shades of green dinnerware. It’s . . . soothing.

“I like your dishes.”

“Thank you.” She takes down two plates and places them next to what looks like a three-layered cake covered in chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. Damn . . . I think I may have fallen in love.

“You made that?” I point at the cake that looks like a professional made it.

Her cheeks stain crimson as she cuts a big piece for me and a medium-sized piece for herself. There is what looks like some kind of cherry filling in the middle that has my mouth watering from the very sight of it. “I had a little help from my friend, Emma, but yeah, I made it for the most part. I hope you like it.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to love it.” I glance around her galley kitchen. “Where should we eat it?”

“Let’s go out back. I have a partition on my deck. It will afford us some much-needed privacy.”

She leads me to the back of her house and onto the deck, which is surrounded by three slatted partitions and white curtains. Setting the cake on the coffee table of her outside furniture set, she releases the white curtains, blocking us from her neighbors completely. Fuck, it’s super romantic with the small lantern on the table offering the only light in the space.