You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(32)
“A special treat for the lady,” the server says, and with a dramatic flourish, he lifts the silver lid to reveal a plate filled with one, two, three, four, five, six…
Cupcakes.
“Oh.” I cover my mouth with a shaky hand, barely realizing our server has already walked away. I’m too enraptured by my surprise. They’re all so pretty, each cupcake frosted in a different color, a pastel blue, pink, yellow, green, purple and white. My gaze flies to Jordan to find him watching me, amusement and—yes, affection—in his gaze. “The cupcakes. From that bakery. How did you…”
“I have my ways.” He points at the plate. “I hope you like them.”
“I love them.” This is literally so sweet. Jordan didn’t just notice me ogling the cupcake display at a bakery, he actually sent someone to go buy me a half-dozen cupcakes and had them brought to me. He always used to indulge my sweet tooth. “Thank you.”
“You going to eat one?”
“Yes! Oh my God, will you think I’m a pig? I just ate all that food.” I rest my hand over my stomach, contemplating which one I should eat first. I like chocolate, but truly, I’m a boring old vanilla girl—literally.
“You’re not a pig, Mandy,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “Pick one.”
“Will you split it with me?” I grab the one with blue frosting and hold it up, getting a little bit of frosting on my hand. I bring it to close to my face, licking the frosting off my finger quickly, and my body goes hot when I realize Jordan is watching my every move. “I…don’t think I can eat it all by myself.”
“Yeah. Here.” He holds his hand out and I set the cupcake in his giant palm, my fingers somehow brushing against his as I pull my hand away, sparks flying like they do every time we touch. He sets the cupcake on his never-used bread plate and peels off the wrapper carefully, getting some frosting on his fingers too. He licks it off just as quick as I did, and I feel a stirring low in my belly when I see his tongue.
God, this is like foreplay. I’m going to be a mess by the time we leave the restaurant.
Jordan grabs the clean butter knife and cuts the cupcake in half, then offers me the plate. “Which half do you want?”
It’s hard to tell which side is bigger, he’s cut the cupcake so precisely. The thick frosting is just as tall as the actual cake, and I seriously can’t wait to taste it. I point at the half closest to me and he grabs the other one. Before I can say or do anything, he plops the entire cupcake half into his mouth, leaving a dab of pale blue frosting in the corner of his lips.
“Jordan!” I start laughing as he chews and chews. “What a waste. You ate it all in one bite.”
He chews a little more before he finally swallows. “And it was delicious.” He points at the remaining cupcake waiting for me on the plate. “Try yours.”
“I will, but first.” I point at his mouth. “You have frosting on your face.”
“I do?” He frowns. “Where?” He wipes at his cheek and I shake my head. He dabs at the wrong corner of his mouth and I shake my head again. “Tell me where.”
Leaning over the table, I touch my thumb to the left corner of his plush mouth, wiping the frosting off his lips with one swipe. My thumb tingles from where I touched him, my entire body lit up from within. “Got it.”
“Thanks.” His voice falters when I stick my thumb in my mouth and suck the frosting clean off.
“You’re welcome,” I say with gleeful enthusiasm right before I take a big bite of my cupcake. No way could I eat that all in one bite and besides, I want to savor it.
And oh God, this cupcake is so freaking good. It’s, like, the best vanilla I’ve ever tasted in my life—and I’ve tasted a lot of vanilla, so I should know—and the frosting is perfect. Buttercream, sweet but not enough to give me a cavity.
“This is so delicious, it’s practically orgasmic,” I tell him just as I take another bite.
“Jesus, Mandy,” he mutters, pushing his hair away from his forehead. He looks pained. Like I’m making him miserable and I guess I probably am.
It’s so great.
Once I’m finished—and I lick my thumb again just to drive him crazy—I smile and point at the remaining cupcakes. “What are we going to do with the rest of them?”
“Do you want another?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m stuffed.” I mean, I could probably attempt one more cupcake, but I don’t want to make myself sick.
“I’ll get a box for them then.” He flags down our server as he passes by and asks, “To-go box?”
“Right away, sir,” the server answers before he takes off.
“I already paid the bill,” Jordan tells me. “Are you ready to go?”
I almost want to tell him no. That I don’t want to end the most perfect date I’ve ever been on in my life. There’s no real awkwardness when I talk to Jordan. We have this shared history, an easy camaraderie from being friends first, and our friendship started long, long ago. We played catch up while waiting for our dinner to arrive earlier, mostly gossip about people we went to high school with, but we never took it too deep. Or too personal.
We’re probably too scared to try that just yet.
This is a good start, though. This is what I want. Ease into it, find our footing, find our old selves, the ones who made up Tuttle and Amanda, the teen years.