“What’d you two talk about?”
“She told me she baked the cake. That’s all.”
He wished that was all. Wished he didn’t have the memory of her feather-light touch on the corner of his mouth. Or the image of her licking frosting off her finger burned into his mind. It made him want to dip his finger in some batter and let her suck it off as those mesmerizing green eyes of hers widened with desire.
He bit back a groan and swiped to the next image on his laptop screen.
“Come on, it had to be more than that,” Roxanna pressed. “She and the cute blond guy broke up right after you left. Made a big scene, too, so I’m thinking you should go for it. Could be a match made in heaven.”
His pulse leapt at her words, but then settled right back to steady. “And screw the guy who proposed out on the front lawn?”
“Oh. Crap. I forgot about him.”
“Some psychic you are.”
“Hey. Anyway, forget the girl, then. I am psychic enough to know you already ate the cake you took last night.”
He’d finished both pieces for lunch. Even a day later and dried out on the edges it was still groan-worthy. “Any one of my brothers or sisters could’ve told you that without being psychic.”
“Well, they didn’t,” Roxanna retorted. “So if you want me to stop by tomorrow with the slab I wrapped up on my way out, you better be nice to me.”
“I thought you didn’t like the cake?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I said something about it felt off. But clearly that doesn’t bother you, so, you gonna be nice or not?”
“Times like this, I’m glad you’re not normal.”
“Aw, you do say the nicest things.” Laughter echoed in her voice. “I’ll see you around ten.”
After they hung up, he managed to focus his concentration long enough to cross two items off his To-Do list before his phone rang again.
“’Lo, Mom,” he answered with a smile.
“Hi, hon. How was the wedding yesterday?”
“It was great. I was just about to work on the album. How was your dinner?”
“Good. Your father lined up some firm backing for the senate bid.”
The news wasn’t unexpected, but it produced a flicker of unease. Campaign years could get tough on the family. “He’s going to announce at the party Saturday, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
Asher dusted his forefinger along the row of keys at the top of his laptop. “You sure you’re up for this, Mom?”
“I will never stand in the way of your father’s ambitions, Asher. He can do a lot of good for our country.”
“That’s not what I asked. I know it was hard on you last ti
me with all the negative campaign ads. A Senate run will garner national attention. The spotlight is going to be twice as bright and they’re going to spin every little thing they can to make Dad look bad, whether it’s true or not.”
“I know all this, Asher. I dealt with it last time. I’ll deal with it again,” his mom assured him. “Your father and I made this decision together.”
Like they did everything. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.”
“And I love you for that. Thanks. But I actually called to see if you heard from Merit today, and to ask if you plan on bringing a date on Saturday?”
Both questions made him cringe. “I haven’t talked to Merit since last night. You know, he is twenty-five, Mom. He’s a big boy.”