Best Fake Fiance (Loveless Brothers 2)

Then she stops short, standing in the middle of the entryway, and stares around in childish, slack-jawed wonder.

“Move it, kiddo,” I tell her. “You’re in the walkway.”

Rusty wanders in, still agog, and Charlie and I follow, her hand in mine. There’s cake everywhere: inside the massive glass-fronted bakery case, a cupcake display behind the counter. There are cakes under glass domes on the counter itself, not to mention a few beautifully decorated five-tier cakes in the front window.

I don’t think those are real.

Rusty’s eyes are the size of saucers, and she stands in the middle of the store, hands clasped together, looking for all the world like a sweet, charming second grader.

Which she is, but she’s also a lot of other things.

“So, cake,” Charlie says.

“Cake,” I agree, sneaking another glance at her.

I can’t stop staring, because I never see her this way. Charlie’s always in regular clothes, jeans and t-shirts, sometimes coveralls, occasionally shorts. I can’t remember the last time I saw her bare shoulder, the notch of her collarbones, the sharp curve of shoulder blades.

I feel like I’m watching a striptease made just for me.

It’s not the dress, which is perfectly modest. It’s the way her body moves under it that has me transfixed. It’s the suggestion that she might not be wearing a bra. It’s how I see a flash of thigh when she sits down and the material shifts.

“I’ve never exactly been wedding cake tasting before,” Charlie says, still looking around. “Do we just start pointing at things, or—”

“You must be Charlotte and Daniel!” a voice says, followed quickly by an apron-wearing woman who bustles out from the back. “Welcome to Susie Q’s Cakes! I heard all about you from Violet, she’s just so excited that the two of you are finally making it official. Here, go on, sit down.”

Suzie ushers us to the café portion of the bakery, where a table is already set up with three place settings, complete with delicate teacups on saucers, plates with flowers, and forks with curlicues. Rusty plops right down, but Charlie eyes the whole setup a little warily.

“And you must be Rusty,” Susie said. “I’ve heard all about you. This will be your first cake tasting, then?”

She’s still addressing Rusty. It’s quickly becoming clear who the star of the show is going to be today, and it’s not either of the people getting fake-married.

“Yes,” Rusty confirms, as seriously as she possibly can.

“Excellent,” Susie says. “I’ll be right out with your samples and tea.”

“There’s tea?” Charlie murmurs as Susie walks back into the kitchen, the ruffles on her apron fluttering.

“Is this Violet’s doing?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Rusty leans over the table, examining the delicate teacup and saucer, then finally picking it up.

“There’s a flower on the bottom,” she tells us.

I settle back in my chair, even though it’s wildly uncomfortable, and stretch one arm over to Charlie, my hand on the back of her neck. She’s tense, so I rub the knots lightly, my fingers edging under the crossed straps on her back.

I don’t think a single dirty thought. It would be inappropriate.

Okay, maybe one.

Possibly two. But they’re quick.

“I thought we’d be eating cake bites out of tiny paper cups while standing at a counter,” she says, crossing one leg over the other. There’s a flash of thigh. I keep rubbing her neck, and she leans into my hand, ever so slightly, and brush away a third dirty thought.

“Not dining off of fine china?” I ask. “Just hold your pinky out when you drink the tea, that way it’s proper.”

“Says you, noted etiquette expert,” she teases.

Rusty’s already pretending to drink tea, the cup held carefully in her fingers, both pinkies out.

“Like that,” I say, nodding at Rusty. “See, she knows how to do it.”

“Don’t worry, I can teach you,” she assures Charlie.

“Thanks,” Charlie says.

Just then, Susie bustles back out, a tray held in front of her.

“Here we are!” she says and puts it down on the table in front of us.

It’s filled with small squares of cake and one ornate, flowery, delicate teapot.

“Ooh,” says Rusty, leaning over, her mouth forming an O, and Susie laughs.

“First things first,” she says, and picks up the tea pot. “Our own special cake tasting blend, black tea with a hint of bergamot and ginger. Helps cleanse the palate.”

Susie pours us each tea. Charlie is sitting ramrod straight in her chair. I wonder if I should have dressed more nicely than shorts and a t-shirt, but it’s eighty-five degrees outside.

“And now, of course, the cake,” she says, beaming. “We’ve got five different flavors for you to taste today, and of course, we can combine any of them however you like. First is one of our most popular, the bridal white.”

The cake is in small, bite-sized pieces about an inch square, each with a frosting swirl on top. I spear it with the fork and pop it into my mouth, careful to avoid getting frosting in my beard.