“You like the lemon and cream cheese?”
He nodded. “It’s so damn good.”
I smiled and looked at Lynda.
“You could always do cupcakes along with the cake,” she said.
“Or the groom’s cake could be the lemon with the cream cheese,” I replied, opening my notebook and making a few notes.
Landon froze. “Wait…are you saying I get my own cake?”
Lynda and I turned and looked at him as I said, “If you want your own cake.”
Those blue eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. “You mean, like a cake I can have decorated any way I want?”
I laughed. Lynda held up her hand, clearly having dealt with many a bride who’d allowed their husbands to have a groom’s cake, but hadn’t allowed them to pick the type of cake or design.
Before she could shatter Landon’s dreams, I quickly replied, “Yes. The groom’s cake is all yours. The flavor, the style, colors. It’s all yours.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “It’s got to be a car. Maybe a fifty-five Ford truck. Or we could even do a race car.”
I glanced around to see if anyone else heard how hard and fast my heart was beating. Landon wasn’t acting. He was dead serious.
“Do you like cars?” Lynda asked.
Landon laughed. “I used to race in NASCAR, and I own a restoration shop here in town.”
She lifted her brows. “Oh, well, isn’t that nice!” Then she turned back to me. “Now, Emmerson, tell me who your wedding planner is, and I’ll be sure to mark her name down.”
“Um, that would be me. I’m planning the wedding.”
Lynda raised a single brow, looking displeased. Okay, why in the world would she have a problem with a bride handling her own wedding planning?
“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked.
“No! No, of course not!”
I plastered on a fake smile. “Good. You see, I plan weddings for a living, and honestly, I cannot imagine anyone else doing any of the planning for me.”
That made Lynda sit up and take notice. “Do you now? What’s the name of your business?”
“Serendipity Wedding Planning,” Landon said with a proud smile on his handsome face. I reached over and wiped off the icing that was on the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, I sucked the icing from my finger and watched Landon’s eyes hood with lust.
I moved in my seat in a sad attempt to ignore the way my lower stomach now pulsed with a desire that only the man sitting next to me could satiate.
Lynda smiled. “Oh, I’ve heard such wonderful things about Serendipity Wedding Planning. What an honor to have you here as a bride!” She quickly launched into a speech about deposits and time frames as Landon leaned over and whispered in my ear, “We need to leave. Now.”
Then he stood up. Fast.
I stood, too, as did Lynda.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “You look like you’re about to…”
My voice trailed off as I realized I’d seen that look on Landon’s face before. We were only around twelve and ten, camping with Hailey and Noah out in the backyard of our folks’ place. We had each packed our own dinner that night, and it was obvious that Landon and Noah had grabbed whatever they thought sounded good. Landon had eaten a bag of chocolates, half a stick of smoked cheddar cheese, at least five Slim Jims, and some olives that Hailey had brought, not to mention an entire bag of M&Ms. Thirty minutes after eating all of that, he got sick and threw up in the tent.
After that, Hailey insisted that Landon had to pitch his own tent while the rest of us shared. I couldn’t really blame her; after all, Landon had thrown up all over his sister. To this day, he still can’t eat olives, claiming that one had gotten stuck in his nose when he was throwing up so hard.
“Oh no.” I quickly grabbed my phone, but I didn’t stop recording as I placed it on the table and then yanked the stand down and shoved it into my bag. Landon moaned, and I knew we had precious seconds left before he threw up.
“Now, did you want to think about doing a donut wall?” Lynda asked in a panicked voice. She either thought she was about to lose our business, or she had somehow not heard Landon moan.
He groaned even louder.
“Lynda, I’ve got to get him out of here before he gets sick.”
Laughing, she waved her hand to dismiss me. “I’ve seen plenty of men eat a lot more than Landon did. He’ll be fine. Did you want to think about booking, maybe putting a deposit down?”
Landon started to sway.
“Landon, are you okay?” I asked, reaching out to steady him.
He shook his head. “I’m seriously going to throw up.”
Lynda finally realized what was happening. We had a code red on our hands.
“We’ve got a puker!” I said, quickly looking around for anything that Landon could throw up in.
“No! God, no! Not in the shop!” Lynda cried out.
“Landon covered his mouth while I searched frantically. There was a canvas bag hanging over the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. I grabbed it, opened it, and nearly pushed Landon over as I thrust it up near his mouth. Not a second later, he was throwing up.
“Oh…oh dear…oh no.” I turned to see Lynda standing there, her mouth over her hand.
“No, no, Lynda. Walk away. Run! Close your eyes and sing Christmas songs!” I shouted. Landon sounded like he was throwing up his right lung.
“I’m going to be sick.” Lynda turned away and rushed through the small eating area toward the back of the bakery.
“I hope she makes it to the bathroom,” I whispered and then turned back to see that Landon was only dry heaving now. “You should have eaten lunch. All that sugar probably put your body into fight-or-flight mode.”
He groaned.
“Done?” I asked.
“I think so,” Landon replied, sitting back down in the chair. “I’m glad no one else was in here, or I’m pretty sure that would have been bad for business.”
I tied the handles together to close the bag and tried not to gag myself. A younger girl came rushing out.
“Lynda is throwing up in the bathroom!” she shouted.
“I know. Landon—I mean, my fiancé—ate too many cupcakes. Do you happen to have a trash bag and a dumpster I can throw this out in?”
The young girl’s eyes went from the bag to Landon to me. She looked like she wanted to gag too. “Yeah, let me get a bag. And the dumpster is around on the side of the building; you can toss it in there.”
After everything was cleaned up, and Lynda and Landon had recovered from their episodes, I told Lynda I would be in touch. Even after all of that, she seemed pretty excited, and I felt kind of bad that I wouldn’t actually be ordering any cakes from her. At least, not for a December wedding.
When we stepped outside, Landon drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “I blame you for that.”
“Me?” I asked as I stopped to look at him. “How on Earth am I to blame for you eating entirely too many cupcakes?”
“You got me all excited. First with the groom’s cake—which, by the way, I want lemon and the cheese cake buttercream frosting. You can do whatever you want for the main cake.”