Cooper never got that chance.
Palmer didn’t either.
But from the look on Ford’s face, he’s not making the connection.
“Anyway,” I say, “I think you just need to find the passion for the company again.”
“I think you’re right.” He pats his chest. “Working on that passion. No better way to start than fly-fishing. Right?”
“Totally.” I chuckle. “Anyway, shall we get down to business? The real reason I sneaked onto the island with a bakery box?”
“Yes, of course. Please tell me: What’s the cake scheduled to be right now?”
“Currently, it’s lavender. I got a call from Palmer this morning.” When she called me, I did everything I could not to laugh. I knew Cooper was going to lose it if he found out. And it’s something I planned on telling him later—even though he said to keep the cake butterscotch, this is obviously more fun for me. The Chance siblings are a special kind of crazy.
But a crazy I enjoy.
“Does anyone know you’re here?”
I shake my head. “I’ve come completely undetected. Even threw on a baseball cap on the ferry, just to make sure.”
“Smart move,” Ford says, looking all too serious now. I honestly can’t take it. I tamp down the smirk that wants to make itself known from how ridiculous this entire situation is. “Okay, let’s see what you have.”
Opening the bakery box, I pick up the plate the inn provided for us and place five pieces of cake on it. A lavender, a butterscotch, a coffee, a chocolate, and, of course, a plain vanilla.
“Now, on the lavender and the vanilla, I had to use a plain buttercream, but those could always change. The chocolate has a raspberry buttercream, and then the coffee and butterscotch both have a fudge frosting.”
I hand him the plate, and he picks up his fork, using it to poke each piece of cake.
Well, hello, is he inspecting the crumb? Am I under culinary examination over here?
“I’m so done with this battling over the cake,” he says, still prodding away. “If I didn’t know my parents wanted a cake from you, I would just buy a pie and call it a day.”
“The pie, my nemesis.”
He laughs. “Not a fan of the pie?” He takes a bite of the chocolate cake, and his face remains neutral as he chews.
“Well, clearly it’s not a cake, so of course I’m not a fan. Pies try to take the glory on Thanksgiving, but let me ask you this, Ford—have you ever had a Thanksgiving cake?”
“Can’t say that I have.” He bites into the vanilla after taking a sip of water.
“Well, you are missing out. People like to boast about a pecan pie; well, try a pecan turtle cake on Thanksgiving. Life changing.”
“I’m going to have to remember that this year.” He bites into the butterscotch, and, once again, he remains neutral. I can just picture him doing the same thing when looking over merchandise, showing not an ounce of excitement while he takes everything in.
“You’ll thank me.” I wink as he finishes up the cakes and then sets down his fork. With a napkin, he dabs at his mouth.
Takes a sip of water.
Stares at the plate.
Then . . . “Let’s go with the chocolate raspberry. That will be the clear crowd favorite. The lavender’s a nice flavor, but I’m not sure everyone would appreciate it. The butterscotch . . . well, it’s butterscotch. I think the general preference among all invitees would be the chocolate raspberry.”
“It’s a very popular flavor at the bakery.”
“I can see why.” He glances at his watch. “Well, I should be going. I have some fishing to attend to. Thank you again, Nora, for making the trek out here.”
“Of course.” We both stand from the table. “Anything for the Chance family.”
We say some quick goodbyes, and I head toward the harbor, where I’ll wait for the ferry to take me back.
Three siblings, three different cakes.
I’m pretty sure I know what I’m going to do now.
Isn’t it obvious?
Butterscotch for Coop.
Lavender for Palmer.
And, of course, chocolate raspberry for Ford.
But naturally, I’ll let them keep fighting over the flavor until the very last day because the ever-changing cake is quite entertaining.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
COOPER
“You look good,” I say, taking Nora’s hand and pulling her into my embrace. “Who knew you owned a dress?”
She pokes my side, making me laugh. “You act as if I’m not a lady.”
“Oh, I know you’re a lady—remember the logo I drew of you?”
“Yes, everyone knows about the logo and the stacked bosom you gave me.”
A date with Nora. An actual date.
Hate to admit it, but I fretted over what to wear tonight, what to say, and how many squirts of cologne I should spray. Three, if you were wondering.
To sum it up, slightly nervous, really fucking excited.
“Mr. Chance, your table is ready,” the hostess says. I take Nora’s hand in mine, and we follow her through the quaint restaurant to our intimately placed table, where we take our seats under a very large picture of a half-naked lady with a large rack.
When the hostess leaves, I open my menu and nod toward the picture. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
Nora rolls her eyes. “My boobs are not that big.”
I glance at her cleavage. “Once again, I beg to differ.”
“It’s the bra.”
“Babe, a bra isn’t that magical.”
Her brow rises in question. “Are we at the ‘babe’ phase?”
“Why did I know you were going to call me out on that? Always a ballbuster.”
“Someone has to keep you grounded.” She opens her menu and glances over the options. “Oh, sausage. I love me some sausage, and since I won’t be getting any tonight, maybe I’ll indulge at dinner.”
“Are you making it your mission to slowly drive me insane?”
“Yes, how am I doing?”
I smile. “Magnificently.”
“Good.” Her phone lights up on the table, and naturally, my eyes float to it—Ford’s name crosses the screen.
My back straightens and my guard goes up as I set down my menu.
“Why is my brother texting you?”
“Huh?” she asks and then looks at her phone. “Oh, uh, he was, uh . . .”
“Don’t lie to me, Nora.”
Sighing, she lays her menu flat on the table and folds her arms over her chest. “If you must know, we’re having a raging affair up at the inn. He calls me ‘darling,’ I call him ‘daddy,’ and we spend the afternoon pleasuring one another.”
I lean forward. “He changed the goddamn cake, didn’t he?”
“I find it odd that you’re more upset about a cake flavor than my possible affair with your brother. Didn’t you hear me? I call him ‘daddy.’”
“You and Ford having an affair is one of the most absurd things I’ve ever heard.”
“Why is that absurd?” she asks. “I might be a little loose on the mouth filter, but I can be dignified with him.”