Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Burgers,” Hayes says without looking up from his phone, his voice calm and confident. He’s sprawled in the recliner like a man who has all the time in the world and not a single worry on his mind while I’m over here spiraling. He’s still wearing his navy slacks and a white button-up, open at the throat, looking all kinds of delicious and distracting. It’s taken me a while to get used to dating professional working men and resisting them in their business attire is like trying to eat just one potato chip—impossible.
“Burgers aren’t romantic,” I argue, tapping the end of my pen against the notebook.
“Burgers are delicious. That’s all that counts.” Jacob calls out from the kitchen, his voice muffled by the clatter of the fridge closing.
I roll my eyes. “You brought me flowers last week, Jacob. You’re not exactly the poster boy for anti-romance.”
He reappears with a can of soda in hand. His shirt is completely unbuttoned, revealing his swirling tattoos and the impressive musculature of his chest that he’s managed to maintain despite not attending practice daily anymore. Watching him tackle press ups, pull ups and sit-ups like a Navy SEAL from the comfort of the sofa with snacks is my new favorite pastime, especially when he does it shirtless. I drool a little at the memory.
“They were wildflowers. There’s a big difference.”
Hayes smirks. “She’s got a point. Those flowers were borderline sappy. Almost Shawn-level.”
Jacob glares at him. “Says the guy who bought her lavender candles like we’re living in a fucking spa.”
Hayes shrugs. “Lavender’s relaxing. It’s called being thoughtful, Jacob.”
“Okay, stop,” I cut in before their bickering descends into violence. “Burgers are great, but we need more. Something fun, something memorable.”
“Cake,” Hayes says, finally looking up from his phone. “Red velvet cake. It’s Shawn’s favorite.”
“That’s a good start,” I say, jotting it down. How did I not think of cake first? Maybe it’s because I bake so much that it’s the last thing I want to do when I’m not making an episode for my hockey-baking channel.
Jacob frowns. “We’re not just showing up with a cake and calling it a day, right? Even I can see that wouldn’t really hit the right note.”
“Of course not,” I reply. “We’re showing up with a cake decorated with our faces in frosting hearts.”
Jacob stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Our faces?”
“It’ll be adorable,” I insist, sketching a rough design in my notebook. “Each of you in your own little frosting heart. Trust me, he’ll love it.”
“It’ll be horrifying,” Jacob mutters, shaking his head.
“It’s genius,” Hayes counters, grinning. “Shawn’s going to eat that shit up. Can you give him finger guns?”
“Maybe,” I snicker.
Jacob sighs, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But if I see my face on that cake, I’m not eating it.”
“Noted.” I grin as I flip to a fresh page in my notebook. “Okay, we’ve got burgers, cake, and a surprise visit. Anything else?”
“Your pussy wrapped in something pretty.” Jacob eyes me suggestively as he flops onto the sofa.
“Something pretty,” I repeat, writing lingerie on the notepad and encircling it with a heart.
“We should bring something personal,” Hayes suggests, leaning forward. “Like a little memento or inside joke. Or a surprise. I dunno. Maybe something to remind him of home.”
“Like what?” Jacob asks, crossing his arms.
Hayes shrugs. “You’ll think of something.”
“I’ll bake the cake tonight,” I say, my excitement building. “And we’ll hit the road first thing tomorrow. It’s a three-hour drive, so we’ll need to leave early.”
“Three hours there, three hours back,” Jacob grumbles, flopping onto the couch beside me. “Hayes can handle gas money.”
Hayes laughs, standing and stretching all the man perfection that sends my mind spiraling into the gutter. “No problem. I’ll handle the burgers and gas. Riley’s got the cake and her pretty pussy. And Jacob?” He raises an eyebrow. “You handle your attitude.”
Jacob flips him off, but he’s grinning. “I’ll handle the surprise.”
***
The kitchen smells like butter and sugar, a warm, inviting scent that instantly calms me. The stand mixer hums softly as I fold the red food coloring into the batter, watching it swirl into a deep, velvety crimson.
“Why is the cake red?” Jacob asks, leaning against the counter with a skeptical look.
“It’s red velvet,” I explain, rolling my eyes. “It’s supposed to be red, and red is romantic.”
“Looks like blood,” he mutters, sticking a finger into the batter.
“Hey!” I swat his hand away. “That’s unsanitary.”
“Relax, Riles. I’m clean.”
“Debatable,” Hayes says as he wanders into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the cake. “Smells good. You need help?”
“Nope. I’ve got this.” I take the bowl from the stand and pour the batter into pans. “But you can help me with the frosting later.”
“I can?” Hayes asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, because Jacob’s banned from the kitchen.” I glare at him. “He already tried to eat half the batter.”