Page 29 of Xander

A laugh escaped me, and I looked guiltily over my shoulder. “Okay, no,” I said, walking farther down the hall. “But I would love a second opinion for the cake flavors.”

He was silent for several moments.

“Xander?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m still here. I can go with you.”

I ended the call, promising to text him the details.

I felt a little flustered while texting. He’d known it was me right away, meaning he must’ve asked someone for my number after meeting me.

That was sweet… and unexpected.

The expensive boutique bakery had thick panels that could have been made from fondant. Xander pulled up in front of the building, executing a perfect parallel park. He was in jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the very expensive watch around his wrist. I’d considered buying Henry one just like it for his birthday, though he’d turned up his nose at the tinted sapphire face. Watching the defined veins of Xander’s forearms accessorize the watch, I was suddenly glad for it. As much as it pained me to admit, Henry couldn’t have pulled off this watch.

“I hope you brought your appetite,” I said, smiling up at him when he exited the car and held the door open for me. “There are at least three different cakes. I’m not completely sure. She said something about a ‘try and see.’”

His eyes went to me, lingering on my face as he pushed the car door shut. Then he looked away. “What’s a try and see?”

“I suspect it means they’ll have us try some cakes and then see if we like it.”

He smiled—and the gesture was startling because he was usually either deep in thought or keeping up a poker face. When he smiled, he didn’t look much like his father.

Shoving that thought away, I said, “After you.”

He held back. “Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty,” I shot back unthinkingly.

His mouth quirked up, and he held the door open. This close, I could smell his cologne—sharp and cedary. “Are you calling me beautiful?”

“N-no,” I said, flushing. That came out sounding much more ridiculous than I meant. “Never mind.” I shoved his shoulder and felt a flicker of surprise at how hard his arm was beneath the light cotton blend.

Xander laughed, shaking his head as I walked through the door.

I breathed in the smell of powdered sugar and warm baking bread. This smell made me nostalgic for my childhood and made me think of close families and big kitchens. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” I said.

A flicker of regret pounded through me again that Henry wasn’t here to share this.

But then Xander said, “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

“Oh, good, you’re here, Jordan. I was just about to come out and look for you.” The owner of the bakery, a sweet woman named Kelly, dusted her hands off on her apron before holding one out to shake. “It’s so good to meet you at last. And you must be Mr. Maxwell,” she said to Xander. “Congratulations!”

“Uh, no,” I said, laughing awkwardly. “This is my soon-to-be stepson. Henry is—ill—and couldn’t be here today. Luckily, his son was available to volunteer for the task.”

Kelly faltered only for a moment. “That is lucky,” she said, smiling at Xander, whose face was now blank. “You can tell your dad what he missed because I put together an amazing menu.”

She herded us to a corner of the empty bakery, where she had already set some plates. There were glasses of champagne, too, which I hadn’t asked for. It was the same brand and vintage that I had already ordered in bulk for the wedding. I thought that was a considerate touch and very professional.

“For the first layer, you were thinking lemon and elderflower, right?” Kelly put a slice of white-frosted cake on each of our plates. “There’s a little bit of lemon zest in the frosting. Enjoy!”

“I bet you didn’t think your afternoon would look like this, did you?” I teased. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much cake for the fun of it. Probably not since grade school.”

Xander sipped his champagne. I noticed Kelly hadn’t bothered to ask him whether he was old enough to drink. He wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to rat him out. “Is my father really sick?”

“N-no,” I said. “He had… work.”

Xander nodded as if the news didn’t surprise him. I watched him take a bite of cake, chewing it thoughtfully. He had great table manners, handling the silverware with a delicacy that was surprising given the size of his hands. “It’s good.”