I took a handful of deep breaths before I could look up. She set a tray on the table, holding small rectangles of cake, all of them different.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Well, I went in for some cannolis, but we got to talking and I told her you were planning a wedding, and one thing led to another, and she sent me home with these.”
It came out in a rush and I barely held back my sigh. Jackson and I had been engaged for a while now, but we hadn’t done much wedding planning. Not that it stopped my mom. She was so eager to have “the most beautiful wedding ever” that she constantly looked into things. I couldn’t blame her. She planned events all the time for charities and fundraisers, so planning parties was in her blood. Planning her son’s wedding was the pinnacle, as she explained it.
I looked over to Jackson and the heat from his eyes dimmed. I caught his stare and he smiled, but it looked strained. Jackson tended to be close-mouthed about the wedding, and it bothered me, but I wasn’t too concerned. Jackson and I loved each other and if big weddings didn’t excite him, then that was fine. As long as I could call him my husband, that was all that mattered.
“Thank you, Mom. These look delicious.”
She sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I know I’m supposed to wait for you boys, but I couldn’t help myself. And what’s the harm in a little extra cake?”
She sat down and began explaining all the flavors. There were about nine different cake combinations, all with different fillings and icing and they began to blur halfway through.
“She said you can call and schedule a better tasting. She sets up a whole display so you can create your own combinations. She’s really amazing—one of the top bakers in the area. She was even on one of those baking competitions and won.”
“She sounds expensive,” Jackson muttered.
“Nonsense,” my mom waved his comment away. “There’s no such thing when it comes to planning your wedding. Speaking of, do we have a date yet?”
I looked over at Jackson, but he was staring down at his plate, mashing his fork into the leftover cake. I knew he was just as frustrated as I was about not having a date set. The only difference was that he was the one putting it off.
“Daniel hasn’t been able to give dates that Jackson can take off yet. He’s opening that new place in New York and will need Jackson to cover while he’s away. So we’re trying to plan around that.”
“Well, that’s awfully selfish.”
“Mom.”
“It’s my son’s wedding,” she defended. “A mother wants to plan these things.”
I laid my hand over hers. “I know and we appreciate it. We’ll let you know as soon as we do.”
She gave a small smile, turning her hand under mine and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
I looked to Jackson to find him watching our hands with something akin to guilt in his eyes, but I was sure I was reading him wrong. It was probably just nausea from all the cake we ate. “You ready to go?” I asked him.
He blinked out of his stare and met my gaze, nothing but love shining there. Maybe I’d imagined it all. “Yeah,” he answered, standing to collect his plate.
“None of that,” my mom stopped him. “I’ve kept you boys long enough. Head home and get some sleep. I’ve got clean up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. I’ve got that meeting tomorrow, so I appreciate being let off the hook,” I said.
“Make sure you tell Carina I said hello.”
“I will.”
Even though Carina and I ended our engagement—in a brutal way—we still remained friends. She’d been my closest friend for most of my life. So, while it took her a while to not—rightfully—hate me, she did become my friend again. We’d never be as close as we once were, but she was extraordinarily important in both Jackson’s and my lives. Hell, if it wasn’t for her, I’d never have ended up with Jackson.
Mom walked us to the door, making sure we took the extra cake home, and stood on the stoop as we went to the car.
“Thanks again for dinner, Mom,” Jackson said.
“Make sure you let me know which flavor is your favorite, okay?”
We both nodded and closed the doors. We hadn’t even made it to the end of the long driveway before Jackson’s hand was between my legs. “I want to know which flavor is your favorite when you eat it off my dick.”
I pressed on the gas and broke a few traffic laws to get home to find out.
2
Jackson
I covered the yawn threatening to unhinge my jaw before lifting the coffee to my lips.
Standing outside the Netherland Plaza, scanning the crowd for Jake, I wondered when the last time was that I hadn’t yawned constantly. At least a month ago. Maybe two?