Page 65 of Calamity Rayne Gets Hitched

He tugged my hand. “Keep walking.”

“Is this what I think it is?” The scent of sugar and carbs wafted from the fogged windows. I doubled my pace. “Holy shit. Are we having a cake tasting?”

“Yup. The owner of the bakery’s been preparing all day.”

“Oh, my God. But wait… If the bakery’s here, how can we use them in New York?”

“He also has a location in the city. They’re family owned and they’ve been in business for almost fifty years.”

“How many cakes do we get to taste? Will there be chocolate? I heard grooms get a chocolate cake. I don’t know if that’s just for the guys, but as the bride I think I should be entitled to taste every dessert. It’s my wedding after all.”

“There will be plenty of chocolate.”

We rounded the building and entered from the front, despite the sign on the glass showing CLOSED, Hale walked right in. A delicate bell jingled overhead and the delicious scent of heaven drove me close to orgasm.

The bakery section was dim and empty. “The owner’s waiting for us.”

“It’s a private tasting?” The displays were more seductive than porn. “Look at all of this, Hale.” I turned and smiled at him. “I feel like the winner of a golden ticket.”

Hale rang the antique bell on the counter.

A little old man wearing a white muffin top hat appeared. “Monsieur and the soon-to-be Madame Davenport, welcome!”

“Chef Dubois,” Hale greeted, holding out his hand. “Let me introduce you to your soon-to-be-number-one-fan, my fiancée, Rayne.”

The baker smiled, his dark eyes hidden by bushy, grey eyebrows. “Bonjour, bonjour.”

He waved us toward a small table, intentionally placed in front of the window and dressed like it belonged on a Disney set with a white tablecloth, two black wrought iron chairs, and a single yellow rose in a bud vase. Blue linen napkins had been folded neatly beneath several silver spoons. I was in heaven.

The stout chef carried a carafe of cool milk to the table with two glasses. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’m just finishing up some last-minute touches. Excusez-moi for a moment.”

“Take your time,” Hale said as he pulled out my chair.

I eyed the glass displays and all the colorful confections as I sat. “There’s so many spoons.”

“Excited?”

“Oh, come on. You know this is better than sex to me.”

He arched a brow. “Should I be offended by that?”

“I’m just saying, a little chocolate play in the bedroom could go a long way.” I rubbed my hands excitedly. “Thank you for planning this.”

He caught my hand and traced his thumb over my engagement ring. “It’s good to see you smile. You seemed down these last few days.”

I had tried to hide my disappointment about my dad, but it was hard, especially when Elle was so busy. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell her I reached out to him. Maybe it was time to tell Hale. “I did some?—”

“Let us begin!” The baker burst from the back carrying three plates of freshly baked, beautifully iced, full-body, orgasmic slices of wedding cake. “Monsieur Davenport tells me you have a sensitivity to paprika. Not to worry. I do not keep the stuff in my kitchen.”

My mouth widened in a gaping smile as he set the cakes in front of us. “There are so many.”

“This is only the beginning. I’ve started you off with the more traditional crème au beurre and white butter cakes, but not to worry. I have many more unique options in the back if you want something more creative.”

I picked up a spoon then hesitated. “Do we just dig in?”

Chef Dubois nodded and laughed. “Bon appétit.”

I went for the frothy one with shavings of white chocolate first. “Holy mother of Godiva. What is this?”

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