Page 90 of Sugar Baby Mine

“Don’t run away from me,” Ben says gently.

“I’mnot.” I totally am. Trying to, at least. “I’m just, you know, doing my job. My boss is waiting for me to finish putting out the flowers.”

He reaches out, fingers hovering at my cheek, but not quite making contact even as he steps closer. “I had no idea they booked The Blooming Box—that’s certainly not something me and Alec would speak about. My invitation was mostly a ‘You showing up for my wedding? By the way, it’s in two weeks,’ so it’s not like I knew you were workingthiswedding.”

“Clearly.”

“Don’t pout.” He brushes his fingers along my jaw when I tiltmy head toward his touch.

“Why not?”

His thumb grazes the jut of my lower lip. “Because it makes me want to kiss you.”

“And you can’t. Not here.”

Ben almost rakes a hand through his hair before he remembers where he is, what he’s all dressed up for, and then reaches it out to tuck my hair behind my ear instead.

“Emmeline…”

“I understand. It’s all good. You didn’t sign up to take me to family events with you, that’s not a part of our…agreement.”

His lips purse, brows pinching together. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have at least told you what I was doing today, then maybe this meeting wouldn’t have felt out of left field.”

He’s right, but I can’t say for sure I wouldn’t have actually just told Angela that I was on my deathbed, because there was no way I was showing up to a wedding Ben’s family would be at. Even now, I keep looking down the hallway over his shoulder, waiting for the moment his mother pops up, because I’m not exactly looking forward to that interaction.

If only because it’ll shatter my heart into a million pieces if he utters the wordfriend.

“Maybe, but you don’t owe me anything.”

There’s some movement behind the door and I can hear the chatter of the ladies ramping up as well, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.

Ben turns my attention back to him, tipping my chin up with his finger, one last sweep of his gaze over my face checking for the cracks I know are wide open.

“Stay until the reception. Tell the wedding planner, Nikki, that I said it was all right. I didn’t bring anyone else here as a plus one, if that’s what you’re worried about. I only want you.”

I scoff, but the nerves in my stomach settle just a little.

“Did you and your boss ride here together?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take you home if you stay. She’s more than welcome to stay as well.”

“What makes you think I want to stay?” It’s not like I want him to beg me—though wouldn’t that be a treat?—it’s that I want a reason to stay. One that doesn’t involve me hiding in the back of the room watching him as I avoid the eggshells for the both of us.

His lips twitch. “I know on good authority that the cake is a copycat of the royal lemon elderflower cake.”

Oooooh, you motherfucker.

His fingers slip down to circle my wrist and bring my hand up for him to kiss the back. The reverence with which he turns my palm over and also kisses the raised scars is what has me caving.

“All right, bucko, you’ve convinced me. Just don’t call me your friend out there if anyone asks, and I won’t have to hold your dick hostage the next time you decide you want to bang my brains out again.”

I take the biggest slice of that wedding cake I can find among the plates, like a little vulture ready for my prey. The cake layers are lightly floral, sweet and citrusy, complimenting the tart tang of the lemon curd packed between the layers. And the buttercream? Just bury me with it.

The cake alone is worth the slog of the ceremony sitting awkwardly in the back with Angela. She didn’t stay for the reception, though had some choice words for me about beingsafe. Especially when I pointed Ben out to her in the wedding party.

I think she even licked her lips.

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