Page 18 of My Dream

“Hell, that is good,” Rocky called suddenly. He set down his fork and swiped his finger through the smudge of buttercream left on his plate. “And I don’t even like coffee.”

My hopes perked up—maybe it wasn’t a complete disaster. Then again, it probably wasn’t hard to impress a teenager.

Olive shot a glare at Cue Ball. “I thought you were going to talk to him about swearing?”

Cue Ball shrugged and was completely unfazed. “I did.”

Aero leaned back in his chair with a chuckle and put his arm around Sloane. “We’ve got front-row seats to the circus of Cue Ball being a dad.”

Sloane shook her head and smiled. “I think he’s doing a good job.”

“Me too,” Dove chimed in, surprising me. “I mean, he’s at least here, right? Points for that.”

I glanced at Dove out of the corner of my eye. She hadn’t exactly been cold to me, but there was definitely distance there. I didn’t know if it was because of Russ—her dad, my boss—or something else. Russ had only mentioned Dove in passing before, usually when it had something to do with our plan to get him into office. I didn’t blame her for keeping me at arm’s length.

Olive broke the silence again as she stood and grabbed her empty plate. “That is thebestcake I have ever had. It’s so good that I’m going to have another piece.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as Yarder finally spoke up. “Yeah, I think you guys’ll make a killing once you find a place to open up shop.”

Thank god. Everyone liked the cake.

Well… everyone except for Compass.

I hadn’t seen him come into the clubhouse at all. That had been fine when the girls and I were putting away groceries and then baking, but now that everyone was digging into the cake, I wanted him in here. I couldn’t shake the urge to see if he liked it too.

Don’t ask me why. I was riding the high of everyone else’s compliments, and I wasn’t in the mood to analyze my feelings too deeply.

I went over to the half-eaten cake and cut two more slices.

“Double-fisting it?” Olive teased with a grin as she hovered nearby.

I smiled and shook my head. “No, I thought I’d go find Compass and see if he wanted a piece.”

Olive’s grin widened. “Don’t forget forks.”

I grabbed two plates, slid a fork into each, and headed out of the clubhouse.

I didn’t have to go far to find him.

Compass was sitting on the porch swing with the faint glow of his cigarette, the only light besides the dim porch bulb. Smoke curled up in lazy spirals as he stared out into the dark.

I paused for a second and watched him. He looked completely lost in thought—something I hadn’t seen from him before. Compass always seemed sure of himself and steady, like his name suggested. Seeing him quiet and pensive like this tugged at something in my chest.

“Hey,” I said softly and stepped toward him.

Compass looked up, his eyes catching the light just enough for me to see the faint surprise there. “Hey,” he replied and flicked ash off the end of his cigarette.

I held up one of the plates. “Brought you some cake.”

Compass glanced at me and snubbed out his cigarette against the arm of the swing. “Am I your taste tester?”

“I mean, you’re one of the taste testers. The rest of the club and the ol’ ladies already tried it. Now I need your opinion.” I handed him a plate and sat down beside him on the swing.

“Did they like it?” he asked and eyed the cake with mild curiosity.

“I’ll tell you after you tell me what you think.”

He chuckled softly, and his lips curved into that easy grin I’d grown used to. Then he scooped up a bite with his fork and popped it into his mouth. I leaned forward and waited.

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