Page 105 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

Huffing out a breath, Daphne cut the engine and got out of her car. She circled around to the passenger side to grab a box from the front seat, then closed the door with her hip as she faced the house. Calvin was in there, and he probably didn’t want to see her.

But she had to do this.

If anything, she had to apologize. Maybe he’d slam the door in her face and she wouldn’t get the chance, but she had to try.

Calvin was the one who’d jarred her out of her stupor of safety. He was the one who’d shown her that there was depth to her she hadn’t plumbed before. He was the one who’d seen it and appreciated it. He was strong and kind and good, and he didn’t deserve to be lied to.

Even if he told her he never wanted to see her again, she had to stand up, put her hand on her heart, and tell him he deserved better than to have been misled.

Being a planner at heart, Daphne had rehearsed her speech. She’d visualized it a thousand times over the course of the day, ever since she’d seen the post on the sheriff’s department’s social media about Calvin’s birthday. She’d written down all the reasons she wanted to tell him she was sorry, and all the ways that he’d made her life better in the short time they’d been together.

All those carefully practiced words flew out of her head as soon as Calvin answered her knock. He stood in the doorway, surprise lifting his brows, and Daphne forgot everything she was meant to tell him. He was so beautiful, standing there in a soft tee and faded jeans. She ached to be allowed to fall against his chest and feel his arms come around her.

Maybe this was her penance. To see him this last time and know that she loved him while being absolutely certain that she’d messed it all up.

Grief and longing and need formed a writhing ball of snakes in her gut, and all Daphne could do was look up in his hazel eyes and wish she’d realized how much she felt for him earlier. She wished she hadn’t been so afraid.

“Daphne,” he said, breaking the silence stretching between them.

She blinked, then blurted out, “I made cake.”

His gaze dropped to the box she held between two trembling hands. “Cake?”

“I didn’t know what flavor you liked so I made vanilla, but then I worried you’d think that was boring, so I made a red velvet one withcream cheese icing. And, actually, really I made you twenty-four cakes because I decided to do cupcakes, because ... well ... I ...”

In her panicked need to make amends, Daphne had thought of the silly nickname she used to hate. Now, the twenty-four treats lined up in the box with perfectly piped swirls of icing seemed like a presumptuous way of demanding that Calvin forgive her.

His brows furrowed as he glanced in the box. “I see.”

“For your birthday,” she explained, feeling stupid. “I saw the sheriff’s department post about it online, and I thought ...” Gulping, Daphne shook her head. “It’s probably silly. I just thought about what you said, about no one ever making you a birthday cake, and I figured ...”

His eyes lifted to meet hers. She couldn’t read what was written there, and her anxiety mounted. He deserved so much better than a bumbling apology from a woman who didn’t know herself. She’d thought a few cupcakes would fix what she’d done?

“I’m so sorry,” she said, blinking back tears. “We made that silly deal, and I lied to you. I caused a scene at your mother’s vow renewal, and I wasn’t honest with you.”

“About what?”

“About how I felt!” Daphne cried, clutching the box closer as she sucked in a hard breath. “You were so strong and good and, and ... and justeverything, and you made me feel like I could do anything. You made me feel special, Calvin, and I just—got so scared. I thought you’d get bored of me and toss me aside, so I didn’t tell you the truth about the pot. I should have told you. I should have told yourmom. God, I made such a fool of myself, and now ...”

She thrust the box of cakes at him.

“Take them,” she said, then hesitated. “Unless you don’t want them, in which case, don’t. But—happy birthday. And I’m sorry. And you’re the best man I’ve ever known, and even if you tell me you never want to see me again and slam the door in my face, I’m still glad I got to spend time with you.”

Calvin still hadn’t moved. He had a strange expression on his face, and Daphne was having trouble meeting his gaze. Her heart began to thump, and she knew that once again, she’d made a mess of the situation. Panic and embarrassment and heartbreak wound themselves around her ribs, squeezing so tight it became hard to breathe.

When Calvin made no move to take the cakes from her, Daphne did the only thing she could. She gave him a no-nonsense nod, set the box on the ground between them, and hightailed it back to her car. Her pulse pounded so hard that she heard nothing but her own rushing blood and the breaths sawing in and out of her lungs. Her eyes were blurred with tears. Her hands trembled as she clawed at her purse for her keys, needing to escape.

She’d made a fool of herself—again. Cupcakes as an apology? In what world would that fix anything? He’d made it clear he didn’t want to speak to her over the past month. She shouldn’t have come to see him. It was stupid to think she deserved forgiveness.

Her keys slipped through her fingers in her purse until she finally gripped the fob. Feeling for the right button, she unlocked her doors and reached for the handle.

And a broad palm landed on the door to hold it closed.

Daphne froze. Her shoulders were hunched up near her ears, her breaths panting as if she’d sprinted from the door to the car. Hell, maybe she had. The last ten seconds were a blur.

“Is this goodbye?” Calvin asked in a low voice.

Daphne glanced at the distorted reflection of his face in the curved window of her car. Her heart splintered at the question, because of course this was the end. She gulped. “If that’s what you want,” she whispered.

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