Page 126 of The Billionaire Is Back

“Yup. But I have to pour the mirror glaze first. Back to work.”

And we do. We work together. After I pour the glaze over my base cake, Grady Barber forces me to pause to eat, and then he helps me craft a big, magnificent lobster cake. He rolls out fondant for me while I’m sculpting other pieces. He holds things in place for me exactly when I need it without me even having to ask him to. He rolls out the fondant for the creepy lobster legs and then gives them to me to detail. All that famous Grady Barber focus is applied to assisting me, as if we’re sculpting some grand work of art instead of a giant dessert lobster. We do all this while listening to classical music. He compliments me and asks questions, but not in that way that makes me think he’s questioning the way I do things and all of my life choices. He wants to learn. He wants to know what I know because he respects me.

I have never felt so supported by anyone before. I spent so much of my life being afraid of needing help, like it’s a weakness to need another person for anything. But I’m finally realizing how much stronger I feel having Grady by my side, and I like it. I love it, actually.

By one thirty we’ve completed a giant lobster cake. It’s like a scene out of Greek mythology—a lobster emerging from the ocean, victorious, with a crown on its head.

“This is Muhammad Lobbee, right?”

“Don’t tell Damien, but it’s Clawdia Swiffter. I’ve never actually seen Lobbee win, no matter what his name is.”

“Amazing,” he says. “This is gorgeous, Claire. And I bet it tastes fantastic. You’re amazing. I love watching you work.”

I smile at him. At least, I want to smile at him, but I’m so tired I don’t know if I can move my face anymore. “I love working with you.”

He gives me a hug, and I relax into it.

And then I close my eyes and melt into him.

When I open my eyes, my head is resting on Grady’s lap and I’m lying on the sofa in the store. It’s dark. Grady’s hand is on my arm and he’s fast asleep, but there’s still a protective quality in his posture, even when he’s unconscious. He is really here for me. And I want to be there for him. I know now that I would go anywhere to be with him. I remember this feeling. I remember having this feeling the night of the grad party. What I don’t remember is why I was so afraid of it for so many years later.

I reach up to touch his face. “I’ll go anywhere with you,” I whisper. It feels good to say it out loud.

I don’t think he hears me. But when the sun comes up, he’ll know. He’ll know I just want to be with him.

Except…

Shit.

I forgot to remind Vera to pick up the box truck and bring it here to the bakery by eight so we can get the lobster to the beach. I carefully reach around to my back pocket and pull out my phone, trying not to disturb Grady.

ME: Remember bringing book true heroes to the battle by either!

VERA:

Great. It’s fine. She’s got this. Everything is fine. I can drift back off to sleep, to a world where Grady and I are always together and everything is enough.

Chapter 35

Rocked Lobster

Claire

I slowly wake,gradually and gracefully, the way you’re supposed to, instead of being blasted by cortisol and adrenaline like I usually am. My head is still on Grady’s lap. He smells wonderful. His dark spicy wood-tinged scent mixes with a hint of manly sweat and the smell of the cake we worked on together last night. Simply delicious. The deliciousness and warmth is only enhanced by the warm, buttery late summer morning sun glazing our skin. This could be my life. I could wake up like this in Grady’s lap or his arms every morning.

Wait.

I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and scream at me.That sunlight is way too warm! Way too buttery! Way too golden delicious!

I bolt upright.

Oh my God!

“What time is it?” I yell out. Grady stirs and fumbles to check his watch, but it doesn’t matter what time it is exactly. The fact that I can see the sun at all is a problem. “Vera should be here with the truck.”

There’s banging on the storefront window. I realize it must have been that banging that woke me from my peaceful slumber. I see Vera on the sidewalk, eyes wide. She has a weird smile on her face as she points to Grady and mouths,See?! He’s your lobster!She arranges the fingers of both hands into pincher claws, like two old lobsters holding hands, the way Phoebe did on that episode ofFriends. Normally I would let my BFF in and explain to her that Phoebe was wrong when she said that lobsters fall in love and mate for life, but there is only one thing on my mind right now.

I get up and yell at her through the window. “Tell me you have the box truck!”

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