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“How was the farm?” I ask.
“Oh, I can’t wait to tell you everything they told me, and I don’t think it’s going to cost a crazy amount.”
“Perfect.”
“Hey, you two, you don’t get the formality everyone else does,” Laurel calls from the back. “Get your asses back in the kitchen.”
We walk back there, and Gillian rushes over to hug Sadie then me. “I can’t wait to see what you decide on.”
“I feel like we’re stepping on your toes,” Sadie says to her, eyes full of concern.
“Why?” I ask, not following.
Gillian holds up her left hand with her sizable diamond ring from Ben. Damn, I should’ve gone bigger. “Because your brother proposed first.”
“Yeah, asshole, you’re stealing our thunder.” Ben’s smile says he doesn’t give a shit.
Gillian tilts her head and sighs. “No, you’re not. We couldn’t be happier for you guys.”
“I’m older, so technically I should be married first,” I say and rock back on my heels.
“But you’re about a decade too late,” Ben says.
“I could say the same.” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, brothers, retreat to your separate corners.” Laurel puts out her hands. “Sadie and Jude, your cake tasting.” She widens her arms over the stainless-steel table between us.
I’m not gonna lie, I fucking love this task on the wedding agenda. I sit on a stool next to Sadie and stare at all the different varieties of cake.
“You outdid yourself, Laurel. I’m not picky.” Sadie grabs the closest plate with two small forks next to it.
“That’s the classic chocolate with raspberry filling and a whipped cream.”
I fork a piece of cake, ready to eat it.
“Oh no, no, no. You should practice for the big day,” Ben says.
I stop with the fork halfway to my mouth and glare at him from the corner of my eye.
“It’s a cake tasting,” Sadie says. Thank god she doesn’t want to entertain this stupid idea of my younger brother’s.
“Oh, that would be fun. Feed each other.” Gillian motions with her hands as if we’re kindergarteners who need her to explain it to us.
I look to Sadie for her to make the decision, and she shrugs.
“Come on. This way you won’t mess up at the wedding. No bride wants cake on her face,” Laurel chimes in with her two cents I’d rather not hear.
“I guess.” Sadie moves her arm around mine.
“Mind if I snap a pic?” Ben asks, pulling out his phone.
I give him a look. “You take that phone out, and I’ll throw it in the mixer.”
“Memories,” Ben says with a shit-eating grin.
“You’re taking a picture for Emmett, asshole.”
“And Brooks.” Ben shrugs as though I should’ve known that.
