Page 3 of The Wedding Favor

I shrugged, hugging the pickle jar tighter. “It’s Two Harts. Not much changes around here.” I loved that about our small town. “How did you know I was in here?”

“I saw you.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Aidan didn’t have eye crinkles. Aidan’s eyes were darker, too, like melted chocolate. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell anyone. I figured you had your reasons.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“I thought you should at least get a piece of cake.” He lifted the plate higher. “You gonna take it?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

His gaze focused on my face, so long I wanted to squirm. “You’re lying.”

“I am not,” I lied, staring back at him with a bored expression. I’d learned that it wasn’t anger or sadness that got to people, it was apathy. If nothing mattered, then nothing could hurt me. Aidan was the first person I’d let see inside. But being vulnerable had taught me a lesson—it led to heartache. No more of that.

He smirked. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” I was a good liar. It was my superpower. There was no way he could tell.

“Hard-headed, too.” Abe set the plate on the closest empty shelf I’d just cleared. “You should meet my daughter. You have a lot in common.”

“Oh? She’s amazing then?”

“Obviously.” He pointed. “You gonna put that down?”

I hugged the pickles closer, like a shield. “No, I’m good.”

With a soft laugh, he gently tugged the jar from me, his fingers brushing mine. I frowned at the tingle of awareness that traveled up my arm. He set it on a shelf and held out the plate. After a moment’s hesitation, I took it. A fork appeared from the pocket of his jeans.

“What did the cake say to the fork?” Abe wagged the utensil in front of me.

Instead of replying, I grabbed it and took a huge bite. My eyes slid closed at the first taste.

“You’re looking sharp today.”

My eyes snapped open. “Did you just dad-joke me?”

“It’s a talent.” He slid his hands into his pockets and studied me.

I took another bite of my cake and studied him back. He was maybe an inch shorter than my five feet nine inches, but he seemed to take up all the space anyway. Wide shouldered with arms that strained the sleeves of his t-shirt taut and jeans that hung low on his hips. He looked… capable, strong, comfortable with his body. A guy who could probably handle himself in a dark alley. Or a biker bar. Like he could wrestle bears; Aidan looked like he’d be better at hiding from said bear.

Abe raised one dark eyebrow. “How is it?”

“It’s good,” I said with a shrug. Inside, my sweet tooth was practically fainting in ecstasy. The way to my heart had always been chocolate.

I plopped down on the stepladder. Cake, I mused as I carefully ate the inside layers and filling, would never break my heart or hide from bears. Cake’s intentions were pure.

“Why aren’t you eating the frosting?” Abe asked.

“I save that for the end. The frosting is the best part.”

“Do you do that with everything? Save the best for last?”

I paused, the fork halfway to my mouth. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I’ve found most people take the best first and leave the rest for everyone else.”

“Wow. That was deep,” I said. “Did you read it in a fortune cookie?”

“Nah, made that one up all by myself.” He watched me while I dug back into the cake, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So why are you really hiding?”