Speaking of cupcakes, Will wants two dozen off your special menu to take on the road after the wedding.” “The, erm, peach kind?” “The peach kind,” Lindsey said. “I like the peach kind,” Josh said. Mikey had named them Sex on a Peach. And they were Kimmie’s second biggest seller, after the Hairy Dicks, which were coconut cake balls strategically placed with Dahlia’s chocolate-covered, ice cream-filled bananas. And Josh’s frown had disappeared, and now he was grinning as if he knew it. All of it.

A fake ring. A fake engagement. Fake love. Everything was fake. Shiny and put together on the outside, empty on the inside.

Her eyes slid closed, her secret places pulsed in anticipation, and his lips settled onto the skin beneath her ear. That was magic. She held perfectly still. He pressed a kiss to her neck. Then another, lower. A third, even lower. She squirmed. He dropped his hands. “Sorry. I---“ “Don’t stop,” Kimmie whispered.

In the third cabinet under the counter, she hit the good stuff. “Oh! You have a KitchenAid.” “If you’re planning on caressing my mixer, you should know that might make my testicles explode,” he said from behind her. Her cheeks went hot enough to glow. “That would be awkward.