How To Bake The Perfect Wedding Cake

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I shrug. “I don’t know. Why don’t we go to one of those fancy bakeries and taste a bunch?”

“Okay. Just for tasting though as I want to bake our wedding cake.”

I jerk my head back. “You want to bake our wedding cake?” I shake my head. “I don’t know, I think we should leave that to the professionals.”

Jack’s face lights up. “Are you forgetting that I’m an award-winning pie maker?”

I roll my eyes. “No and technically I am also an award-winning pie baker.”

“Lauren, second place isn’t the same as first.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You are so ridiculous.” I roll my eyes. Over the Fourth of July my grandmother insisted that I enter an apple pie baking contest, as she had always won pie baking contests and she thought it was time I took up the mantle. Per her request, I did. Surprisingly, Jack also entered at the last minute and won. I’m still a bit shocked by that. Not that he isn’t a great baker. We made pecan pies together over Thanksgiving and a red velvet cake over Christmas, but our own wedding cake?

“I’m ridiculously in love with you and I want us to bake our wedding cake together.” He takes a swallow of his wine.

My cheeks heat up. No matter how many times Jack tells me he loves me it never ceases to make me want to throw my body on a fainting chair and just float around taking in his words, swooning. His love. He is my everything. Sitting here with him has swiped away all the negativity of my workweek. It’s so great to be with someone who can magically make everything better just by being present.

“I don’t know…don’t you think we should just hire someone?”

“No, I want to bake it with you. I want to find the perfect wedding cake recipe and I want each whip of the batter and each layer of frosting to be with you.”

I take a deep breath. “Wow, how could a girl turn that kind of offer down?”

“You can’t. Think about how much fun we’ll have deciding on the perfect cake and the right frosting.” Jack squeezes my hand. Vibrations of love spread up my arm and I can’t believe I’m in this moment of wonderfulness. How did I get here? To this point of having this amazing guy who wants to bake our wedding cake? Together. I blink my eyes. Yup, this is real.

“Okay, let’s do it.” I nod my head. Jack leans in and kisses my lips and I don’t care for this small moment that we are in a restaurant and not alone. Our kisses trail on for a second too long before we settle back and focus on the meal. Followed afterwards by dessert back at my—our—house.

***

Jack seems to be asleep and I’m wide awake. Visions of office issues and now cake baking are crumbling over in my mind and piling up into a huge ball of fear. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tackle any of them. I climb out of bed and tiptoe to the living room. Our wine from earlier is still out. I pick up a glass not sure if it was Jack’s or mine but it honestly doesn’t matter. We are living together, we kiss…it’s probably okay if we share a glass. I flip on the TV and find the Food Network. I want to watch mindless entertainment with no drama. Pure comfort. I settle into the couch and listen as the host delivers a great speech about the fluffiness of cake and how you want to make sure to beat it to the speed and time listed in the instructions or else it will be a flop.

The blender begins to go again and the host is trying to speak over it. I take a swig of my wine and sense I’m being watched. I glance in the doorway of my bedroom and Jack is leaning against the frame.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Jack makes his way towards me and sits down.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Is something on your mind?”

I let out a small laugh. “Not really, I just wanted to watch—”

“Wow, Lauren, I didn’t think you would take the cake baking so seriously. You don’t have to cram and study cake baking. We’re going to do this together.” He grabs my hands and kisses my fingertips and I’m being swiped away from reality. The reality is that I wasn’t studying cake baking, but rather just being a vegetable. There is no way I can tell Jack that, not now, not in this moment. I let him kiss me back to bed and enjoy this moment of naivety.

Chapter Four (#ulink_5c66c3cc-195f-5aa8-8c53-f2bc5dae8333)

Jack has been silent during the entire ride. It’s like he has been deep in thought—about what? I have no idea. After breakfast, he asked if I was ready to see his surprise. Of course I said yes and now here we sit silently in his car. It’s only been fifteen minutes but still…that’s a lot of silence. And I can’t help but worry. Surprises are usually a good thing but Jack has had his fair share of “didn’t want to tell you till I had things worked out on my own” moments. This was an issue for us before. This hang-up of his—or ours, rather. He kept things to himself. Important things. Like that he was planning on moving here and that he was going to sell his architecture firm in order to save Vintage Estates. All of which seems so long ago. Fortunately, his Aunt Minnie delivered a huge deposit to save Vintage Estates and he did move here. Both were nice surprises. But I was so in the dark in those moments. I wasn’t privy to his thought process or his grief. All of those things were kept from me. Jack wanted to shelter me from the possible bad and didn’t trust in me or our relationship enough to survive a failure. I can’t help but worry. I fiddle with my purse strap. I don’t want to be in another situation where I’m in the dark. I bite my inner cheek. Jack’s eyes were twinkling when he asked me to cancel my wedding dress shopping. So this has to be for something good.