Testing Recipes for Disaster (Emberwood #2)

Chapter 41- Lauren

I n one exceptionally smooth move, I was sitting in his lap. His hands gripped my thighs like I might float away if he didn’t keep me there.

“I’m all in, too.”

His lips met mine with urgency, his tongue exploring my mouth as if this was the first time. I wasn’t sure how long we got lost in each other, but my lips were tingling when he finally pulled back.

“I want to take you to bed more than anything in the world right now. But if I don’t get in the shower, I risk seriously offending you.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of dirty. I mean, still hot. But yes, shower.” I slid off his lap and giggled at the mock hurt on his face.

“You could have softened it a little, Laur. Do you need anything while I’m doing that?”

“I think I’ll grab water and get in bed. Your room isn’t, like, scary with only a mattress on the floor like some 90s-movie-frat-boy, is it?”

Maybe it was telling that I’d only been in his apartment a couple of times and never even bothered to go to his room. I accused him of not letting me in, but there was evidence that I was happy to stay on the outside sometimes.

You’re making progress now. It's fine.

“Well, you can go see for yourself. But I promise I have a whole bedframe, a headboard, and even a complete matching sheet set and comforter.”

“Thank god. It was a bit of a gamble coming over here so late.”

He shook his head and tugged at my hand to lead me to his room. He was right; it was perfectly adequate, even if horribly under-decorated.

“I’ll be right back.”

He dropped a kiss on my forehead and went to shower, leaving me in his room. I got under the covers and was immediately relaxed in a way I hadn’t been in days having the scent of him surround me.

I didn’t remember hearing him turn off the water, and there was only a vague recollection of the bed dipping down next to me and his warm body pressed against mine before the world melted away.

I ELECTED TO GO WITH Jer to pick up his suit. Then, we stopped by Sam’s house to finalize the cake stuff one more time because Jer was kind of a wreck about making sure it was perfect. But I wasn’t going to complain about seeing Sam before I had to share her with everyone else at the rehearsal that night.

“Jeremy. This is unnecessary. The ideas you’ve pitched me are phenomenal, and the cake is going to be amazing. I have all the confidence in the world in you,” Sam assured him after he asked her about the peonies for the third time.

“Okay, but if you don’t love it, am I still allowed to come to happy hour?”

“Unfortunately, no. Your invite will be forever rescinded.” She tilted her head in sympathy. “You’re a dork. Get out of my house so I can relax.”

“Aren’t brides supposed to be, like, stressed days before their wedding?” he asked.

“Maybe those brides don’t have an Aunt Zin and a Lauren and a Jeremy who’ve made sure this is going to be an amazing day. And I would be happy to marry Jesse even if there’s a downpour and the cake tastes like cardboard. All is well.”

Coming from anyone else, that might have sounded cliché. But from Sam, who was ever the realist-erring-on-the-side-of-pessimism, it was kind of heart-warming.

“Well, if you think of anything you need last minute, let me know,” I assured her, hugging her tightly. “Enjoy relaxing.”

“ You can stay if you want. Your energy is lovely. His is all staticky.” She wrinkled her nose at Jer.

“I’ll come back by later and do your makeup if you want.”

She readily agreed, and I pulled Jer out the door before he could ask more redundant questions. We went to my house so he could start to thaw the cake and dye the buttercream perfect shades of lavender and cornflower blue.

“I can help you with whatever, you know. I took the rest of the week off so I can be where I’m needed,” I assured him.

“That would be great. Even if that’s you sitting there looking hot while I assemble the cake. And you can make sure I don’t go overboard with the edible glitter.”

“Sam won’t be happy unless you do go overboard with the edible glitter.”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “I will give you a spoon of icing to eat if you come here and tell me when you think this is the right shade of blue.”

I immediately hopped down from the barstool and awaited my spoon. His buttercream was fucking amazing.

“Open.”

I felt my stomach flutter when the word landed. My lips parted, and he lightly touched the spoon to my tongue and let me lick off the frosting.

“Good girl,” he added when I groaned at how good it was.

“That was hotter than it had any right to be,” he said, his voice strained. “But I have to do this before I can do the things I want to do to you.”

A shiver worked its way up my spine, and I stood on my tip toes to plant a single kiss on his mouth.

“Let’s get to it, then.”

WALKING THROUGH THE ceremony in Zin’s garden, when it was just us and our families, was kind of magical. It didn’t have the weight of the actual wedding day, where everything had to be perfect. And when Sam almost tripped coming down the aisle, we could laugh about it and continue on. Zin was officiating their ceremony, which would contain the typical elements of a wedding and a hand-fasting, which seemed like a sweet, symbolic way to show that their lives were being woven together. I stood in my spot and diligently paid attention to when I was supposed to fluff Sam’s dress, hold her flowers, and hand her the ring. The meds made this easier, I had to admit. My thoughts weren’t jumbled up and wrapped in noisemakers and blinking lights.

But in the few moments I wasn’t zeroed in on my brother and my best friend? My eyes were on Jer. And his were on me. And it felt like we were in our own little bubble in those moments. The sun went down, and twinkle lights came alive in the trees and along the garden path, and all of it was so beautiful. I also didn’t hate that they’d gotten the dinner catered by the taco truck owners who were responsible for me eating most days. Jer had made some ridiculous cookies with chocolate chips and jalape?os to complement the Mexican food. They shouldn’t have been good. But that little kick of spicy with the sweet had me sneaking back to the table for thirds.

I’d been so ready for this wedding to be over because of the chaos it had wrought in its wake, but now that it almost was, I realized I’d miss the excitement of it.

Maybe your next hyperfixation can be event planning .

I shook it off, though, because I already knew what my next project was going to be.