'I hear Mallory's voice before I see her, and I feel a grin spread across my face as she emerges from the hallway. "Oh, hey Matt, you did make it," she says, throwing me a dazzling smile. I don't know how she does it, but one of those smiles never f...
"Bake a cake from scratch, he said. It'll be fun, he said."
Matt shoots me a glare and I try to ignore the grin tugging insistently on my lips. I fail miserably, cough, and steer my gaze away from his face and toward the sloppy mess on the counter that had once been a cake. Chunks of it were still stuck to the bottom of the pan, where the underdone batter had given way when my fiancé attempted to remove it.
"You should have left it in the oven for a few more minutes," I say, snatching a fluffy, yellow-white piece that had been closer to the edges and was at least fully cooked.
"I see that now," he replies dryly as I pop the fragment in my mouth. "It looked done."
"Clearly, it was not." I glance over at the clock on the stove. "We've got time to make another. Or do you just want to pick up something from the store before we get to Whitney and Stephen's?"
Matt shakes his head. "No. I can start on another if you want to sort... this out." He gestures widely to our first attempt.
"You sure you don't want me to do the cake?"
"No," he says flatly, already moving to pull flour and sugar from the cupboard. When he speaks again, his tone takes on a teasing note. "What makes you so much more qualified, anyways?"
I lift one shoulder in a shrug. "Remember my cousin Sophie?" I ask. "We had lunch with her the one time." He furrows his brow for a moment, then nods. "She's really into baking. When we were younger, she always ended up wrangling me into it. I learned a thing or two." I step toward him. "I don't mind making it if you want me to, really."
"I've got it."
This time, I don't bother hiding my smile. "I see. It's become a personal mission for you now, hasn't it?"
He shoots me another glare over his shoulder, and the lack of an answer is all I need.
"I know you too well," I say in a singsong voice.
He shakes his head, mutters something under his breath, and starts measuring ingredients. I chuckle to myself and begin salvaging whatever parts of the cake are actually cooked in hopes of making use of them later. Once that's done, I take another look at the time and pull a bottle of cream from the fridge, figuring it couldn't hurt to make up the whipped cream we were planning on using for frosting.
By the time I've flicked off the mixer, the second cake is successfully in the oven. The next thing I know Matt's behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist as he sneaks a taste of the whipped cream.
"Oi!" I swipe at his hand and get only his most innocent smile in return. "Such a child," I say under my breath, shaking my head.
The next thing I know, I'm pinned up against the cabinet, facing him. "You're the one marrying me, what does that say about you?"
"It says you accidentally just dissed yourself while trying to question my judgment," I shoot back. He pauses, evidently realizing I'm right, and I laugh to myself, wrapping my arms more firmly around his waist and nuzzling his collar. "Luckily, I still—"
I cut myself off with a gasp as something cold spreads across my cheek. My jaw drops when I realize what he's just done. He only smirks in return.
"You little—" I start, unable to find myself truly annoyed as I go to wipe away the smear of whipped cream on my face and find his lips landing there instead. My eyes flutter shut and I briefly wonder how one man can simultaneously make me feel dizzy, breathless, irritated, approximately five years old, and completely, utterly loved.
Dimly, I hope he never stops making me feel like that.
"You were saying?"
"Mm," is all I answer, my lips brushing lightly over his, growing more insistent once I'm certain he's been distracted from his earlier mischief.
And that's when I strike.
The look on his face will forever be etched into my mind—eyes wide, mouth falling open, a streak of whipped cream on his cheek to match the one he'd given me. I can't help but let a little giggle escape my mouth.
His slack-jawed expression gradually turns into a smirk. "Oh, it's on now." He takes another scoop from the bowl and I squeak in protest, flailing in an attempt to knock his hand away.
"Matthew Meese, if you get that in my hair you are a dead man."
He's very lucky I love him too much to carry out that threat.
~~~
I clear that last vestiges of cream from my hair, shake my head, and step out of the shower. I begin to dry out the dripping wet locks, musing to myself what Whitney and Stephen will say when we tell them we had to make two attempts at both the cake itself and the frosting for it.
The sound of a phone splits the silence, the ringtone telling me it's mine. I crack the bathroom door open, calling to Matt and hoping he's within reach. "Honey, can you get that for me?"
"Yeah," he calls back, and a moment later the ringing stops.
I assume it can't have been too important, considering he doesn't come to get me in the time it takes me to dry my hair, throw on a light layer of makeup, and get dressed again.
"Who called?" I inquire when I make my way out into the living room.
I assume that answer would be a telemarketer, or one of the cast, or a wrong number, or one of my family members. The last thing I expect to hear come off Matt's lips is "Luke Saxon."
I freeze in my tracks. "What?"
"Luke," Matt repeats. "And he wanted to talk to me, actually."
Blinking, I can only wonder what an ex-boyfriend whose psychopathic brother tried to ruin or end our lives wanted from my fiancé. "What for?"
Matt lifts a brow. "That's an interesting story, actually."
The Ridiculous universe continues in
LUDICROUS
Coming April 2017
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
