“So…who bet that these two wouldn’t follow through with the bet?” Tara demanded loudly, looking along the bar.
“Right here! I did,” Izzie dutifully raised her hand, and Connor looked at her, shaking his head.
“My best friend, tsk tsk, doesn’t even trust me to follow through with a bet,” he said disapprovingly.
“I was right, wasn’t I? Only Rachel followed through.”
“That’s a valid point,” Rachel said, taking a sip of his whiskey before grimacing because she still didn’t like it, but tried it every time.
“And who bet that Rachel would win?”
Cian, Hailey, and Maddie spoke up.
Connor gaped at his best friend – of fifteen years! – while Rachel laughed. “What the hell, man?”
“What?” Cian asked, confused. “It was a purely logical decision. I figured if you lost, at least I’d win. And if you won, I’d win too because I’d be happy for you.”
“You can’t blame Cian for his cleverness,” Rachel confirmed, nodding as she squeezed his hand under the bar.
“Are you sure you should say something like that to me when you’re sitting on a teetering bar stool?” he asked in her ear.
Goosebumps ran down her neck, but she replied calmly, “Try it. I’d hire Gareth as my lawyer and sue you for millions. He gave me his number. He said if our accidental sex tape somehow made it onto the internet, he could take action.”
Connor snorted. “Gareth wouldn’t have time to represent you. He’s busy negotiating contracts with his arch nemesis and top sports agent, Hazel Barrow — and when that happens, he’s in such a bad mood that any act of kindness seems like a complete waste of time.”
“Hmm.” Rachel narrowed her eyes. “I feel like I’d like to meet Hazel.”
“Oh, you will,” Maddie said, who had obviously shamelessly overheard their conversation. “She’s Fox’s agent and he’s bringing her to our wedding as his plus one.”
“Who’s Fox?” Rachel asked, irritated.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “You need to watch more ice hockey, Rachel!”
Rachel replied that she would watch the World Yoga Championships and no other sport, but Connor wasn’t on the same page because Gareth was coming to Matt and Maddie’s wedding, and… Shit.
It was one thing when the two of them met in a work context, but in a place where they didn’t have to act professionally? He really hoped Maddie knew what she was getting into.
“Why wasn’t I allowed to bet?” Ada complained, waving a nacho in her father’s face.
“Because gambling is only allowed at eighteen,” Cian reminded her. “But you’re allowed to be in a bar at thirteen. Please don’t tell your grandparents. They believe you’re missing a mother figure in your life anyway.”
“Okay. But if I have to lie to them…I want to adopt Hailey’s blind goldfish. And you have to change the stupid baseball game, which is really boring,” she said without batting an eye, gesturing to the TV above Tara’s head.
“No,” Cian stated simply.
“Do you think Gran will immediately hop a plane and leave Ireland forever if I tell her I’m hanging out at a bar right now?” Ada wondered aloud.
“Man, Ada really is a great girl!” Hailey said contentedly.
Cian sighed and gestured to Tara that he needed another drink. The idiot was drinking sparkling water, so Connor doubted it would help. “Tara, change the channel, okay? The goldfish is out of the question.”
“Oh, Baking with the Stars is about to start!” Ada stated contentedly, and Tara changed the channel with a grin.
“So how much money do I get for winning the bet?” Maddie wanted to know. “I believed in both of you.” She nodded proudly. “But I’m a little angry, Rachel. Because of you, my archenemy is coming to my wedding in a few weeks!”
“Am I seriously still your archenemy?” Connor asked, perplexed. “I begged you for help! I begged you to let me sign up for Match Me! to convince Rachel that I was worth another chance.”
“And I loved that,” Maddie replied kindly. “But you’re going to have to work hard to make me forget all the times you compared Match Me! to astrology and rain dances.”
Snorting, Connor turned to Rachel. “Can you help me?”
She frowned. “To be honest, the astrology and rain dances still bother me too.”
“Hm,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder, pulling her as close as possible. “You said you’d freely forgive me after orgasm number thirty-three. I’ve been counting.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Did I say that? Pretty sure it was orgasm number fifty-five.”
He kissed her gently on the neck before briefly biting her earlobe. “Is that so?”
She shuddered in his arms and nodded. “Yeah, and maybe we should just go and work on forgiving you. What do you think?”
He chuckled softly and nodded before standing. “Okay, guys, we’re leaving,” he said loudly. “No matter how much fun it is to listen to you guys raking in your wins at my expense.”
“At your expense?” Izzie complained. “It was our money.”
Yes, that was his only consolation.
He pushed the chair back for Rachel and took the last sip of whiskey, his eyes flicking to the TV for one last score, but there was no baseball on. Instead…
Connor choked and coughed, spitting whiskey onto the counter.
“Hey,” Tara complained. “What’re you doing?”
But he wasn’t paying any attention to her. He stared open-mouthed at the TV screen — on which Alec could be seen smiling at the camera, saying something, and simultaneously pouring ingredients into a shiny red bowl. Various other kitchen islands could be seen behind him, but Connor was too focused on his brother to pay much attention.
“What the hell is Alec doing on TV?” Rachel asked, shocked, having obviously heard it too.
“Turn it up, Tara!” he demanded, shaking his head.
Tara didn’t need to be told twice, and he heard Alec explaining that he was making his special buttercream. Which was admittedly award-winning, but…what the fuck?
Connor stared at the screen in disbelief. “He’s in L.A. for this? A baking show?”
“It’s not just any baking show!” Hailey exclaimed excitedly. “It’s Baking with the Stars!”
“I don’t see any stars, I just see Alec!” Connor said.
“The stars are there somewhere. Professional pastry chefs partner with celebrities and have a bake-off,” Ada explained absently. “Oh my God, his partner is Vanna Rey!”
“What?” Why the hell didn’t he know? The country star was friends with him!
“Why didn’t Alec tell me he was on a silly baking show?” he wanted to know.
“Maybe because you refer to it as a silly baking show?” Rachel suggested, slipping her hand into his.
“The judge is amazing,” Ada continued excitedly. “She wrote all these books. Baking Less Shitty, for example. She’s a baking goddess, and…” Ada squealed. “Oh my God, there she is!”
A pretty woman with light brown skin and a bright red apron that said Chief of Baking appeared on screen and asked Alec if she could try his buttercream.
His brother had no problem with it at all, until…
“Mm, yes,” she said slowly, tilting her head from right to left. “Maybe a little less yolk next time.”
Oh, Shit.
He saw Alec’s eyebrows furrow…and the fire of hell begin to burn in his eyes.
Yep. Nobody criticized his buttercream!
“He looks angry,” Rachel whispered.
“He’s been making buttercream since he was seven.” Connor shook his head during a commercial break.
“Oh. So…that comment would upset him?”
“He’ll be as angry as I would be if ten thousand alarm clocks go off at once and then throw olives at me.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “That’s not good.”
“Nope.”
“Then we’d better sleep at my place?”
“Yep.”
They said goodbye to the others and stepped outside into the fresh air. The sun was low over the sea, reflecting off the choppy water and golden sand.
“Hey. Want to go metal-detecting tomorrow?” Rachel asked, pressing each of his fingers in turn with hers. She did that sometimes, as if she needed to make sure he was still there. But she didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t going anywhere. He tightened his hand around hers and kissed her temple.
“Yep. Winnie’s expecting it.”
Besides, they wouldn’t want to be in the house when Alec came back. Because, damn, that buttercream thing…he’d take it personally. And when Alec took something personally, the world was a worse place. Especially when it came to baking!
“Hey, want to bet I find more wedding rings than you?” Rachel asked with a grin.
“I’m starting to think you’re a gambling addict,” he observed dryly.
She laughed. “Perfect Rachel was never one to make questionable bets. I think I’ve got some catching up to do. Oh, we could find Matt and Maddie’s wedding rings! Then they’ll have something used.”
“I think the hockey pro can afford his own rings,” Connor said vaguely. “And personally, I’d rather buy my wife a new ring that hasn’t been through a divorce. So don’t expect to get a used one anytime soon.”
Rachel smiled up at him. “Connor, you don’t have to…”
“I know. I’m still thinking about it. But you know, I’ve been wondering all these years if I can make someone happy…and if marriage does that for you, maybe it’s not the end of the world.”
Rachel laughed. “Wow, you’re such a romantic. But you know…you make me happy like this too,” she whispered, kissing the back of his hand. “Very happy.”
“You make me happy too.”
“Hm. Isn’t that somehow even more romantic than I love you? You make me happy?” she said contentedly.
“Yeah, maybe. Tell me again anyway.”
She laughed again. “Connor Stone, I love you. Even though you’re doing olives an injustice.”
He grinned and stopped because he needed both hands to kiss her. “I love you too, Rachel James. Even though you have too many cacti.”
Rachel grinned and stood on her tiptoes to meet him. “Can there ever be too many, now that I can fill your apartment with them?”
“You never will.”
That was a lie; he would let her. But she wouldn’t overdo it. Because they gave a lot, but always left enough for themselves.
THE END
Sierra Lewis 