Of course Juls would think about me when she should be jumping up and down like a maniac. She always puts others before herself. And she probably thinks I’m sensitive to this topic, but I’m not. I couldn’t be happier for her.
I squeeze her hands gently and smile. “It’s okay. Reese is in full-on ‘get me pregnant’ mode, so I’m sure it’ll happen soon enough.”
“Oh, shit,” Joey mumbles, gaining mine and Juls’ attention. His eyes widen and he grabs his coffee cup off the worktop before elaborating. “Reese is going to be crazy when you get pregnant. I can’t imagine him being any more possessive over you than he already is, and you’re not carrying his baby yet. He’s nuts when it comes to you. Unreasonably nuts at times.” He pauses, glancing around the kitchen. “Mmm. Do we have any cashews back here?”
“Over on the shelf,” I scoff, dropping Juls’ hands and turning around to grab my muffin tins. “And he’s not that possessive over me.”
“Yeah, right,” Joey says at the same time as Juls’ “yeah, okay.”
Joey chuckles softly, popping a few cashews into his mouth as I place my tins onto the worktop. “Face it, cupcake. That gorgeous man is going to put you on lock-down when he knocks you up. And when that time comes, your wardrobe won’t be the only thing he dictates.”
I restart my mixer, licking the splash of batter off my finger. “I like possessive Reese. It’s hot.”
“It’ll be real hot when he gives you a food list you have to eat from. Or when he asks you to stop working.”
I snap my head up at Joey. “I’m not quitting my job. Reese would never ask me to do that. He knows how important my business is to me.” Juls reaches over and stops the mixer, dipping her finger into the bowl. I swat her hand away. “Raw egg, prego. Back up.”
She grunts and retracts her hand. “Damn it.”
I shake my head, walking over to the racks and pulling out the container of muffins I made before closing on Friday. Grabbing a banana nut one, I hold it out to Juls and she excitedly takes it. “And it’s not like I do manual labor. With Brooke starting, hopefully sometime today, I’ll be able to plant my butt on a stool and bake away back here. I won’t even have to be on my feet that much when I’m pregnant.”
Juls bites into the top of her muffin, leaning her body against Joey who has reclaimed his stool. “She’s right, JoJo. It’s totally doable. And Reese may be possessive over her, which I agree is mad hot, but he’d never ask Dylan to give up working. This is her love.” She glances down at her watch, straightening up. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting with the caterers this morning to make sure the menu is finalized. Text me when Brooke arrives.” She plants a kiss to the top of Joey’s head and blows me one before turning on her killer heels and heading for the door.
“If she arrives,” Joey murmurs, winking at me before he heads up front.
I knock out several dozen cookies, cupcakes, and pastries, which helps keep my mind mostly off all things wedding. But not entirely. One, I am crazy excited about it and two, my mother calls three times in a forty-five-minute time period. I let her rant in my ear while I baked, ignoring her last-minute suggestions, because these aren’t tiny, doable suggestions. These are major. Like why in the world aren’t we having a full-blown Catholic service in the middle of our ceremony. Why? Because a Catholic wedding ceremony is anything but brief. I sat through one of those a few years ago and almost fell asleep. And there is no way in Hell Reese will wait that long to give me his last name; she should know that. He’s going to have a hard enough time as it is waiting the thirty-five minutes it should take us to run through everything. In fact, I’m predicting his hair will look a right mess by the time the preacher pronounces us man and wife.
And I can’t wait to see that.
Joey occasionally pops his head into the back while I bake to see if I need help, and to remind me that Brooke still hasn’t shown up. I’m all about giving the girl a chance, but I am not the type of boss who tolerates lateness well. An occasional few-minute slip-up? Fine. But not a few hours, and definitely not on your first day.
As I’m cleaning off the worktop, having finally finished all the baking I’m planning on doing for the day, the shop door opens and Joey’s voice comes booming from the front.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”
I move quickly through the doorway, stopping at the sight of Brooke’s nervous expression. “Oh, my God, Dylan. I’m so sorry. I swear to God…”
I hold up my hand and cut her off midsentence. “If you’re late again, you’re fired. This is serious, Brooke. And you could’ve at least called me.” Stepping behind the counter, I grab the new employee paperwork I’d set out for her to fill out two hours ago. “Here, go in the back and fill this out.”
She eagerly reaches for the paperwork and rounds the counter, wrapping me up in a massive hug. “I forgot to set my alarm. And I forgot to plug my phone in to charge. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”