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We move through the narrower space between the row of bistro tables along the front window. The space is plenty big, but with Trey, Linc, Pierce, Declan and me trying to get through, it feels tighter.

“Maybe form a line, Thunder?” I say.

“Maybe let situations unfold without having to micromanage the details,” Cass says to me under her breath.

Winona leans into Cass. “Good to see you two are still picking at each other even after you’ve started dating. It’s kind of cute.”

I chuckle softly.

Cass looks at me. “That’s not funny, QB.”

“It’s funny to me,” I tell her, pulling out a chair for her when we reach the table.

She looks at the chair like we’re five years old and it’s lava. But, she takes a seat, and I sit next to her.

The chairs are smaller, perfect for a bakery, but not so ideal for five men over six foot tall and well over two hundred pounds a piece. My leg brushes against Cass’s, reminding me of the night we ate at the Fork and Fiddle. If Declan and Winona hadn’t set us up, we might not be here now. At least, not willingly sitting next to one another.

Emberleigh and Jolene bring out the cake slices on plates and set them around the table.

“We’ve got lemon raspberry, salted caramel butter cake, strawberry champagne cake, chocolate hazelnut espresso, and a tuxedo mousse layer cake,” Emberleigh says. “Of course, we can deconstruct any of these elements and make something different like a strawberry chocolate mousse cake. The sky’s the limit. Also, we suggest starting with the lighter options and ending on chocolate hazelnut.”

Trey already has his fork poised over the sample sitting between him and the blonde woman wearing well-worn cowboy boots. Her hair is plaited in braids. She looks like a salt of the earth type of person. I like Winona’s friends. They all seem genuine. It reminds me of my friend group back home.

“Trey?” I say.

“Yeah?” He looks up at me, fork still hovering over the first slice of cake.

“This isn’t lunch. Pace yourself.”

He chuckles and Cass places her hand on my thigh and attempts to pinch me. No luck. My leg doesn’t have a lot of extra give to it.

“What was that for?” I ask under my breath.

“Bossiness. He’s a grown man. Let him eat cake how he wants.”

I shake my head. Bossiness? She’s accusing me of bossiness—while bossing me worse than anyone has ever, including my own mother who earned the right.

Trey’s watching us with a glint in his eye. “Thanks, Cass. You’ve got my back. I like that.”

I don’t know why my arm raises and loops lazily across the back of Cass’s chair. It’s an old habit, I guess. One of my friends gets too warm with a woman I’m dating and I tug her close or link hands. She’s mine. Back off. It’s archaic, I know. But I can’t help it. And, in Cass’s case, it works to sell the bit.

Cass glances at me as if to say, Is that entirely necessary? And her reaction fuels my irrational desire to mess with her.

“Let’s dig in!” Winona exclaims.

Declan lifts his fork and takes a bite of the strawberry champagne cake. “Mmmm. That’s good. I’m sold.”

“You have to try them all,” Winona protests.

“Here,” he says, forking another bite and holding it out to her.

She takes it, eyes on his, their love for one another evident.

“Should I feed you?” I tease Cass.

“Not if you want to keep your fingers attached to your hand.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. She’s a spitfire. Reminds me of a horse I once owned. It took me six months to even get her to take a saddle. We couldn’t trust her for basic rides until nearly a year and a half in. Not that women are horses. Definitely not. And not that I’m breaking Cass of anything. I pity the man who ends up with her. She’ll have him in a vise all his days.