A few hours later, after more dancing, eating, and drinking, Bree found herself on a blanket under a full moon on the beach with the man she loved, two glasses, a bottle of champagne, two forks, and the top tier of Trent’s wedding cake. It was delicious.
“You know, it took her about a month to decide what flavors of cake she wanted,” Trent said between bites. They weren’t bothering with plates. The cake sat on its original platter between them on the blanket, the gorgeous detail in the white frosting visible in the moonlight. It was a German chocolate flavor with buttercream frosting, and Bree might’ve eaten the entire tier herself if Trent hadn’t been there, and she hadn’t already stuffed herself on chicken parmesan.
“It’s really good,” she assured him, taking another bite.
“It should be for what I paid for it,” he said with a chuckle. He took another bite, too, and then sat his fork down, clutching his stomach. “It’s very rich. In more ways than one.”
