“You beautiful, brilliant, wonderful woman,” Thomas whispered, eyes going wide as he stuck his finger in the closest cake and tasted the frosting. I shook my head. He had the manners of an alley cat and the disposition of a child. “My God. Is that espresso frosting? I’ve never—” He inspected me in that Cresswell way of his. “Your creation?” “It was just an idea—I know how much you favor coffee, and it goes so well with chocolate…”
