My brother pushes it back to me, shaking his head. “I don’t need cupcakes, Pippa.” His voice is stern as he focuses on the menu board behind me. It’s not like he’s been at Wake and Bake a thousand times. He knows any food or beverage item you could order from here, yet his focus is on it instead of me. I’d worry he was still mad at me for almost losing Rebel last week, but I know we moved past it after talking about it at a family dinner since then. He was upset because something could’ve happened to Rebel, but I think it was mostly because he was worried something could’ve happened to me.
The horse didn’t hurt me, but Camden’s actions on that mountain did, no matter how much I don’t want to admit it.
I shake my head, looking at my brother with a wary look, remembering why I made the cupcakes to begin with. “You absolutely need cupcakes. Why do you think Dad sent you here?”
This gets his attention. He furrows his eyebrows. “How’d you know Dad sent me?”
I laugh, looking around the empty coffee shop. We’ve been unusually slow today, so slow that I told Lexi she could go home and I’d close alone tonight. We technically closed five minutes ago, but Cade walked in looking like a lost puppy right before I went to lock the doors. “Because he said you needed a pick-me-up and asked if I happened to have some of your favorite cupcakes. Actually, he pretty much begged for me to make some even if I didn’t because you’ve been so miserable lately.”
Cade groans, grabbing the hat from his head and running his hands through his hair. “Dad has noticed? Fuck, he shouldn’t be worried about me. I don’t want to add more to his plate. He’s already missing Mom and trying to get everything in order for winter. I hate that he’s noticed that I’m really missing Mare lately.”
“Let Dad worry about you.” I try to keep my tone gentle as I run my hand along my brother’s arm. “It helps him not focus on the fact we’re getting close to Mom’s birthday.” I don’t mention that it’s getting closer to mine, too.
“Maybe I will have a cupcake,” Cade mutters. His voice is sad. So sad that I almost call my best friend and tell her to get her ass back to Sutten. She’s got to be almost done writing this book at this point, and how many more meetings could one author have? All I know is that one way or another, my brother can’t take being away from her much longer. He’s different than he used to be, and even though I know they’re still trying to figure things out, it’s time they’re reunited.
Or I’m going to have to double the amount of blueberry lemon cupcakes I’m making.
Lifting the lid of the pastry box, I grab a cupcake and hand it over to him. He gladly takes it, delicately peeling the liner away from the cake before eating half of it with one large bite.
We walk over to a small sitting area with a baby pink, velvet couch. He sits down, letting out a long sigh. “Tell me what’s new with you, Pip.”
I rest my cheek in my palm, happy to have my brother present, at least for a little bit. Things have been a little off with us since Mom died. Probably because we both grieve very differently. He leaned on Mare; I leaned on working and trying to keep Dad going. But Cade and I have always been close, so I’m relieved for things to go back to how they used to be, at least for a moment.
We spend a long time chatting about life. It feels good to talk to my brother again. To feel close to him. He updates me on how the ranch is doing, how he thinks Dad is doing, and how he and Mare are taking it day by day.
“I know Mom would be happy to see the two of you figuring it out,” I tell him softly, taking the last sip of my coffee I’d made an hour ago. After Cade yawned for the fourth time in a ten-minute period, I figured he could use the evening pick-me-up. Hopefully, when he leaves here, he goes home to go to bed instead of trying to get more work done.
“You think?” His voice catches slightly.
I nod. “Yeah.” Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around my brother and hug him. His body goes lax, his arms wrapping around me as we stay in the embrace for a moment. His arms shake slightly, making me wonder how much stress and sadness he’s hiding underneath his tough exterior.
“I think you should go home and sleep,” I coax, pulling away.
He yawns again as if his body agrees with me. “Maybe I will. After I talk to Mare, of course.”
I laugh. Even in college, she was always on a totally different schedule than me. I thrive on an early bedtime and waking up before everyone else in the morning. She was the opposite. Mare would sleep all day and work on homework all night, something that was hard to juggle when we were both on completely opposite schedules. We made it work, but I find it funny that even all these years later, she’s still working through the night, while I prefer crawling into bed by nine.