5
Holt strode into the rental house he shared with Jonah, Brax on his heels. He had his orders, and they were many, but he intended to execute them without a hitch because Cayla deserved nothing less.
Jonah emerged from the kitchen, a Coke in his hand. “You’re back.”
“They’re getting married.” Brax blurted the news with all the enthusiasm of a rich housewife spilling the tea.
Jonah’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, what now?”
Holt grunted an acknowledgment. “Everything go all right after Brax left?”
“The bakery is fine. I sold every crumb, save for the last two apple cinnamon oatmeal bars because I got hungry. Don’t be avoiding the subject. Married?”
“Married,” Brax confirmed, his tone full of delight and metaphorical popcorn. “The real deal.”
Giving them both up as lost causes, Holt
