Newsflash, it wasn’t.

He went to North Beach and idled on a quiet street in front of a small Victorian home. He and Rocco had grown up in that house. Their mom had died when Diego was a baby, and he didn’t remember anything about her, which he’d long ago convinced himself was for the best. His earliest memory was of being five years old and climbing the tree in the front yard after his dad had told him not to. Not ten minutes later, he’d fallen out of the tree and broken his arm.

But even remembering the sickening pain of having the bones reset hadn’t taught him to listen to his dad.

He’d been twelve when he snuck out with some pilfered booze and ended up in the garage with the fifteen-year-old, much wiser twin girls from next door. His dad had beaten the shit out of him for that one, but even that couldn’t take away the smile and experience that garage visit had given him.

By fifteen, Diego had pretty much run wild and free. He’d landed in trouble at school with grades and other things, and he’d been given a choice—be expelled, or straighten up and turn his shit around. Fast.

So, he’d tried to turn his shit around.

His dad had arranged for tutoring, and his life had been forever changed by the sweetest, kindest girl he’d ever met.

Daisy.

As it happened, she’d had it just as rough growing up as he had, only she wasn’t constantly toeing the line—or worse, trying to obliterate it. She just quietly and unassumingly took in everything she could to make sure that she had the tools she needed to make it out.

And she’d done just that, leaving him behind. And with some dubious maturity, he couldn’t even be mad. He was proud of her. Proud as hell.

But, damn. He still missed her.

* * * *

The next morning, Diego parked Wes’s bike in the bakery lot. Bracing himself for another battle, he strode inside for the dreaded cake tasting. He was right on time, which was why he was surprised to find the place empty.

The door opened behind him, and he knew without even turning around who the clicking heels belonged to.

Daisy came up to his side and eyed the empty place. “Huh,” she said and pulled out her phone to check the time. “Huh,” she said again.

“Maybe Rocco and Tyler eloped,” he said hopefully.

She snorted and muttered something beneath her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I couldn’t possibly have gotten that lucky.”

“Hey,” he said, turning to her. “I’m a delight.”

She managed to keep a straight face for a full second before she laughed.

And while he wanted to be annoyed as hell, he couldn’t. Because…her laugh. It was like fresh grass after the rain. A wide-open road late at night with a full tank of gas and a full moon. It was both Heaven and Hell. Because, damn. He didn’t want to be moved by her laugh. He didn’t want to be moved by her at all.