Next In Line: A Cake Series Novel

by J. Bengtsson

  I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

  My ball rolled back out.

  “What the?” I protested.

  “Noah, were you paying attention?” Quinn asked. “Apparently, that’s how it’s done.”

  “That was a perfect shot, Quinn, and you know it.”

  “No, Mama, I don’t know it. If it had been perfect, it wouldn’t have come back out. Now try again.”

  I huffed, picking up my ball and placing it right in front of the opening. “I already took a stroke, so I’m starting here.”

  Quinn raised his brows but didn’t object to my cheating.

  I lined my ball up again and, using a firm easy stroke, shot it into the hole.

  A second later, it rolled back out. Holy shit. Someone was taking a page out of my playbook. I grabbed Quinn’s shirt and pulled him to me so I could whisper in his ear. “Someone is in there, rolling my ball back.”

  “Yeah, sure, Jess.”

  “No, I’m telling you—someone is hiding in there and sending the ball back out, just like I used to do.”

  He exhaled, then rolled his eyes. “Can you never just admit defeat? You suck at miniature golf. There. I said it.”

  “Fine. I’ll show you.”

  I lined my ball back up and shot it up into the castle for a third time. I waited. The ball didn’t roll out.

  Quinn smiled. “Will there be anything else?”

  Now I was totally confused. Tipping my head over the elevated ridge, I waited for my ball to drop from inside the castle onto the green below, but it never did.

  “What the heck?” I exclaimed. “Where’s my ball?”

  “Is that it?” Quinn asked.

  A clear ball, larger than a golf ball, rolled out of the castle and down the ramp, passing me right on by.

  Quinn watched it roll. “Aren’t you going to get it?”

  “I told you. Someone’s in there,” I said as I stomped over to the imposter ball and retrieved it. The plastic ball was heavy, and there was something inside. I shook it. “What is this?”

  Noah came skipping over. “Open it.”

  “I’m not going to open it. What if it explodes?”

  “What if it doesn’t?” Quinn asked.

  “Is that really a chance you want me to take?” I scoffed. “I’m just going to ask for a new ball.”

  “Give it to me.” Quinn swiped it from my hand. “I’ll open it.”

  Noah, standing off to the side, caught my attention. He was jumping in place, his smile a mile wide. What had gotten into him?

  I turned my attention back to Quinn, my eyes tracking down. He was on one knee, the plastic ball open… and so was the black box inside. A diamond ring sparkled against the velvet backdrop.

  “Let me try this again now that I’m not dying. Marry me, Getaway Girl.”

  38

  Epilogue One: Jess

  “Listen up, Angels, we’re now coming down Goldfinch Road, where more celebrities exist per capita than anywhere else in the world.”

  I waited for the oohs and ahhs. And they came. Oh yes, they came. Certain things never changed. The love of celebrities being one of them. Of course, I might have a different take on it now that I was married to one. But none of these people knew that. Whenever I climbed onto a bus, today or any day, I was just Jess. No one knew my last name was McKallister or that Quinn and I partly owned the tour company they were taking this ride on or that I’d once been the infamous Jesserella.

  A lot had changed for me in the three and a half years since meeting Quinn, but some things remained the same: like these tours that I ran a couple of times a week. Granted, I no longer needed the money, and I donated my tips to whatever driver was assigned to my tour. But I continued to climb onto the busses and take passengers for a ride because it was fun. It was cathartic. And it gave me a chance to meet people who made lasting impacts on my life, like old hard-of-hearing Lloyd. Without his out-of-the-blue prophecy, I might never have spent that day with Quinn and might never have experienced every fantastical thing that followed.

  “Whose house is that up there?” a passenger asked.

  I glanced out the window, seeing balloons and a big banner that read, ‘Happy Birthday, Jess.’

  My smile spread like wildfire. “That would be the McKallister house.”

  “Wait a minute,” another called from the back. “Isn’t that your name?”

  “Such a coincidence,” I replied.

  “Didn’t you say it was your birthday today?” the clever man in the bucket hat asked.

  “It is.” I nodded. “So weird, right?”

  And just as the words left my mouth, Quinn stepped out of the gate, holding our two-year-old daughter, Sadie. With her dark hair pulled up into wispy pigtails high up on her head and those dueling dimples of hers, Sadie had earned the nickname Boo from her daddy’s side of the family. As the current youngest grandchild, Sadie was arguably the most adored McKallister of the bunch. In fact, when she was visiting Grammie and Grampie at the ‘castle,’ as she called it, her feet rarely touched the ground.

  Noah stepped out of the gate, flinging his arm over Quinn’s shoulder and adding a tickle to Sadie’s neck. At thirteen years old, Noah was in that awkward stage of adolescence, but his long, skinny body and shiny row of braces did nothing to dampen his game—because he used Quinn to round the bases. Noah—bless him—had become an expert at pimping poor Quinn out for his own benefit by offering his stepdad up for school functions or impromptu backyard concerts to impress his other dentally disadvantaged friends.

  “That’s Quinn McKallister,” Tammy from row eight screamed.

  And just like an earlier Quinn sighting had done years before, the left side of the bus emptied onto the right side as sightseers craned to get a look at the man who warmed my bed at night. From my perch in the front, I could see him talking to Sadie, pointing out the bus, probably telling her I was on it as he urged her to wave. Those two. My god. They were heart-melting goodness.

  And as my little family waved, Delene hung a hard right, surprising us all. I looked to her. She winked as she pulled into the driveway.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just following orders. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with management.”

  “Uh, folks,” I said into the microphone. “I have no idea what’s happening here, but if I had to guess, I’d say we are all in for a really big treat, because see that hot rocker right there? That’s my husband. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned being married to him, it’s to expect the unexpected.”

  Delene opened the door, and Quinn sent Sadie up the steps with a birthday balloon.

  “Is that for me?” I asked, bending down to accept her gift before sweeping her into my arms and nuzzling her neck. “Thank you for my balloon, Boo.”

  Noah was next. Climbing the two stairs, he handed me a balloon and kissed my cheek. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

  “Thank you,” I said, attempting to give him a peck on the cheek, but he cowered away. Noah had entered the ‘Everything Mom does is horrifying’ stage of teendom. Quinn, being a famous musician and all, was still acceptable—for now.

  Once he’d completed his duty, Noah turned to Quinn. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes. Sorry for taking time out of your busy schedule of staring at your phone.”

  “That’s fine. Just try to be more considerate next time.” He chuckled, sidestepping Quinn on the stairs. Once he was through the security gates, I heard him yell, “Love you, Mom.”

  From his spot on the bottom step, Quinn said to me, “And just so you know, that small amount of interaction took an hour of negotiations, and I think I might have promised him that we’d invite some famous dancing TikToker to our house for dinner.”

  “Oh, well, that’s alarming.”

  He shrugged. “But you got your balloon, so that’s all that matters.”

  “I did.” I laughed.

  Quinn took the final step, handing me another b
alloon and kissing me. “Happy birthday, babe.”

  There was a collective sigh. I’d nearly forgotten about my passengers.

  “This is so sweet. Thank you. Now, take Sadie. I have to finish my tour.”

  “Not so fast,” Quinn said, producing another balloon from behind his back. He bent down and kissed my pregnant belly. “And one more. From Liam.”

  39

  Epilogue Two: Quinn

  I sat on the darkened stage, guitar in hand, my boots propped up on the bottom rung of the stool. A fluttering in my chest was the only indication of the monumental moment that was about to occur.

  Someday, you and me, we’re going to sing on the world stage together, and no one will ever forget our names.

  How many nights had I fallen asleep to Jake’s long-ago premonition? All my life I’d dreamed of this. Jake and me, side by side. We’d played together in the past, but never like this. Never as equals on a world stage.

  Jake lifted his eyes, settling on mine. I think he knew the significance of the moment as well as I did. In my mind, we’d been rivals from the start. But that might have been more wishful thinking than anything else. If I were Jake, looking down from his place of glory, would I have regarded me as anything more than a spastic bug avoiding a solid squishing by scurrying about in the cracks of the sidewalk? Probably not.

  But times had changed, and Jake had had a front row seat to the proceedings. He’d watched me rise. Show after show. Concert after sold-out concert. Slowly but surely, our names appeared side by side on awards shows and on the music charts, our songs playing back-to-back on the radio. There was no denying the distance I’d erased between us. Yes, Jake still existed on that top rung where the biggest and brightest got to shine, but so now did I. And like Jake, I was here to stay.

  My eyes still trained on my brother, I smiled. He tipped his head down, laughing absently to himself before looking back up at me through the strands of his shoulder-length hair. He nodded. It was a welcome of sorts, an acceptance that I’d earned my spot beside his throne.

  The lights went up. And we began to play.

  The End

  Bonus Scene

  Quinn (Six Years Old): The Promise

  I knew I wasn’t supposed to go in her room. Emma said no. She said Mommy was sleeping. But I was hungry… and Mommy was always sleeping. Before Jake went away, she didn’t sleep a lot. She was always awake before me so she could get me dressed and brush my hair and make me breakfast. I didn’t have to do anything back then. I just got out of bed, and Mommy did the rest. I liked it that way.

  Emma said Mommy wouldn’t sleep so much once Jake came home. But I didn’t know when that would be. I didn’t even know where he was. One day he just went away and police came and then everyone screamed and cried. Jake was bad to leave us like that and I didn’t like him anymore.

  “Mommy,” I whispered in her ear. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

  She didn’t say anything back. She didn’t even tell me to go away like she usually did.

  I touched her face. “Mommy, wake up.”

  She didn’t move.

  I lifted her eyelid to look inside. Her eyeball stared back but I don’t think she really saw me. My stomach growled louder.

  “I’m going to starve,” I told her. “Do you want me and Grace to starve?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Now I was mad. I kicked her bed. I pulled down her sheet. I flicked her bedside lamp on and off. But she still didn’t open her eyes.

  When was Jake coming home so Mommy would wake up?

  I stomped down the hall to my big sister, Emma. She told me not to bother her when she was doing homework… unless it was an emergency. Well, this was an emergency. I was starving.

  I poked her arm. “Emma?”

  She looked up from her book, saw me, and then her face got all sad. Since Jake left, Emma and Mommy stared at me weird. Sometimes they cried. I didn’t know why no one liked me anymore. This was all Jake’s fault. He left us and now everything was so bad. And I was hungry.

  “Emma?” I repeated.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Go ask Mom or Dad for food. I’m doing my homework.”

  “I can’t find Daddy, and Mommy is lying in bed. She won’t answer.”

  “She won’t answer?”

  My sister stood up real fast and then ran down the hall. I followed after her. I was a fast runner. One of the fastest in my class. Emma was already shouting at Mommy when I got to the room but at least that made her wake up. Maybe I needed to start being mean like Emma. Maybe then Mommy wouldn’t sleep when she was supposed to be awake.

  I was only sorta listening to Emma and Mommy fight. They did it a lot now and I didn’t like it. They were too loud. I put my hands to my ears but I could still hear them.

  “How many of these pills have you taken?”

  “Not enough.”

  “Mom, please. You’re not helping Jake like this. What if he comes home and finds you like this?”

  “You don’t get it, do you, Emma? He’s dead. Jake’s dead, and he’s never coming back.”

  The words got stuck in my ears. My legs went all wobbly and I fell against the wall.

  “Jake’s dead?” I screamed.

  Emma grabbed my hand and took me out of the room. “No, Quinn. No.”

  My bones shook and shook. How could he be dead? All his stuff was still in his room. I collapsed onto the carpet, burying my head into the soft bristles.

  “Jake’s dead?” I cried over and over.

  “Don’t listen to her, Quinn. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Jake is alive, and he’s going to come home.”

  “Why would Mommy say that? Where’s Jake?”

  Emma picked me off the floor and hugged me. She was a good sister and I let her hold me. I didn’t understand what was happening. Nobody said he was dead. They said he was gone. Not dead.

  I heard a noise and opened my eyes. My brother Kyle was there, leaning against his door. Since Jake left, something happened to Kyle. He looked like a monster. His eyes were red and he had a knife in his hand. I buried my head in Emma’s neck and cried. I didn’t want to see anything else. I didn’t like this family anymore. No one was like they used to be. And nobody cared.

  Emma carried me back to the sofa and sat me down next to Grace. I saw her go back to Mommy’s room. When was she going to make me some food?

  My little sister got to her knees and wiped my tears away with her blanket. She cared. I still liked Grace. And Emma. But none of the others.

  “Why are you crying?” Grace asked.

  “Because I hate them.”

  Grace’s eyes got all big. “You hate Mommy? And Daddy too?”

  I put my arm over her shoulder. “Nobody cares about us anymore, Grace. They want us to starve. But I won’t let that happen. I’ll take care of us. From now on, it’s just you and me.”

  Grace got all sad. “But I don’t want us to be all by ourselves. I want everyone to be smiling.”

  She didn’t understand. I had to make her see.

  “We can’t smile anymore, Grace, because Jake died.”

  Her lip was shaking. “What does that mean?”

  I leaned in and said, really quiet, “It means he’s a ghost.”

  Grace covered her mouth. So scared. I hugged her tighter. “Don’t worry. If he comes back, I won’t let him hurt us.”

  And I meant it. If Jake came back, I would kick him and punch him until he went away again. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need any of my family anymore. I was going to take care of myself… and Grace. And the first thing I was going to do was make lunch.

  Because I was hungry.

  Thank you for reading Quinn and Jess’s story. Is this is your first book in the Cake Series? If so, you need Jake and Casey and their epic love story in your life. Cake A Love Story

  Jake thinks he's put his past behind him. He thinks he's okay. It isn't until he meets Casey that he real
izes all he's been missing out on in life.

  One click now Cake A Love Story

  “The McKallister family believes in redemption.” - Quinn

  And no one has been more redeemed than Tucker Beckett. There is a reason why Quinn is Tucker’s only client and that reason can be found in Like The Wind. To learn more about Tucker Beckett and the AnyDayNow boys click here> Like The Wind—this is the story of a Harry Styles-type pop star caught in a California fire storm who stops just long enough to save a quirky hairdresser with a menagerie of pets.

  One Click Like the Wind Now!

  *Grace Note (Grace McKallister’s story) coming in 2022*

  Add Grace Note to your Goodreads TBR!

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  Turn page to meet the real Sketch Monsters>

  Meet the Real Sketch Monsters

  Fun Fact! Sketch Monsters was a real 80s metal band.

  Sketch Monsters was the brainchild of my brother Mike, who played in a number of metal bands growing up in Eureka, California, including Addiction, Sketch Monsters, and ‘the shittiest band in town,’ Defecation. It is true that my mother was so embarrassed by the band name Defecation that she told anyone who asked that the name of Mike’s band was Def Vacation.

  It is also true that the way Jess came about the name ‘Sketch Monsters’ is an accurate depiction of how Mike and his equally inebriated buddies first discovered the imaginary creatures amongst the redwood trees in Humboldt County.