Take the Cake (30 page)

“I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all,” he replied, chinking his glass against hers. “So,” he continued after they had sipped their wine, “what do you think he’s doing now?”

“Actually, I’m not sure. We had talked about going to the market, but I’m not sure he’ll do that now. Maybe he’ll do some work.”

“Sounds boring.” Tom pulled a face. “Why don’t you give him a call? Judging by the way he was looking at you earlier, I’m sure he’ll come a-runnin’.”

~~~

Michael had set a good pace for his jog, but the more he thought about Alistair and Tom, the angrier he got. He picked up the pace, running faster now.

Alistair had upset Kate, Tom had been an insulting prick, and here he was running laps in a damn park because he had wimped out of the equation. Furious at himself, he ran faster still, ignoring the pain as his muscles and lungs began to burn.

Two circuits later he saw the park entrance in the distance and began to slow his pace. By the time he stopped, he was gasping for breath. He bent over double with his hands braced on his knees, gulping down air and trying not to throw up. He felt like shit. After a long time, he felt able to stand up without passing out. He limped over to a nearby bench and did some cool-down stretches. He wondered what Kate was doing, and fumbled in his pocket for his phone, quickly realizing he didn’t have it. He cursed under his breath as he left the park, resolving to call her as soon as he got home.

He needed to see his girl, and then he’d feel a lot better.

~~~

“Voicemail,” Kate announced, putting her phone down on the table. “He’s either busy or he’s gone out and forgotten it.”

Tom put a hand over his heart. “Is such a thing even possible?”

Kate gave him an amused look. “Yes, it’s true—there are people out there that can actually function without a cell phone.”

“Next you’ll be telling me there isn’t a Santa,” Tom protested.

“He’ll call when he gets back to his phone,” Kate said, ignoring Tom as she shot her phone another glance. She hoped he was okay. She groaned and put her head in her hands. “Crap, shit, fu—”

“Whoa there,” Tom said. “What brought that on?

“I’ve just realized,” Kate groaned, her head in her hands, “I only just told Michael about our history this morning.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And then we show up at the store and you’re there acting like …” Kate glanced at Tom, who had enough self-preservation to look chastened. “…the way you did. And then he leaves and I take off with you. How does that look?”

Tom considered that. “Hate to say it, kiddo, but not good.”

Kate gave him a solemn nod. “Not good at all.”

“So, it’s getting serious?”

“Think so,” Kate confirmed, sipping at a Coke. The wine had proved too much and she had moved onto something soft, much to Tom’s disgust.

“Well, that’s good. So long as he treats you right, I promise to be on my best behavior.” Tom nodded. “Think he’ll put a ring on your finger?”

Kate laughed, and then jumped as her phone rang. “Well, my phone is ringing; does that count?” She snatched it up and smiled when she saw Michael’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” she greeted in a soft voice.

“How’s my girl?” Michael asked, his heart in his throat. Although the walk home had cooled him down from his run, his pulse was jumping.

“All good,” Kate answered, “but I miss you. What are you doing?”

“I went out for a run and forgot my phone,” he admitted, smiling when he heard her gurgle of laughter.

“I told Tom that’s what must’ve happened. How are you feeling now? Do you want a recovery drink?”

“That sounds good. Where are you?” Michael nodded when she told him the name of the bar. “No problem. Give me time to shower and change, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Promise?”

“I’m on my way,” Michael said. “And Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I’m sure. It’s all good, you’ll see.”

“See you soon,” Michael promised, and was still grinning when they hung up. He loped toward the bathroom.

Kate snapped her phone shut and beamed at Tom. “He’s on his way.”

“He’d be crazy not to,” Tom said.

~~~

Michael paused in the doorway, looking for Kate as his eyes adjusted to the light. He’d showered and changed in record time, sprinting down the stairs and into the first taxi he saw.

Tom saw him first and nearly choked on his next mouthful of wine. He had been so ready to dislike him at the store that he hadn’t paid him any attention. Now that he and Kate had cleared the air, he was feeling slightly drunk and quite at ease with the world.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure he’s straight? Because if there’s any margin for error at all, I’m
so
there.”

Kate twisted in her chair and waved when she saw Michael. Glancing back over her shoulder, she shot Tom a smug smile.

“Figures.” Tom watched as Michael’s face lit up with a grin when he saw Kate and strode through the crowd toward them. It didn’t escape Tom’s notice that a couple of other bar patrons had noticed Michael as well. Michael was oblivious to all of this as he made a beeline for where Kate was waiting, bending down to kiss her cheek as he grabbed a vacant chair and took a seat.

Michael’s smile dimmed to wary courtesy as he nodded at Tom. “Hello again.”

“Be nice,” Kate warned Tom in an undertone as he extended a hand toward Michael.

“Michael, I believe you met my evil bitch twin earlier. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Tom,” he said with a smile that was equally cautious.

“Evil twin, huh?” Michael’s lips curled into a more genuine smile this time.

“You’d be amazed how much he gets around,” Tom said with a solemn nod.

Kate sniffed the air, found it was friendly, and was pleased. As Tom and Michael fell into conversation, she smiled into her glass. She sat back in her seat, smiling when Michael unconsciously moved his seat closer so that he could drape his arm around her shoulders. A waiter approached their table to take Michael’s drink order, and while he was occupying himself with the menu, Tom caught Kate’s eye and winked. Kate felt as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. It was still early days, but the initial steps had been taken.

“So, Michael,” Tom was saying, “I know Kate and I have cleared the air, but there’s just one thing I have to say to you before we move on and put all this behind us.”

“I’m listening.” Michael nodded.

“Hurt her, and I will beat you to death with one of her industrial baking trays,” Thomas said in a matter of fact tone. Michael looked at him in askance, and he shrugged. “A vague disclaimer is no one’s friend.”

“It won’t happen,” Michael said in a firm voice. “I know what I want.”

Tom gave an imperceptible flinch at the obvious barb in Michael’s answer, before swallowing hard and holding up his glass in a toast. “I believe you,” he said at last.

Kate looked at Michael, who simply leaned forward and kissed her.

“So do I,” she answered.

Kate watched as the two men took the first tentative steps of friendship toward each other. Wariness was evident on both sides, but for the time being, any animosity or insecurity was put aside for the sake of the woman that sat between them.

“All good?” Tom asked Kate in a quiet voice when Michael went to the bar. She looked up to see Tom watching her with caution.

“All good.”

“You look happy with this guy,” he said after a pause. “He seems to really care about you.”

“I hope so,” Kate said, glancing over to where Michael stood at the bar.

“As long as he treats you right, I won’t interfere,” Thomas offered. “But I can’t say I’m not jealous as hell.”

Kate felt something in her chest relax at last. It felt as if the worst had been confronted and dealt with and now she could move on.

Chapter 18

Procrastination and Pizza

Wren kept her head down and focused on her footsteps, making a game of not stepping on any cracks in the pavement. Next she amused herself by counting dogs and seeing how many businessmen were wearing colorful ties. Fishing in her bag, she sighed as her hands came up empty, and crossed to the other side of the street as she saw the familiar booth ahead.

“Hey, Betty,” Wren greeted the elderly woman as she approached the newsstand.

“Hey, yourself,” Betty replied with a gimlet smile. “I suppose you’re after the usual.”

“You know it.” Wren nodded, digging out some bills from her wallet as Betty slid a copy of
InStyle
magazine and a pack of gum toward her.

“Good weekend?” Betty made conversation as she dug out some coins.

“Not bad.” Wren shrugged.

“And that young man of yours, how’s that going?” Betty slapped the change into Wren’s outstretched hand and leaned her hip against the counter.

“Who told you?” Wren gave her a look of amazement.

“No one had to.” Betty winked. “But that’s some love bite you’ve got on your neck there, kid.”

Wren slapped a hand to her neck and moaned.

“Other side,” Betty cackled, enjoying the younger woman’s mortification as Wren switched her hand to the other side of her neck, and then gave it up as a lost cause. “Looks like you’ve been having a good time.”

“I guess so,” Wren replied as she stuffed the magazine into her tote bag and unwrapped the gum to pop a piece into her mouth.

“You
guess
so?” Betty shook her head. “Damn girl, youth is wasted on the young.” She folded her arms and rested them on a pile of
Newsweek
. “What’s he like?”

Wren thought for a moment. “Persistent.”

“He’d have to be,” Betty observed. “You’re like a fart in a bottle.”

Wren arched an eyebrow at that. She’d been called many things in the past, but this was a new one.

“You like him?” Betty asked as she served another customer.

Wren nodded, keeping her chin close to her chest. She was loitering now and feeling like a kid being called out at school, but Betty’s calm assessment and no-nonsense questions made her feel curiously better.

“I didn’t hear you,” Betty said, and then, “Not you. Four fifty,” to another customer.

“Yes,” Wren said in a louder voice.

“Good.” Betty nodded. “Then get off your bony ass and do something about it.”

“I have,” the younger woman protested.

“I don’t mean sex.” Betty waved a dismissive hand. “Although Lord knows it gets the job done. Men are like linoleum, lay them right the first time and you can walk all over them for the rest of your life,
but,
” she went on as Wren laughed, “you need someone that’ll treat you with respect, keep you on your toes and give you the best sex you’ve ever had.”

“Oh, well, when you put it that way, it sounds almost too easy.” Wren snorted.

“So what does he do, this young man of yours?” Betty ignored Wren’s easy dismissal.

“He’s a teacher at NYU,” Wren replied. Then at Betty’s silent prompt for more information she added, “Specializing in American history.”

“So he’s smart then?”

“Oh, yeah,” Wren said, remembering their latest argument about consumerism.

“And passionate,” the older woman went on. Wren sighed and nodded. She was never going to live the love bite down.

“Like you’re smart,” Betty mused, “and I’m guessing you can more than stand your ground in the sack.”

“Betty.” Wren coughed back a shocked laugh.

“Relax, kid.” Betty laughed. “When you’ve chalked up as many years as I have, it gives you a certain level of free speech.” She considered Wren for a long moment. “How long you been scared of this guy?”

“Who said I was scared?”

“You’re not exactly standing here in the flush of new love. What is it you want?”

Wren sighed, feeling incredibly weary of the whole situation. “I wish I knew.”

Betty shook her head slowly and slid another pack of gum toward Wren. “You’d better make up your mind, because guys like him don’t grow on trees. If there’s one thing we women are good at, it’s looking a gift horse in the mouth. You’re being treated with respect and kindness when you’re used to being used and abused, and that’s got you scared. You know what my mom used to tell me when I was dithering over my Earl?”

“What?” Wren stepped closer as the older woman beckoned, and then her eyes widened as Betty muttered to her in an undertone. Passing customers glanced up at the laughter, some of them wondering how such a small woman could laugh so loud.

Bidding her a fond farewell, Wren made her way to work with a broad grin on her face. Betty had given her the makings of a great quote, and she couldn’t wait to see how Kate was going to come up with a cupcake for this one.

~~~

“Morning, Wren.” Kate smiled, her cheeks pink from her morning walk. The seasons were starting to turn and the air was getting cooler.

“Morning, boss.”

“Wren, don’t call me boss.”

“Sorry, boss.”

“Good weekend?” Kate asked as she pushed the front door open and went inside.

“Not bad,” Wren called over her shoulder, carrying her bag in one hand as she shrugged off her coat. “Yours?” She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to stare at the new installation. “Oh, wow,” she gasped. “They look fantastic.”

“Don’t they,” Kate agreed with a pleased smile.

“When?” Wren asked as she crossed the floor to run a hand along the polished copper piping. Paul had done a great job; his craftsmanship and attention to detail had done the store proud.

“Sunday,” Kate replied, looking pleased with Wren’s reaction, and then she looked closer at Wren and gave her a knowing smile. “Good weekend?”

“Great,” Wren replied, putting her coat and bag away before stopping to gather up an armful of magazines.

“And how’s David?” Kate said in a too-innocent tone.

“He’s good,” Wren said casually.

“So I see,” Kate replied as she filled the jug with milk and kicked the refrigerator door closed with her foot.

“What?” Wren looked at her, puzzled, and then reached up to touch the love bite on her neck. “I knew I should’ve worn a scarf,” she groused.

“Right, because that would be so subtle,” Kate teased. “When did the two of you hook up?”

“Saturday,” Wren allowed, dumping the pile of magazines on the counter and leaning against it as Kate went to work on the coffees.

“Morning, guys. Wren, you’ve got a love bite on your neck,” Emily called as she walked through the store, past the counter and into the kitchen.

“Everyone has to know?” Wren protested as Kate laughed.

“Honey, it’s right there where we can all see it.” Emily reappeared, tying on her apron.

“Just because you two haven’t got any,” Wren mumbled in mock anger at the two smirking women.

“That you can see,” Kate rejoined, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

“How about you, Emily? Anything to report about Bookstore Brad?” Wren studied her closely.

“Uh …” Emily’s face began to warm beneath their scrutiny. “Well, that is to say …” She waved a hand, aware that her face was getting warmer by the moment.

“His place or yours?” Wren asked matter-of-factly.

“His,” Emily replied promptly and then gazed at her in horror when she realized what she’d let slip.

“Ah-
ha
,” Wren said. “I
knew
you two would get together.” She looked from Kate to Emily. “So how about that? All three of us are getting laid.”

The three women looked at each other for a moment, before laughing and exchanging high-fives.

“We should all get together and have a drink after work sometime,” Emily suggested. “I know that Brad would love to meet Michael, but not,” she added hastily, “in a groupie kind of way.”

“Michael and David go way back, so they’ll be fine, and David seems to get a kick out of meeting new people all the time,” Wren speculated. “How about it, boss?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kate nodded.

“Maybe you could give Paul a call as well,” Wren suggested, “and how about Tom? Do you think he can share you for a change?” She was taken aback when Kate pulled a face.

“Early days,” Kate cautioned, “but he has agreed to play nice for now.”

Wren gaped at her. “They’ve
met?”

“Yup.” Kate finished making the coffees and carefully moved the cups across the counter. Emily was stacking the last of the magazines onto their new rack, but Wren swooped onto her cup with all the reverence it deserved.

“Ahh.” Wren nodded sagely after her first sip. “And how did that go?”

Kate concentrated on stirring some sugar into her cup. “About as well as could be expected.”

“Ouch.” Wren winced. “Was Tom up to his old tricks?” Wren had seen Tom give prospective beaus the cold shoulder in the past to devastating effect. She had wondered why Kate put up with it, but had rationalized that she did not know the secrets of the friendship between the two. “How did Michael take it?”

“Okay, I guess, but it was a lot for him to take in. Things ended up well enough.” She smiled at this as she remembered the night before.

It had been late in the afternoon when Michael and Kate arrived back at her apartment. Kate had slung her bag onto a chair and sprawled on the couch. After a moment’s hesitation, Michael had followed. Kate had smiled at his approach and curled her legs up to allow him room, and then shifted around to snuggle up against him with a small sigh, fisting her hands in his shirt to bring herself closer still. Michael had stretched out his legs to rest his feet on the coffee table, and put his arm around her shoulders, combing his fingers absently through Kate’s hair as he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Big day,” he’d said at last. Kate’s eyes had been closed and Michael’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest.

“You could say that,” Kate had sighed. She’d rested her head against Michael’s chest and traced the pattern of his T-shirt with a lazy finger. He’d dropped a kiss onto her forehead, and then gave a sigh of contentment as he’d rested his head against hers. Running his hand in calming circles on Kate’s arm, on impulse, he’d run his hand down her side and up under the hem of her T-shirt. Encouraged by her quiet hum of pleasure, he’d shifted slightly and kept stroking her skin, his fingers circling and becoming more insistent as her skin flushed under his touch.

Kate had reached up to pull his head down to hers, her breathing becoming shallow. Michael had kissed her lightly once, and then returned for more. His hands shifting to her hips, he’d moved her along the couch so that he could rest himself between her legs as he’d urged them open. Kate had needed no prompting, flushed now, very warm. Pushing up the base of her T-shirt, Michael had pressed a soft kiss against the flat plane of her belly.

“Michael, please …”

“I know.” He’d bent his head to her skin again. Sitting up, he’d reached out to smooth a strand of hair off her face while she’d watched him.

Kate had hardly moved, hardly breathed.
What did he see?
she’d wondered.
Did he see a character for his book, was he fantasizing about someone else, did he see her?
Again she’d found herself wondering what it was she had to offer. She had given all she had to Thomas, which turned out to be not nearly enough. The pain of that was receding as time went by, although in her lonelier moments, she found that the scar was still fresh. Since then she had worked to shroud herself in her bakery, in her friendships and independence to bury her fear that she would only ever be perceived as a means to an end. She wanted to be the destination and not the journey. She wanted to be loved and adored.

“You are so beautiful,” Michael had muttered. His insecurities from the afternoon had come flooding back. “Kate, tell me what you want. What can I do to make you mine?”

Her only answer had been to pull him down for another kiss before struggling off the couch and leading him to the bed.

“Earth calling Kate …”

Kate blinked and looked up to see Wren regarding her with her head cocked to one side.

“Are you okay, boss?”

“Sure.” Kate remembered to smile as she pulled a waiting cup toward her and poured in the milk. “I was a million miles away.”

“So you were saying the evening ended well enough, but does that mean things got off to a shaky start?”

“Yup.” Kate nodded.

“How about Paul?”

Kate’s face softened as she thought about her big brother. “Bear was wonderful. He took to Michael straight away and then gave Tom and me a verbal spanking and kicked us out of the store to go have a talk.”

“Hang on, I’m confused. Where was Michael?”

“He took off to let Tom and me sort things out,” Kate clarified.

“As in, he chickened out?” Wren frowned. That didn’t sound like the Michael she knew.

“Not at all. He just wanted to give us some space, but I don’t think he was too happy about it.”

“You’ve lost me again. What was Tom doing here?” Wren sipped at her coffee, trying to process what Kate was telling her.

“Sorry, I’m all over the place. Bear wanted to get the job done quickly, so he called Tom to give him a hand. Michael and I were out having brunch and decided to stop in to see how it was all going and …” She waved a hand. “Michael was polite, Tom was a total bitch,” Kate began and then paused to sip at her coffee, winking as Emily came in to take her cup. “And then Tom and I went to have a long talk, and Michael tried to kill himself jogging.”

“I hate coming in at the tail end of a conversation,” Emily commented as she strolled up to the counter, making the other two women laugh.

“The boss was just giving me a summary of her weekend,” Wren explained.

“Which included gay men and death by jogging,” Emily said, still looking none the wiser.

“Kate’s main men met each other over the weekend,” Wren explained. “Bear was fantastic as always, Tom was the bitch queen from hell, and Michael was the shy, retiring type.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say
shy
,” Kate mused, thinking back to how Michael managed to put Tom in his place and stake his claim on her at the same time. “He’s a man that knows what he wants.”