Take the Cake (20 page)

“Sure,” Alistair agreed. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Michael hung up and set the handset back in its cradle before strolling over to his desk and switching on the laptop. He’d work for a couple of hours, and then go see Kate. As it powered up, he headed toward the bathroom for a shower, making a deal with himself as he began to peel off his sweaty clothes. He’d clean up and then do some work.

Hours later he gave his laptop a light shove as he got up and pushed his chair out from the desk. He’d made enough of a start for today, and it was looking good. Getting up, he walked the length of the room, stopping to look out one of the tall windows, watching the people and traffic below. He glanced at his watch. It was already early afternoon, although he’d known that from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he stood and stared down at the hardwood floor, lost in thought. His writing was going well, and if he was going to be honest, it was one of the more pleasurable writing experiences he’d had of late. He ran his hand through his hair, and then with a grimace, headed toward the phone to make a long overdue call.

He’d left it until the last minute as usual, but luck was on his side. A short cab ride later, Michael took a seat in the salon and waited, picking up an outdated magazine and discarding it almost straight away when he saw a copy of
The New York Chronicle:
David’s newspaper, at least for the time being anyway. He picked it up and rifled through the pages until he found the music and review section. Scanning the pages, he stopped when he saw the familiar by-line and began to read, smiling here and there at David’s witty turn of phrase.

He envied his friend’s light touch with words, the way his deadlines came and went on a daily basis, the way David could write something and have it go to print that day without spending slavish hours over it all. His name was called, and he looked up and gave a nod, then stood and set the newspaper aside.

~~~

“Hey, boss,” Wren said. “Tall and handsome heading your way.”

Kate looked up with a smile, and her mouth dropped in an “oh” of surprise. “Wow,” she said at last, “you look different.”

Michael’s striking auburn hair was nearly all gone. The scruffy curls he had run his hands through impatiently of late had been cut short. It may have been carefully styled when he left the barber, but the combination of wind and his own nervous habit had ruffled it up considerably. It stuck up in spikes and clumps that looked chaotic and endearing all at once.

“Oh, yeah.” He gave a self-conscious laugh. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a haircut and I was getting scruffy, so I thought I’d better get myself looking decent.”

“Fuck,” Wren muttered. “If that was him looking scruffy, how good does he look when he makes an effort?”

“I hear ya, sister,” Emily said in a fervent undertone.

“I’m back ahead of schedule, but I’ve managed to leave my phone at home, so I wanted to drop by and see if I could walk you home tonight.”

“I think I’d like that,” Kate replied, folding her arms on the counter and leaning over toward him. “In fact, I know I would.” She watched him smile, and wondered again how Wren thought she was giving out mixed signals.

“That’s good to know. So it’s a date then.” He grinned.

“Sounds like. I’ll see you at closing time.” She smiled.

He turned to go, and then hesitated and turned back. His gaze dropped to her lips, and then he looked at her with a shy smile. “One for the road?”

Kate gave him a lazy grin. “C’mere,” she invited. Michael walked up to the counter and, bracing his hands on it, lifted himself up so that he could lean over and kiss her. When they parted seconds later, Kate could already feel the warmth beginning low in her belly. Michael gave her a heart-stopping smile and left the store. Kate watched him go, thinking that it was going to be a long afternoon.

Chapter 13

Argon and Shiraz

“I think she’s seen the light,” Wren commented to Emily.

“How so?” Emily was stacking plates on one of the shelves behind the counter. It was approaching closing time, and they were going through the usual late afternoon ritual.

“You saw her at lunchtime with Michael?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“I called her out on her behavior,” Wren replied. “All that flirtation-and-retreat thing she’s got going on.” She snapped the lid closed on a container and put it back into the refrigerator.

“Which would be different
how
, exactly, from what you do yourself?” Emily said, shooting a look at Wren who looked up in surprise.

“Me? What are you talking about?”

“I see you, Wren. You’re the original femme fatale when you think you’ve got the upper hand, but Mr. Wonderful has put you on the defensive and you’ve got no idea what the hell you’re going to do about it.” Emily slid the last plate onto the pile and turned to face the smaller woman, leaning against the counter with one hand on her hip.

Wren stared back at Emily, momentarily speechless, which told Emily that she had hit her mark.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” Wren managed at last.

“Hey, you’re not the only one keeping an eye on what’s going on.” Emily shrugged. “I just can’t help but notice that you’re happy to call Kate out on her behavior, but I’m the one that you’ve confided in about your date.”

“It wasn’t a date.” Wren was quick to object. “And anyway, you’re the one that spotted us; Kate didn’t.”

“Whatever,” Emily said. “But you’re confiding in different people about different things and stepping in when you think it’s needed. When are you going to let people look out for you for a change?”

“Huh?” Wren was confused.

“Honey.” Emily moved closer and slung an arm around her friend’s shoulders to take the sting out of her words. “You’re always pushing us into the spotlight, but staying behind the scenes as much as you can for yourself. When do you think you’ll decide to step out and have a go yourself?”

“I don’t push everyone,” Wren replied, but the denial sounded weak even to her ears.

“Don’t think I didn’t miss that my bookstore guy just happened to have one of our specials when I saw him last Friday. What was that mystery errand you popped out for that afternoon?”

Wren stayed silent, but a slight upward curl of her lips admitted her guilt.

“You know we love you, but sooner or later you’re going to have to take a chance.”

“Take a chance on what?” Wren asked.

“On yourself,” Emily said, tweaking Wren’s nose before turning back to the final tasks of the day.

Wren watched her for a moment, and then slowly went back to work, mulling over Emily’s words.

Kate had finished counting the day’s takings and bundled bills that she added to the zip-up bag. Bending over, she flicked the combination on the concealed safe and added the bag, before closing the door and turning the lock again. She opened the cupboard and pulled out her bag and then gathered up the paperwork that she would need to work on that evening. It was time to complete her monthly order for ingredients, and she found it quicker to do it online at home rather than fuss about with the paperwork too much in the store. Besides, the task always seemed that much more bearable when it was accompanied by a nice glass of wine.

She headed out into the front of the store to see Wren and Emily were nearly done. The floor had been swept, the tables wiped down, and now they were just finishing stacking the freshly washed cups and plates.

“You guys nearly ready to go?” she asked as she set the order book on the counter.

“You sound pretty eager,” Emily teased. “Could it be because you’re expecting a certain someone?”

Kate groaned. She was going to have to accept the teasing as one of the perils of dating in front of an attentive audience. “Is it that obvious?”

“We’re just happy for you,” Emily clarified. “Besides, it’s really exciting, isn’t it?”

Kate cocked her head. “Is something going on with you as well?”

“There might be,” Emily conceded with a modest nod. “Bookstore guy and I are going to a movie later this week.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Wren accused.

“Didn’t I?” Emily gave her a wide-eyed look. “Gosh, I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, right,” Wren groused and then brightened. “So who asked who on the date?”

“He did,” Emily answered. “But try not to congratulate yourself too much.”

“Am I missing something?” Kate asked, giving the two of them a curious look.

“Nope, we’re going to head off in a few, though, and leave the coast clear for you-know-who,” Wren said.

“Uh-huh,” Kate replied, giving them a curious look as the two women exchanged a conspiratorial grin and quickly finished their jobs before getting their bags. She waved them off and had just gotten back to her paperwork when she heard the girls exchanging greetings with Michael outside the store. True to his word, he’d arrived to walk her home.

“I won’t be long,” she said as he approached. “I’ve just got to finish up a couple of things and then we can go.”

“No rush,” he said easily.

Her eyes crinkled in a smile before she bent back to her task, working her way quickly through the list, her pen flicking across the check boxes as she scribbled quantities. Michael folded his arms and leaned over the counter, watching her in silence as she worked, noting the line of concentration that appeared between her brows.

Looking up, she hesitated and then reached over with a smile to brush her fingers over the tips of the shortened spikes of hair on his head. “This is going to take some getting used to,” she commented.

“You don’t like?” Michael asked.

“It’s great. I just haven’t seen you with short hair before is all,” she answered. She turned her attention back to her paperwork. She registered Michael shifting away from the counter, but wanted to get her last task done before she could relax for the night. A moment later, she felt the warmth of him as he stood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

A shiver of delight rippled through her as he spoke, his breath sending warm puffs of air against her cheek.

“Do you think you could get used to it?” he asked, nuzzling against her neck.

“I’ll try,” she answered. She had intended to sound teasing, but the feel of him against her had the words coming out as a croak.

Michael began to kiss the side of her neck, something he’d wanted to do all day. “How about now?”

“Getting there,” Kate replied, closing her eyes and swallowing hard before looking at the paperwork again as she tried to focus.

“How’s the paperwork going?” Michael said, peering over her shoulder at the sheet of paper, and then kissing her cheek.

“I’d, uh …” Kate stopped and cleared her throat. “I’d say it’s coming on nicely.” She felt his smile against her skin.

“You’re talking about the paperwork, right?”

“I thought I was.” She laughed. “But I could be mistaken.”

Michael wrapped his arms around her waist, offering nothing more than support while she finished. Kate blinked at the page, realizing that she had been staring sightlessly at it, and then gave up. She folded up the pages and stuffed them into her bag. As long as Michael was providing that level of distraction, there was no way she was going to be able to think straight.

The two of them had fallen into an easy physical intimacy that was growing by the day. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted him, and the suggestion of hardness behind her before he shifted his hips away told her that he felt the same.

She gathered up her bag and turned in Michael’s arms to face him. “Shall we?”

“I was thinking we could stop in at a wine bar or something on the way home for an after work drink,” he suggested.

“That sounds great,” Kate agreed. Michael was wearing a plaid button down shirt over a gray T-shirt, and she could see a few chest hairs poking over the neckline. Unable to resist, she kissed base of his throat. Michael kissed the top of her head in response, running his hands up her arms and onto her shoulders so that he could steer her toward the door.

Once outside, he waited for her to lock up, and then took her by the hand as they started to walk. They had barely gone a few paces before he shook her hand free and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You were too far away.” He grinned. “I like being able to hold onto you.”

Kate laughed as she put her arm around him too, hooking her thumb into one of the belt loops on his jeans as they kept walking. “So where are we off to this time?”

“How does the 8th Street wine cellar sound to you?”

Kate considered it and nodded. “I’ve been there a few times but not for a while. It’s a nice place.”

The last time she’d gone there had been for a few drinks with Wren, and she had woken up with Thomas in bed beside her the following morning. The memory of that made her realize she’d not heard from Thomas for a while now, and she smiled, thinking that his date had obviously gone well for him to have dropped off the radar recently.

“I figured we could always end up having dinner there as well,” Michael suggested, and then watched as Kate tugged at her coat as she thought.

“Okay,” she said, “but I probably shouldn’t have too late a night because I’ve got some paperwork to process at home.”

Michael slowed their pace as he glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to ask if you had something else on. I’m making assumptions here.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Kate reassured him. “It’s something that doesn’t take too long.” Kate paused and gave it some thought. “Actually, I can probably hold off on it for a day or two.”

“If you’re sure,” Michael said in a cautious tone. He hadn’t stopped to think about any commitments she might have had. The luxury of determining his own working hours and his eagerness to see her had clouded his judgment.

“Sure, I’m sure. We had a busy day, so a glass of wine will be a great way to decompress,” she said, and then added, “Of course, the company doesn’t hurt either.”

“You’ve read my mind,” Michael answered as he hugged her closer.

“Speaking of reading, how’s the writing going?” Kate looked up at him expectantly.

“Not bad,” Michael admitted. “Better than I expected, as a matter of fact.”

“Is that your own humble opinion?” Kate teased.

“Actually, it’s my editor who’s the one getting excited this time around.” Michael thought for a moment and then went on. “I never know what to make of my writing until someone else has had a look at it.”

“It’s a very introspective thing to do,” Kate agreed. “Don’t you get lonely sometimes?”

They crossed the street and kept walking, Michael steering them out of the way of oncoming pedestrians now and then, keeping Kate firmly tucked against his side. Her thumb was still hooked on his belt loop, and he felt her hand tap against his hip as she made a point when she spoke.

“A little,” he admitted. “But it became a habit. I got used to my own company so it became a way of life.” He gave a dry laugh. “Then, of course, the writer’s block kicked in, and Alistair got a lot of mileage out of calling me his reclusive author.”

“Alistair?”

“My editor,” Michael explained. “I’d withdrawn a lot over the last few months. I stopped doing a lot of things because I was just so caught up in what wasn’t happening.”

Michael glanced down at the ground for a moment as they walked, and then shoved his free hand in his pocket, hunching his shoulders forward a little as he clutched Kate tighter. Kate was quiet; judging by his self-protective behavior and body language she could tell that the conversation had hit a nerve.

“That can’t have been much fun,” she ventured after a few more paces, surprised when Michael gave a dry chuckle.

“No, it wasn’t much fun at all.” He huffed out a sigh at the thought of how his life had been a few short weeks ago. “I stopped going out, stopped seeing my friends, just holed myself up at home and got bitter.” Michael pulled a face. He wasn’t proud of his self-indulgent behavior at all. “Alistair had taken to phoning me practically every day to ask how things were going.”

“Surely he must’ve known that would just make things worse.”

“He did, but he admitted the other day that he was also hoping it would make me so pissed I’d write something—anything—as long as I started work again.”

“Well, he’s either very brave or incredibly stupid.”

Michael gave her a droll look. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t think I’d like to see you in a bad mood: the whole tortured artist routine.” Kate gave a dramatic shudder.

“I’m not that bad,” he protested in a mild tone, and then gave it some more thought. “Actually, I’m not sure. Other than getting pissed at Alistair, I don’t think much has ever made me that angry.”

“You’re too even-tempered?”

“Nope, I just wasn’t getting out and seeing many people,” Michael replied.

“So what changed?” Kate watched him as he spoke, the way his eyebrows drew together in a slight frown when he was choosing his words carefully, how his eyes crinkled with humor.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Michael replied, “I had to escape Alistair one day, so I went out for a walk and didn’t pay any attention to where I was going. Then I looked up and realized that I’d ended up at a café.”

“Really? There are a few of those around,” Kate said, playing along.

“Yeah, there are,” Michael agreed, “but there’s something different about this one. They make great cupcakes, plus the chick that runs it is totally hot.” He gave a mock growl and tried to nip at her throat, grabbing her as she laughed and tried to dodge away.

“So then what happened?” Kate said when they had stopped tussling and resumed their walk.

“I guess there was something so disarming about the bakery that it gave me an overdue wake-up call. I suddenly realized I had to get my head out of my ass and get back to work.”

“Really?” Kate gave him a pleased smile. “Who would’ve thought a cupcake could do that?”