CORA LOOKED UP to see the receptionist walking toward her carrying a massive bouquet of flowers. So massive it hid the poor woman’s face and part of her upper body.
“Delivery for you,” she said from behind the explosion of roses and peonies.
Beau was really pulling out all the stops for their first Valentine’s Day together. She’d started the day with an excellent orgasm followed by chocolate chip waffles, and now she had a flower arrangement probably visible from space.
She hoped her own preparations were half as awesome as his had been.
She’d gifted him a massage at this great little spa near the house, along with a haircut and shave at Whiskey Sharp after that so he’d show up that night looking good, smelling good and feeling relaxed.
“Dude, you’re killing it in the boyfriend department today,” Rachel said as she came in a few minutes later. Maybe was due in shortly as well and the three were going to have some tea and cookies to celebrate their Valentine’s Day.
“I know! He just texted to tell me we had dinner plans and to be ready to be picked up here at six to go home and change into whatever is in some swanky box on our bed. He just sent a picture so I don’t know what’s inside.”
Cora hugged Rachel and turned on the kettle to get water boiling for tea.
“He’s got good taste. That dress he got you for Christmas that you wore to the New Year’s Eve party was perfect for you. Whatever it is, I bet it’ll fit perfect and make you look bangin’.”
Maybe strolled in at the last comment.
“Bangin’? I don’t think I’ve been banging since my teen years.”
“Too bad for you. I’m bangin’ every damned day,” Cora said, giving Maybe a hug.
Rachel laughed and ran a palm over her belly in an unconscious movement. So sweet. Full of love already for a little life that wouldn’t even be joining them all until mid-June.
“I almost bought you several novelty pregnancy T-shirts day before yesterday when Maybe, Beau and I were at Pike Place. One of them said Pregnant AF and I still might get it for you because it was perfect and it’s not like your boss won’t let you wear it. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, you totally are pregnant as fuck. I love your baby bump.”
“Most of the time I love it too. I’m officially sized out of my nonpregnancy pants. My god, can you even imagine what pregnancy was like before leggings became so easy to buy? I can’t say I miss pants with zippers.”
Cora curled her lip. “There are pictures of my mom when she was pregnant with Bee and it was a never-ending nightmare of Peter Pan collars and big ass bows. With fabric that didn’t breathe. Blech.”
Rachel’s nose scrunched up a moment. “I can tell you since we’re alone in here that I have been sweating like a whore in church at night. I looked in my pregnancy books and I guess that’s going to be a thing now. Along with perhaps too much spit. Can you imagine? Too much spit. Like a Saint Bernard?”
“Like everyone who gets pregnant drools? Because I haven’t ever seen that.” Cora would have added her thanks for that information, but if Rachel really did end up as a drooler, Cora would only mock her behind her back so as to not upset her. Like a good friend did.
“No. I guess it’s more of a some pregnant ladies have excess spit,” Rachel said as she looked at her phone to confirm.
“Well, good. Let’s hope you can avoid that and all other less pleasant pregnancy side effects.”
“She’s gassy though,” Maybe said as she snagged a cookie.
“You need a dog so you can blame it on her. That’s what Beau does. Poor Jezzy doesn’t even know how quickly he throws her under the bus.”
They chatted and laughed, had tea and cookies and complimented one another’s boobs. A perfect Valentine’s Day so far.
Cora was saying her goodbyes, heading toward the door when her mother came in.
“Hey, Mom. Happy Valentine’s Day,” Cora called out. Things weren’t totally back to normal after the scene on New Year’s Eve, but they were speaking once more, which was forward motion.
Walda gave her a kiss and the flowers got a side-eye.
“Aren’t they pretty? Beau is killing it in the boyfriend game. You and Dad doing anything special?”
“He’s taking me to dinner shortly but we wanted to stop in to say hello and see if my painting had arrived.”
Her parents had purchased a gorgeous painting while they’d been in Vancouver and it should be arriving any day now. Shipping to the gallery was far more common sense than to their house.
“Not yet. I can call to check on it tomorrow if you like though,” Cora offered.
“Yes, that would be fine.” Her mom paused. “Thank you.”
A sleek limo pulled up out front and the driver got out and headed to the doors. “Oh! That’s my ride. I’ve got to run. Have a good time tonight, Mom.” Cora hugged her on the way out.
Her mother looked long at the limo, but then seemed to break out of whatever she’d been thinking and said, “I love you,” instead of complaining or being mean.
Cora paused in the doorway, pleased. “I love you too. Tell Dad the same. I’ll get back to you once I hear about the painting.”
The driver held her door open. “Mr. Petty will meet you at home. He wanted you to help yourself to the champagne I’ve laid out,” he said.
Indeed, a silver ice bucket held a bottle of champagne and a glass waited to be filled. Never one to pass up a lovely glass of champagne, she enjoyed it as they drove home.
Beau hadn’t arrived yet when she went into the house. But he’d left a note that he was taking Jezzy for a walk and would be back shortly.
It gave her time to get ready though, and she really wanted to see what was in that box on the bed so she hurried into their room.
A beautiful green dress with cap sleeves and a heart neckline that showed off her boobs without putting them in jeopardy of loosing their bonds and surging free was nestled into tissue paper. When she pulled it from the box and the material slid over her skin, Cora fell a little more for Beau.
Formfitting without being tight or making her self-conscious. He’d thought of everything, including new shoes and a bag. Damn, he really was winning the boyfriend game.
A week before he’d come into her life she’d been in London, feeling trapped by her life, knowing she had to make some scary changes or get so mired she’d never leave her mother, never shake her life up and run the gallery like she wanted.
Three days after that she’d made the choice for certain. She’d flown back to Seattle filled with conviction about her future, and then there’d been Beau.
He’d never held her back. Never slowed her down or tried to manipulate her to make choices that were the best for him. No. He urged and supported her into making choices that were best for her. Over and over, he put her first. Even when he’d been a dumbass and hadn’t told her about some of the communications with the cult, he’d been trying to protect her. Trying to keep her mother from having ammunition against him.
How could she stay mad at him once she knew that? Once she understood he’d done it to protect, not harm. And now he knew not to do that again. Knew her hard lines and he’d respect them.
After years of a life with everyone else put first, here she was in the house she shared with her boyfriend and their dog. Living a life where she made her own choices. And yes, she did put other people first sometimes. When you loved someone, you did that when necessary.
But she didn’t do it because she was being manipulated there. And her mother seemed to maybe finally be realizing that sometimes loving someone meant letting go enough for them to breathe.
The front door opened and Jezzy came into the house, nails clicking as she ran toward the bedroom, knowing Cora was home.
Jezzy had been to the groomers and sported a red bow on each ear. She was fluffy and clean and absolutely adorable, as usual. Beau came in holding dog-sized angel wings. “She was supposed to wait so I could put these on but she got one sniff and knew you were home so she bolted,” he said, and then stopped, checking her out from head to toe.
“Well, a gal does love to be loved.” She bent to pet Jezzy and got some kisses in thanks. “I do love those red bows in your hair. You look very pretty for the holiday.”
When she straightened, she caught Beau staring again. He said, “You look fucking gorgeous. Sexy and curvy and damn it I don’t want to leave the house now.”
“We don’t have to.” She shrugged. “We’re adults. Oh, and I love the hair and beard. Maybe is an artist in her own right. How was the massage?”
“I’m feeling limber so watch out. As much as I’d love to take you up on your offer and stay here, we have reservations. Come on.”
When he stopped at the marina, she was sure they were headed to one of the restaurants nearby but they headed away from the noise and toward the boats.
“Okay so we’re going on a boat—I get that much.”
He gave her a look. “You’re very insightful.”
“Oh, was that sarcasm? Nicely done.”
“This way, beautiful.” He turned them down a dock and they headed up to what she figured out was the boat he’d arranged for them. Fairy lights had been strung all around and music played softly in the background.
At the gangplank, a server met them and escorted them on board, pausing while Cora toed out of her shoes before handing she and Beau both a glass of champagne.
“We’ll be leaving the dock shortly. Your table has been set with appetizers and the chef will join you shortly to update you on the evening’s menu,” their server told them as he led them to the lavish saloon.
“You’re getting so lucky when we get home,” she told him as they pulled away from the marina and headed toward the lake and a leisurely cruise away from the noise and traffic.
“I’m already lucky, Cora. I’ve been lucky every day of my life because everything brought me to Gregori and Wren’s kitchen in October when you came back into my life.”
She swallowed and leaned against his side. “And they say I’m the poet? I think you have a poet within you, Beau Petty.”
“It’s just proximity to you. I’ve had a lot of Valentine’s Days and I’ll be totally honest. They mostly were about cooking dinner for other people to get out of having to deal with a date that night. You can’t go on a casual Valentine’s date. So I mainly avoided it or made money from it. But now that I have you, it’s a whole new world. Yes, yes, I know it’s a corporate holiday, blah blah. But you’re my Valentine, Cora. Every day is Valentine’s Day because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“For winging it, flowers, a designer dress, bag and shoes and a private yacht with a fantastic chef-made dinner is pretty A-plus work. Thanks for being my Valentine too.”
“You inspire me. This love gig is unexpectedly awesome. I’m glad you like it all.”
The private chef turned out to be Len, which made the meal all the better because he knew them both and created a dinner she’d probably remember for the rest of her days. All her favorites. Things Beau had made for her in the past and he’d given the idea to Len so he could craft a menu that would be pleasing on every level.
Yet another way Beau showed her how much he listened. Every detail told her he paid attention and wanted to make her life happy and better and what on earth was better than being loved like that?
They ate dessert and had some port before going out on deck while the yacht headed back to the marina.
The stars wheeled overhead as they drove home. Their first Valentine’s Day had been a huge success in her book. It wasn’t the flowers or the yacht, it was the way he knew her. The way he put her first that she never ceased to be touched by.
When they got home and out of their fancy clothes, Jezzy followed her around with her stuffed pig in her mouth. It was lovely. Normal. Sweet even.
And when they made love that night, Cora drew closer to him, wanting as much contact as she could get. That touch of skin to skin sending warm waves of pleasure through her. It was long and slow and full of unspoken words.
She didn’t need him to say he loved her when he held her face tenderly, when he kissed the hollow of her throat and hummed his delight. At each touch, something in her leaped up to greet that something in him. It was connection and homecoming even as it was passionate and hot.
It was love because love was all that and then some, and for she and Beau to have found each other twice and fallen in love, that felt like the best kind of magic she’d ever experienced. Once in a lifetime, struck by lightning while eating a cinnamon roll sort of magic that was so many things at once.
And afterward, he made her a grilled cheese sandwich at two in the morning because her life truly was awesome.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Beau dropped Cora off at the gallery and headed to Luna, where he and Ian had plans to do some cooking. He wanted to firm up the last few recipes and Ian was always a great taster and sous-chef.
It also gave him the opportunity to talk with Ian and let him know how the evening before had gone. Len cruised through at one point so Beau was able to thank him again for giving up an evening to come cook for them.
By one-thirty he’d finished up and called Cora, asking her if she wanted him to bring her some lunch, which she did. So he got to serve up some food to his woman to make sure she was well taken care of. Always a pleasure. Also a pleasure to watch her eat his food because she never held back on the moans of appreciation.
The receptionist knocked on Cora’s office door and brought in an envelope. She glanced at it but continued with her lunch. Once they’d finished up and Beau was about to be on his way, she opened it.
And inside was another envelope. Addressed to Beau.
“Uh, I guess your family knows about the gallery.” She handed it over.
“I’ll apologize for that,” he said.
“If you do I’ll kick you in the taint.”
“Um. Well, all right then. I take it back.” With shaking hands, Beau pulled the note free. It was from Obie. “He convinced my father to let my mom get treatment. Still doesn’t say exactly what cancer she’s being treated for, but at least she’s getting medical help. He says she’s doing better already but they’re still guarded.”
Beau paused as he read the last paragraph a few times. Trying to wrestle his hope back a little. “He got the letters to my sons.”
Cora pulled him back to where they’d been sitting to eat lunch. “Tell me.”
Beau said, “One of them says to never contact him again because I’m damning his soul as an excommunicant. That means I was kicked out of the cult and my father told them to never speak to me again because I was poison. Standard treatment for anyone who questioned him or his methods.”
“What about the other?” she asked, keeping her tone carefully neutral, but he saw the flash of anger in her eyes.
“Obie says his heart is not as hardened toward me as his brother. He’s not interested in contacting me now, but he might be open to it in the future.”
She knelt in front of him and took his hands. Love flooded him.
He told her, “I’m not even sad. I mean, that’s not entirely true. I’m sad, but it’s not the crushing desolation I used to feel when I thought about them. And then I think what a terrible person I must be not to be devastated right now.”
“Or, maybe you’re sad, but you’ve done all you can do. You’ve never stopped looking for them. You told them both that. You love them enough that you never gave up and now that they’ve expressed their wishes, you need to love them and yourself enough to let it lie for a bit. Hope the son who isn’t totally cutting you out of his life comes around and opens his life to you. They know you’re real. They know you want to see them and have a relationship with them. You can’t get them to reject this cult they’ve been raised in. They’re adults and make their own choices. For what it’s worth I think you will be able to reunite with at least one of your sons. When he’s a little older and better able to question what he might have been told. But what I know for certain is that you have consistently done all you could. And how can you do more than that? You are not bad or wrong for being where you are right now.”
“I don’t know how you always manage to say exactly the right thing at exactly the moment I need to hear it. But you do. And I’m so glad for it. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through these last months without your support.”
Knowing she loved him, that she believed in him, had helped him realize he deserved to be loved like that. Helped him see he deserved to see his kids, even if they didn’t want to see him. He’d get through this time of sadness. Hope his mom got better and that one day he’d be able to hug his children once again.
But he didn’t need to wish for real love because he had it. Right there in front of him. Filling his life with all the things that made life worth living.
“Come on, I’m the boss and I say I should leave early so I can go home and get schmoopy with my dude.”
“You sure? I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get off in a few hours,” he said, but damn he hoped she didn’t listen.
“I’m totally sure.”
She held a hand out and he took it.
Beau knew then he’d always take that hand. Always walk into his future with her at his side. He came to her torn and not a little bit broken and she’d smoothed some of those rough edges, leaving the love behind.
Always bringing love. And understanding. Recognition and a sense of connection he’d never thought possible. And now knew he never wanted to be without.
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from CAKE by Lauren Dane.