Chapter Fifteen
Beck's arm dropped from my shoulders, and I missed the comfort of his touch straight away. We finished our sandwiches in silence. Then Beck slid my laptop back in front of him and opened up a new browser window. His long fingers danced over the keys, reminding me of how they'd played my body and made it sing.
To distract myself, I collected the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Grabbed a bottle of water for each of us from the fridge then sat back down beside him.
He angled the laptop towards me. The screen showed a website for a company I'd never heard of. Read the blurb on the page to find out they sold handmade jewellery and art. The story told of how the woman had started making pieces as gifts for friends' birthdays or special occasions. They had told their friends who told theirs, and that was when she started up the business.
Bumping my shoulder against Beck's, I grinned. That was what I wanted to do. Just with cakes, not jewellery. When Beck saw my grin, he smiled back at me, dimples and all.
“See. It's a great story, isn't it? Makes you think, wow she must be good then if that many people buy her stuff.” I nodded. “That's what you need to do with your website. Convince people they should be buying from you.”
That sounded great in theory, but I didn't have that many referrals. Beck clicked on another page.
“Are you on Facebook? Twitter? Instagram, even?”
I shook my head. “No. Well, I have a Facebook account, but I don't really use it much.” Beck took a sip of water. My gaze glued to his lips as they wrapped around the bottle. Okay, get a grip. He's trying to help you and you're jealous of a bottle? Replacing the cap, he carried on.
“You need to be. Alicia—my sister—has a huge following on Instagram. It's easy. You just upload pictures of all the cakes you make, and people will start to follow you. The more people who follow you, the more orders you'll get.”
He did make it sound so easy. Then he clicked on another page.
“And she has a blog. She records herself making jewellery and then speeds it up into a five-minute video clip. Does little how-to bits so people can try a project themselves. You could do that too. Show people how to…” He waved one hand at me and shrugged.
“Make cakes,” I said with a smile.
“Well, yes.”
My smile slipped at the excitement clearly evident by the way his eyes sparkled. He was the first person who had ever shown a real interest in this. Who thought I could do it. That I needed a little help but could do this. I slid my hand over his where it rested on the breakfast bar. Slipped my fingers between his and gave them a squeeze. Throat thick and eyes stinging with gratitude, I think I fell a little bit in love with him right then. I swallowed to try and clear my heart from where it was lodged in my throat. “Thank you.”
Pulling his fingers from beneath mine so he could turn his hand over he twined our fingers together again. “You're welcome. I didn't really do anything, but you're welcome.”
He'd done more than he thought. Knowing he believed in me gave me the confidence to believe in myself. Trying to start this up all on my own since my parents had died was hard. Having someone to discuss it with, who showed a real interest…that meant everything to me.
He glanced at the clock and then released my hand.
“I'd better get going. I've got a team br—” He coughed. “A meeting. I'm running late for a meeting.”
I stood up from my stool to show him out. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you from your plans. But thank you for this afternoon.”
He leaned over and our eyes met. Then he brushed his lips against my cheek and straightened. I was a little disappointed it was only my cheek.
“You're welcome. And I'm happy to help…anytime.”
And the way he said the last two words had me thinking about him helping me in an entirely different way. As I wondered if that was what he meant—or if it was just wishful thinking on my part—heat spread across my cheeks.
But then he was striding towards the living room and I hurried after him. Opened the front door for him and watched as he climbed into a flashy looking blue BMW then drove off.
Quietly, I shut it and the house felt empty without him. Making my way back into the kitchen, the first thing I saw was the laptop still open on the jewellery website. I could record myself working on Beck's parents' cake. Then maybe I could start writing a blog. I smiled as I realised how excited that idea made me. To take control and do something to make my dream a reality. No time like the present; I grabbed the fondant and set to rolling it out.
The following day, I'd spent nearly two hours messing around with the recording that showed how to pipe decorative icing around the base of the cake and the board, but I'd finally managed to edit it into something I was happy with and uploaded it to my website. Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned back on the stool, quite proud of myself. I wondered what Beck would think of it if he ever watched it.
The idea of writing “my story” of how I'd started all this didn't appeal as much. Maybe I could do that another day. As I stared at the blank Word document on my screen, an email alert flashed up. I read the name of the sender before it disappeared. Why would Beck be emailing me? Was there a problem with the cake order?
Bringing the email back up I quickly read it and relaxed. Then did a little happy dance on my seat. He'd seen my blog post and loved it. I think I love him.
My eyes widened as my mind registered the thought. No way. We didn't even know each other that well. It was far too early to be thinking about the L-word. Shouldn't be thinking about it at all. I had thought it was only one night together. I wasn't ready for a relationship. Hell, I didn't even know if Beck was interested in one with me. Maybe he felt some misplaced sense of guilt for the way the situation had ended up and felt responsible as my boss.
Banishing that line of thought, I read the rest of his email instead. He'd been looking at my website to see if he could come up with any more ideas to help. I clapped a hand over my mouth as the goofiest smile I'd ever worn broke out. As if I needed to hide it even though I was alone. Why did that make me so ridiculously happy? That he'd been thinking about me after he left. Because he cared.
I dropped my hand from my mouth and read the line over again. “He cares.”
Maybe I'd read the situation wrong. Whilst that night in the hotel brought back good memories, it had also been a distraction—a way to escape facing the new reality of my life for one night—I hadn't expected it to turn into anything more. What if he hadn't been doing the same thing? Maybe he'd been trying to start something between us?
That night, Beck hadn't pushed for more. Had left his card so I could contact him. And even then, he didn't have to ask me to make the cake for his parents, and he certainly didn't have to help me set up my new venture.
Reading the rest of the email, he said he wanted to take me somewhere that afternoon that would help me with the cake business.
Penny head-butted my leg, drawing my eyes away from the screen. “Hey, Ginge. That sounds suspiciously like a date, don't you think?” Biting my lip, I tried to stop the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Because I might have a date.
With Beck.