Chapter Thirteen
“I guess we can’t blame it on hormones this time,” Callie said, lying in bed with Cash the next morning. Well, actually it was afternoon. They’d spent most of the night having sex and had slept late. Very late. And had sex again. “Well, not entirely.” There was no denying that there had to be some kind of sex hormones that made her want Cash so badly.
“I can blame it on hormones.” Cash rubbed her back. “Testosterone and adrenaline. From the fight.”
“I never knew you were such a Neanderthal. Getting in a fight made you horny?”
“Sure. It’s biology.”
“So you have no control over your animal desires?”
He laughed. “Apparently not where you’re concerned.”
She laughed, too, then sobered, realizing he was serious. “Oh, Cash.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I was trying not to ruin the fun with a big ‘what have we done’ speech.”
She peered up at him. “You feel guilty, don’t you?”
“Not as much as I will in a couple of hours when reality sets in. Right now I still feel post-orgasmically good.”
She smiled reluctantly. “What do we do about this?”
He pursed his lips. “Since I don’t know what ‘this’ is, I have no fucking clue.”
Callie’s chest tightened. “Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t know what ‘this’ is, either, I guess.”
Apparently there was a shit-ton of sexual chemistry happening between them. But it was more complicated than that. She genuinely liked Cash and considered him a friend. Although she’d always known he was smart and hardworking and loyal, he’d always been a pretty private guy. Now she was seeing how he cared for his family and how he’d been hurt by his dad. She was coming to understand why building the business was so important to him, and she admired that…more than she’d ever admired Beau.
Beau. Dammit. Just when she was having faint little hopes that there could really be something between her and Cash…there was Beau.
It annoyed her that they had to think of him, because he sure as hell hadn’t thought about her feelings when he’d cheated on her. What kind of loyalty did he deserve, whether from her or from Cash?
And yet, she couldn’t fault Cash for his loyalty to his friend.
The doorbell rang.
“Who the hell is that?” Cash mumbled.
“No idea.” She gritted her teeth. “I guess I can’t get away with ignoring them…since your truck is parked in my driveway.” After a beat, she and Cash both said, “Oh shit” at exactly the same time, their eyes meeting. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach.
Who could it be? A list of possibilities ran through her head, and none of them were good.
“Want me to go down?”
“Gah. No! I’ll go. You stay here.”
“And hide?”
“Yes.”
“Callie.”
“I know, I know.” She threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. “Okay, don’t hide. Get dressed as fast as you can. Maybe we can bullshit our way through this.”
Cash laughed softly and followed her out of bed. He gave her ass a light slap as she reached for a pair of panties in her dresser drawer. Damn. She liked that.
The doorbell rang again as she dragged on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Hair and makeup was out of the question. She jogged down the stairs, her heart beating in fast pumps, her breathing quick and shallow. She peeked through the sidelight and saw her mother standing on the doorstep.
Sweet hopscotching Jesus. She thunked her head against the wall.
Mama knocked on the door. “Callie!”
Callie heard Cash’s heavy steps on the staircase as she reached for the deadbolt and slowly opened the door. Heart palpitating, mouth dry, she glanced anxiously over her shoulder to make sure Cash wasn’t there as she opened the door. “Good morning, Mama. What a nice surprise.”
Her mother stepped into the foyer, looking cool and elegant in a silk dress, pearls, and heels. “Why weren’t you in church this morning, young lady?”
Callie sighed. “It’s Sunday?”
“Callie! You haven’t been to church once since you got back from your trip.”
She flicked a glance behind her again. “I know. I’m sorry.” For Mama, church was another social opportunity. She and Daddy belonged to Garden Oaks Baptist Church, and she was sure they attended services more for the prestige of belonging to that church and the social and business networking opportunities than to satisfy their spiritual needs. “I’ve been praying, though.”
Right now she was praying that Cash would stay hidden. She sucked briefly on her bottom lip, all her senses alert, her stomach fluttering.
Mama shook her head and gave Callie an up-and-down look. “I apparently came at a bad time. Whose truck is that in the driveway?”
Callie smoothed her hair back and swallowed.
“Mine.” Cash spoke behind her. “Mornin’, Mrs. Sutherland. You look lovely today.”
Callie’s heart gave a kick against her breastbone. She and Mama both turned to see Cash stroll out of the kitchen drying his hands on a towel.
Mama blinked and shot Callie a sideways glance, then quickly recovered and smiled. “Why, hello, Cash. And thank you.”
“Callie had a leaky tap. All fixed, by the way.” He threw a charming grin her way. “Anything else you need looked after while I’m here?”
“Um.” Her head was a vacuum, her nerves jumping. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay. I’ll be on my way, then. You call if you need anything else, you hear?” He handed her the towel. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Sutherland.”
Callie nodded in dumbfounded silence, and Mama’s gaze tracked him as he walked out the front door with a wave. Her fingers trembled on the doorknob as she closed the door behind Cash.
“Callie, what are you thinking?”
Her insides seized up. “What do you mean?”
“Looking like that with Beau’s friend here. Your hair’s a mess, you have no makeup on, and…what are you wearing?”
Callie touched her tangled hair. “Oh. Um. Right.”
Mama’s eyes narrowed. “Callie. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” Callie whirled and hurried into her kitchen to hide her burning cheeks. “I’m making coffee, that’s what I’m doing. Because I slept late, and I…I had that leaky tap…and I need coffee. Would you like a cup of coffee, Mama?”
“No, thank you.” Mama followed, her high heels tapping on the kitchen tiles. “We had lunch with the Wyatts after church.”
“Ah.” Callie gripped the counter, her back to her mother. “Well, if you’re here worried about my eternal damnation, you can see I’m fine.”
“If you’re on your way to burning in everlasting hellfire, it might not be just because you’re not going to church.”
She sucked in a breath. “What do you mean?”
“The Wyatts were at a wedding last night. The Walden-Bishop nuptials.”
“Oh.”
“Macie Wyatt heard that you made the wedding cake.”
Callie turned slowly. “Yes. I did.”
Mama shook her head. “You made the wedding cake?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God. How mortifying.”
“What?” Callie frowned. “Why is it mortifying?”
“Weren’t you friends with Melanie Walden?”
“Um, sort of. We weren’t really close, but we were sorority sisters. She’s two years younger than me.”
“You should be invited to society weddings like that. Not catering them.” Mama’s lip curled, and she touched her fingertips to the pearls at her throat.
Callie couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her. “I wasn’t catering it, Mama. I made a cake. A very expensive cake.”
Mama paused, then shook her head. “Still. Macie was so surprised to hear that a Sutherland had made the cake.”
“Did she like it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
Callie’s breath left her on a whoosh of disappointment. “Of course you didn’t.”
Why had she had even a breath of hope that Mama might have been proud of her?
But at least this had distracted her from the fact that Cash had been there.
“I’m starting my own bakery.”
Mama’s jaw went slack, and she stared at her. “What did you say?”
“I’m starting my own bakery. I’m going to make wedding cakes like the one for Melanie, and special cookies and French macarons.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Callie’s heart squeezed. “Why is it ridiculous?”
“Because you’re not a…a baker! And you don’t know anything about running a business.”
“Mama, I’ve worked in retail for years. I know a little about it. And I worked at Duchesse in Paris for nearly six months. I learned a lot there.”
“That’s Paris. Not Houston. Oh my God.” Mama pressed her hand to her forehead. “What will people think?”
Callie sighed. She’d anticipated that her parents wouldn’t be supportive of the idea but hadn’t thought they’d be horrified. “Mama, I’m starting my own business. That’s what people in this family do, right? That’s how Grandpa made billions of dollars, and how your father made millions of dollars, and now Daddy is making millions of dollars.”
“A bakery?” Mama shook her head. “It just seems so…menial. Do you have any Maker’s Mark?”
Callie gave her head a shake and set down her coffee mug. “Isn’t it a little early for that, Mama?”
“Nonsense.”
Callie moved across the kitchen to the glass-fronted cabinet where she kept her liquor. She splashed bourbon into a glass and handed it to her mother. Mama’s gaze dropped to her hand, and she let out a screech. “What is that?”
Callie almost spilled the bourbon. “What?”
Mama grabbed the glass with one hand and Callie’s fingers with the other, staring at them.
Oh yeah. Her tattoo.
“What have you done to yourself?”
“It’s a tattoo, Mama. A very small one.”
“Oh my God! It’s permanent?”
“Yes.” Callie paused. “I like it. It has meaning for me.”
“Meaning? Like what? What is it?”
“Surely you can see it’s a flower.”
“Don’t you sass me, young lady.”
Callie swallowed a sigh. “It’s a lotus blossom. It symbolizes strength through adversity.”
Mama lifted her gaze and met her eyes. “Adversity?”
“Beau cheating on me. Our marriage ending.” She straightened her shoulders. “Figuring out what I want to do with my life. I’m a stronger person now.”
Mama dropped Callie’s hand, and her own hand went to one temple. “Lord have mercy.”
“It’s a very small tattoo, Mama. Lots of people have them.”
“Sailors have tattoos.”
Callie laughed. What could she even say to that? “Don’t worry. Cash took me to get it done at a reputable place. I love how it turned out, and I haven’t had any problems with it.”
She knew Mama wasn’t really worried about those things, but whatever.
Mama lifted the glass, peered at the amber liquid in it, then tossed it back. “Thank you.”
Callie grinned, but her smile disappeared when Mama said, “I’ll talk to your father about this.”
“About what? My tattoo? It’s too late to do anything about it.”
“About your bakery business.”
“Oh. Well, sure, you can tell him about it.”
“Your father’s a successful businessman.”
Callie had just made that very point. She shrugged. “If he wants to see my business plan, he can come on over and inspect it.”
Mama’s lips thinned. “I’m sure he will.” She clinked her empty glass down on the marble counter. “Well, I’d better go. And I expect to see you in church next Sunday morning.”
Callie wasn’t making any promises. She was pretty sure her relationship with God didn’t depend on actually walking into a building, and she was also pretty sure that a lot of the people who did walk into that building every Sunday were not going to Heaven. “I’ll see, Mama. I’ve been really busy working on starting my business.”
“Sweet loving Lord.” Mama sighed as she clicked out of the kitchen. “A bakery.”
Callie followed along behind her, and they exchanged a tiny hug before Mama stepped out the front door. “Bye, Mama.”
The door closed, and silence swelled around her in the empty house.
Callie trudged into the kitchen and dropped into the chair in front of the desk she’d been spending so much time at. She stared sightlessly at the computer, her arms dangling at her sides. A feeling of sadness swept over her. Cash was gone, and they hadn’t had a chance to finish the conversation they’d started in bed and…she missed him.
Well, shit. This was no good.
No, no. She was just feeling down because of the conversation she’d just had with Mama. Which was the way she usually felt after a conversation with her mother. Damn.
She bit her lip, then looked around for her cell phone. Crap, it was still in her purse. Possibly dead. She hurried out to find her purse on the table where she’d dropped it last night when she and Cash had arrived home. Hmm, still a sliver of power left.
She typed in a text message to Cash.
Mama is gone. I’m going back to bed… Want to join me?
She stared at it for a long moment, her insides tight, heart fluttering. Then she deleted it.
She couldn’t do that. Sure she wanted to be with him, but she knew it made him feel guilty. Mama showing up like that had been a stark reminder of the dangerous game they were playing. It was better if they just stayed friends. Plus he’d said he had things to do today.
She turned on her computer and opened Facebook. Her eyes popped open wide as she took in all the notifications. What the duck fuck was going on?
She started clicking, and her eyes stayed wide as she read all the messages, including one from Heather White, the wedding planner, asking for her website link.
Ack!
She grabbed for her cell phone again and quickly tapped it to call Kristy. “Hey! How’s that website coming along?”
“Working on it right now, as a matter of fact. I have some things to show you. I’ll send you a link.”
“I’m getting all kinds of questions about making more cakes! And a wedding planner wants my website link!”
“Holy shit!”
“I know!” She told Kristy about the encounter yesterday when she’d dropped off the cake.
Well, the encounter with the wedding planner. Not the encounter with Cash, or his “encounter” with the two idiots who’d been flirting with her at the Wild Turkey, or their, ahem, sexual encounters after that.
She stayed on the phone as she clicked the links Kristy sent her to see the design she’d come up with. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” It was perfect. Elegant, classy, and simple, with a lot of white and a simple font. A series of photographs of one of her cakes, some pink macarons, and sugar flowers rotated across the home page.
“We can change those photos,” Kristy said. “Or add more. I just got those off your Facebook page.”
“Those are good. We could add a few more. I’ll do some on the white marble. I really like it, Kristy!”
“Check the text on each page and let me know if you want any changes. Otherwise, we’re good to go live.”
“Thank you so much! You’re amazing! Oh, hey, I need business cards. Can you design some that look like the website?”
“Sure. That’s easy. Oh wait, do you want to use a photograph? Because then we’d need a high-res image.”
“Um. No, I don’t need a photo on my cards. Just that fancy, scrolly ‘Caked’ and my name and email address and website.”
“And phone number.”
“Yes. Oh my God. I should have a different phone number for the business.” She groaned. “This is all happening too fast. And not fast enough.”
“Okay, I’ll work on it. Monday, you get your new phone number set up and let me know, and I’ll add it to the design and get them printed.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. This is fun!”
“You’re so talented.”
“We each have our own talents,” Kristy said with a laugh. “Sounds like you might be busy baking cakes for the next while.”
“Oh, I hope so! I mean, I’ll probably bake cakes anyway, but it will be so much more fun to make and sell them, and have people enjoy them.”
What she didn’t say was it was so nice to be validated. To be recognized for something she’d accomplished. Something she might be good at.
She started replying to messages, fingers flying over the keyboard. She didn’t respond to Heather, preferring to wait until she could actually send her a link, but the other queries she could get started with. For wedding cakes, she needed to do an individual consultation anyway, as each cake would be customized. It would be nice to have a shop where she could meet with clients to take down their ideas, sketch out her ideas, and even have cake tastings, but she could do that here for the time being, or by email or over the phone. She’d been studying other bakery sites and had drafted out the process she wanted to follow. She’d make it work until she had her own little space.