Chapter Seven
Fuck. What had he fucking done?
He’d just fucked his best friend’s ex-wife.
Never mind that he’d been crazy about her for years. He couldn’t have her.
This was a nightmare.
His body still shuddering from an explosive orgasm, Callie tight around his still-hard dick, Cash tried to collect his wildly confused thoughts. That familiar feeling of self-loathing roared through him, tightening his quivering muscles and tensing his jaw. How could he feel so good and yet so fucking awful at the same time?
“Wow,” she whispered. “That was intense.”
That was fucking nuclear. Also, he might have pulled a hamstring. Jesus Christ.
She petted his hair and the back of his neck, her face resting on his shoulder. His hands still held her sweet little ass and, goddammit, he never wanted to let go. He fought to get air into his straining lungs.
“Those endorphins are really something.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. “Yeah.” That was what this was—hormones. That was it. He gave her ass a squeeze, then pulled his hands out, easing her butt to the counter. He drew back and looked at her.
She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“You look mad.”
“I’m not mad.” He swallowed a sigh.
“Yes, you are. Are you mad at me?” Her eyebrows pulled together.
He kissed her forehead. “No. I’m mad at myself. I shouldn’t have done that.” That was putting it mildly. What kind of motherfucking shit for brains was he, sleeping with his best friend’s ex-wife?
Jesus. There weren’t enough curse words in the world to express his feelings of anger and disgust at himself.
“We,” she corrected, lifting her pointy chin. “We did it. It’s not like you attacked me. I was the one who was, er, begging for it.” Her cheeks went scarlet despite her bold words. Clearly, this was not something Callie did often.
“Okay. I’ll give you that. It takes two to tangle, as they say.”
She smiled.
“But you were under the influence of hormones, and I should have been the one who was strong enough to say no.” Fuck. He’d been strong for so long. He almost couldn’t believe he’d finally given in to it. To her.
“I think there might have been some hormones affecting you, too.” She stroked a hand over his chest.
He stepped farther away and out of reach, every muscle in his body rigid. He hauled up his jeans and tucked himself back in, then tugged up the zipper.
Her eyes clouded, then her eyelashes lowered as she reached for the tank top on the counter. She pulled it over her head, ignoring the bra, which was cruel because even with those perfect breasts covered, they were still tempting, her sharp little nipples poking through the thin cotton.
Cash bent and picked up her shorts and handed them to her. She went to hop off the counter, but he clasped her waist and lifted her easily down.
“Thanks,” she murmured, separating a tiny pink thong from the shorts and stepping into it.
The sight of that scrap of pink silk lit his blood on fire. “I’m sorry, Callie.”
Her eyes flashed. “Oh my God, don’t apologize. That’s the worst thing you can ever say to a woman after sex.”
“It is?”
“Well, there might be some worse things. Like, ‘we have to hurry, my girlfriend’s on her way over.’ Or, ‘that was better than a root canal.’”
He rolled his bottom lip in against a laugh. “Jesus. I’m not saying it was bad. I’m just saying we shouldn’t have done that. Beau—”
“Oh, Christ.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “Beau.” She exhaled heavily. “I don’t care about him.”
“Maybe you don’t. But he’s still my friend. And business partner. And if he knew I’d just nailed you on your kitchen counter, he’d be… Fuck.” His gut torqued with guilt.
She gazed back at him, eyes full of remorse. “Oh, Cash.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “He’ll never know about this.”
“Damn right he won’t.”
“It’s none of his business.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. I agree. But still…” That didn’t stop the shame from twisting his insides.
“Okay, okay, now I’m the one who’s sorry. It just happened… It won’t happen again. Unless I get another tattoo.”
His eyes flew wide open.
“Kidding!” She grimaced. “I mean, I might get another tattoo, but I’ll do it on my own.”
“How is your tattoo?” He picked up her bandaged hand.
“It’s fine. Barely even a throb.”
He held her hand for a moment, staring at it. A complex and confusing mix of regret, anger, longing, and satisfaction brewed inside him. He’d wanted Callie for so long. Fucking her on her kitchen counter hadn’t been one of his fantasies, but holy hell, it had been hot. Better than any of his fantasies. And a huge fucking mistake. Both horrified and…yes, overjoyed that this had happened, he drew air into his burning lungs. “I better go.”
“We didn’t even finish eating.”
This was true. He looked at the sushi spread out, his appetite completely gone. He couldn’t stay, knowing that now he’d been inside Callie, he was only going to want that again. And again. And that couldn’t happen. “You finish, darlin’.” He managed a smile. “Look after that tattoo. You remember the instructions, right?”
“Yes.” Her dark eyes drooped, and her bottom lip quivered.
Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He’d be a dead man if tears showed up. “Okay, Callie. Take care.”
She trudged behind him as he walked to her front door, ever the polite hostess. “Bye, Cash. And thank you for taking me…”
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
“…to get the tattoo.”
“Welcome, darlin’.”
…
Cash couldn’t stop beating himself up for what had happened.
Sunday morning he awoke after a few hours of restless sleep, irritable and with a strange urge to punch something. All night long he’d dreamed of Callie, which was fucking torture. How could he have let something like that happen?
And he and Beau were going golfing this afternoon, so he had to face him. And not only did he have to face Beau, they were golfing with Aaron Sutherland, Callie’s uncle, and Jed Crenshaw, who’d married into the Sutherland family and who would be making the decision on the Sutherland Industries refinery substation construction project.
He rubbed his face, briefly considering calling Beau to tell him he was sick.
Nah, he couldn’t bail on him. Christ, the guilt was eating away at his guts, though. Why, why had he let that happen?
He hadn’t stood a chance.
He sighed, heaving his golf clubs into the back of his truck.
He’d wanted her for so long. Years ago he’d resigned himself to the fact that she would never be his. Beau had claimed her, they’d fallen in love, and Cash had shut down his feelings. He’d hid his misery the first night she’d stayed over at their place, and the day she’d flashed her two-carat diamond engagement ring in front of his eyes. He’d shut down his feelings for a lot of things, closing himself off to protect his miserable secret. Nailing every other woman he could get into his bed—not to mention other places—was supposed to help him get over Callie, but he’d never gotten involved with any of those women. Never found anyone else he could care about that way.
He’d managed to convince himself he was over her until Beau screwed around and broke her heart. Then he’d known he’d been bullshitting himself, because he felt Callie’s pain like it was his own.
As he drove to the country club, he remembered the day he’d caught Beau cheating on Callie. They’d actually come to blows that night, when Cash had exploded with fury after catching Beau with that blonde. A burn hit his chest even now, remembering the red-hot blaze of rage he’d felt on her behalf. Beau’d been shocked when Cash had laid in to him, since he was the guy who was always pokerfaced and in control. Apparently the emotions he’d been bottling up over the years had spilled over, and Cash had been ashamed of losing control like that.
After he’d gotten over the shock of Cash losing control and punching him, Beau’d been pissed. He’d tried to make cheating sound like nothing, like everyone did it and it was no big deal. Oh man…if Callie were his, he’d worship her the way she deserved. He’d never cheat on her.
It was a wonder he and Beau were still friends and partners, after the fight they’d had.
Maybe in Beau’s world it was no big deal, but Cash remembered his mom’s devastation and heartbreak when his dad had cheated on her. That shit was not right, and the fact that he cared so much about Callie had made it all the worse.
“Jesus, what are you so worked up about?” Beau had asked him, rubbing his jaw where Cash had just landed a punch. They’d stood panting and glaring at each other.
What could he say? Hands clenching into fists, his jaw tense, Cash had struggled for words. Finally he’d said, “Callie doesn’t deserve that.”
Beau had lifted one eyebrow. “Why do you even care?”
“She’s a friend. All this time you two have been together, I’ve gotten to be friends with her.”
Beau nodded. “It’s fine, Cash. She’ll never know.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Unless you tell her.”
Cash closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “I’m not going to tell her.”
He’d regretted saying that many times, because Beau’s cheating had continued. Callie needed to know. But it was hard to sort out his own tortured feelings. Did he want her to know so she and Beau would break up? Because even if they did, he could never have her. She’d always be his best friend’s ex. And maybe he was a bit of a coward, because he sure as shit didn’t want to be the one to deliver that blow to her. So he’d kept silent while the knowledge ate away at him, and his friendship with Beau deteriorated.
“We good, man?” Beau’d asked him later that night.
No. I’m pissed at you. But once again, he’d swallowed his anger and frustration, hiding his true feelings. “Yeah. We’re good.”
But it wasn’t that simple. They’d been friends a long time. Cash would always be grateful to Beau for how he’d accepted him and brought him into his circle of friends when they’d met in college. Cash had grown up in a whole different stratosphere than Beau had. Beau’s family was almost as wealthy as the Sutherlands. Raised by a single mom, without his football scholarship there was no way Cash would have been able to attend UT, and he’d definitely felt out of place and different at first. But he and Beau had become partners on the football field and friends off it. Now they were business partners with a successful company that had changed his life and was on the verge of making them millions of dollars.
As angry as he’d been with Beau, the two of them were a good business combination, with Beau’s big-picture thinking and business connections, and Cash’s take-charge nature and attention to detail. They couldn’t throw that kind of money out the window, not to mention the livelihoods of the people who worked for them. And Cash couldn’t throw away the opportunity to help his family. To make his mother’s life easier and repay her for everything she’d sacrificed for him.
Damn, he shouldn’t be thinking about that stuff when he had to go play nice with Beau and the Sutherland people at the country club. But pulling into the parking lot, the very one he’d been at Friday night with Callie, only made his stomach ache even worse.
Somehow he managed to keep a smile on his face and greet Beau, Aaron, and Jed with appropriate words. Focusing on hitting the ball and some business discussion took his mind off Callie. At least for a while.
“We pride ourselves on finding unique, innovative, and cost-effective solutions to our clients’ requirements,” Beau told Aaron. “One of our biggest advantages is that we give our employees an exceptional toolbox for professional success—technology, training, and resources.”
“That’s true,” Cash added. “You probably heard that we were awarded the Engineering Excellence Gold Medal in Industrial and Manufacturing Facilities by the American Council of Engineering Companies of Texas for our fractionation project.”
“I did hear that,” Aaron said. “Congratulations. That’s impressive.”
Around the ninth hole, Cash looked over at Beau putting, completely oblivious to what had happened between him and Callie. Apparently Beau had never felt this intense, gnawing guilt, even when he’d cheated on his wife. In Beau’s mind, he’d done nothing wrong.
So Cash tried to talk himself into that mindset. He really had done nothing wrong. Callie and Beau were divorced. That meant they each could fuck whoever they wanted.
That line of thought was all a complete waste of time when he and Beau ended up in one of the golf carts together, heading back to the clubhouse at the end of the afternoon, and Beau said, “I heard Callie’s friends threw her a divorce party.”
Cash’s insides seized up. “Yeah.”
“That’s bullshit.”
He bit the inside of his mouth. “Well, you are divorced.”
“Fuck. You go to the party?”
“Kristy invited me. I was only there for a few minutes.” How much should he say? Beau could easily know what had happened. “Callie was a little drunk by the time I got there so I drove her home.”
“You never told me that.”
Cash shrugged and steered the cart around a curve. “She was embarrassed. And it was no big deal.”
“I can’t believe she was celebrating our divorce.” Beau’s jaw hardened. “I can’t believe she won’t talk to me, either.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
Beau sighed. “Her parents aren’t happy with the divorce. I’m not happy with the divorce. I still don’t get it.”
Oh fuck. He was not trying to say he wanted to get back together with her, was he? Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw.
Cash gritted his teeth. “You cheated on her, remember?”
Yeah, they’d had this discussion before. Only then, he hadn’t had a guilty conscience that made every muscle in his body tense to the point of pain.
“Yeah, I remember.”
Cash pulled up and stopped the cart, ready for one of the club’s attendants to take it. He had no idea what to say or where Beau was going with this, but what he did know was he didn’t want to talk about Callie. Not to Beau.
“Our divorce sure as hell better not have any impact on our getting this project,” Beau added. “We can’t afford to lose this job.”
Cash tensed. Was that what Beau was worried about? Losing the job because he wasn’t part of the Sutherland family anymore? Shit. That was fucked up.
“Aaron and Jed don’t seem to hold any ill will because of the divorce.”
“Yeah, the Sutherlands still like me.” Beau’s cocky grin held a hint of worry. “And I keep in touch with Joshua.”
Cash nodded.
“I won’t let my relationship with her family die,” Beau continued confidently. “They’re too important to let go of.”
His gut turned to stone. “True.”
“Come on, let’s go buy Aaron and Jed some drinks and see if we can seal this deal.”
He followed Beau into the clubhouse.
…
What the hell had she been thinking?
Callie spent the rest of Saturday figuratively kicking her own ass for seducing Cash.
Scorching mortification swept over her as she lay in bed that night, eyes closed, remembering how she’d come on to him so strongly. That was so not like her.
And yet…her body still tingled and ached. She sucked briefly on her bottom lip, pressing a hand to her lower belly. What was happening?
Cash had blamed it on endorphins. And there was no doubt she’d been feeling funny after the tattoo. But it was more than just hormones…it was Cash.
She kept noticing things about him that she never had before. Or if she had, it had been in a different way. She’d always known objectively that he was good-looking, but now…every time she was around him, he made her knees go soft. Her sex clench. Her body quiver with awareness.
And then he’d bolted.
God.
She squeezed her eyes closed tighter. How humiliating. He’d been so appalled and guilt ridden, he couldn’t get away fast enough.
She shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t want to lose Cash’s friendship, and she sure didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with Beau. She’d just have to ignore that tug of attraction, that weak-kneed, belly-heating pull she felt any time she saw him. Which she probably wouldn’t, after what had happened. He’d no doubt be staying far away from her, and…she couldn’t blame him.
…
When Callie logged on to Facebook Sunday morning, she was surprised to see a private message from one of her UT sorority sisters, Melanie Walden, who she hadn’t seen for quite a while.
Callie! I saw the picture of the cake you made! I need to talk to you ASAP!
Huh? Callie made a face and typed in a response.
Hi, Melanie. What’s up? Call me.
She added her phone number.
Her photos of her macarons and cookies and cakes had been getting lots of attention on Instagram and Facebook, which was cool. Today she was going to take more pics, but she was going to do it right, with appropriate lighting and background. She’d taken some photography classes in college, so she had a few basic skills.
She’d been baking way too much lately, she knew that, but it helped soothe her. Maybe it was an escape, but she loved it, and creating something, something beautiful even, gave her a feeling of accomplishment that had been lacking in her life for so long.
That feeling had never come from putting together an outfit for Lydia Carmichael, or picking the perfect scarf to accessorize Carolina Ainsworth’s new suit. Or from being the perfect hostess when she and Beau entertained clients. She wasn’t even sure if she could articulate why this was different, but it was.
Her cell phone chirped with an incoming call, and she picked it up. No caller was identified, but she tapped the screen and answered. “Hello.”
“Callie?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Melanie. Melanie Walden.”
“Hi, Melanie. How are you?”
They made some polite small talk, even though Callie was curious about why Melanie was calling and she sensed Melanie’s impatience, too. Finally Melanie got to the point.
“I’m getting married next weekend. You may have heard.”
Callie searched back through her memory. “Yes, I did see that on Facebook.” The engagement had happened when she was in Paris. “Congratulations to you and Boone.”
“Thank you!” Melanie paused. “We have a tiny little problem. The person who was doing our wedding cake had an unfortunate accident.”
“Oh dear.” Callie touched her fingertips to her lips.
“Yes! The poor thing got hit by a radio-controlled helicopter.”
Callie’s head moved from side to side. Uh, what? She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“Anyhoo, that’s our problem. We have no one to make our cake, and the wedding is only a week away!”
“Oh.” Callie paused. “Oh. You want me to make a cake for you?”
“Yes!” Melanie’s voice went higher-pitched and breathy. “We’d be forever grateful to you. And your cakes are so pretty. Would you do that?”
“Um. Sure. I could do that.” She had nothing more important, and a whole week was long enough to do some fancy stuff. “You need it for Saturday, I assume?”
“Yes! We’re getting married at the Houston Club.”
“Did you have something particular in mind? You probably already had this planned with your cake baker.”
“We did. I can send you the pictures I’ve saved so you can get an idea of what we wanted. Our colors are eggplant, baby blue, and gold. The bridesmaids are wearing blue dresses, and we’re carrying bouquets of ranunculus, tweedia, and astrantia.”
Holy shmoly, she didn’t even know what all those were. “Do you have pictures of the flowers?”
“Yes. I mean, not exactly what the bouquets will be, but I can show you…wait, you can just go to my wedding Pinterest board and check it out. Everything is there. Even pictures of some cakes I like.”
“Oh, great idea.”
“I’ll send you the link.”
“Okay. What kind of cake do you want? As in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry…”
“Vanilla. Everyone likes vanilla.”
“Okay.” Easy. Callie squirmed with excitement. This was a challenge, but a fun one. “Let me have a look at the pictures.”
“How much do you charge?”
Callie blanked. She had no clue how much to charge. “How much was your other baker charging you?”
“Fifteen hundred dollars.”
Callie’s jaw dropped. Jumping Jesus. Could she really charge that much for her cakes? “I can do it for that,” she said casually.
“Great! Thank you so much, Callie, you’re really saving us. I didn’t want to end up with some crappy grocery store cake or something.”
Callie laughed. “No, no, we wouldn’t want that.”
They finalized a few more details and then ended the call. Moments later Callie’s Facebook bleeped with another private message. The link to Melanie’s Pinterest board.
A few clicks later, she was studying the images. Melanie apparently had very specific ideas of what she liked, but this was helpful. Callie scrutinized the flowers. She could do that. Bah. She could do better than that. It was going to be a lot of work, but she was bouncing to get started.
She sucked air into her lungs and let it out slowly, slumping into her chair. She’d learned that starting a business online was a cheaper way to get going—she wouldn’t have the overhead cost of a lot of equipment or leasing space, plus she could start immediately while she found a place and got it ready. Maybe she could start with this and build up to having her own little shop if all went well.
And now she had her first customer.
Wow. Maybe she could really do this.