Page 12 of Cakewalk

“It is not!”

“Oh, it is,” Holden confirmed.

“So then you are named after The Catcher in the Rye?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. The sparkle that shone seemed to ignite something in him too. He had no idea why, but suddenly all he wanted was to make sure that look never left her eyes.

“Holden Hemingway St. James. Whatever else would you expect from a Lit professor and a special ed teacher?”

“I think it’s fantastic,” she said, smiling. It was the biggest smile he’d seen from her, and it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside that learning about his name and his family made it appear. “And I’m jealous of this collection. I love his books.”

“Now you’re really not allowed to meet him,” he laughed. “You’ll be bad for his ego.”

Gigi giggled in response, and it sent a bolt straight to Holden’s already struggling erection. Damn, that sound was going to be trouble.

“Well, I did write my senior capstone paper on the role of the color green in At Midnight,” she offered.

Holden looked at her, puzzled. He would never have guessed her to be someone who would be into such a genre, much less to have actually studied it. Maybe she wouldn’t be such bad company after all.

“You studied literature?” he asked, sounding more surprised than he’d intended. The only thing he knew about this woman was that she was starting over after her husband had a heart attack. There was no reason to think she wouldn’t have liked to read. Just because she looked like she could be a cast member of one of the Real Housewives shows didn’t mean anything. For all he knew, she didn’t really come from money like he’d been assuming. He really needed to make more of an effort to get to know her.

“I’m not as stupid as I look,” she answered softly. Instead of it coming off as a joke or even as if she were defending herself, it came off sounding defeated, almost as if she were reminding herself as much as anyone.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I should probably head to my room. It’s been a long day, and I need a shower,” she said, looking down and gesturing to her soot-covered clothes. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Night.”

Gigi quickly made her way back to the stairs and scurried down them like she was on a mission. Holden figured she probably was—a mission to get away from him.

“Night,” he replied, to the now empty room. So much for that.

* * *

Gigi

The ancient looking hardware in the shower took some fiddling with to get the hot water going, and Gigi figured there was probably some special trick or secret handshake she needed to do each time to get it just right. She probably should have asked Holden that before when he’d pointed out her room, but she didn’t dare go back and ask him now. Not after that disaster of a conversation.

Stripping out of her clothes, she left them in a pile on the floor and stepped into the shower. Normally she would have made sure to take the extra special care of folding them and placing them on the counter, since Bradley hated clothes being left on the floor, but this was her chance to do things how she wanted. Steam billowed out from behind the shower curtain and engulfed her as she tugged it shut, filling Gigi’s lungs as she inhaled deeply. The hot water felt so good against her skin, allowing her muscles to finally relax.

She replayed the day’s events in her mind as she leaned her head back under the stream from the showerhead. From Audrey’s feedback about her subpar cupcakes, to starting a kitchen fire and having to be rescued by her sexy-as-sin landlord, to the discovery that she was now staying in the home of her favorite author—it had been a hell of a day. At this point, she was pretty sure she couldn’t be any more embarrassed if she tried. Her new life was not off to a very good start.

Am I in over my head? she wondered, lathering her hair. She’d felt so lucky to stumble into a job like she had, she hadn’t even considered what it all meant. But baking shouldn’t have been this much trouble, right? People did it every day, so how hard could it really be?

Then there was Holden. Goodness, that man did her in, and she had no idea why. But just looking at him made her forget how to breathe. No man had ever done that to her. Not even Bradley. Sure, she’d thought Bradley was incredibly handsome, and when he’d flirted back with her that night at the country club she’d felt giddy inside, but that was nothing compared to the butterflies Holden was giving her. Something about that broody stare of his and how his ice-blue eyes seemed haunted at times made her want to curl up in those beautifully tattooed arms and share secrets. The feel of those strong arms wrapped around her this afternoon as he carried her out of the carriage house had been incredible and left her wondering what it would be like to have them hold her while she slept. Or what his hands would be like as they explored her body, his gruff voice whispering her name. Just the thought of it was sending shivers down her spine, despite the temperature of the water.

But she needed to be careful. Just because this man made her girlie parts come alive in a way she wasn't sure they ever had didn’t mean anything. She had no idea who he really was, or if he could be trusted. She couldn’t let herself be swayed by his connection to famous authors, or by his beautiful old house. What if the truth got out? It was bad enough she was lying to everyone about her baking skills. What would happen if they found out her husband wasn’t really dead?

Worse than that, though, was the thought of Bradley finding her. There was no way that he had handled it well when those church doors opened and she wasn’t starting her descent down the aisle. His temper was unstable on a good day, and that would not have been a good day. She’d been on the receiving end of that temper enough over the last ten years to know just how he would react. The only question in her mind was, would she live to tell about said reaction?

A knock at the door as she was stepping out of the shower startled her. There was only one person it could be, but she was not about to greet him in a towel.

“Yes?” she called out hesitantly.

“Hi,” Holden’s voice came through the door, sounding just as hesitant. “I…I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s fine!” she said hurriedly, cutting him off. She knew she should probably let him finish, but she’d just been fantasizing about him in the shower. There was no way for him to know that, but even with the door between them, she felt like she’d been caught red-handed. Turns out she was wrong earlier—she could get more embarrassed.

“Okay, well then, I guess I’ll just see you later,” he responded. There was an awkwardness to his voice now, and she hated that she was causing it. But she needed to keep him at arm's length.

The new Gigi didn’t need a man. She was a strong, independent woman. That was what she had told herself from the moment she created her plan to start over.