BTW I Love You

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BTW I Love You Page 32

by Heidi Rice


  He cursed, flattened his forearm on the warm glass and rested his forehead against it.

  He’d spent a whole week determined not to go after her again. Not to succumb to the bone-deep desire to promise her anything she wanted to get her back.

  He didn’t make promises, because he had always been terrified he wouldn’t be able to keep them. But it was becoming blatantly obvious that staying away wasn’t an option any more. Because the need to see her again was driving him completely nuts. And not just because he wanted to hold her again, to touch her, to explore her body and exploit the sexual attraction between them. No, he thought wryly. Wanting to see her for sex would have been far too simple, too straightforward.

  And nothing about Ruby had ever been simple.

  He didn’t just want to see her for sex, even though he’d tried to make himself believe it when he’d written that ridiculous note, and then thrust inside her with about as much finesse as a battering ram when she’d come to his chambers.

  He straightened, blew out a breath.

  The truth was, he wanted so much more than sex from Ruby. He wanted to spend time with her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to inhale that spicy vanilla scent while discovering everything about her. Her favourite colour, her favourite book, her favourite film. What sort of music she listened to, even who she voted for—although he expected that discussion to cause more than a few arguments. He wanted to know what her best subjects were at school. The first thing she’d learned to bake. What her dreams were for her business. How she’d got the tiny crescent-shaped scar he’d noticed on her right hip. He even wanted to see her damn baby pictures. He was curious about her past, her present and every tiny thing in her life that had made her the strong, defiant, capable and yet caring woman she had become.

  He frowned, squinting into the sunshine. It was madness, romantic in a way he’d always despised, but he couldn’t shake the conviction that had been forming ever since he’d watched her walk away while he’d stood frozen in shock on the terrace of her friend’s bar.

  The conviction that they were connected. That they had so much more to learn, to discover about each other. That they weren’t finished, but had only just begun. And that for the first time in his life he wanted to make a promise. To Ruby. And only Ruby.

  ‘Damn it! What the hell are you waiting for, West-more?’

  A sudden sense of urgency propelled him across the room in four long strides. He grabbed up his wallet and his car keys and shoved them into the back pocket of his trousers. He’d wasted a whole damn week already, he thought as he dashed out of the door and strode down the corridor. He didn’t care what Ruby said, or even what she wanted. She loved him. She’d said it herself. Which meant she was going to have to face the consequences.

  No way in hell was she getting over him. Because he wasn’t going to let her.

  ‘Why don’t we double the number of Chocolate Indulgence then and drop the Coffee Crumb altogether?’ Ruby propped the specs back on her nose and marked the changes on her order sheet. ‘Not a problem, Jamie. We aim to please.’ She gave a forced laugh at the young executive’s offer of a date, and turned him down, as she always did. But Jamie’s relaxed flirting brought with it none of the pleasure it once had. Saying her goodbyes, she dropped the phone back in its cradle and flung her specs on the countertop.

  ‘I can’t believe how persistent that guy is,’ Ella said from across the kitchen where she was busy cutting out cookie dough. ‘You’d think he’d have taken the hint by now.’

  Maybe he would have, Ruby thought, as she rubbed her neck where the muscles ached, if she hadn’t once egged him on, enjoying their weekly flirting session as much as he did. Now all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and never speak to another man again in her entire life. Because she didn’t want any other man but Callum Westmore, and, unfortunately, he didn’t want her. She sighed and grabbed her apron off the hook by the cooker.

  ‘Time to snap out of it, Tess,’ she muttered wearily.

  ‘Who’s Tess?’ asked Ella.

  Ruby glanced over her shoulder to encounter Ella’s worried frown. ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles. My current role model. But luckily for you and everyone I know, I’ve just decreed that maudlin self-pity is far too unattractive.’

  ‘It’s only been a week, Rube. Give it time. You’ll get over him.’

  She sent Ella a weak smile. ‘Good point.’ Unfortunately she knew she would never get over Cal, because she had always been her mother’s daughter, however much she had tried to deny it.

  Once she fell in love for real, that was it for her.

  ‘How about I make extras?’ she said, rifling the cupboard for her ingredients. ‘And we can have a Chocolate Indulgence Fest later with Prosecco and strawberries and watch that new crime series with the ultra hot tottie in.’

  ‘That would be brilliant,’ Ella said, perking up considerably and plastering on her usual cheery smile. Although that cheeriness had been a little forced of late.

  The doorbell dinged.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Ella said, and left the kitchen.

  Ruby crossed to the cold room to fetch six bars of luxury chocolate. She’d unburdened herself to Ella enough. Crying on her friend’s shoulder was getting old. Maybe she would only be going through the motions for a while, but if she trained herself to look happy and carefree again, she might convince herself eventually.

  ‘You can’t come in! Haven’t you upset her enough?’

  Hearing Ella’s pained shout, Ruby ducked out of the cold room.

  And dropped the chocolate.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she said, her voice soft as her heart rammed full pelt into her ribcage, so shocked at the sight of him, her knees began to shake.

  ‘I told him he couldn’t come in,’ Ella said indignantly.

  ‘I’m here to have that talk, whether you like it or not,’ Cal said firmly as he strode across the kitchen, his brows drawn down and his gorgeous face set in a determined frown.

  He grasped her arm just as her knees buckled.

  ‘You can’t talk to her like—’

  ‘It’s okay, Ella,’ she interrupted her friend’s panicked plea, a little surprised by the steel in her voice as she locked her knees. ‘Do you think you could leave us alone?’

  ‘If you say so.’ Ella slanted a furious look at Cal. ‘But I’ll be in the reception. If you need me,’ she added, then left.

  ‘You can let go of my arm now,’ she said, oddly detached from the hysteria that was clutching at her chest.

  His fingers released.

  She’d let him say whatever he had to say, and then she’d let him go. ‘So what was it you wanted to talk about?’

  She probably deserved this. It was no doubt some sort of karmic revenge, for all those guys she’d played at being in love with and hadn’t been.

  ‘As if you don’t already know.’ He towered over her, the low fury in his voice matched by the swirl of temper in his eyes. ‘You don’t get to drop into my life, explode like an atomic bomb, and then just walk off and leave me to deal with the wreckage.’

  Her back butted against the counter. She flattened her hands against his chest, but, instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into the crisp cotton of his shirt.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, panic and hope dog-fighting in her belly like dive bombers.

  ‘Let me spell it out, then,’ he snarled, furious now, his once-rigid control history. Gripping her waist, he lifted her onto the counter, then jerked her back towards him until her thighs were hugging his hips. ‘You don’t get to get over me, Ruby. Because I’m not going to get over you.’

  ‘What are you trying to say?’ she whispered. Hope winning, but only just.

  He gave a deep sigh, dropped his head back and cursed at the ceiling.

  She raised a hand to his cheek, brought his gaze back to hers. ‘Don’t you dare stop now, Cal. Or I may have to murder you.’

  What sh
e saw wasn’t anger any more but soul-deep longing.

  ‘I’m saying that this falling in love thing seems to be contagious,’ he said, his lips tilting in a wry smile. ‘And that perhaps we should give it a go together. See where it takes us.’

  She stared at him, the hope swelling to impossible proportions as tears stung the backs of her eyes. ‘Do not joke with me. Because it’s not funny.’

  He gave his head a rueful shake, wrapped his arms around her hips, drew her even closer, until her eyes were level with his.

  ‘Ruby, how many women do you think I’ve said that to?’ He touched his lips to hers, and she could have sworn she felt their hearts beating in unison. ‘This is not the sort of thing I joke about. Ever.’

  He cupped her cheek in his palm, the tenderness in his gaze as tangible as the heat. ‘You drive me nuts.’

  ‘I’m hoping that’s a good thing,’ she quipped, her flirt gene flickering to life as love bloomed inside her.

  ‘And you’ve totally messed up my life. So much so that I don’t ever want it to be that tidy again,’ he said, his voice so rich with appreciation she felt her insides melt. His hand fell to her neck, caressed her collarbone. ‘And you finally made me see the truth.’

  ‘What truth?’

  He huffed, looked away. ‘I figured I was like him. That I had the same weakness. The same inability to remain faithful. And that the best way to avoid breaking a promise would be never to make one.’

  ‘But that’s mad. You’re nothing like your father,’ she said forcefully, astonished that he could be quite that clueless about himself. ‘How could you be? You’re the most honourable man I know.’

  He chuckled. ‘If you say so.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘But that’s not the point. It was never about him, it was about me. Being too much of a coward to trust anyone. To put myself out there and risk being hurt.’

  She grinned, leaned into his palm. ‘So all those things you said? About love being just a word?’

  ‘Obviously complete rubbish. Thanks so much for pointing that out.’

  She laughed, the bright happy sound underlaid by his rough chuckle.

  ‘Are you sure you want to admit to that, Counsellor?’ she purred, draping her arms over broad shoulders as the last of the anguish and confusion washed away on a tide of love and longing.

  ‘I’ll admit it under oath if you like,’ he said, sounding serious again as his hands ran down her back.

  ‘That’s very tempting.’ She stretched, pressing the swollen tips of her breasts into his chest as she threaded her fingers into his silky hair. ‘But I should warn you, I may use it against you at a later date.’

  He chuckled. ‘Feel free to use me all you want, Ms Delisantro.’ Resting his hands on her hips, he pulled her against the proof of his love and desire. ‘In fact, I’m counting on it.’

  She rose up, pulled his mouth towards hers.

  ‘Let’s use each other,’ she whispered, then placed a lavish kiss on his lips.

  He angled his head, capturing her mouth to seal the deal.

  And her heart did a victory roll before shooting off towards the cosmos.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘RUBY, thanks so much for the cupcake tower. It’s fabulous. So fresh and funky. Everyone’s talking about it.’ Maddy beamed as she swayed gently from side to side in that unconscious way mothers did, with her newborn baby son sound asleep on her shoulder. ‘I’ve had to give your details to four people already. It’s like a work of art.’

  ‘But hopefully a lot more edible.’ Ruby grinned back at the woman who had become one of her favourite people. She laid her hand on little Daniel Callum King’s back. She breathed in the sweet scent of talcum powder and milk. The soft bundle wriggled under her palm and her grin softened—the yearning across her chest tightening like a vice. I want Cal’s baby. I’m ready. ‘So, how’s your little work of art doing?’ she said, pushing the now almost constant longing as far away as she could.

  Cal’s hand squeezed her waist as he held her firmly against him. ‘I think you may have a rock god in your future, Mads,’ he said, has low rumble of laughter brushing against Ruby’s hair. ‘Given the amount of singing your son did in the church.’

  ‘Not funny.’ Maddy giggled. ‘Rye reckons he may have deafened the vicar. And the poor old guy’s hearing wasn’t exactly pitch-perfect to begin with.’

  ‘He’s got a healthy set of lungs,’ Cal said. ‘All the better to top the charts with one of these days.’

  ‘You wouldn’t say that if you were the one getting up four times a night,’ Maddy quipped.

  ‘Well, you know what they say about making your bed and then having to lie in it …’

  Ruby listened to brother and sister spar playfully with each other and took some comfort in the fact that their relationship had become so close and relaxed over the last few months. There was none of the distance that she’d seen between them last summer. She and Cal came down to Cornwall frequently now. Rye had started teaching him to surf, and he’d embraced his role as uncle with surprising enthusiasm. Although the first time the two of them had babysat Mia hadn’t exactly been a roaring success—the little dynamo had managed to wind them both round her little finger, and when Maddy and Rye had returned from their dinner date at midnight, she and Cal still hadn’t managed to get her into bed.

  But Cal’s words about his new nephew, even in jest, only made her yearning—and her confusion over it—more acute.

  ‘Why don’t I go and check on the tower, make sure it’s not getting too depleted,’ she said, interrupting the siblings’ banter.

  ‘You want me to give you a hand with that?’ Cal asked, caressing her hip.

  ‘No, I won’t be long,’ she said, suddenly eager to be alone and give herself time to think.

  With the christening party in full swing, and the fifty or so guests happily enjoying the vintage champagne, Maddy’s home-made canapés, and the glorious spring weather, it took Ruby quite a while to work her way through the crowd and escape to the solitude of the Trewan kitchen.

  The decision to bake was probably a little manic but she decided to go with it. Hunting up the necessary ingredients from Maddy’s well supplied pantry and putting an apron on to protect her posh frock, she began to rustle up a roast vegetable lasagne. Once everyone left, it would just be her and Cal, Rye, Maddy and the children and she doubted anyone had given much thought to supper.

  Comfort food would be good for what ailed her.

  She was being silly. Ridiculous. Letting the emotion of the day, and the sight of Cal holding his baby nephew that morning as they both made their vows as godparents, get to her in a big way.

  This strange mixture of envy and hope and desperation was just a biological urge, one that had been nagging at her for a while and had gotten totally out of hand today. Watching Maddy’s slim figure grow ripe with her child had been hard. But then, two weeks ago, when she and Cal had arrived at the Truro maternity hospital just after Danny’s birth, the yearning had got a billion times worse. She’d had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying anything that night, when they’d been lying in each other arms and he’d been laughing about something Mia had said to him about her new baby brother.

  Methodically scrubbing and chopping the vegetables, Ruby forced her mind to focus, so she could look at the situation rationally.

  Cal and her had only been living together for seven months and while their relationship had brought her more joy than she could ever have imagined, it had also brought with it quite a few challenges. They were both headstrong, confident people who weren’t shy about speaking their minds, and they didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything. Far from it. Happily they were also both committed enough to each other to do whatever it took to find the middle ground. Heat bloomed at the memory of how their last argument had ended. One should certainly never underestimate the importance of great make-up sex when it came to navigating the minor bumps in a relationship.

  The point was, she wanted to have Cal
’s children for the right reasons. She knew what an incredible father he would make. What incredible parents they would make together. They complemented each other, his logical, disciplined approach to life the perfect counterpoint to her passion and enthusiasm.

  She sprinkled olive oil over the prepared vegetables, seasoned them and popped the roasting tray into the oven.

  But it was still way too soon.

  That’s what her head was shouting. Unfortunately, her heart and her biological clock were shouting something entirely different. And she was finding it harder and harder to reconcile the two.

  Her heart lifted a little as she began to mix the pasta dough. Would it really be so terrible, just to mention it? In passing? After all, she knew Cal was unlikely to bring it up first. Like most guys it probably hadn’t even occurred to him yet, because he didn’t have a biological clock, ticking or otherwise.

  She debated the pros and cons of placing the subject on the table, purely for the purposes of negotiation and discussion. Cal was highly unlikely to say yes straight off. She already knew that. He was a naturally methodical man. So she had to be prepared for Cal to say no, or not yet. And not let it upset her. She had to be prepared to be patient and pragmatic about his answer, before she posed the question. Or she could end up turning into even more of a ticking biological time bomb than she was already.

  Unfortunately, patience had never been Ruby’s strong suit and pragmatism wasn’t real big on her list of accomplishments either, unless it had to do with bulk ordering or filing Touch of Frosting’s VAT returns in time. And she didn’t think asking your partner if he would consider having a baby with you quite qualified.

  ‘That smells incredible.’

  Ruby yelped and dropped the sieve, sending a cloud of flour over herself and the counter.

  ‘Cal, for goodness sake, are you trying to give me a heart attack?’ she said as his arms circled her waist. The heat burned in her cheeks at the realisation that she’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even heard him come in. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds, or she’d have more than the dusting of flour on her posh frock to worry about.

 

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