Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hartford
I’d celebrated my sixth week in London by baking a cake.
Not only had I baked, but my sponges had risen, the buttercream had reached the perfect consistency, and the entire thing looked edible. Okay, maybe I’d had to call Stella twice to check stuff, but she wasn’t actually here supervising me. I’d done this by myself.
As I took a step back to admire my creation where it stood on the countertop, I had to admit, I’d outdone myself. Joshua would be impressed.
If he ever got to see it. I’d looked up a picture of his date tonight and honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d broken our no-sex rule for her. She was beautiful. Tall and thin and romantic looking. Every inch a supermodel.
But I’d baked.
A banging at my door made me jump, and I couldn’t contain my grin. It had to be Joshua, right? No one else would be banging on my door at . . . I checked the time on my watch. Wait, it was only eight forty-five. The date was meant to go until nine thirty.
“Who is it?” I called out.
“You better have cake,” Joshua replied.
I pulled the door open. “I knew you couldn’t last two hours just talking to a woman over dinner.”
He groaned and pushed past me, then stopped when he spotted what was on the kitchen side. “Nice work,” he said and I swear, I might have grown an inch.
“It’s a triple sponge,” I said. “Broken up Flake on the outside stuck to the vanilla buttercream.”
“Very nice,” he repeated, peering closer. “What’s the filling?”
I scrunched up my face. I was going to burst; I was so excited for him to see. “You’ll never guess.”
He glanced at me like he was Miss Marple, having discovered the murderer. “Hand me a knife.”
I headed to the utensil drawer. “Hey, you need to explain why you’re back here so early. You signed up to two hours.”
“Believe me, it felt like three. I need cake first.”
That was a fair trade. I handed him the knife. “Wait, don’t cut into it yet. Let me get plates and forks first.” I scurried round, getting everything lined up.
“Right,” I said. “Now.”
Joshua looked at me, shaking his head like I’d completely lost the plot. “You know, you’ve built this up now, I’m expecting something mighty special.”
He had no idea what was about to hit him. This was a step up from special.
He sunk the knife into the sponge and it click-click-clicked as it hit what was hidden inside.
“What have you hidden in here?” He pulled out his knife and measured out a wedge, pushing his knife in again. “Okay. If there’s something alive in here, I’m suing you for emotional distress.”
“You’re a coward. Pull it out.”
Balancing the slice on the flat of the knife, he pulled it from the rest of the cake, revealing the best thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“Wow,” he said as the candy-coated chocolate sweets poured out of the middle of the cake and onto the cake stand.
“Mini eggs! They were selling the last few bags at the supermarket.”
“So cool,” he said.
“Totally. I saw it on a TV program and found a recipe. Are you impressed?”
He laughed. “Very. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
“I’m getting better at baking, thanks to Stella. Should be edible at least.”
Joshua cut another slice and we took our plates to the sofa.
“So, tell me about Natalie,” I said. “Hollie said she’s totally your type.” Knock-out gorgeous and amazing in bed, no doubt.
“It’s good,” he said, his mouth full of cake. He pointed at what was left with his fork.
I swallowed down my first bite. “Really good.” The Flake and the Mini Eggs thrust the cake into hyperdrive. “But tell me about the date.”
“Natalie was nice enough.”
“But not someone you’d want to settle down for?”
He sighed and put down his plate. “Not at all.”
“I can imagine you’re not looking to change too much. Shagging supermodels and living in a hotel is a fairly solid routine.”
“I don’t shag supermodels.” He paused. “At least I haven’t shagged one in a while.”
I laughed. “Well, you don’t have to go through dates two and three if you don’t want to. You’ve proved me right—you can’t hold down a conversation with a woman for two hours.”
“Not true,” he said. “You’re a woman. And I can talk to you for two hours.”
My heart jumped and dived into my stomach at the thought that I was something unusual, something special to Joshua.
I needed to get a grip. He’d been very clear about not wanting me.
Yes, we’d kissed, but it had been a momentary loss of control.
We’d just spent too much time together. My forcefield had malfunctioned and he .
. . he’d just acted on instinct or something.
Because I had a vagina and he was an out-and-out player.
I picked up a mini egg from the collection on my plate. “Yes, but I don’t count. I’ve known you since—”
Joshua’s phone buzzing interrupted us. He glanced at the screen. “It’s from Natalie. I better get it.”
I shrugged. “Show me how it’s done, Coach.”
He slid his fingers across the screen and jerked his head back at the message. He didn’t look impressed.
“Is she name calling you? Were you rude to her?”
He started to laugh. “I wouldn’t call it name calling. And no, I wasn’t rude.”
“What did she say?”
He glanced at me as if he were contemplating how to answer. “She didn’t exactly say anything. She chose to communicate through pictures.”
I sat up straight. “Really? Like naked pictures?”
He laughed again and nodded.
How typical that a woman he’d only just met would be sending him naked pictures. But that was the effect Joshua Luca had on women. “What bits?” I leaned over to try to see.
“Hey, no. There’s no way I’m going to show you.” He swiped and prodded at his phone. “There. I deleted it.”
“That’s very gentlemanly of you,” I said, slicing another mouthful of cake. My forcefield wasn’t prepared for him to be quite so . . . I wasn’t sure if polite or grown up was the right descriptor, but his sense of decorum was more touching than I’d anticipated.
“I’m not a fifteen-year-old boy who needs to impress his friends with pictures of naked women.”
Every time I thought my forcefield was back up and running, Joshua had to go blowing holes in it.
But I was getting better at patching them up.
I just had to hope that one day the entire thing wasn’t going to collapse in a heap.
“What are you going to say in reply? What does anyone say when they get an unsolicited naked picture from a relative stranger?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. It’s not like I’m going to see her again. And I don’t want her to send any more.”
“You don’t? Hollie said she was beautiful. Maybe she’d be up for becoming your Miss Thursday Night.”
Joshua grumbled something under his breath but I didn’t catch the details.
“You have to say something in response.”
“Maybe I should just tell her . . . thank you?”
I kicked him in the shin and tried not to laugh at him being so delightfully clueless in this position.
A part of me had assumed that Joshua was batting away boob-pictures on a regular basis.
“I thought it was me that needed a dating coach. You cannot tell a woman ‘thank you’ after she sends you a picture of her boobs, without sounding like an arsehole.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
He typed out a message on his phone and then held it up to me. Great to meet you tonight. Good luck in the jewelry designing. Take care.
“You’re a pro,” I said, genuinely impressed. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested without being rude. “I would think you were a nice guy but we just didn’t vibe.”
“I am a nice guy. And we really just didn’t vibe.”
Joshua was nice. To me. But if we were romantically linked, I wasn’t so sure I’d feel that way. I imagined the women who slept with Joshua couldn’t get enough of him and always wanted more. Hell, I had to fight that feeling and we hadn’t gotten naked together. Thank goodness.
“Like you said to me, you need to kiss some frogs before you find the one.”
“Give me some more cake or I’m going to set you up with a model for your next date.”
“Sounds good. I’ve always had a thing for pretty men. You ruined me forever.”
He turned his head to look at me, unable to hide his smirk. “Excuse me, I did what?”
“Ruined me.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “Everyone knows that your first crush creates a blueprint for all future lovers.” I scrunched up my nose. Why couldn’t I keep my inside thoughts from spilling out of my mouth?
“I was your first crush?” He looked genuinely surprised. Like this was new information to him. I always felt like it radiated out of me in neon. Maybe I’d been better at hiding it than I thought.
“A crush the size of Everest.” The fact I could admit it was more evidence I was a different person now.
The dimple was back and so was that sexy smirk he should patent and sell. “I like that idea.”
“Had,” I replied. “I had a crush on you. Past tense.” I couldn’t bear the thought that I still fantasized about him. A woman’s forcefield couldn’t remain intact all the time.
“Oh,” he said, faking a wounded look, as if he cared whether a woman like me would have a current crush on him. Maybe he just assumed every woman wanted him. And he probably wasn’t so far off.
“I’ll have to do better for your next date,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “I’ll find your perfect woman.”
“If you say so.” He let out a sigh. “Make sure she’s interesting. Or funny. Or ridiculous. I hang out with you for two hours and it’s never strained like it was with Natalie.”
My cheeks heated at his compliment. He really knew how to make women feel good. Maybe I could set up a business on the side of doctoring where I hired him out to women who were feeling a little bit shitty.
“Yeah, but it’s different with us,” I said.
It was always easy between us. Not that I didn’t say the wrong thing in front of him and embarrass myself regularly—just that I knew it wouldn’t affect how he was with me.
Our connection was deeper than some silly faux pas because our families were so inextricably linked.
“We have that brother-sister thing going on.”
“We do not,” he spluttered. “That’s . . . disturbing. Especially since we’ve kissed and you just confessed to a crush on me.”
That kiss . . . “A past-tense crush. I’ve known you such a long time now . . .”
“Come on, Hartford. Do you really think of me as your brother?”
I thought about it. Joshua would always be too impossibly handsome for me to think of as my brother.
He still made me shiver when he looked at me a certain way.
I was still mesmerized by his hands, his chest, that dimple.
Now I knew him a little better, it wasn’t just the flirty confidence, the charm, and the good looks that were attractive.
He looked out for me and wanted me to succeed at my new job.
He could laugh at himself and question himself too.
On top of being gorgeous, I really enjoyed his company.
“Well, not brother exactly. More like . . . friend who’s really good at leg massage and isn’t a bad kisser?”
The dimple was back. “Don’t kid yourself. I’m a great kisser.”
That was for sure.