Cakewalk

by Claire Hastings

  “Gigi, this sticky bun is incredible!” Zara said, holding her hand to her mouth to cover the bite she just took. Gigi blushed slightly, hoping that Zara took it as a reaction to the compliment, and not because she was thinking dirty thoughts about what those sticky buns had led to.

  “Thanks! I had a lot of fun playing with the recipe,” she responded, letting her mind wander back to the feel of Holden’s mouth on her for the first time. Even though they had joked about it, Gigi hadn’t made them at home since then. Maybe that was something she should do on her next day off.

  “Please sit. We have a question for you,” Audrey said, pointing to an empty chair at the table.

  “The cakes have been such a success,” Zara started. “We already have people asking if we’re going to take orders for Christmas. I hope it’s okay, I already said yes.”

  “Of course! I’m so excited people are liking them!”

  “We’ll keep it simple again, promise. That seemed to work well for Thanksgiving, plus it’ll give you time to do your own holiday baking.”

  Gigi hadn’t put any thought into holiday baking at home. She’d been so caught up in the whirlwind of her new feelings for Holden, and in having those feelings returned, that the fact that it was the Christmas season had barely registered. What did Holden do for Christmas? Would he want her to be a part of it? Was this holiday also another trigger?

  “I haven’t even gotten that far,” she laughed, waving off the idea. She made a mental note to broach the subject of the holiday when she got home. Let’s just hope it goes better than the last time we had this conversation…

  “And not to add to your plate or anything,” Audrey chimed in. “But we wanted to talk to you about maybe creating a signature item.”

  “A signature item?”

  “I’m not thinking you need to invent the next croughnut or anything, but a new flavor of cupcake or something. One you can only get at the Busy Bean.”

  “Any old family, southern recipes?” Zara suggested.

  Gigi laughed at the statement but quickly stopped herself. She’d kept everything really vague where her family history was concerned to anyone other than Holden—heck, she was still pretty vague with him—and now was not the time to reveal anything additional.

  “No, no old family recipes. I don’t exactly come from a long line of bakers,” she answered.

  “I get it. I don’t think my own mother has ever cooked anything,” Audrey told her.

  “So…will you do it? You don’t have to have the idea tomorrow. Just be thinking about what you could possibly come up with.”

  “Of course!” Gigi agreed, excited about the prospect. The idea of a new project for her and Holden in the kitchen sent a thrill through her. Just what kind of “trouble” would they be able to get up to now?

  She sat and talked with Audrey and Zara for a little while longer before returning to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the cake she’d been working on. When it was finally complete, she boxed it up, placed it in the fridge, and headed home, excited to tell Holden all about their new challenge.

  Climbing the stairs to the loft, she could hear Holden’s voice come and go as if he were on the phone. As she walked into the loft he came into view, reclining slightly in his office chair, laptop open in front of him, phone pressed to his ear.

  “Arriving on the twenty-fourth works. We can take care of the tree and all that beforehand, so don’t even worry about it,” he said into the phone. Looking up at her as she stopped right next to him, he ran a hand softly up and down her thigh in greeting, sending shivers up her spine.

  Twisting a bit to look at his laptop, Gigi saw an open Word document, but what really caught her attention was that today it wasn’t blank. Had Holden actually written today? She turned back to look at him, her brow furrowed, but a smile tugging at her lips. The smile on his face told her that he knew what she was thinking, and that he couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.

  “I don’t know, I haven’t asked her yet,” he told whomever he was speaking to. A wicked grin replaced his knowing smile, and he threw a mischievous wink her way, still rubbing her thigh. “But if you let me get off the phone, I can do just that, and then we can plan from there. Sound good?” He paused, muffled sounds coming from the other end of the line. “Okay, bye, Mom. Love you too.”

  Tapping the end button on his phone, he tossed it onto the desk and turned his attention fully to her.

  “Hi.” He hauled her into his lap, and she let out a little shriek before laughing. Capturing her laughter with kisses, Holden squeezed her tight.

  “Hi back,” she answered. “I take it that was your mom?”

  “It was,” he nodded.

  “What did she want?”

  “She was calling about Christmas, trying to figure out what the plan is.”

  “And what is the plan?” Gigi asked, trying to not make it seem like she was at the edge of her seat with curiosity. This conversation was already night and day compared to how the Thanksgiving one had gone, and it made her that much more anxious to know the answers. The idea of spending Christmas here with Holden was something she hadn’t realized she wanted until now.

  “Well, that depends on you,” he said, his eyes full of emotion.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. GeorgiaGrace Hawthorne, will you spend Christmas with me?”

  Holden

  Gigi’s eyes went wide as Holden asked her the question that had been brewing in him for the last couple of days, making his heart skip a beat. Oh fuck, was that the wrong question?

  “Really?” she asked in return, her voice just above a whisper.

  “Yes, really,” he told her. How could she think otherwise? “I want you to experience Christmas at Montgomery Manor in all its glory.”

  “You make it sound like it’s a big to-do,” she giggled.

  “Oh, Christmas here, with my family, is a big to-do. Other than a few years when I was abroad and we couldn't make it back, I have spent every Christmas of my life in this house. And every year we would drive out to this little tree farm and pick out a tree, and then bring it home and decorate it. And by ‘we,’ I mean all five of us squeezed into my mom’s station wagon. On Christmas Eve, dinner was really just a snackfest with all sorts of appetizers, dips, and cookies and such, and we’d sit by the fire while my dad and Uncle Field read A Christmas Carol. Christmas morning was a flurry of presents and laughter. Shortly after that, the men were kicked out so the ladies could make Christmas dinner. We’d usually end up outside kicking around a soccer ball. After dinner, there was either more reading or sometimes we would watch a movie.”

  “Sounds amazing!” Gigi gushed. “You must have some wonderful memories!”

  “I do. What about you? What was Christmas like for the Shaws?”

  “You know, I don’t really have a lot of memories of Christmas as a little kid. I’m sure Santa came, but there weren’t any special family traditions or anything. Our cook was given the day off, so we would go to the country club for Christmas dinner, usually with another family my parents were friends with or one of my dad's clients. After that, we all just came home and did our own thing,” she sighed. “I love that you guys picked out your own tree! Ours just always appeared, set up and decorated while I was at school.”

  “You’ve never decorated a Christmas tree?”

  “Nope. Even after I got married, Bradley was insistent that was something we hired people to do. The tree had to be perfect looking, like something out of a magazine, in case clients came over. I was always jealous of the trees I saw with handmade ornaments, or the ones you could buy at the mall and have your names put on them. I bought one for our tree the first Christmas after we were married and secretly put it on the tree in a spot I thought no one would see it. But the next day it was gone, and I never saw it again.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her in close. His heart ached thinking about how she didn’t have happy Christmas memor
ies. Just one more thing to add to his list of things to take care of for her. “What do you say? Spend Christmas with me and my family?”

  “Of course!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing. He shifted in his chair, making sure she didn’t fall out of his lap, squeezing her back just as tightly. “Christmas isn’t a trigger for you like Thanksgiving?”

  “It’s not. I guess maybe because it was already a St. James-Montgomery family thing, and Thanksgiving was a Hannah thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been hard, but we won’t have a repeat of the flying turkey,” he promised. He hated that she was worried about that, even if she didn’t voice the concern, but he loved that her first thought was of him and his feelings. She had one of the biggest hearts he’d ever known, and he was incredibly grateful to have worked his way into it. “My mom says that since the kitchen is yours now, that dinner is your call. She’s all about helping but doesn’t want to step on toes.”

  “I would love her help! I’ve never done it, and I have no idea even where to start.”

  “She’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

  Gigi twisted toward the desk, eyeing the laptop. He’d wondered how long it would take for her to notice that. Prior to his mom’s call, this had been the most productive afternoon he’d had in a long time. Probably years. The idea had struck him while he was out on his morning run, and by the time he’d finished his shower, he couldn’t get up to the loft and the keyboard fast enough. It was as if the flood gates had been opened, spilling years of pent-up energy and words. It all flowed through him in a way that it never had before. The only difference now was the stunning creature currently occupying this chair with him.

  “What’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the screen.

  “That, is almost seven thousand words,” he told her, feeling pretty proud of himself.

  “Holy cow! That’s a lot!” she said, looking back at the screen and then returning her focus to him. “That is a lot, right?”

  “Depends on the author, but generally speaking, yes. Seven thousand words in a day is a lot. For me, it’s a shit-ton.”

  “Holden, that’s amazing!” The joy that spread across her face tugged at his heart, making him even happier about the day he had.

  “Well, for all I know they are shitty words, but at least they are words. Step in the right direction.”

  “So, your muse is back?”

  “I think I have a new one.” He wanted to tell her that she was the reason he was writing again, and that she was the inspiration for each and every one of those seven thousand words. But he also didn’t want to come on too strong.

  “Willing to share her?” she asked.

  “Ummmm, threesomes aren’t really my thing, sweetheart…” he joked.

  She smacked his chest playfully with the back of her hand while sticking her tongue out at him, like she was a kid on the playground. “Not what I meant!”

  “Why do you need her?”

  “Zara and Audrey asked me to come up with a signature item for the Busy Bean,” she answered with a heavy sigh. Holden watched as her shoulders slumped and her entire demeanor changed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “You said that once before, sweetheart, and you landed on your feet pretty quick. You’ve come a long way. Don’t give up now.”

  “But I need something fun and clever. Something that will stand out!”

  “Call Hunnie—I’m sure she has all sorts of weird and out-there ideas. Maybe that will spark something. And once you two have concocted some crazy cupcake, you and I will head to the kitchen and make them.”

  “You don’t mind another kitchen project?”

  “Mind? Sweetheart, I look forward to it. It’s kind of our thing.”

  “You spoil me, you know that?” she asked, leaning in so their foreheads were touching.

  Holden closed his eyes and inhaled her sweet smell and savored the feel of her body against his. He was the one who was spoiled, having someone like her just dropped in his lap. As crazy as it probably sounded to anyone else, he really was starting to believe that Hannah had sent him Gigi. How else could it have worked out so perfectly? She was everything he needed, and he hoped she was falling just as hard as he was.

  “It’s not spoiling you to give you what you deserve, sweetheart. And you deserve to be cherished and adored. I’m just grateful that I get to be the man in charge of that.”

  18

  Gigi

  “But my real question is, did he taste your sticky bun,” Hunnie said, a teasing lilt to her voice.

  “Hunnie!” Gigi exclaimed, quickly picking up her phone from the counter, turning off the speaker and placing it between her ear and shoulder. Her heart sped up as she looked around her to make sure she was still alone in the kitchen, trying not to make a mess with the last of the batter she was pouring into the cupcake liners.

  “What? Had I realized that my creation was going to be the push you needed, I would have given it to you sooner,” she said, completely ignoring Gigi’s embarrassment. “I wonder if I could market it as a love potion?”

  Gigi simply shook her head, laughing at her friend’s reaction. This was not the road she had meant to go down when she called Hunnie to give her the sticky bun recipe and get her opinion on fun cupcake ideas. But like any conversation between girlfriends, they’d gotten sidetracked and even after almost thirty minutes of talking, hadn’t found their way back.

  Not that Gigi minded talking about Holden. He was her new favorite subject after all. Just the thought of him made her all melty inside, and she found herself thinking about him a lot. But it wasn’t just the sex—which for the first time in her life, she was really enjoying—it was everything about him. He was thoughtful, kind, and considerate in everything they did. They spent their evenings cuddled on the couch, reading or watching movies, and it didn’t seem to matter to him whether or not they did more than snuggle. He was just as interested in her mind as he was her body. He was everything her husband hadn’t been, and no part of her was taking a single second for granted.

  She also loved having a girlfriend to talk to about all this. None of her friends in Atlanta would have ever gushed about men or sex this way, and it was incredibly refreshing to be able to talk about it with someone who was not uptight about the subject. College was probably the last time Gigi had taken part in a conversation like this, but even then, she wasn't sure if she’d ever met someone as laid-back and open as Hunnie was. The old Gigi would have written off this eccentric little woman and moved on without thought. New Gigi, however, couldn’t imagine what she would have done if she hadn’t stumbled across her that night at the festival.

  “What would your tag line be? Drizzle a little of this on his muffin and he’ll come running?” she commented, sliding the muffin tray into the oven and setting the timer.

  “Men don’t have muffins. You’d need to drizzle it on his churro, add in a few long licks, and coming will be exactly what he does…”

  Gigi let out a snort so loud it seemed to reverberate off the cabinets. Sucking in a large gulp of air, she tried to catch her breath, but no matter what she did, she burst into giggles all over again.

  “It wasn’t that funny,” Hunnie responded, still giggling herself.

  Wiping away the tears that were forming in her eyes, Gigi looked up to see Holden appear in the kitchen, giving her a strange look. She held up a finger to indicate that she’d be just a moment, returning her attention to her conversation. She managed to stop laughing long enough to hang up with Hunnie, before she felt Holden come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck. The giggles started up again as his beard tickled her. She was still amazed at how soft it was and had almost started to crave the feel of it on her skin.

  “Do I dare ask what all the giggles were about?” he asked, his nose still buried in the crook of her neck.

  “Just chatting with Hunnie. We were throwing around ideas for a signature cupcake,” she told him
, not wanting to go into too much detail. She had no idea how he would feel knowing that she talked about their relationship with Hunnie. Had he mentioned her to anyone? Based on their conversation the other day, his family knew she was in the picture as more than just a renter now, but just how much had he told them?

  “What did you come up with?”

  “Not a whole lot. She thinks I should create a uniquely southern cupcake, which is a great thought, but I have no idea what that really means,” she said as she measured out the needed amounts of powdered sugar, butter, and cream into a mixing bowl for the frosting.

  “What was your favorite dish from your favorite restaurant back in Atlanta?”

  “That’s easy. Shrimp and grits from Pittypat’s Porch!”

  “Not something that anyone would want in a cupcake,” he commented, handing her the electric hand mixer from the cabinet.

  Gigi scrunched her face in disgust. As much as she loved shrimp and grits, they were the opposite palate she was trying to cater to with the signature item. She wanted to help the Busy Bean, not put it out of business.

  “Oh! But maybe an idea for Christmas?”

  “Shrimp and grits?”

  “Yeah. Maybe even give them a little Cajun flare for Caulfield? Would he like that?”

  “He would love that,” Holden told her, leaning back against the cabinets watching her work. She wiggled her hips a little, letting the skirt she was wearing dance against her legs. The blue knee-length skirt with white polka dots wasn’t exactly winter in New England appropriate, but she’d woken up wanting to feel pretty and since she knew she wasn’t leaving the house, she figured why not. The way Holden was staring at her in it, the idea seemed to be paying off.

  “I’m really at a loss for what else to make. I mean, what do you cook for a legend?”