Must Love Frosting: Must Love Diamonds Series, Book 1

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  She jerked her head up, resentment blazing in her eyes.

  Shit. Wrong thing to say.

  “I don’t want your money, Asher. I don’t need a man to bail me out.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Confusion and frustration swirled inside his chest, and he scrambled for a substitute solution that wouldn’t piss her off and offend her independence. “I was going to say, I could put together a brochure for you, like the one for the climbing school. You could use them for promo.”

  Her expression relaxed, though a slight frown remained with her nod. “Sorry I jumped on you.”

  He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but in reality, he hated that he couldn’t use his resources to take the pressure off of her shoulders. How ironic that he’d always wanted a woman who didn’t want his money, and now that he had one, all he wanted to do was offer it to her. Ease her worries, make her happy.

  Or are you simply trying to play hero so she has no choice but to fall in love with you? A knight in shining armor, riding to the rescue.

  Well, that would be idiotic, wouldn’t it?

  After they finished eating and were putting the leftovers away in the kitchen, he asked, “You want to watch a movie, or catch up on a couple episodes of That 70’s Show?”

  She handed over the last container of fried rice. “I, um…I think I’m going to head back to my place.”

  There it was again. He gripped the handle of the refrigerator door as he closed it and faced her. The look on her face tightened the knots in his stomach once more. He clenched his jaw against his rising anxiety. “What’s going on?”

  “I just prefer to head home,” she said defensively.

  “Honor, at least be honest with me. If you’re mad about the brochure, I don’t have to—”

  “I’m not mad about the brochure.”

  “Then what is it? Because after this past month, it seems to me we should be way past the point where me offering to help is offensive. Whether it’s a brochure or even money.”

  “And I told you, I don’t want your money. My business is exactly that—my business.”

  “Of course it is, and it always will be. But in general, I’m going to do things for you. And I’m going to buy things for you, and I don’t think I should have to feel bad for that.”

  “Then don’t and you won’t have to feel bad,” she retorted with a frown.

  “That was so not my point.” He blew out a sigh and raked a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. “This is going the wrong direction, and I don’t even know that we’re talking about the right thing. You’ve been pulling away since you got here.”

  Guilt flashed in her eyes before she averted her gaze. His stomach lurched as he waited for her to explain, but she turned her back, one hand braced on his island counter. He fisted his hands against rising fear.

  “Honor. This is where we work on things together. Make sure we’re both on the same page so it’s not—”

  “This isn’t going to work,” she interrupted.

  “—so scary.”

  She swiped a hand over her cheeks as her shoulders rose with a deep inhale. “I need to go home because I can’t do this.”

  As she took a step forward, he stuffed down a surge of panic and gently caught her shoulders. “Hey. Whoa. Let’s talk this out first.”

  After a moment of resisting his hold, she relented and let him turn her around. The tears in her eyes squeezed his heart to the point it hurt to draw in a breath.

  He pulled her into his arms, holding tight as he pressed her cheek against his chest. “It’s okay. Everything is fine. We’re fine.”

  And for a moment, he believed it. She was warm and pliant in his arms, her weight leaning against him in complete trust. He stroked her hair before pressing his lips to the top of her head, his racing heartbeat easing.

  In the next breath, she stiffened and pushed away while raising her anguished gaze to his. “I told you from the start this wouldn’t work out.”

  “What’s not working out?”

  “This.” She waved her hand back and forth in the space between them. “You and me.”

  Chest tight, he caught her hand and tugged her closer. He needed her back in his arms. When she was in his arms, what they had together overrode the doubt. She held back once again, but he kept hold of her hand.

  “You and me are working great, Honor. I know you’ve felt it as much as I have. The past month has been amazing.”

  “It has been, but it’s not going to last.”

  “Says who?”

  “Everyone I know.”

  “I’m not saying that,” he countered. “I’m saying the exact opposite of that.”

  She huffed out a sigh of exasperation. “You know what I meant.”

  “No, I really don’t. Who says it’s not going to last?”

  “My family. My friends. Your parents.”

  “I don’t give a shit what anyone else says—”

  “It’s not what they literally say, it’s what’s happened in their lives. It’s right there for anyone to see, plain as day.”

  “We aren’t them. This is about you and me, no one else. And I say we’ve got years and years ahead of us.”

  “Because you’re a long-haul guy. That’s not me.”

  She was back to avoiding his gaze, her voice sad and heartbroken. As if she wanted what she was convinced she couldn’t have. It illuminated the distinction of her saying she couldn’t do this, not that she didn’t want to do this.

  “You can be. It’s all up to you and what you want.”

  “It’s not a matter of what I want, it’s what is.”

  The revelation in that sentence broke his heart. Hopeless.

  “You want to know what is? Look at me.” When her green gaze rose to his, his heart damn near beat out of his chest. He squeezed her hand with a gentle smile. “I love you.”

  Panic filled her expression. She yanked her hand free with a shake of her head. Stepping back out of his reach, she said, “You can’t love me.”

  “But I do,” he said firmly. “With all my heart.”

  “You can’t,” she repeated, her voice trembling like a frightened, cornered animal. “You’re supposed to be on guy-time.”

  “What the hell is guy-time?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve known from the beginning where I stood on all this.”

  “You mean how you’ve felt about love?”

  She nodded.

  “Funny thing about that, you’ve never actually said it.” She took a breath to speak, but he held up his hand. “There was the whole hypothetical conversation early on, but never once have you said out loud to me that you don’t believe in love.”

  Her brows dipped, her expression uncertain.

  “My theory is, it’s not that you don’t believe in love. You just haven’t known what it was until now—what it is. You haven’t seen it and experienced it for yourself. But now that you have, don’t you see you don’t have to be afraid?”

  “I’m not afraid,” she argued. “I’m realistic. Nothing lasts. Things get screwed up and then it’s over.”

  “Not always.”

  “Almost always.”

  He tilted his head slightly to try a different angle. “Hasn’t this felt different for you? At the beginning, I had to fight what I felt for you because I thought you were engaged. And once I found out you weren’t, denying what’s between us was as impossible as not breathing. I’ve never had that with anyone before you.”

  Her wide gaze met his, and he swore he saw a flicker of the hope that had been missing before. But when he moved toward her, her expression closed off, and she backed up.

  Sonofabitch.

  “There are exceptions, Honor. You even said so yourself.”

  “Not in my family.”

  “In my family, there are. My grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and despite the mess right now, even my parents. We could be an exc
eption, too. We are the exception for your family.”

  She shook her head. “No. I told you.”

  She was so adamant, his voice rose in frustration. “You’re so damn scared you won’t even try to see what’s right in front of you.”

  “I’m not scared,” she almost shouted. “Stop telling me what I am. I know what I am.”

  “You’re realistic?”

  “Exactly.” His sarcasm went right over her head as she stated, “Hartman’s don’t do love. It’s not in our DNA.”

  “Do you hear how stupid that sounds?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Wow. Nice.”

  “Hey, I’m just being honest. I’ve been nothing but honest with you the whole time.”

  “So have I. You knew where I stood.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve said stood,” he pointed out.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Stand. You know where I stand.”

  She was like fucking Roxanna, unable to admit when she was wrong. And she was so damn wrong right now.

  “What I know is you’re lying to yourself. You do believe, or at the very least you want to believe, but you’re too afraid to love someone because it’s all about taking a God-awful risk.”

  Her gaze flicked away, and he softened his tone.

  “It’s worth it, Honor, I promise. I’m right here in front of you, and I’m not going anywhere. All you have to do is trust your heart. What we have can last as long as we want it to. I believe that with every fiber of my being.” His breath hitched at the next part, but he forced the words out. “Which leaves it up to you. Do you want it to last or are you too afraid to even try?”

  In the silence of her telling pause, the truth stabbed deep into his soul. This was what Rox had meant with her cryptic text. Don’t push her. It hadn’t been about the trip. It was about this, right here.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t take back his words, and he was reminded of the first day he saw the beautiful, stubborn woman in front of him. Standing on the lawn as her client kneeled in front of her, he’d thought a woman madly in love shouldn’t look away from her lover’s eyes—or the ring—when he was on one knee offering her the rest of his life.

  He didn’t have a ring, and he wasn’t on one knee, but the offer of the rest of his life was just as potent. And Honor was staring at the door as if she couldn’t wait to get out of his house and his life forever.

  “What people want isn’t always what’s best, Asher.” Her raw, raspy voice dropped to a choked whisper. “This is the way it has to be.”

  Then she ripped out his heart and walked out the door.

  CHAPTER 31

  Honor shoved the bowl of yellow batter out of reach in frustrated dismay. No matter what she did, no matter how she adjusted the ingredients, it didn’t taste right. Nothing she’d baked the past week had tasted right, so this time she’d pulled out the recipe she hadn’t used in over four years to make sure she wasn’t accidentally forgetting something.

  There wasn’t a damn thing missing from the recipe.

  The only ingredient missing was…Asher.

  Better now than later.

  Her heart squeezed hard, intensifying the constant ache that had plagued her since she’d walked away from him. A moment later, she realized she was staring out the window at his house. Again.

  A dozen times a day she found herself doing the same thing, longing for a glimpse of him. She’d check her phone to see if he’d sent a text before she remembered it was over. Then she got pissed off that he hadn’t texted. Or called. Or walked across the street to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her.

  But that proved her point, didn’t it? If he really did love her, wouldn’t he try harder? Or simply, um, try in the first place?

  Instead he’d disappeared, and she’d found out from Roxanna he’d left early for the job in Wyoming.

  She shouldn’t care. She tried so hard not to, yet her emotions alternated between bursting into tears at the drop of a spatula and being angry when the littlest thing went wrong—like another batch of batter tasting like crap. Nights were the hardest, when she had nothing to distract her heart as she lay in bed alone, remembering the heat of him wrapped around her, whispered conversations in the dark, the sound of his voice, the touch of his lips.

  Breaking things off had made total sense in her head. If she missed him this much now, imagine the devastation further down the road at the inevitable end. It was definitely better now than later—for both of them. She was saving him the heartache as much as she was saving herself.

  Do you hear how stupid that sounds?

  Yeah, that was her heart telling her head she was as stupid as Asher had said.

  But the heart wasn’t any smarter than the mind. He’d told her to trust her heart. Years of watching her mother do that very thing proved following one’s heart led to foolish choices and unhappy consequences.

  Better now than later.

  She wondered how many more times she’d have to say those words before her foolish heart believed them. As she turned away from the window, she noticed a metallic silver Mercedes slowing down to pull into Asher’s driveway. She recognized Janine Diamond exiting the luxury car, dressed in a fashionable white pants suit and heeled, red sandals. The woman walked to her son’s front door and rang the doorbell, then removed her sunglasses to scan the neighborhood, her black leather bag clutched to her side.

  Honor frowned a minute later when she moved to sit in one of Asher’s front porch chairs as if to wait. Did she not know he was away for work?

  “Not my business,” she muttered, forcing herself to turn from the window.

  Another taste of the batter on the counter prompted a frustrated growl, and she went to go get a load of laundry from the dryer. She forced herself to fold it and put everything away, but once back in her living room, she couldn’t help another look out the window. Mrs. Diamond was still sitting on the porch, her cell phone in hand.

  She hadn’t seen or spoken to Asher’s mother since the night of the anniversary party. With the upheaval in his family, they hadn’t done anything with them while they were together. And he hadn’t met her family at all, though she’d been forced to tell Glory about him when her sister and friends made their monthly trip to Lift Your Spirit and discovered her cupcakes in the shop. This morning, she’d had to tell Glory it was over already. She may have even cried, but pretended she’d stubbed her toe.

  Another glimpse out the window twenty minutes later took her out the door and across the street before she thought about what she was doing. By then, it was too late because the woman had spotted her. Halfway up the driveway, it dawned on her maybe his mom was waiting because she knew Asher was on his way home.

  Her heart thumped hard at the possibility of seeing him face to face. But it was a surge of hope that left her mouth dry, not dread.

  “Honor?”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Diamond. I noticed you sitting over here and wanted to make sure everything is all right?”

  “It’s Janine, please.” The woman glanced across the street to her house. “I had forgotten Asher mentioned you two are neighbors. I came to talk to him, but he doesn’t seem to be home, and he’s not answering his phone or texts.”

  “As far as I know, Asher is in Wyoming for a photo shoot.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment weighted the word, and her shoulders drooped. “That’s right. I forgot about that, too.”

  Despite the flawless makeup and not a dark hair out of place, the strain of the past month was evident in the lines around the older woman’s eyes and her subdued tone. “You’ve been dealing with a lot the last few weeks.”

  Janine averted her gaze, her lips pressed together as sadness and distress chased across her features. A lump of sympathy swelled in her throat, and Honor found she wanted to give the woman a huge, comforting hug. Like the night Asher had come home after seeing his half-brother for the first time.

  That ache in her chest sharpened once more, and suddenly she he
ard herself say, “Would you like to come over for a cup of coffee?”

  Now you’re just torturing yourself with any connection to him.

  The offer came out of nowhere. She hadn’t expected to make it, but couldn’t retract it. All she could hope is the woman would politely decline and be on her way.

  “Oh, thank you. That would be nice,” Janine said as she rose.

  Cringe-worthy small talk about the weather made the walk back to Honor’s house feel like a mile because she didn’t know what else to talk about. She didn’t want to ask about the governor’s campaign because of the family scandal. She couldn’t ask about Celia’s wedding, because last she’d heard they’d decided to postpone it because of the divide between her parents. She did want to ask about Asher, but didn’t know if the woman knew she and Asher had broken up, or even that they’d been dating in the first place.

  So…the weather morphed to talk of where she did her baking as they approached her front door. The sound of a car turning into her driveway brought Honor around. She frowned in confusion when her own mother parked her red BMW from husband number three.

  Had she forgotten to put a lunch date on the calendar? She didn’t think so, but even if she had, it was only eleven a.m. and that certainly didn’t explain why her mom was walking up the sidewalk with a bottle of tequila.

  “Mom? I didn’t know you were coming over.” With tequila.

  She stuck a heavily-jeweled hand on her jean capris clad hip, the bracelets around her wrist clinking. “What else am I going to do when I find out my girl’s got a broken heart?”

  “What?” She tried to scoff, but suddenly her pulse was racing and her eyes burning. “Where did you get that idea?”

  “Glory called me.”

  Snitch.

  “Come on, now. We’re going to get drunk and cry it out.” Before she could protest how much she hated this ritual, her mom moved around her. As she opened the door, she tossed her blond curls over her shoulder and gave Asher’s mom a sweeping glance. “Hello. I’m Camilla Burns.”