Page 18 of Cakewalk

“Really.”

Before she knew what she was doing, Gigi launched herself at Holden, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. Why on earth he would volunteer to do this was beyond her, but she was so excited that he was willing to help that his motives didn’t really matter. When he returned the embrace, she took a moment to relax into him, enjoying the closeness. His body was hard against hers, yet soft and welcoming. Those strong arms felt even better wrapped around her than she imagined, only adding to this moment. Bradley’s arms had never felt like this.

Coming back to her senses, she released him and took a step back, hoping that he couldn’t see her blushing. “I promise you won’t regret this!”

“That’s the part that my pants are concerned about,” he said with another laugh.

Gigi pressed her lips together, stopping herself from making some sort of quip about his pants. It was perfectly obvious that he meant gaining weight, and not something sexual, but she couldn’t help herself. That hug had knocked something loose deep inside her, and the blush she could feel creeping up her neck was more than telling. She was going to spend the rest of the night thinking about just what Holden St. James had in his pants.

8

Gigi

Sitting at the kitchen table with both their heads huddled over Holden’s tablet felt oddly natural. Like this is how they spent all their Saturday afternoons. More than once in the hour they’d been sitting here, Gigi had let her mind wander, picturing the scene as if it were some kind of Norman Rockwell painting. Is this the kind of thing she’d been missing her whole life? That maybe if she’d spent a few more Saturdays like this, just hanging out, that her life might not have gotten so far off track.

Oh, who was she kidding? This was never the track of her life. No one in her family would have ever spent a day searching for recipes and laughing about some of the names people had created for dishes. Not to mention, Bradley wouldn’t have been caught dead helping her with such a project.

“Georgia, I don’t have time for whatever silly little pet project you’re working on now,” he would have told her. “I have actual important things to focus on.”

Yeah, like schmoozing clients on the golf course…

“Earth to Gigi,” Holden said, snapping his fingers in front of her face, trying to get her attention. She hadn’t realized that she had slipped off so deeply into her own thoughts. Poor Holden must think she was a space cadet.

“Sorry, lost in thought,” she replied, smiling innocently.

“The grasshopper cake sounds easy enough, yes?” he said, acting as if he were repeating it.

“Yeah, but Bradley doesn’t really like mint, so…” she started, but then trailed off as the realization hit her. It didn’t really matter what he liked, now did it? He had absolutely no say in any of this. A spark of excitement lit inside her, and she shivered at the thought. This is why she had done all this—so she didn’t have to consider him in everything—and she liked that more than she could say. “Except he’s not here, so I guess his opinion doesn’t matter. So yes, let’s do the grasshopper!”

“How long has he been gone?” Holden asked.

“Oh, um, just a few months,” she answered. She had always known that she would be asked at some point, and she had the whole story practiced and ready. But the longer she’d been here in town without having to tell her tale, the more she thought she’d never have to.

“So you left right after he passed.”

“Well, not the split second, but shortly after. I needed out,” she answered. I needed out were the three most truthful words she’d said in a long time, and it felt good to have them out there. Even if the full weight of them was still a secret.

“How long were you married?”

“Ten years. I was just out of college when our parents introduced us. Well, ‘introduced’ maybe isn’t the right word. I knew who he was. Our families have known each other for years, but Bradley was four years older than me, so we never overlapped in school. He was one of those older guys that every girl crushed on, even though they didn’t really have any idea that we existed. Bradley had started working for my father’s investment firm while I was at Alabama, and then when I graduated, our parents thought it would be a good idea for us to ‘officially meet.’ He asked me out, and two years later we were married.”

“Sounds more like a business transaction than a love affair,” Holden murmured. Gigi’s heart sank at his words, not wanting to admit just how right he was.

“Sometimes it was in our social circles,” she said. “But not for me. I was head over heels for that man. He was good-looking and charming, had a good job. All the things a young southern socialite looks for in a husband. We were happy, at least in the beginning.”

“Things changed?”

“Don’t they always?” she shrugged. Holden’s blue eyes had a look in them she couldn’t place. It was one of concern and comfort, yet wary at the same time. She wanted to know what was going through his head, if he was really interested in knowing about her and Bradley's story or if he was just making conversation. Either way, she knew she had to be careful with what she said. As amazing as Holden was proving to be, she still wasn’t sure she could trust anyone with the truth. “But that’s all behind me now.”

“Should I be worried about who is currently sitting at my kitchen table? You’re not on the run from the law, are you?” he joked.

“No, I’m not running from the law,” she retorted. Just my abusive husband. Gigi looked Holden up and down, taking him in for what must have been the hundredth time since they sat down at this table. He seemed so trustworthy, and he’d already done so much for her. “Truth?”

“That is generally preferable.”

Keep it simple and as close to the truth as possible…she reminded herself.

“I knew my family would not be supportive of putting Bradley behind me. Of wanting to find myself and be independent. I had the chance to walk away and prove that I am more than just a pretty face and a great hostess, and I took it. But that choice is not one that everyone understands.” And it was the truth. Abbot and Marnie Shaw were not the kind of people to understand wanting to go your own way. Which was probably why they had made no effort to contact her in the weeks since she’d taken off. Or at least she assumed they had made no effort—it's not as if she left a forwarding address. However, after the embarrassment she was sure she’d caused them by disappearing the way she had, she was positive that there would be no welcome back into their good graces. If it wasn’t for her already cashed out trust fund, she had no doubt she would be completely defunded as well. “Besides, the Shaws aren’t those kind of people.”