Truly, Madly, Sweetly (Sweet Love) Page 6

  She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her face. She had to get out of there. Before he woke up sober and she found out how he really felt about last night. She didn’t think she could handle it if he opened his eyes and instantly regretted what had been the greatest sex of her life. One more reason to be grateful she wasn’t tied to Steve for the rest of her life. She would have never found out just how good sex could be.

  Eric sighed and burrowed farther into his pillow. Nat waited a few moments to be sure he wasn’t waking up and then slipped out from under his arm as slowly and quietly as she could. The second her feet hit the floor she scurried around the room, gathering her clothes. She looked in vain for her bra and finally decided to abandon it. Her breasts would survive the quick walk home.

  Nat closed her eyes again, dreading the walk of shame, as they always called it in the movies. She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. Not that Eric was a one-night stand. No, he was just someone she’d have to see at work every day for the foreseeable future. She threw her clothes on, doing her best to straighten her hair and clean up any makeup smudges. A rustling of sheets from the bedroom had her bolting down the stairs. She paused briefly to stare openmouthed at Eric’s home. Damn. Gelato must do well for himself.

  The faint sound of “Mamma Mia” coming from the bedroom had her moving. She briefly considered leaving a note but had no freaking clue what she’d say.

  Hi. Thanks for the screw. See you at work. Buh-bye.

  Only…it had been so much more than that. To her at least. But probably not to him. They didn’t even know each other. And she wasn’t the type of girl guys stuck around for. More like the type they ditched as soon as they’d taken what they wanted. She’d learned that the hard way. Nat inwardly groaned and eased out the front door, closing it as quietly as she could. She’d call him later. Once she’d had a chance to figure out what in the hell to say. Or maybe she’d just text him. That would be easier.

  Right now she had bigger problems. Facing Gina. She was never going to live this down.

  She’d only gotten a block when her phone buzzed. She sighed and pulled her phone out, glancing at the text coming through. Eric. Wondering where she was. Nat chewed on her lip and hurried down the street, ignoring the “I know what you did last night” glances at her disheveled club dress she got from the people she passed. She looked back at Eric’s text. She had to say something.

  Sorry, supposed to meet Gina this morning. Didn’t want to wake you.

  I wouldn’t have minded.

  “No, but I would have,” Nat mumbled.

  Am I going to see you today?

  Nat hesitated, not sure how to respond. Did she want to see him? Yes. If she was honest with herself. Yes. She wanted very much to see him. And she couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her that he’d asked to see her. But would it be a mistake? Hell yes. An even bigger mistake than last night had been. Besides, he was probably just asking because he felt like he should. He seemed like a decent guy. He was probably just trying to be nice.

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it. It had probably been the best night in her life. She’d never allowed herself to be so free and unrestrained. She’d never been affected by any man as much as she’d been by Eric. Her Mr. Gelato. He’d completely rocked her world. She’d never quite understood that expression until last night. Not that she had all that much experience with that sort of thing. But the other men she’d been with had never come close to completely shattering her, the way Eric did with the smallest touch, the slightest glance in her direction. Her insides were still quivering, her legs still as weak as two pillars of gelatin.

  But it was never a good idea to mix business and pleasure. Right? Wasn’t that also a saying? So it must be true. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a saying. She should care about all that. Right? But she really just wanted to see him again.

  Sure :)

  Excellent—when and where?

  Nat tried to keep a smile from breaking out but couldn’t quite manage it. Where would be a good spot to meet? They could go to one of her favorite spots, but it was a little on the romantic side, cozy and secluded. But hell, they had just spent the night together. A little romance really wasn’t out of the question.

  There’s this romantic little bistro not too far from my building. We could meet there…one o’clock?

  Nat waited for a response. Five minutes had never felt so long. She should have picked someplace else. He was probably completely freaking out over the “romantic” bit. Maybe he thought she thought they were in a relationship now or something. Or maybe he was just after a quick repeat of last night and here she was getting all lovey-dovey. She definitely shouldn’t have said romantic. He was probably freaking out…

  Shit. Sorry, Nat. I just realized what day it was. I’ve got a lunch date I have to go to.

  But she couldn’t stop a twinge of jealousy from slapping at her. She was being ridiculous. For all she knew it was with some eighty-year-old blue-haired lady with false teeth and cataracts. That thought made her feel marginally better. Fine. Whatever. Blow it off and play it cool. Nat blew a breath out, fluttering her bangs out of her face, and texted Eric back.

  No problem. Crazy busy today, anyway. Huge cupcake order to fill for a party.

  I’m really sorry. I’m meeting with my parents. Business talk. I’d rather take a nice, long lunch with you.

  Nat smiled, despite herself. Well, she couldn’t really blame him. Business and parents—definitely impossible to get out of.

  Go be a good little financial consultant. I’ll see you next Monday.

  That’s an awfully long time from now.

  Nat grinned, trying and failing to tamp down the happiness flooding through her. It had been one day and already her emotions were playing yo-yo. Lovely.

  It’s only a few days. Party time is over, Gelato. Go to work.

  What the hell was she doing? She was flirting with him.

  Fine. But I’ll text you later tonight.

  If you must.

  I must. Have a good day, Cupcake.

  Nat tucked her phone away, no longer caring that she was walking down the street in last night’s dress, grinning like a fool.

  Her smile faded the second she walked into her apartment and came face to face with Gina.

  “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask how last night went,” Gina said, smirking.

  Nat dropped her stuff on the floor and flopped onto the couch with a groan. “I’m so screwed.”

  Gina snorted. “I bet you are.”

  Nat chucked a pillow at her. “That’s not what I meant!”

  “Oh, what, so you’re telling me you didn’t get laid last night?”

  Nat just buried her face back in the couch and Gina laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? I just slept with the guy I’m supposed to be working for, or with, or whatever.”

  “It’s not like the guy is your boss, Nat.”

  “I know, but still.”

  Gina shrugged. “So you had one night of fun. It doesn’t have to be a big deal unless you make it one. As long as it doesn’t happen again, you’re fine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is the guy that owns the bakery you are going to be using. The guy that wants the parking spot that belongs to you. Things might be great now, but what happens when it’s not so great? Are you going to lose the kitchen time? Will he be a pain over the whole garage situation? Last night was one thing. You guys had a little too much to drink maybe, got a little carried away, had a mutually fun night. End of story.”

  “He wanted to see me today.”

  Gina’s eyes narrowed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to,” Nat said. Gina’s eyes narrowed further. “He’s got a business lunch with his parents.”

  “All right then. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m g
lad you got a little somethin’ last night. About damn time, if you ask me. And it was special circumstances. If he tries to make it more…well, how do you know he’s not just doing it to get on your good side?”

  Nat hugged a cushion to her chest. Gina was right. It hurt more than Nat liked to admit, but it was true.

  “Come on, Natty Bear. Go get cleaned up. We’ve got a shit-ton of cupcakes to bake.”

  …

  “Oh come on, dude. You’ve got to give me more details than that.”

  Eric’s eyes narrowed, his patience with Jared dwindling quickly. Not that he’d ever been big on kissing and telling, but for some reason his friend wanting to hear details about Natalie really rubbed him the wrong way.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” he insisted.

  “Right. You sure about that?” Jared was staring at something near the ceiling.

  Eric glared at Jared’s smug tone but followed his gaze, his heart rate kicking up a notch when he saw Nat’s lacy black bra hanging from the light fixture above the dining table. How the hell had that gotten up there? He climbed on a chair and yanked it down, shoving it in his pocket.

  “Not a word,” he warned Jared.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Eric glared at him again, but while Jared’s amusement remained, he didn’t say anything else.

  “So when are you going to see her again?”

  “Next Monday.”

  Jared’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Monday, huh? So I guess last night didn’t go so well, after all.” Jared held up his hands and ducked as the remote went whizzing by his head. “I’m just saying…she snuck out of here before you woke up and now she doesn’t want to see you until you start working together? Seems a little suspicious doesn’t it?”

  “She didn’t want to wake me up, probably thought I’d be hungover. And we were going to make plans, but I’ve got to meet my parents.”

  Eric did have a nice little headache forming, but the cause of that was more Jared-related than booze-related.

  “Sure. Or maybe she just wanted to make sure she was on your good side and thought a little something on the side might make it a little easier to get what she wants.”

  Eric frowned. “And what would that be?”

  “Seriously? She just inherited a garage. Next to a bakery. And she, unlike you, actually knows what to do with one of those.”

  “So what, you don’t think she’ll be content to just show me how to run it and then walk away?”

  Jared shrugged. “I’m not saying she pimped herself out for a share in the bakery or anything. But it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.”

  Eric’s frown deepened, the residual endorphins from last night beginning to dissipate.

  Eric headed for his room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He closed his door before Jared could offer up any other helpful suggestions. He wished he could totally blow off Jared’s concerns, but the thought had dug its claws in his brain. He kicked the shower on, his mind running over every moment of the previous night. And he remembered every single one in vivid detail. In fact, if he didn’t stop remembering he was going to need to blast the cold water. No. Last night wasn’t about using him or getting something from him. It was so much more than that. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

  But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be careful. She definitely had her guard up, and until he figured out how to get past it, it wouldn’t hurt to play it safe. For now. In the meantime, he had bigger problems. His parents would be waiting for him at their favorite restaurant for their monthly lunch date. Eric was pretty sure his mother really did just want to spend time with him, but his father’s motives for the monthly check-ins weren’t nearly as paternal. They felt more like human resources reviews. The CEO keeping tabs on the little employees, making sure everyone was doing the job assigned to them.

  Eric ignored the slight twinge of guilt at that thought. He knew his dad meant well. And he owed his parents a lot. They’d sent him to the best schools, made sure he always had the best opportunities. They’d footed all the bills and done what they could to set him up for a great life. Resenting them for that triggered a therapy-worthy guilt trip. He knew they just wanted the best for him. But the only reason he had been allowed the few choices he’d made on his own was because those choices had been ones he’d known his family would approve. What would happen when they didn’t approve?

  He was about to find out. Somehow, he didn’t think running a bakery was on his father’s list of sanctioned occupations.

  An hour later, he sat looking back and forth between his parents as they digested the news he’d just shared. His mother frowned slightly and glanced worriedly at her husband. Jerry Schneider wiped his mouth with his linen napkin and laid it calmly beside his plate before leaning back in his chair and pinning his son with his most penetrating gaze. The one that had kept Eric in line since he was in diapers.

  “Let me make sure I understand this correctly.”

  Eric took a deep breath as unobtrusively as possible. He’d never openly defied his father before. But it might have been too much to hope that his dad would just shake his hand and give him his blessing.

  “You’re walking away from a promising career at our investment firm in order to open a…bakery?”

  “No, I’m not walking away from anything. Just yet. I’ve got some vacation time saved up. I’ll still have my job to fall back on if the bakery doesn’t work out.”

  “Son, you know nothing about running any sort of business, let alone a bakery.”

  “That’s not true. I do have an MBA, so I know the basics. And I’m not doing it alone.”

  “You’ve taken on a partner?”

  “Of a sort.”

  His father’s frown deepened, concern etched across his face. “Explain.”

  “Aunt Franny’s will left the bakery to me, but left the garage to someone else.”

  “What? What nonsense. What are you talking about?”

  “She left the garage to her tenant, a woman named Natalie Moran. Natalie is a baker. She owns a mobile cupcakery. She’s agreed to help me get the bakery up and running.”

  “A mobile cupcakery? You mean she’s one of those food truck people that are parked over by the train station?” His father gave a short, humorless laugh. “Really son, I thought we’d raised you to be smarter than this. So what, she’s just decided to help you out of the goodness of her heart? Please tell me you aren’t that naive.”

  “No. We’ve worked out an arrangement to our mutual benefit.”

  “Um-hmm. Is she pretty?”

  “Jerry,” his mother broke in, her tone faintly chiding.

  “Oh come on, Miranda. We both know our son doesn’t always have the best head on his shoulders when it comes to women. How much money have his poor choices in companions cost us over the years, eh? There was the one that wanted money for that charity she was running, and the last one cost the family a million-dollar investment in her internet start-up—”

  “Which is doing well enough to turn you a profit now,” Eric reminded his dad, who ignored him.

  “And let us not forget the gag money we had to pay to that reporter to keep your name out of the paper when that waitress you were so sure was “the one” got arrested for drug possession.”

  Eric tried not to squirm. No one liked being reminded of their dumb mistakes. “That was a long time ago, Dad.”

  “Not long enough.”

  Eric took a deep breath, quickly losing his rein on his temper. Yes, he’d made some bad choices, believing the lies women told him who wanted nothing more than what he had in his bank account. But this was different. He hoped.

  “There must be something in this for this food truck girl. What does she want? A partnership in the bakery? More money when you buy her out? She figures if she’s nice, maybe gives you what you want, you’ll pay up at the end?”

  “Why do you always believe the worst of people? Natalie isn�
�t like that.”

  “Oh really? And how do you know? How long have you known her?”

  Eric pressed his lips together, not wanting to answer that question.

  “Just as I thought,” his dad said.

  “We’re just looking out for you, Eric. It’s what parents do,” his mom said.

  He sighed, his anger fading a bit. “I know, Mom. But this is strictly a business arrangement,” Eric insisted, pushing away images of Nat’s long, silken limbs entwined around his.

  “Right,” his dad said. “So you’re going to quit a lucrative career to what? Become a baker? What happened to you joining my firm? Creating Schneider and Son? I thought that was the plan.”

  Well, that was a guilt-laden sucker punch to the gut. His dad had been talking about Schneider and Son since Eric was a kid. Sadly, it wasn’t what Eric wanted to do. But how do you tell the man who’s worked his whole life to build a business that he could leave to you, that you don’t want it?

  A million possibilities burned on Eric’s tongue but he didn’t give voice to any of them. Not yet. “I told you, I’m not quitting my job. I’ve got enough time saved up to take a few months’ leave from the firm. And I’m not saying this will be long-term. I’d like to get it up and running and see how it goes from there. Aunt Franny’s bakery was very successful when it was open. The basic elements are all still in place. There’s no reason it can’t be successful again. Would owning another successful business really be such a bad idea?”

  His father’s mouth finally quirked into a partial smile. “Owning it is one thing. Running it is something entirely different, and you know it.”

  “Well,” Eric continued, “if it doesn’t fly, the building is still a valuable piece of real estate, and would be more so with an operating business on the premises. It’s worth a shot.”

  His dad chewed that over for a minute. “At the very least, we should have John look into contesting the will. It’s obvious my sister was not quite in a sound state of mind to split up a property to some girl off the streets no one has even heard of. How do we know that this woman didn’t coerce the property out of Fran?”