Page 14 of Icing on the Cake

“The cake is ruined,” are the first words out of my blubbering mouth.

“You’re crying. Are you okay?” Concern fills his voice. “Tell me what happened.”

“I was delivering the cake,” I sniffle. “A car ran the light and hit me.” I swallow the knot welling in my throat. “The cake is ruined.”

“The cake? Eisley, are you hurt, bleeding, anything broken?” Beau’s voice tightens with worry. “Where are you?”

I shake my head, sobbing, as he says all the right things. Am I hurt? Do I need to go to the hospital? Can he come get me? He doesn’t ask about anything except my well-being, which only makes me cry harder and tremble more. Beau cares about me beyond the bedroom and outside of work.

Beau arrives shortly after the tow truck. He bounds from his car and hurries to my side, holding me securely yet gently in his arms. I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, nuzzling into the safety of his arms.

“I’ve got you, baby. Anything you need. I’m here.” He presses his lips to my forehead and rocks me in his arms until I stop shaking, and my tears dry up. “Let’s get you home. Can you get to your feet?”

I nod, and Beau helps me up from the curb. He wraps his arm around my waist and half carries me to his car. He settles me safely into the passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel.

“Can you stop by the store before taking me home?” He’ll think I’ve suffered a brain injury or worse, but my day’s already ruined. I don’t want tomorrow’s wedding to be ruined too. “I need to get ingredients for another cake.”

“You’re not considering baking cakes, are you?” Just like I thought, he thinks I’m nuts.

I nod anyway. “Please?”

His eyes soften, and he strokes my cheek with the back of his finger. “I said I’d do anything you need.”

He places the car in drive, and I’m a little unsettled by the vehicle’s movement. I guess I’m in more shock than I thought. But one thing’s certain, I’m no longer undecided about the speed of love. There isn’t a shadow of a doubt in my mind that what I feel for the man beside me is pure, unadulterated love.

***

Beau

It took every ounce of restraint to not panic when Eisley called about the accident. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. The only thought spinning through my head was, what would I do if I lost her? We’ve had so little time together, but enough for me to know I never want to be without her.

When I pulled up to the scene and got a firsthand look at her mangled car, I knew it was a miracle she survived. The bastard who hit her doesn’t realize what a lucky son of a bitch he is that the police got to him first.

The paramedics checked her out, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out how she came through that mess without a scratch on her body. Though she’s resilient, scars and bruises aren’t always visible. I’ll be her rock. Whatever she needs, I’ll provide it.

I wrap my hand around hers while we drive across town, grounding myself to her. My pulse continues to race as I push horrible thoughts of what could have happened from my mind.

Cake. She wants cake.

It’s irrational considering what she’s been through, but I understand her sense of obligation to her clients. Hell, she’s been saving the day since we locked eyes at Tom and Grace’s wedding. Compassion and empathy run deep in her soul.

“What are we doing here?” Eisley asks as I pull into Sapphire Bakehouse’s parking lot. She ruffles her brow, confused.

“We’re decorating cake.” I bring her fingertips to my lips and kiss each fragile one, grateful she wasn’t taken from me. “We can’t let your client down.”

I unlock the front door and lead Eisley through the dining area to the kitchen. Her breath catches in her throat as we step through the double metal doors. The restaurant kitchen takes up as much space as her entire apartment.

“This is my dream kitchen.” She releases my hand and runs her palms along the stainless steel countertops and rows of state-of-the-art equipment. “Are you sure we can bake in here? It’s so clean and...” her eyes widen. “This place is huge.”

I chuckle, pleased she’s happy. Her footsteps echo against the tiled floor as she inspects each appliance, mixer, and, ultimately, the large walk-in pantry. I follow closely behind her, watching for faltering steps or any indication that she might have a delayed reaction to the accident, but she rallies as if the crash never happened.

“How many tiers and what flavor was the cake?” I ask as she scans the shelves of ingredients.

We keep a supply of frozen crumb-coated cakes in the freezer for emergencies. It saves us time when someone books a last-minute party. It’s hard to believe so many people forget to order a cake for a special event in their life.

“It was simple. Vanilla with buttercream.” Eisley glances at me, her eyes still red and glossy from the tears she shed earlier. My heart pinches. I never want her to feel an ounce of pain or fear. “Five layers.”

“We’ll have it finished in no time.” I gently tug her hand and lead her to the large walk-in freezer. I open the heavy door, and a blast of cold air hits us as we walk in. “You can pick the cakes you need from our stock.”

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