Page 44 of Falling For Her Boss

I’m breathing hard, unnerved by how close to me he is. I want to reach out and touch his hard abs. I want to feel him inside me like the night he took me. I want to look in his eyes and know that I can trust him. But everything I believed has been broken down, and now I’m not sure what to trust – my head or my heart.

I swallow hard. This isn’t going to be an easy decision. Do I take a step back or take a risk with Logan? He’s looking at me with such sad eyes that I have to look away. I don’t want him to influence what I’m thinking right now.

I come to a decision. A kind of compromise with my own feelings. I look up at Logan and try not to blush when my eyes meet his. I have to stay in control of my emotions and my decisions, no matter how handsome he is.

“You have one last chance,” I tell him firmly. “If you can prove to me that you made a mistake and that you’re actually worth my time…then I’m willing to give this a go. But if you mess up one more time…I’m out. I don’t have time to have my heart played by a man like you, or any man for that matter.”

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, leaning his forehead against mine. “I’m going to show you that I’m the man you want me to be. I promise.”

CHAPTER 25

Logan

It’s time to do some serious making up to my girl. I’m so glad that Isabella has given me another chance, but I can’t help being unnerved by the pressure that’s been put on me. She’s told me to come over to her apartment this evening and show her how sorry I am, so I really need to pull it out of the bag.

But I can’t just do what I would do with any other girl. Usually, I would shower someone in gifts to show them I care, but I know she’s not a materialistic girl. All of the flowers, stuffed animals and chocolates in the world wouldn’t make her feel better, especially considering how much money I make. No, whatever I do has to be personal. It has to come from the heart. And that’s why I’ve spent the last half hour in the store trying to gather ingredients that are listed on an online recipe.

I’m going to bake her a cake.

I’ve never baked in my life, but what shows love and affection better than a homemade gift? I’ll never be an artist, and I wouldn’t even want to try. I can’t play an instrument, so writing her a song is out of the question, and way too cheesy. But how hard can it be to follow a recipe? It’ll show that I’ve made some effort, and if I’m successful, it’ll go well with a glass of red wine. I’m no expert, but it kind of seems like it won’t be hard. I know her favorite cake is chocolate so I find everything I need and I’m head back to my apartment as fast as I can.

I fish out some old cooking equipment that I took from my parents when they passed away. My Dad used to bake a lot. I wish I had let him teach me how, but I feel like he’d approve if he saw me now. Besides, I can only do my best.

But it becomes evident quickly that I’m not a natural born cook. I certainly haven’t inherited my Dad’s skills. I drop one of my eggs straight away, and I keep getting bits of shell in the bowl each time I crack one. When I try to use the whisk, I get ingredients everywhere and have to start almost all the way over again. This feels like a disaster already, but I can’t show up empty handed. I shove the cake in the oven as soon as I can and start on the icing.

The recipe tells me I have twenty minutes, so I grab a shower and get dressed in my best shirt. I want to look good for Isabella. But when I enter the kitchen, my heart sinks at the smell of something burning.

I fish the cake out of the oven and find nothing, but a hard, flat something-or-other at the bottom of the tin. Horrified, I almost burn my fingers trying to get it out of the tin. There’s nothing I can salvage here. Hastily, I try and spread icing over the top to cover the damage, but it quickly turns to goo. I stare at the mess in dismay. It’s time for me to head out to her apartment. I shove it in a box and leave my penthouse, praying that my idiocy won’t be a make or break deal for the pair of us.

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