Page 20 of Cakewalk

“No, it’s fine,” he gritted out. “You opened up to me. It’s only fair.”

A look flashed over her face, making him think for a moment that there was something she still wasn’t telling him. But it was gone before he could comment, replaced with a sympathetic smile. “This isn’t a competition, Holden.”

Ignoring her words, he turned around to face her, taking in her beautiful features. There was a part of him that wanted to rush over and kiss her for being so understanding, and another part of him that wanted to scream at her. Kissing Gigi was the last thing he needed to be doing while thinking about Hannah.

“Hannah was seven and a half months pregnant.” The sound of her gasp filled his ears, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He needed to get this out. “After they were killed, I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t play the game anymore. My heart just wasn’t in it. So I came back here.”

“To your family?”

“Oh no,” he said, a sad chuckle escaping. “Don’t get me wrong. My family was nothing but supportive. Maybe a little too much so. Uncle Field had lost Aunt Viv a few years prior, so of course he was the expert on dealing with loss and moving on. None of them were willing to just let me grieve in my own way.”

“Which was?”

“Holing up in this old house and hiding from the world,” he shrugged in response as he rejoined her at the table, not knowing what else to tell her. It was the truth. He wanted nothing to do with the outside world anymore, and up until she arrived in town a couple of weeks ago, he’d had no interest in ever talking to anyone either. What she had done to change that, he still wasn’t sure. This was really not where he had seen the afternoon going. This was supposed to be about picking out recipes to help her. Not about them learning each other's deepest secrets. He wasn’t supposed to be sitting here wondering what else this beauty had up her sleeve and why on earth she made him feel so alive.

“Don’t shrug it off,” she said, squeezing his hand again. The same warmth from earlier flooded his system again, and he had to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “I get it. Picking up the pieces isn’t easy.”

The pang of understanding that hit Holden made his pulse race. He liked knowing that Gigi got it—that she got him. He liked it maybe a little too much. Looking at her now, he saw more than just the hapless widow who’d almost burned down his carriage house. He saw someone much stronger.

“That it’s not,” he said, pulling his hand away from hers. He needed to get a grip. He needed to get them back on track. Back into whatever zone it was where he wasn’t picturing holding Gigi against him like he had the other night at the festival. Just because she had felt better than he could have possibly imagined didn’t mean that he was allowed to keep thinking about it. Especially after he’d just told her all about Hannah. “So, back to recipes.”

“Right,” she agreed, a little too quickly for his liking.

See, she’s not interested in you like that, so stop it.

“I think we’ve got some good ones. I can run to the store tomorrow morning, and we can try the first one out after that?” she asked.

“Do you want me to go to the store with you?” he asked.

“No, I got it,” she said, pushing up from the table. “I mean, how much damage can I do at a grocery store?” Laughing lightly, she added, “Actually, maybe I should take that back. I best not tempt fate.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“I do, thank you,” she said, turning to head up the stairs to her room before pausing and turning back around. “And thank you for opening up to me about Hannah. I know that wasn’t easy.”

9

Holden

Never in his life had Holden ended a run more confused than when he’d started it. Running had always served as a method to clear out the cobwebs or whatever was clouding his brain in the moment. Apparently not today, however. Of course, most of those runs had been before he’d met GeorgiaGrace Hawthorne as well.

Yesterday had not gone how he had envisioned. They were just supposed to pick out recipes. Maybe have a few laughs to help brighten her mood. It wasn’t supposed to turn into them opening the door into their lives, their histories, and learning about each other. He hadn’t meant to unload on her about Hannah that way. He also certainly hadn’t meant to spend the rest of the night thinking about holding Gigi close and kissing away the pain he saw in her eyes. No good could come of him thinking about how she was just the right size to fit in his arms—and about all the things he wanted to do to her while she was there.

Still, he felt like he’d only scratched the surface with Gigi. He wanted to know more about her, about everything she’d left behind and what she wanted for her future. He even almost wanted to tell her about himself. She’d thanked him for opening up to her. Who did that? Only other people who knew what it was like to go through such a loss. Except, no matter which way he thought about it, Holden got the distinct impression that maybe Gigi’s loss wasn’t quite like his. Like her losing her husband was actually a good thing. He’d lost his entire world when his girls were stolen from him—Gigi seemed to be determined to find her world now that Bradley was gone. From the very little she’d told him, her late husband did not seem like a nice guy. Even if she’d never come out and said it, he saw it in her eyes and in her skittish actions whenever she was around others. There was a fear there that he didn’t quite understand and probably never would.

Opening the front door to the house, he was immediately assaulted by the sounds of some bubble-gum pop music blasting from the kitchen. It was a complete one-eighty from the heavy metal he’d been listening to on his run, and he couldn’t help but bristle a little from the change. Although the sweet, female voice that was singing along with the auto–tuned pop artist did have the rest of his body alert and paying very close attention.

“Hey!” Gigi called out enthusiastically as he walked into the kitchen. She was already wearing a frilly teal apron over her T-shirt and jeans, her beautiful blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, looking like she was ready to tackle whatever the kitchen threw at her. All sorts of ingredients were strewn across the counter, haphazardly placed, with what seemed like little to no organization at all. “How was your run?”

“Fine,” he answered, still taking in the whole scene in the kitchen. He wanted to laugh, because every inch of this disorganization screamed Gigi to him, but he knew that would not be received well. Looking back at her, he gave her a bright smile. She looked so fucking cute in that apron. Stop it, she’s not here for you to ogle her. “I see you made it to the grocery okay.”

“I can grocery shop!” she said defensively.

“I didn’t realize that real housewives went grocery shopping,” he joked.

“I was not a real housewife! Those women are…something else entirely.”

Holden barked out a laugh at her response. It was the first time that Gigi had said something even remotely disparaging about someone else, and even in her attempt, she was still nice as could be about it.