****
Denise glanced at her cell phone for the tenth time and released a resigned exhale.
“Our hour is up,” the baker said. “We can reschedule.”
“No. I can make a decision now. We don’t have any time to waste.” Especially with R.J. standing her up.
With her fork, she gestured to the yellow cake on the plate. You couldn’t go wrong with that or strawberry filling.
“Icing or fondant?”
“Icing.” Denise flipped through the book of wedding cake examples. She pointed to her favorite. “Can we do this square, three tiered cake with red flowers?”
“Same design?”
“Instead of dots can we have black spirals?”
“Sure.” The baker sketched it out on his form then showed the drawing to her.
She smiled. “Perfect. You’re positive you can have the cake ready in time for the wedding?”
“Without a doubt, Ms. Gasteaux.”
“Awesome. Thank you.”
“I hope your fiancée approves.”
“He has no choice.”
If R.J. cared about it, he would have shown up or at least answered his phone when she repeatedly called him. He had yet to call her back or even send her a text message.
R.J. wasn’t into the wedding planning; she knew that. Most guys weren’t. But he helped when needed and was always supportive. Skipping out on the wedding cake consultation was not like him.
She would not jump to conclusions as she had the day before. R.J. was an attorney. They often worked long hours and took on a great deal of responsibility. However, the same could be said of her and she found a way to make time.
Denise would wait to hear his excuse. R.J. was a good man. She believed him when he said he wasn’t cheating on her. Yet the nagging feeling that he was keeping something from her refused to go away. She made a career out of being perceptive. That didn’t stop when she left her place of work.
At home, Denise ate a quiet dinner and watched television on the couch with Barkley. She still hadn’t heard from R.J. and was beginning to worry. When ten o’clock came around and there was still no word from him, she went into full out panic mode.
What if he was hurt or worse? His car could be totaled on the side of the road with R.J. left for dead.
Denise shook the morbid thoughts from her mind. Making herself miserable with anxiety solved nothing. She crawled in the soft king sized bed they shared and waited. Thirty minutes later, she heard the front door open.
“Honey, I’m home!”
He didn’t sound the least bit hurt to her. She rolled to her side and pulled the covers over her head.
R.J. came into the room. He stripped off his clothes, if the swish of material hitting the floor was any indication. The mattress dipped as he slid into bed. Denise made no moves to acknowledge him.
“Are you asleep, Denise?”
He pulled the covers from over her head and nuzzled her neck. It took everything within her not to moan when his tongue snaked out to lap at the sensitive skin.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” he whispered. “Your breathing is too rapid.” He nipped her ear. “You’re drawing closer to me.”
With dismay, she realized he was right. She’d slid right into his lap, spooning. Damn him.
“You’re late,” Denise stated, no inflection to her voice.
He pulled back. “A new case had me working late. Then I went out for drinks with a couple of guys from the office. Don’t worry. I only had one beer. I mainly went for the hot wings.”
She could care less about how many beers he had or what he ate. What bothered her was there were other things he chose to put before her. And was contacting her about his plans too much to ask for?
“You didn’t call.”
“I figured you’d understand. You have to work late sometimes.”
“I let you know that. I thought you were dead.”
“Your mind is a weird place. Guess I have your job to thank for that.”
R.J. wasn’t getting it. Denise reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. She twisted around. “You didn’t come to the cake consultation.”
“That wasn’t today.”
“It was. I told you yesterday. If you would have answered my phone calls, you would have been informed about it again.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “Oh, man. Forgive me, Denise. I completely forgot. I got so wrapped up that case. I turned my phone off to prevent interruptions. We can reschedule, right?”
“I went ahead with the consultation, hoping you’d show up. I already made the final selection.” She hoped he heard the disappointment in her voice. He let her down.
R.J.’s blue eyes searched hers for something. For what, she didn’t know. “Hon, I really am sorry. I feel horrible. I’ll make it up to you.” He tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ears.
“I’m tired, R.J.” She rolled back over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room in darkness.
After a few moments, he laid down. They were left in an uncomfortable silence where neither of them slept.