A Sip of You(77)

One look at Beckett’s big grin and I realized he knew before I did. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call me instantly?”

“It wasn’t like that, Cat. But I can’t help it if my lover can’t keep a secret.” His eyes were sparkling mischievously as he looked at me and I knew I wasn’t the only one caught up in the excitement of a new relationship. Of course Beckett had found out first; Alec was the assistant art director at Fresh Market and part of the team for the Fresh for Spring campaign.

“Just because Alec and I are dating doesn’t mean you didn’t earn this, Cat. Those cherry shots looked incredible. Alec thought so and so did his bosses. You rocked it. And guess what’s next? Fruit and berries! How sexy is that going to be? Red, juicy strawberries at the peak of ripeness, plump clefted peaches glistening with nectar…so hot!” Beckett mocked fanned himself and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Oh my God, you are such a food perv!” I laughed, but I loved that he seemed as excited about doing more work for Fresh Market as I was. It felt great, too, that things seemed back to normal with us.

We kept talking and I told him all about Hutch Morrison and my upcoming meeting with him. Beckett promised to come over and help me get ready beforehand. I never knew what to wear and he had such a great eye for what looked good on me. He had absolutely saved me from numerous fashion disasters. If he hadn’t been a pastry chef, he could easily have been a stylist.

By the time we’d hashed out our plan, Alec had joined us. He went to get a beer, and I took my last chance to grill Beckett. “So really, why haven’t you called me lately? What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

Actually, I didn’t know the usual. Why was Beckett being so weirdly evasive? “Is it your secret project again?”

No answer.

I tried again. “You’ve clearly been spending a lot of time with your new lover.” I reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m really happy for you. Alec is a lucky guy.”

Beckett’s face lit up. “I’m loving every minute of it. Cat, Alec is amazing. Seriously amazing.”

“Should my ears be burning?” Alec asked, returning with beers for all of us.

“No, Beckett was just saying how amazing you are.”

Alec smiled. “In that case, don’t let me interrupt.”

By eleven I realized I’d drank one or two too many pints of Coup D’Etat, so I started on water. I took a cab home and stumbled in, almost tripping over Laird, just after eleven-thirty. I wasn’t messy drunk, but I was definitely buzzed. And I missed my man. Why did William have to work tonight? Why wasn’t he here for me to ravish? After a few drinks, I was most definitely in the mood.

I took out my phone and frowned at it. No calls or texts. He worked way too hard. He needed to have a little fun. Maybe I could help him with that.

I stripped off my jeans and T-shirt, shimmied out of my underwear, and pulled on a lace-trimmed, silky black robe and lace thong William had picked out for me. I hadn’t had a chance to wear them yet. When I reached up to pull my hair back into a ponytail, the silk felt cool and sleek against my skin. I’d definitely be wearing this again. I grabbed my tablet, propped some pillows behind my back, and got comfortable in bed. With a grin, I called William on my videochat app.

He answered right away, looking serious and professional with a pair of glasses on his nose. Glasses? I didn’t even know he wore glasses. And was he in his office? I looked down at my watch. I wasn’t wrong. It really was almost midnight. What was he still doing at work? Didn’t billionaires get to sleep?

“Hello, Catherine,” he said. His silky voice vibrated through me, sending heat straight to my core. I squirmed, pressing my thighs together.

“Hi, yourself. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other that I forgot what you looked like. Love your bifocals, Grandpa.”

He sat back and grinned. “They’re not bifocals. I wear them for eye strain after long hours on the computer.” He pulled them off and tossed them on his desk. I’d been in his office once before, and now I remembered that his desk itself seemed to serve as a tablet. He must have a webcam set at an angle so anyone who video-conferenced with him would look directly at him.

“Likely story,” I joked.

He smirked—yes, it was definitely a smirk—and said, “What have you been doing tonight? Not staying home, I take it.”

“I was out with Beckett and Alec at Resolution—no, that’s not right—Revolution Brewing.”

His brow rose. “Catherine, are you drunk?”