Page 42 of Hopeless Romantic
“Then you don’t see yourself the way I now see you,” he said, and when he didn’t laugh, Beckett knew he believed what he said. “We’re all just holding it together. I’ve let things, important things, fall through the cracks. Treaded water more times than I’d like to admit.”
She thought about the heavy responsibilities placed on his shoulders—some by choice, and most, she was learning, not—and wondered how he would manage to pull off a six-month sailing trip. “When did it get easier?”
“For me? When I admitted I needed help.”
Accepting help, as far as Beckett could tell, took the ability to let go and trust others. Two things her childhood hadn’t allowed for. The only way to keep her world spinning was to maintain control of all the moving pieces. One wrong move, and it was checkmate. As for trust, that meant being vulnerable and opening herself up to the possibility of disappointment. Which brought her to the third thing she didn’t do.
She’d rather go it alone than suffer through any more disappointment. But she was beginning to understand that planning this wedding alone was no longer a possibility. Annie had enlisted Beckett’s help, and Emmitt had asked for Levi’s, so it didn’t matter that Beckett preferred to work alone. Her clients’ wishes always came first.
And right now, Annie and Emmitt were her clients. So when her phone pinged, she set it aside and asked, “About this cake . . . Emmitt give you any thoughts on what flavor he’s leaning toward?”
“Nothing more than happy wife, happy life.”
“Smart man.” Her phone pinged. She ignored it. It pinged again.
“Want me to handle that dick for you?” he asked.
“No. I handle my own dick.”
“I believe you,” he deadpanned, and they both laughed. “I also believe that I need to try a few more cake flavors before deciding. How about you?”
“I’d better not. It’s almost dinnertime, and I have to make a few calls to prepare for my meeting with Kevin tomorrow morning.”
“After a client like him, you deserve a little more of life’s icing before returning to reality.”
She wanted to agree, but having her icing and eating it too wasn’t a luxury her schedule afforded. And even though this was her last appointment of the day, she still had a million-and-one things to do—just as she knew Levi did. Not that you could tell that from the laid-back way he reclined in the chair, his long legs sprawled out under the table, taking up more than their share of space.
“Icing doesn’t pay the bills,” she teased.
“You deserve a hell of a lot more than icing,” he said with a soft protectiveness that took her by surprise, made her believe that maybe she did deserve more. Tempted her into orderingtwomore platters of cake, because with him, she didn’t have to have all the answers.
She could just breathe. Which was as unfamiliar a feeling as it was refreshing.
“What could a little more cake hurt,” she said, and Levi smiled as if she’d made the right call. It shouldn’t matter to her how he felt about her decisions, but today, it did.
“That’s the spirit, Girl Wonder.” Levi waved to Cecilia, who took her sweet time walking around the counter and across the café. Her red hair arrived before she did, and her irritation at being pulled away from her daily soap opera would linger long after she took their order.
“This the husband?” she asked Beckett.
“He’s just a client,” she said, although she was quickly learning that Levi could never bejustanything.
Cecilia’s gaze did a little Wimbledon action, back and forth between her two cake tasters. Beckett refused to elaborate on principle, since she’d explained the situation when she first arrived. Which left Levi to take the full force of Cecilia’s glare.
“Does your mom know that you’re tasting with intentions? Because she was in here yesterday and didn’t say a word about your getting hitched.”
“We’re here for Annie and Emmitt’s cake tasting,” Levi explained. “And we’d like a second platter.” He named the seven new flavors they’d like to try.
Cecilia pulled the stub of a pencil from behind her ear but didn’t write anything in her notebook—which was still securely in her apron front. “They know you’re hijacking their tasting?”
“They know,” Levi assured her.
“Because it’s only twenty-five percent off on the first tasting. I don’t reward stupidity,” Cecilia said, clearly immune to his charm.
Must be nice,Beckett thought, wondering what the woman’s secret was. “Remember, they hired me to plan their wedding? They know I’m here.”
Cecilia jabbed her pencil at Levi. “And what about him?”
“He’s along to make sure the male point of view is represented in all wedding decisions,” Levi said, sending a wink Beckett’s way.
