Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2)(44)

“If he loved me, Mom, he wouldn’t have accused me of thinking like his ex and wanting him to dump Phyllis in just any old retirement care place.”

“An accusation he made when he was scared that his last living relative was about to die,” Susan pointed out. “He wasn’t thinking straight. And, right now, neither are you.”

“Hmm,” Rachel said. “I’d better text him to say thanks.”

He replied with tasting notes. Fraisier: an almond sponge base topped with vanilla chiffon cream and with sliced strawberries round the side.

But this wasn’t like any strawberry tart Rachel had ever seen. The strawberries weren’t stuck on the side; they were perfectly aligned with the filling. And on the top was a garnish of fruits of the forest, with tiny versions of yesterday’s snowflakes sprinkled across it.

Every single member of her family approved of it.

And every single one of them thought she should forgive him.

OK. Let’s talk, she texted him when she got home.

Not yet, came the enigmatic reply.

Why?

And his reply drove her insane: Patience.

He’d sent her cake after cake to wear her resistance down – and now he’d done that, he was telling her to be patient?

Sheesh.

*

Monday morning’s delivery, according to Ryan’s text, was a white cake with passion fruit custard layers and whipped cream on top, with raspberries to decorate. The message was, Please will you give me another chance?

She knew the cake wouldn’t last until the evening, so she shared it with her colleagues and the practice next door for their mid-morning break.

And they, too, lectured her about making it up with Ryan.

So what is this, get my family and my friends and my colleagues on your side so they nag me on your behalf? she texted him later that evening.

We’re on the same side, he texted back.

Enough was enough. She called him.

Except he didn’t pick up the phone. Exasperated, she left a message on his voicemail. “Ryan, you’re driving me crazy. All right. You win. We need to talk. Call me. Please.”

*

He didn’t. And there was no box on her desk on Tuesday morning.

Had he changed his mind?

At lunchtime, two men came in carrying an enormous box.

“Shannon signed for it,” they informed her cheerfully, and left the box on her desk.

She lifted the lid. It was a massive sheet cake with perfect pale yellow fondant frosting. And this time there wasn’t a chocolate label; he’d written his message on the cake itself.

I fell in love with you maybe the first night I met you but it’s taken me this long to work it out and realize that I want to be with you, for now and for always. You make my world feel like a better place. I’m sorry I panicked and pushed you away. I never meant to hurt you, and I’d like to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll give me the chance.

I’m truly sorry.

And I love you.

She swallowed hard. How could she possibly resist an entreaty like that?

She called him. Again, he didn’t pick up. And she wanted to talk to him, not leave a message on his voicemail. So she simply said, “It’s Rachel. Yes. Call me.”

*

Later that evening, there was a knock on her door.

She frowned. She wasn’t expecting visitors. “Who is it?” she asked.

“Me,” Ryan’s deep voice informed her.

Her knees went weak. It had been almost two weeks since she’d seen him, and she felt ridiculously nervous. Had all those messages with his cakes been just sweet words? Or had he really meant them?

Nerves tightened her stomach into a knot. Even if he did mean them, would she be enough for him? After all, she hadn’t been enough for Nick. What was to say it would go right with Ryan if she gave them a second chance?

She took a deep breath. Enough thinking. Time to hear what he had to say. “Hi,” she said as she opened her front door.

And then she saw that he was carrying another cake box.

“Considering I’ve hardly made a dent in the one you sent this morning, and that was with giving slices to patients as well…”

He smiled. “This one’s different.”

“How to woo a girl in ten cakes?” she asked wryly.

“Something like that.”

“I haven’t had a love letter in years. And I’ve never had a love letter written on an actual cake before.”

“I didn’t know how else to tell you how I felt. And I meant every single word I wrote.”

She could see it in his eyes, too. He meant it. He’d poured his heart into his cakes. He’d created spectacular desserts just for her and put real thought into it – something that Nick had never been able to do.

Ryan wasn’t Nick. And he was a man of his word. A man of integrity who’d put his family first, and who’d do anything for someone he loved. A man who would do his best never to hurt her again.

He paused. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she admitted.

“I’ve been stubborn and stupid.”

If he could say it, then so could she. Because, now she thought about it, she’d judged him as harshly as if he’d been Nick. That wasn’t fair. “Me, too.”