"Thought you weren't planning on returning my calls." His voice may have been neutral, but lines of tension gathered around his eyes and mouth. The stiffening of his shoulders. He was pissed that she hadn't called him back.
"I needed some time to think. And then I got slammed with a bunch of orders, so you were moved to the back burner." She couldn't help defending herself a little bit. "Besides, it didn't seem like you were up for a bunch of open communication at the time."
"I am now."
"I have a cake to finish."
His lips set in a stubborn line. "I can wait."
"I'm sure you can. Doesn't mean I'm letting you."
What would have been a frown on another man became a glower on the hardened planes of Zeke's face. "Dammit, Viv, don't make me beg." When she didn't respond, he added, "We won't talk until you finish your cake."
His stance and the frustration practically rolling off of him meant that arguing would prove futile. It was probably going to be a horrible mistake, but she gave in. "Fine. But you wait in my office."
"Fine."
He followed her inside, not commenting as he watched her do up the locks on the back door. She led him a few steps down the hall and pointed to her office. "You can wait there while I finish frosting the cake."
He glanced around the bakery. "Are you here alone?"
"Yes." She flicked on the office light and blinked when it illuminated him fully. "What the hell happened to your head?"
"Fight at work. It'll heal. Why are you here alone?"
Two could play at the noncommittal game. "Because I have work to do."
She walked away without another word and returned to the retirement cake that had been rush ordered yesterday. It was the fourth cake of the week and she was grateful it was buttercream instead of that godforsaken fondant. It took about another half hour to finish up the decorating. Once it was in the fridge, she returned to her office.
She expected Zeke to be lounging in her chair. Instead, he dominated her delicate, feminine desk, leaning aggressively over it to glare at her as she walked in. The gash on his forehead only added to his intimidating appearance. It did nothing to detract from his sexual potency.
Irritated at the direction her thoughts had careened, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared back. "What?"
"You don't have any cameras here."
Sitting across from him was a bad idea. He already owned the tiny space and she needed distance if she intended to keep a level head around him. "No. They're expensive. What did you want to talk about?"
"You should have cameras here. Has he bothered you again?"
"No. Seriously, Zeke, I'm exhausted and want to get home. Why are you here?"
"I want another chance."
"And I want a relationship based on trust and mutual understanding."
"What did I do to make you so fecking angry at me?"
"Do you have any idea how frustrating it was to sit there while some other woman knew all sorts of stuff about you and I was clueless? It was like sitting at dinner with one of your ex-girlfriends."
"I told you, I'd never met her before."
"I get that, but she still knew more about you than I did. Would you like me to invite you to dinner with one of the men I used to date in Napa so you could see how it feels?"
"Not unless you wanted him dead or wanted me to fuck you on the table in front of him to prove you're mine."
She refused to let herself acknowledge the flutter of hope at his crude admission. "Well, neither's an option. But you know how angry you feel right now just imagining it?"
His nod was jerky.