Chapter 60

Rachel POV

Camelot Records

No one has paid me any particular attention. I thought everyone would be able to tell I had given in to temptation with my former mate the night before, but I looked myself over carefully in the mirror as I got ready to go to the studio. I didn't look any different no matter how hard I studied my reflection.

Bella was surprised I showered before finding breakfast -I normally don't bother with a shower in the morning- but I had zero desire to leave even a trace scent of arousal on my skin.

I'd rather be hungry and clean than full and smelling of sex.

Howard called to make sure I was on my way in so I skipped breakfast entirely in favor of getting to Camelot Records on time. I knew we had to go over the final Master on my LP. I was supposed to approve the final versions; they cared about my input even though this was my first record.

"Rachel?"

I looked up from the soundboard as Howard touched my shoulder. He held his hand up to show he was only trying to get my attention. No harm intended. I had barely heard anything with my headset on.

"Yes?"

"You've got a visitor. How about you take fifteen?"

Tyler raised a latte in the window, a half-smile on his face making him look rakish and a little wild since I could see a hint of teeth.

Moving to meet him, I stopped paying attention to the others around us. I wanted my latte as much as I wanted to see my former mate. He certainly didn't look mussed this morning. I would never guess he had drank too much the night before then seduced me over the phone.

"That better be mine," I joked.

"It is and it's decaf. I also brought a cinnamon roll. I thought you could use the extra sugar this morning."

"All women can use extra sugar in the morning. Lucky for you, I'm no longer having nausea every day I wake up. Gimme!"

Tyler surrendered the drink and the bag with my roll. I led him over to an empty composition room. We took chairs at the big table the producers met with the talent around; I didn't hesitate to take a swallow of blissfully hot latte before tearing into the pastry bag.

Chewing slowly, I moaned around the taste of cinnamon and sweet sugar on my tongue. The roll itself practically melted in my mouth it was so tender. Bella couldn't have made a better cinnamon roll which was saying something as my best friend was a professional pastry chef.

"Good?"

I nodded, not bothering to waste time on words as I tore another strip free, exposing the ribbons of cinnamon between the flaky layers.

Tyler could entertain himself while I enjoyed my breakfast. I was suddenly starving and I didn't care if he was watching me eat. I pulled the pastry apart layer by layer. My latte was wonderfully rejuvenating for a drink without caffeine. Come to that, I couldn't even tell it was decaf. It didn't taste any different than my usual.

"I got you two. Just in case."

I laughed out loud at the look on Tyler's face.

"Thank you! I have no idea how I've lived without cinnamon rolls. Where did these come from?"

"It's a shop on the corner from Moonrise Entertainment. Cuppa Jo. A woman named Josette runs the place and makes the rolls fresh every morning. They're open through the week. Closed on the weekend. Some of my staff claim the only reason I don't make them come in on Saturday or Sunday is because they're closed and I can't function without them."

All the time we had been together, I'd never known Tyler had a morning ritual anywhere other than his office. I had taken for granted he left in a hurry, not even bothering with coffee or toast from our kitchen.

"Sounds reasonable to me. I think I'd have a hard time motivating myself out the door without this to look forward to, too."

I licked cream cheese frosting off my fingertips as I studied Tyler. He seemed inordinately fascinated by my mouth; I wondered if a part of him was embarrassed about how far we had taken things on the phone the night before.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"I called Dylan to have him check. You aren't the only one with a best friend, you know?"

That explained why Howard had called me to check in early.

I found I didn't care whether or not Dylan or Howard knew Tyler was checking in on me. A part of me was thrilled he was showing an interest for a change. He hadn't brought me so much as a single flower in all our time together.

"Fair enough."

I finished the second roll before I stopped eating and Tyler let me, drinking his own coffee quietly at my side. We hadn't shared such a companionable silence in years if ever. I idly wished we could agree to make a morning or lunch meeting something we did regularly.

"Full?"

Wiping my hands, I laughed, "Yes. Very. I probably shouldn't have eaten both. I'm already starting to put on pounds. I have no idea how much I've gained, but I can tell a difference in my clothes."

"I can tell a difference in your clothes, too," Tyler offered, reaching over to tug on the hem of my skirt where it had rode up on my thigh.

I blushed hot and heavy and hated myself for being so obvious. I wanted to appear calm and collected, but there was just no way I could put on a sophisticated front with Tyler being flirtatious alongside his kindness.

"Stop it! I'm not getting that fat yet---am I?"

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head, "I wouldn't say you're getting 'fat' at all. You just have more curves in all my favorite places."

Would he still think I was sexy when my belly was swollen out as big as a whale? What if I got stretch marks or my body didn't return to normal after I gave birth? Could I keep him interested if I had the body of a mother instead of a model?

"You're thinking too hard," he said, reaching for my hand to twine his fingers around my own, "You've always been beautiful. Trust me when I say you always will be beautiful. Having a baby won't change that, Rachel."

"You don't know that. You can't. I'm going to gain weight, Tyler. I might even gain a lot of weight."

"You might even get a double chin!"

He widened his eyes as if he had announced some horror and I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

"Okay! I get I'm a little early on panicking. I just don't want to be---no woman wants to be ugly."

Tyler rubbed his thumb over my knuckles, asking, "Did it sound like I was complaining last night? I can assure you I was thoroughly satisfied and all I had was your memory to keep me company. The reality is a lot better and if there's more of you? All the better. I won't worry about breaking you so easily."

I thought about making love with Tyler -how hard and heavy his body was on top of mine- and realized he'd never held back with me.

Before we had severed the bond between us, I had thought his rough treatment was because he didn't think I deserved tenderness.

Now? I thought Tyler preferred being extremely physical in bed because it might be the only time he got to lose control.

"I won't break. I promise."

Tyler studied my face before saying, "I might. You know I'm not made of stone?"

I had compared him to a stone sculpture in my mind, but he was every bit as flesh and blood as I was and I was reminded his heart might be tender, too.

I wanted the chance to treat him with some tenderness. I wanted him to have the chance to treat me the same. Didn't we deserve a second chance?

"I know. Same time tomorrow? You bring me coffee with caffeine next time and I'll give you a kiss to say 'thank you'?"

"I'd like that. Both the promise of meeting you tomorrow and the offer of a kiss. No chance I can get one today?"

Balling up the napkins and cleaning the crumbs from the table into the bag, I shook my head negatively. My body was too sensitive and my nerves too raw to risk him touching me today.

"Not today. Decaf only gets you so far in my good graces."

"What about the second cinnamon roll?" he teased.

I held the door to the composition room for him, offering, "I'll escort you to the elevator. I'll even press the button for you if you like, Sir."

A flush bloomed on Tyler's high cheekbones and I knew I was right in my theory: he liked it when I called him 'sir.'

I followed through on taking him to the lift and pressing the button, too. I gave him a saucy wink before I left him to ride down alone and returned to the studio to finish my work for the day.

What would happen when I got home for the night? Would he want to call again? Would I call him?

I didn't know, but I was anxious to find out.