Breach of Faith Read online

  Will snorted in amusement.

  I glared at Frank who was desperately trying not to laugh, “cheese and bacon scrolls,” I said decisively.

  “What?”

  “I want cheese and bacon scrolls. Now.”

  “Oh. Scrolls.”

  “Yes. Scrolls.”

  Frank looked apologetic, “sorry. Just sold the last one. I’m making more but they’ll be another twenty minutes.”

  “Oh.”

  “I have just finished making the cinnamon scrolls, though.”

  “Cinnamon?”

  “Yes,” Frank was smiling again. “In fact, there’s been so much spice flying around this morning, I probably smell like a cinnamon scroll.”

  “You taste like a cinnamon scroll?” Intrigued I stared at Frank’s chest. Not current bun or cheese and bacon scroll. Cinnamon, yum.

  “Smell,” said Frank, looking amused.

  “Taste?” said Will, looking suspicious.

  “Mummy? Dat fank,” stated Tom firmly, thrusting a chubby finger in Frank’s face.

  Panic was setting in. “Yes, Tommy,” I said, slightly louder than necessary, “I have to thank the nice man.”

  “Fank, mummy, fank!”

  I turned to Will, whose expression suggested a call for the men in white coats was in order. “Chocolate!”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Get. Chocolate!” I was growling and didn’t care. I scowled at Frank who took a startled step backwards. “Please could I have a loaf of bread.”

  *

  I sighed, my relief palpable, and I squeezed Tom’s hand as we walked away from Frank’s shop. “That cake looks yummy.” Maybe Will hadn’t noticed my strange behaviour.

  “Kate? What was that about?”

  All right, so he had noticed.

  “Why were you acting so weird around that bloke?”

  “Weird?”

  “Yes, weird. You seemed stressed.”

  “Stressed?”

  “Stop repeating everything I say. Kate, what’s going on.”

  “Going on –?”

  “Kate!”

  “—sorry. Nothing’s going on.”

  Will halted, forcing me to stop too, “did he do something to you?”

  Only in my dreams.

  “What? No!”

  “It’s just that you said he helped you after you … fell over.” Emotions were warring on Will’s face and I realised he didn’t know whether humour or concern was appropriate. I gritted my teeth, and after a few seconds he continued, “Kate, did he try and touch you or … anything?”

  My mouth fell open. Bloody hell, if only you knew.

  Will was now looking rather uncomfortable, “it’s just that –”

  “NO!” I had to stop shouting. “No, of course he didn’t. He’s a gentleman. In fact I reckon he’s gay.”

  “Gay?”

  I could have bitten my own tongue off, what the hell had made my say that.

  “He’s not gay.”

  I stared at Will in surprise, “how on earth do you know?”

  Will shrugged, “I saw how he was looking at you.”

  Looking at me, I thought later, was he really looking at me?

  I forgot to wonder why I cared. There was one glaringly obvious truth in all this, though. The only way Will could be so positive about another man’s sexuality was because he was the one who was gay.

  Chapter five

  23 September

  Distracted and glum, I stared at my coffee, ignoring the steam that dissipated into the air. I sipped, and spilled; typical. “Bollocks,” I exclaimed, earning a frown from an elderly woman sitting nearby. I ignored her too.

  It was half twelve and I wasn’t meeting Martha until one o’clock. Awesome, just what I needed; half an hour stewing in my own thoughts; dissecting the disaster of that morning.

  Half an hour of images of Frank.

  Naked?

  “Shit! Shitty shit, shit!”

  The sharp scrape of metal on vinyl brought me back to life as the elderly woman flounced past, banging me on the head with her bag on the way. “Some people need to mind their language,” the old woman declared before flouncing out the door.

  “Scaring away the customers now, are you?” There was a smile in the voice and I turned towards the speaker, an answering smile on my own face.

  Oh shitty shit, shit, it’s him. It’s Frank. My face fell.

  Frank was still smiling. “We must stop meeting like this.”

  “Meeting? You? No … no, I’m meeting a friend. She’ll be here soon. I didn’t come here to see you. You’re a really nice bloke and totally hot, but –”

  “It was a joke,” Frank looked bemused.

  Did I really just tell him he’s hot? I hid my head in my hands.

  “A joke. You know; you laugh, I laugh, it breaks the awkward silence when two passing acquaintances meet in a coffee shop.” There was a pause; a long pause while I died slowly, painfully. “D’ya mind if I join you?”

  Without raising my head, I waved my hand vaguely and Frank sat down.

  “So I’m totally hot am I?”

  I took a deep breath and looked up. “You must think I’m a right plonker.”

  His blue eyes were sparkling and I suddenly realised they must always look like that. No wonder I kept drowning. I kept my gaze focused firmly just above his right eyebrow.

  “A plonker?” He grinned. “No. A little … eccentric perhaps.”

  “Eccentric?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I’m glad I’ve caught up with you,” he sipped his coffee. “I wanted to ask you about what happened this morning.”

  Oh no. I took a large gulp of my own coffee and promptly choked. Coughing furiously, my eyes streaming, I dropped the cup back onto the table.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Frank pounded my back helpfully. “It’s just … is everything okay?”

  I wiped my eyes with a napkin then blew my nose. What now? The truth was a bit too complicated after all. “Everything’s fine,” I lied.

  “Okay.” He stared, blue eyes pulling me in deeper every second, “I like what you’ve done to yourself.”

  “Done?”

  He flicked my hair, “the new look suits you.”

  Despite myself, I smiled, “I didn’t think men were supposed to notice things like that.”

  Frank grinned back, “for you I’ll make an exception.”

  I laughed, “well, thank you, kind sir.”

  “My pleasure. You’re meeting a friend?”

  I nodded, “Martha, my neighbour. We meet every Friday for lunch.” Suddenly I felt different, comfortable; as if I had known Frank all my life. “We go to that little pub on the seafront, they have awesome seafood, half price on Fridays.”

  “I didn’t know that. I love seafood, must try it out.”

  A tinny tune began to play, deep in my bag and I rummaged through the chaos, pulling out my mobile phone.

  “Kate, it’s me.”

  “Martha, hi. What’s up?”

  “Kate, I’m really sorry but I can’t make lunch. Sophie’s school just called; she’s sick, I have to pick her up.”

  “I hope it’s nothing serious?”

  “No. I’m sure it’s not. Why don’t I pop over tonight instead. I’ll bring wine.”

  I agreed and flipped the phone closed. “Looks like the seafood’ll have to wait.” I told Frank what Martha had said.

  He looked thoughtful … and hungry. “Would you like to join me for lunch instead? I wouldn’t mind trying that pub you mentioned, I’m rather partial to prawns.”

  I felt strangely pleased at the invitation.

  Danger, danger, danger

  I ignored the voice. I’m an adult; responsible and mature. So what if I have a little crush on Frank. He doesn’t feel that way about me.

  I smiled and drowned in Frank’s deep blue eyes, “I’d love to.”

  *

  Martha
’s eyes were wide, round and shocked. She took a large gulp of her drink. “What happened next?”

  Sipping serenely, I smiled at my friend. “He took me back to his place and we had kinky sex all afternoon.”

  Martha’s mouth fell open and I laughed.

  “Actually we had lunch. We ate seafood until neither of us could fit another scallop into our bellies, we shared a bottle of wine, or two, and we talked. He’s fascinating.”

  Martha frowned, “Kate, listen to yourself. You sound like a girl who’s just been asked out by the boy of her dreams.”

  I closed my eyes. Martha was right, I did sound like a love struck teenager. “It’s just a little crush,” I admitted, opening my eyes. “But it’s under control. He’s just a friend.”

  “But what about the dreams?”

  “What about them? It was you who suggested I should meet him and work out how I feel. Well, I have. I like him; he makes me laugh, he’s intelligent, sensitive, deep.”

  “And attractive,” finished Martha, “I told you to buy bread, I didn’t suggest a hot date.”

  I turned angrily, “what the hell. I’m living with a man who treats me like his best friend but nothing else – ”

  A man who’s gay?

  I shook my head, that was not going to come out. “—so if I choose to engage in a little harmless flirting … that’s my business.”

  Martha picked up the half full bottle of wine and filled both glasses, “how long is it since Will made love to you?”

  I drunk my whole glass of wine in three gulps, my anger disappearing as quickly as it had come.

  “I don’t know. It just never seems to happen any more. I’ve given up trying to persuade him, it’s demoralising and humiliating being turned down all the time.” I paused, “Frank made me feel good, like … like an attractive woman again, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him. Truly, we’re just friends.”

  “I believe you,” Martha became thoughtful, “but it’s pretty obvious what you need. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”

  “Another drink?” I suggested hopefully.

  Martha grinned and filled both glasses. “Not quite what I had in mind. You need sex, and lots of it.”

  I choked on my wine, “an affair? With Frank? It did cross my mind but –”

  Martha looked shocked. “Kate, I meant your husband.”

  Did I really say that?

  “I knew that. Anyway, I told you, Will’s not interested.”

  Gay, gay, gay!

  “Oh Kate, of course he’s interested. You have to pick the right time, don’t try and pounce after a late shift; wait until his next day off –”

  “That’s tomorrow.”

  “—great. Feed him his favourite food, favourite alcohol, maybe even a sexy movie on TV. Be sensual and passionate but don’t forget to be sensitive and loving. And, most importantly of all, be you.”

  “Anything else?” I enquired, smiling. I’d already worked out what to cook for dinner tomorrow.

  “Yes. I’ll take the kids for you. They can stay the night at my place with my brood.”

  “You’ve got it all planned, haven’t you?” I looked curiously at my friend.

  “Just speaking from experience,” Martha replied quietly.

  Stunned, I frowned, “but you and Dan are so much in love. You’d never need to seduce him.”

  “Not now, maybe, but a few years ago I had to use every weapon I owned just to stop him from leaving me. He had an affair.”

  I grasped my friend’s hand and she squeezed my fingers gently. “I just want to stop you from making the worst mistake of your life. Don’t fall for Frank, Kate.

  “Please.”

  Chapter six

  24 September

  “Still need dessert.” I frowned, deciphering my shopping list with difficulty, then smiled as a flash of red silk and lace from one of my many plastic bags distracted me. A picture flew into my head; me in my new, red, sexy undies; whipped cream; fluffy rug.

  Seduction.

  My grin grew, “well, anyone would taste good in those knickers,” I blinked and the picture changed. This time, blobs of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate covered my flat belly and the red silk made a striking contrast to the rich brown cake.

  I laughed out loud, earning a sideways glance from a young woman strolling towards me. The fantasy changed again and I gasped as a man’s tongue seduced the chocolate cake covering my body. My hands gripped the shopping bags hard as the man’s mouth moved slowly up towards my breasts, his dark hair tickling across my body, strong fingers gentle as they …

  Hang on.

  Hang on, just one second.

  Dark hair?

  That’s not right. I frowned, my steps faltering, Will had thick, light hair; ash blond. It must have been a trick of the light, I decided, the fantasy was set in a darkened room, lit by candles.

  I sighed.

  In a flash, reality was back, the fantasy gone. Silently and a little sadly I said farewell to the chocolate silk and strode into the familiar sights and smells of the bakery. Will adored chocolate and what better way to seduce my own husband than by whipping out his favourite dessert.

  Double choc, double fudge mud cake.

  Frank’s special cake.

  Everything was fine between me and Frank now, the awkwardness and embarrassment that stemmed from my insecurities had dissipated into dust. Frank was a handsome bloke, intelligent and knowledgeable, an amusing and loyal friend but that was all he was; a friend.

  I drank in the aroma encasing me. It got better every time I stepped through the door. There were customers sitting at the tables and two fat women standing at the counter, I ambled over and stood patiently behind them. Frank was nowhere to be seen and I found myself vaguely disappointed.

  Dreadlock man was serving the women, laughing and joking as he placed huge blueberry muffins into a paper bag. Turning and waving they disappeared from the shop.

  I stepped up to the counter. “I was after one of your gorgeous chocolate fudge cakes.” I examined the contents of the display cabinet.

  Dreadlock man grimaced. ‘sorry, love, sold the last one a couple of minutes ago. Got a great custard tart, though.”

  “I’ll bet you have,” I sighed again. “But I really needed something with lots and lots of chocolate. What else do you have?”

  Dreadlock man gestured towards a number of tasty looking chocolate treats and I studied the cakes. All delicious, delectable; they just weren’t quite right. A movement behind dreadlock man caught the corner of my eye and I gasped as the most glorious looking cake floated into the room. Dark and delicious, full-bodied and sexy, the double choc, double fudge mud cake took my breath away. I pointed firmly at it. “I’ll have that!”

  Dreadlock man laughed, a hearty guffaw that made me jump. “Sorry, love,” he spluttered, “don’t reckon he’s for sale.”

  Too late, I noticed who was carrying the masterpiece. Of course it’s Frank. I could feel my cheeks heat up, “I didn’t mean … I … the cake. I want that cake.”

  Dreadlock man winked conspiratorially, “that’s what they all say, love.”

  Frank grinned.

  I giggled, the funny side of the situation smacking me in the face. After all the dreams, the confusing thoughts, the nudity; I was now being offered the subject of my fantasies on a plate. I had seen this man naked after all; even if it was only in my mind. But so what; he had nothing to hide from me.

  And I had nothing to fear from him.

  I took a long, hard look at Frank, squinting my eyes and putting my head on one side like an inquisitive mouse. “You’d certainly look great, naked on a platter in the middle of my table –”

  “Might get a bit cold?” Frank shivered.

  “—and I’m sure you’d taste awesome with ice cream –”

  “Even better with whipped cream.”

  A vision popped back into my head. Dark hair, moist mouth, chocolate cake and whipped cream. I push
ed it away. So what if Frank has glossy dark hair? It had been Will in subdued lighting, that’s all.

  “But,” I finished with a flourish, “you just don’t have enough chocolate fudge icing, I’m afraid.”

  Frank looked pointedly at his perfectly iced cake. “You mean like this?” He placed the exquisite sample of chocolate perfection carefully into a box and slid it over the counter.

  Salivating, I nodded my thanks, a big smile on my face and put my shopping bags down to find my purse. “Next time I ask for one of these cakes, please say NO. I’ll end up as fat as a pig if I keep eating this. It’s just too good.” I looked despondently at the twenty dollar note I had found to hand over to Frank. “Fat and very, very poor.”

  My change consisted of a few mixed coins.

  “All you need is a good recipe and you could make one yourself, save a bit of cash. Then again,” he pretended to study my midsection, “it really wouldn’t suit you to be fat. You’re too short.”

  “What? I’m not short!”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Frank’s serious face was showing cracks, humour taking over. “There’s nothing wrong with short people, although they do tend to be a little … feisty.”

  “Feisty?”

  “Desperate to prove something.”

  “Prove what?”

  “Prove they’re really tall people in disguise.”

  “I don’t need to be tall. I don’t have to prove anything!”

  “Pretty feisty, though.”

  “I’m NOT feisty!” I looked up into Frank’s blue eyes, eyes that were approximately six feet higher than the floor he was standing on, and straightened my shoulders just a little.

  “Anyway,” Frank continued, “a recipe, that’s all you need.”

  “Recipe?”

  “For chocolate mud cake.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding, recipes don’t like me. It doesn’t matter what I do, they never turn out looking like the picture. Even those packet cake mixes … they fall apart.”

  “Do you sift the flour?”

  “What?”

  “Sift the flour? Get rid of lumps?”

  “No.”

  “Use butter or margarine?”

  “Margarine.”