French Roast (19 page)
Authors: Ava Miles
Tags: #romance, #contemporary, #small town, #New Adult, #foodie romance
They walked to the door together. He put his coat on while she fiddled with her gold bracelets.
“I’m going crazy. First it’s one thing. Then it’s another. I’m struggling to keep up.”
Good. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one off balance, although he felt more centered now than he had in weeks. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Speaking of kettles,” he murmured in a husky tone. “Be ready to be stirred within an inch of your life tomorrow.”
“I don’t usually think of kettles being stirred,” she whispered.
“They are in my kitchen.”
Her sharp intake of breath told him everything he needed to know. He walked down the sidewalk. Her comment about them fighting over the dishwasher came to mind, making him grin.
They were going to burn the house down if they didn’t argue over how to set the fire first.
Chapter 24
P
eggy crawled off the couch when she heard the knock. Please, God, let it be Tanner. Her cold had taken up residence in her lungs, which had meant another day at home. Keith was there with her; the poor kid’s leg was hurting too badly for him to go to school.
What a pair they were. Last night, she’d held Keith while he cried, struggling not to cough all over him. Dickens couldn’t have scripted a sadder scene.
Even pulling the door open took effort. When she saw Mac Maven on her front step, she thought she had finally gone crazy. Was her fever causing hallucinations?
“You look as though you’ve had a tough night. I brought the patient something to cheer him up.” He jiggled the bag. “I also brought you lunch. Chicken noodle soup.”
Surprise made her back up.
He wiped his shoes before coming inside. “Where are you holed up?”
“Living room.”
He took her arm like some candy striper, minus the pink and peppiness. Her whole head was a mass of pain, congestion, and fuzziness. His presence made it wobble. Why was he here?
Keith rolled over on the floor, taking his eyes off the endless parade of Disney movies she’d stuck in the DVD player to keep his mind off his leg.
“Hi, Keith,” Maven said as he led her to the couch. “I brought you something. There’s this great rule. When you go to the hospital, people bring you presents. I didn’t think you’d like flowers.”
The fire engine wrapping paper made Keith’s eyes widen. “Nah, they’re for girls.”
Maven sat down beside her son on the floor. The contrast between his navy blazer and slacks and Keith’s Spiderman pajamas couldn’t have been more striking.
“I like the color of the cast. Blue’s my favorite color. How does it feel?”
“Hurts. I couldn’t sleep.”
Maven ruffled his hair. “I bet, but it will get better. Before you know it, you’ll be riding your bike again. Why don’t you open your gift? I thought it would be a good accessory for when you get back on your bike.”
He tore off the paper. His breath rushed out. “Man, this is so cool! Mom, look!”
It was the most excited she’d seen him in a week. God, she must be an exhausted, germ-infested wreck because tears welled up. She used her last strength to get a grip.
“I see.”
“A Woody bike helmet. I love
Toy Story!
This is the best-est present ever.”
Keith couldn’t open the box, so Maven drew out a Swiss army knife and cut the tape.
“How did you know I like him?” Keith stroked the shiny helmet.
Woody’s face grinned, his wide eyes reminding her of insane asylum residents. Man, animators produced some weird stuff.
“Lucky guess,” Maven commented as he rose. “Besides, I thought you might like to pretend you have a law enforcement job like your mom.”
Peggy couldn’t take her eyes away from Maven as he came closer and sat on the couch.
“You look stunned,” he murmured so Keith couldn’t hear. “Did you think I’d bring him poker chips?”
Since she’d been less than nice to him yesterday, she understood the sarcasm. “No, and I’m not assuming you bought him a bike helmet because you think I’m a bad mother. He has one,” she added, wanting to defend herself. “He doesn’t like to wear it. Constant battle.”
Maven folded his arms. “With safety being one of your principal concerns, I expected no less. He’s a kid. Helmets aren’t cool. I tried to get him one that was.”
“It was very nice of you,” she said, her heart wringing as she watched her little boy put the helmet on before turning back to the movie.
“Of course, you may have trouble getting him to take it off so you can wash his hair.”
Peggy didn’t move away when his warm thigh pressed against her. She simply noticed the firm muscle beneath the immaculate crease of his pants.
“I don’t care as long as he’s happy.”
Maven reached for her arm and helped her up. “Spoken like an overtired, concerned mother. Let’s get some soup in you.”
Peggy sank into the kitchen chair, watching him open cabinets until he found what he needed. The domestic movements didn’t diminish his manliness. With its strong cheekbones and square jaw, his face could have been the model for one of those fancy busts in a museum. When he placed the soup bowl in front of her, she simply curled forward. The steam was magic, warming the cheekbones she wasn’t sure would ever stop throbbing.
“That bad, huh?” Maven commented from behind her. There was a sandpaper-like sound, and then his palms settled on her back. The warmth spread out like a shock wave.
“What are you, Mr. Miagi?” she asked, barely able to hold herself up.
He chuckled. “I played poker in a three-day tourney in Hong Kong a few years ago. By the second day, my cold had me playing on fumes. One of the locals was impressed with my playing. When he offered to help ease my cold symptoms so I could finish the game, I let him. Desperation makes you open to new experiences. Seemed a bit odd when he put his hands on my chest, but it worked. I won the entire pot ten hours later. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me putting my hands on your chest, so this will have to do.” His hands were still on her back.
“You thought right.” Although she could imagine it—barely.
“Of course, I can’t guarantee this will work, but there’s something about energy medicine and the body. Like reiki. It’s all the rage.”
She blew on the soup to increase the steam. “Where’d you hear that?”
“I like to read. Plus, I was curious after that guy made me feel better. When I get curious, I find out stuff.”
She became aware of Keith singing along with the movie he was watching. Was that
Kill the Beast
again? Whatever Maven was, he’d worked a miracle by taking her son’s mind off the pain, something she’d been too sick to accomplish.
Her hands reached for the spoon blindly. When she took the first taste, she almost purred. Her throat might be the size of a straw, but the hot soup was as soothing as butter on a burn.
“Better?”
“Yes,” she answered, a noodle pirouetting off her spoon and back into the bowl.
“Good.” His hands rubbed her back, once, twice, before falling away.
The chair scraped as he sat down opposite her.
“Why are you here?” she asked between spoonfuls.
“I wanted to check on Keith. Plus, I’m more than a little interested by you. It’s been a while since I’ve met someone who intrigues and challenges me like you do.”
Right, he was a curious sort of guy. She’d have to remember that.
“Plus, when I get involved in something, I like to see it through.”
“Me too,” she agreed, realizing she’d eaten all the soup.
“You should put a pot on the stove. Steam your face.”
How did he know these things? It made him seem like a normal person and not some jet-setting poker player. Then she remembered what he’d said about a sister and a nephew.
“I will. My brother’s coming over to be with Keith again.”
He took the bowl to the sink. “It’s hard for you to ask for help.”
Jeez, how did he know these things? The hot tea he put in front of her warmed her hands. But it did nothing to thaw her feelings about his plans for Dare. “I won’t change my mind about the hotel.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did so suddenly, but I am hoping you change your mind about it—and me.”
The interest in his gaze couldn’t be missed when she looked back. “You must be crazy. I look like shit.”
He gave her a smile as warm as the tea. “I’m good at seeing the possibilities in a hand.” When he rose, he smoothed a hand down her hair. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you when you’ve brushed your hair. I’ll leave you now.”
“I’m sick,” she explained, wishing she had a hoodie sweatshirt on so she could flip it over her wild hair.
“You won’t always be.” He leaned down until their heads were close together.
“Everyone’s calling you a hero for helping Keith yesterday,” she said, testing him.
“I did what anyone else would. Get better. I’ll see you soon.”
As he said his goodbyes, Keith made him sign his cast. The signature was as bold as the man. Maven winked as he passed her on his way out the door. She could only marvel at the change in the room. Keith was happier. And she didn’t feel like she’d swallowed a block of ice.
Things were getting weirder and weirder. Part of her couldn’t wait to get better. She’d show him.
Brush her hair, indeed.
Chapter 25
M
aking Jill a fancy meal would be the perfect way to start their
we’re living together
agreement. He’d arranged for someone at work to swap shifts with him. He wanted to romance her, and then he wanted to make her moan.
He studied the perfect beige color of the mushroom veloute soup, hoping she’d like it. The mushrooms’ earthy smell blended perfectly with the fresh dill saturating his kitchen. Good soup needed to simmer so that all the ingredients came together. He’d take it to Jill’s later and finish it off with heavy cream. The Spanish chorizo and French bread he’d made would be the perfect accompaniment.
Someone knocked on the door, and he set the bamboo spoon aside to answer it. Mutt trailed after him, dragging his slobbery blanket. Time to face the music and trust his decision. He squared his shoulders and turned the knob.
Simca gave him a warm smile, her blouse buttoned this time—so far. “I got your message.” She breezed inside, her crimson pashmina shawl trailing like a matador’s cape.
“I’ve done some thinking, Sim.” He took a deep breath. “I need a little longer to make a decision about the restaurant.”
She made a moue with her red-painted mouth. “Ah. The new hotel has changed things, no? I wondered.”
The unfairness of his situation smarted all over again. He hadn’t expected to be denied possible employment in Dare. It was just another reminder he was damaged goods professionally.
“No, he won’t hire me,” he said. “He heard about what happened in New York.” He went into the kitchen and made them espressos. “That’s beside the point, though. Jill and I are together now. Moving to New York would mean leaving her. I’m sorry to ask for more time, but it’s a big decision.”
Her diamond necklace flashed when she caressed her throat. “I am sorry he won’t consider hiring you.” She took the espresso he handed her, sipped, and sighed. “Even so, the hotel adds all sorts of possibilities. What if I were willing to open a place here with you? This new hotel’s guests can’t eat on-site the whole time they’re there. I want to work with you, Brian. Help you restart your career. We don’t have to go to New York. It won’t have the same cache, but Aspen and Breckenridge have made it work. We will make people come to us.”
He placed his coffee on the countertop carefully so it wouldn’t spill. “Are you serious?”
She shrugged. “I could stay here for maybe two, three years. Ensure it’s established. Then I would turn it over to you.”
A place here. Of his own. Near Jill. “Tell me you’re joking.”
She shook her head, making her honey-blond hair sway like willow branches. “I told you how badly I want to make amends. Plus, this little town has its charm. I’m finding it rather nice to be away from New York’s high-pressured culinary scene.”
He had gotten so used to fighting for everything lately, it felt incredible to have this offer fall into his lap. “I don’t know what to say.” His heart pounded. “You do realize that even if you stay, I still plan to be with Jill.”
“But of course. Now say yes.” She laughed, caressing her fur-clad purse. “Or at least that you’ll think about it.”
His jaw locked. God, how he wanted to say yes on the spot. Then he thought of Jill. How would she feel about him going into business with his ex-lover in Dare?
Not good, he expected.
And they’d agreed to see if they could ‘gel.’ His idea.
“I can almost see it,” she continued. “We’ll create an innovative menu that bridges the East Coast with the West, combining elegance with rugged individualism.”
His mouth watered. “It’s an incredible vision.”
She lifted her chin in that playful way of hers and cocked her head. He had a flashback to a time when he would have kissed her on the spot. “And I’ve only just started.”
He picked up his cup and took a sip, realizing that working with her would be a minefield of complications. But the magic? The way they saw and created food? Well, the temptation to give it a go and deal with the complications called to his soul.
“Like I said before, I’ll need some time to think about it. Would you be willing to wait until the city council vote on the new hotel? My…life is tied to it.” That was all he was going to say.
“I understand. I’ve heard Jill is temporarily working with the owner.” She set her cup aside. “I don’t have to get back to New York right away. You’ll have your own thoughts about the menu, of course. I can already see the food review on the restaurant. We’ll show Andre. No one puts us down.”
He led her out and didn’t stop her when she kissed him on both cheeks. “This is our chance,
chérie
.”
When she left, he sank onto the couch. Could he really have it all? If he could win back Jill’s trust, would she be okay with him going into business with Simca?
Mutt head-butted his leg. A bitter laugh sputtered out. It was easier to imagine Jill smacking him than accepting that option with open arms.
***
No amount of working with Mac could keep Brian’s imminent move out of Jill’s head. Thoughts of them being
together
tantalized her. But she persevered, planning with Mac like a woman possessed.
Since his office wasn’t ready yet due to the accelerated timetable, they used her coffee shop as their headquarters. From time to time Margie would rap on her office door to announce a local VIP’s presence, and Jill would introduce him or her to Mac. He shook hands and smiled, selling his vision like a true politician but without the creepy fakeness. The guy was a natural marketer and knew how to make people feel like they were the only thing in the world that mattered. She’d only changed a few items in his spiel.
She made calls, inviting various people to lunch or dinner. The city council meeting was in less than three weeks. The vote took front and center.
Tanner strolled through the door, interrupting her thoughts. “Hi there,” he said, pulling off his gloves. “I was hoping to meet the man that came to my nephew’s rescue and survived my sister pulling a fake gun on him. I’m Tanner McBride.”
Mac rose in one smooth line like he’d been doing for the past hour, meeting everyone from locals to graduate school professors with apparent ease.
“Mac Maven. Good to meet you. I’ve read your articles. Please, join us. I was happy I could help your sister and nephew.”
“You have my deepest thanks.”
The men shook hands. Firm grip. Brief clasp. Jill liked watching the testosterone clench. Handshakes told a lot about people. Here were two self-assured males.
Tanner leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Hi, Jill.”
“Finally getting around to me, are you? We’re only related.”
He squeezed her shoulder and then took a seat beside them. “We’ve had more people than usual visiting
The Independent
today. Lots of chatter about the hotel development you’re proposing, Mac.”
“Good chatter or bad chatter?” Jill asked, tucking her leg under her.
As Tanner shrugged out of his jacket, he lifted a shoulder. “Some of both, as you’d expect. People have been impressed with what they’ve been hearing, and Jill’s support has been commented on so much her grandfather is thinking about disowning her for the next few weeks to protect the paper’s appearance of neutrality.”
“Great,” Jill muttered. “I’m being disowned.”
“I’ll have to pay you more,” Mac mused.
Tanner chuckled and reached for Jill’s paper coffee cup. “Arthur’s old fashioned when it comes to objective journalism.”
“Jill, would you mind giving me some time with Tanner?” Mac asked. “I’m a real admirer of your articles.”
Tanner turned away from Jill, but not before giving her a wink. “That’s always nice to hear.”
“You have an incredible ability to help people who’ve never been in war visualize it.”
Mac had her brother-in-law’s full attention, so Jill slipped out of her chair. God, she didn’t want to tell him about Brian moving in with her. Heck, she didn’t want to tell anyone in her family after the way they’d acted.
“I’m sure it’s nothing like the real thing, but…”
Mac’s voice faded as she headed for the counter. Time for dueling espresso machines, she decided. Nothing shut her mind down like the competition.
“Okay, let’s see who gets the prize today,” she announced as her customers crowded around to watch.
She beat Margie by five seconds. “Someone’s been practicing.”
“It’s my life’s dream to beat the boss.”
“Hah!” Yanking the dish towel from around her waist, she sailed over to Mac and Tanner and took a bow.
“Pretty impressive,” Mac commented. “I would never have thought of it.”
“Not everyone can do pianos. The locals love it.” She handed Tanner his favorite coffee, and plopped down into a chair. “Since you haven’t ordered yet.”
“Thank you.”
He saluted her with the mug. “To dueling espressos.”
The dueling reference made her think of Peggy. She would have been a kick-ass sheriff back in the Old West. She turned to Mac. “Hey, whaddaya say we go see Peggy and Keith? I’ve been wanting to drop in since I heard about his accident. Poor kid.”
“Wonderful. I can give Peggy the statistics on crime at my hotels.”
“You have crime?” Jill blurted out, making people’s heads turn.
He cleared his throat. “No, compared to the major gambling hotels, we have a very low incidence of crime and zero tolerance. I’m just hoping to reassure her.”
Tanner rubbed his jaw. “Peggy’s impressions…won’t be easily swayed.”
Mac must have heard the same warning in Tanner’s voice as Jill did. They both turned to stare at him.
“Anything you want to share?” Jill asked.
He rose quickly. “No, brother’s privilege. Peg’s opinions are her own, and I respect them.”
Mac also stood and put out his hand. “I don’t expect her to change her beliefs. All I want to do is make her feel better.”
Tanner took it and nodded. “Good to meet you, Mac. Jill, I’ll be seeing you.” His hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Can’t wait,” she replied breezily. “Tell Mere and Gramps hello.”
When he left, Mac sat back down and finished off his coffee. “Are you serious about going to see Peggy?”
“Yes.” He might be a famous poker player, but even she could see the speculation in his eyes.
“Great. I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more.”
She waved at a group of newcomers. “I’ll go get my purse.”
Eyeing the clock in her office, she picked up the purse. In the silence, the hands ticked like an old-fashioned bomb in a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon.
She and Brian were going to have sex in a few hours.
He was moving in with her for almost three weeks.
She was trying to convince the town to reinstate gambling.
Could her life be any more complicated? All she wanted to do was get in her car and head out of town. She took a couple of deep breaths.
What she needed was serious mental discipline—the kind Depak Chopra talked about—to drive out any bad thoughts when they were together. Like anything related to the French Barbie doll and her perfect body and honey skin. Why did some older chick in her forties have the beauty edge? No, they had made a rule. No outside talk.
Nothing was more important than finding out if they could be together.