Starting From Scratch (26 page)

“Are you enticing me with the promise of sex?”

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“Damn right, I am. What do you think? Will you

come with us?”

“Only if you’ll come to my grandmother’s with me for

pot roast on Sunday.”

We stood looking at each other. Neither of us said it

in so many words, but this was a big moment. is was the

two of us telling one another that we thought we had a

future together, that we wanted a future together. It was

exhilarating and exciting and frightening and I could feel

my palms begin to sweat.

“Deal,” she said and we both breathed sighs of relief.

“What about Max?” I didn’t know how to ask if he

knew his mother was not only dating somebody who

wasn’t
his Cece, but somebody who
was
his tee-ball coach,

or even how much he understood about what “dating”

actually meant.

“We’ve been talking. A lot,” she said. “And we’ll talk

some more.” I must have grimaced or something because

she caressed my eyebrow with her thumb as if trying to

smooth away any apprehension I might have. “Don’t

worry,” she whispered. “It’ll be fine. I’ve got to get back.”

She kissed me sweetly once more and was out into the

night before my head had stopped whirling. “You look

fabulous, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder as she

scooted quickly down the sidewalk. “I’ll call you later.”

Only then did I have a chance to even look at her

body, to appreciate the sway of her hips and the way the

calf-length yoga pants hugged her ass like a lover’s hands.

e breeze rustled her hair and I realized I could still smell

her coconut shampoo as it hung in the air of the foyer.

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As if she knew I was watching, she turned back when

she got to her own sidewalk and gave me a little wave, then

disappeared into her house six doors down.

I closed my door and leaned back against it with an

enormously satisfied sigh, thinking I’d just been hit by

Hurricane Elena. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I touched

them, closed my eyes, and could almost feel her mouth on

mine. I could still taste her, a little sweet, a little salty.

I was in love.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Having grown up in a very quiet, sparsely populated

household with one television set, my favorite escape had

been to find a peaceful corner and read a book. So it was

pretty easy to see how Elena’s family might overwhelm me.

ere seemed to be dozens of them—though in reality

there were probably only ten or so—and they all talked at

the same time. I was reasonably sure that nobody was

actually listening to what anybody else was saying. After

the initial onslaught, though, I found it sort of amusing

and sat back to observe.

e day was sunny and hot, a typical July afternoon in

Upstate New York. I sat at a picnic table in the shade next

to Elena’s sister-in-law Carrie, and watched the four kids

run around the yard as I sipped iced tea. Carrie and Elena’s

mother—whose name was Maria—were discussing fresh

herbs versus dried ones. I got the impression Carrie was

new at cooking and was picking Maria’s brain for all the

information she could get.

“What about you, Avery?” Maria asked, catching me

off-guard. “Do you cook?”

“I bake.”

“Yeah? What do you bake?”

I gave a half-shrug. “Mostly cookies. Cakes. Nothing

fancy.”

Georgia Beers

“Don’t listen to her, Mama.” e bench sank slightly as

Elena took a seat next to me. e warmth of her hand

radiated through the skin of my knee and I smothered a

grin of delight. “She makes incredible cookies. Incredible.

Ask Max.”

Maria nodded. “Well, Max
is
a world renowned cookie

expert. Do you have children?”

“I don’t. I have a dog.” I wondered how much Elena

was catching, sitting right next to me, but chatting with

her sister-in-law. It was clear to me that Maria was feeling

me out, possibly trying to decide if I warranted her

approval as an acceptable match for her only daughter.

“Dogs are wonderful, but not quite the same as having

kids.”

Duh.
“No. No, they’re definitely not the same.”

“Do you want to have children of your own?” she

asked, and I almost choked on my sip of iced tea.

“It’s never really come up.” Even I was shocked by

how easily the fib slipped from my lips.

“Mama, will you stop interrogating her please?”

Elena’s voice was soft and gentle, but had a firmness to it.

So she
had
been listening.

“What? I’m not interrogating her, we’re just talking.”

Maria pouted and I saw a quick flash of Max that made

me smile. “Right, Avery?”

“Mama,” Elena warned her mother before I could

answer.

Maria snorted and waved a hand dismissively at her

daughter. I got the distinct impression they bickered like

this often, it was part of their life and hard feelings were

rarely, if ever, present. Elena went back to her conversation

with Carrie, but squeezed my knee, then stroked the back

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of it with her fingertips. e jolt that was sent straight to

my groin surprised even me. I cleared my throat and took a

large slug of my iced tea. I was pretty sure there was a

subtle, satisfied smirk on Elena’s face as she listened to

Carrie talking about her hair stylist.

Despite the noise and endless activity, I liked Elena’s

family a lot. Her parents seemed to be sweet, genuine

people who welcomed me into their midst. Her father, Ed,

was quiet compared to the rest of the gang and stayed

rooted to his spot at the grill most of the day, though he

shook my hand with sincere pleasure to “finally” meet me. I

threw Elena a look that said,
“Finally?”
, but she pretended

not to see it. Her brothers teased her mercilessly, but I also

got the impression they were extremely protective of her.

Her older brother Jason corralled me into a seemingly

endless conversation about my job and though he didn’t

come right out and ask me, I was pretty sure he wanted to

find out if I made a respectable salary. But he was nice and

funny and I didn’t mind spending the time bantering with

him.

e other thing that was endless was the food. Along

with constant cookies and chips and various nibbles, there

was the cookout itself. An interesting mix of traditional

American summer barbecue fare like hot dogs,

hamburgers, and potato salad, and some Greek dishes, such

as a feta-and-spinach couscous, bite-sized
spanikopita
, and

the sticky, sweet, crazy delicious baklava Maria made from

scratch. I tried hard not to make a pig of myself, but it was

heavenly and after my second piece of dessert, I made her

promise to one day teach me how to properly construct it,

having never been able to get it right on my own.

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We finally left Max around nine o’clock and he hardly

noticed. Two of his cousins were also staying overnight at

Ed and Maria’s, so he was much more interested in

catching fireflies than coming home with his mother.

Once shut safely in Elena’s car, we both heaved big

sighs of relief, then burst into laughter.

“Holy crap,” I said.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Is your family ever quiet?”

She made a thinking face and pursed her lips. “Um…

no.” She started the car and pulled out onto the street,

heading us in the direction of home. “Really, though, was it

bad?”

e authenticity of her worry was adorable and I

patted her bare leg. “No, sweetie, I had a great time. I like

your family a lot.”

“Oh, good.” She seemed genuinely comforted by my

reassurance.

“ere was one thing that was bad, though.”

“ere was? What?”

“You.” I slid my hand slowly up her thigh, happily

watching her throat move as she swallowed. I’d been dying

to touch her for the past several hours—since she’d begun

her teasing of me, which she’d continued throughout the

day—and I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Me?”

“Yes. You.” I shifted so I was close enough to speak in

her ear as she drove. I kept my voice low, a little sexy.

“What were you trying to do to me, pawing at me under

the table with your mother right there? Give me a heart

attack? Make me slide off the picnic bench? Hmm?” I

pushed my hand between her legs, roughly clamping

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against her, feeling the heat radiating from her center right

through her shorts. “You’d better get us home quickly or

I’m going to have my way with you right here in this car

while you’re driving.” I punctuated my threat with a quick

flick of my tongue against her earlobe.

“Jesus Christ,” she said with a hiss and pushed down

on the gas pedal a little harder. “I hope I don’t drive us off a

cliff.”

“So do I. It would be a shame for you to die before I

can finish what I’ve started.”

We got back to my place in record time and I have no

idea how because I was too busy sucking on Elena’s neck

to keep track of our progress. She’d barely shifted the car

into park before I was around to her side and pulling her

out. e leftovers her mother had sent home with us would

just have to wait; I dragged her up the walk, fumbling with

my keys.

Once inside, I gestured up the stairs with my chin.

“Go. Now. I’ll let Steve out and be right up.” Her face

was flushed as she nodded, but no sooner had she reached

for the banister, than I said, “Wait.” Grabbing her face with

both hands, I kissed her. Hard, deep, and with purpose.

en, forcibly pulling away, I said, “Okay. Go. I’ll be right

up.”

Elena seemed to sway on her feet slightly before

turning and heading upstairs. I felt a twinge of satisfaction

in knowing I could undo her the same way she undid me.

A little surge of guilt hit me for not giving Steve a

little more attention, but I had pressing matters awaiting

me in my bedroom and I promised him I’d make it up to

him as I grabbed a couple treats from his jar and lured him

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upstairs with them, depositing them on his dog bed in the

corner of the room.

ere’s something indescribably breathtaking about

having a beautiful woman naked in your bed, waiting for

you. I stood at the foot, just looking at her and wondering

how the hell I got so lucky. e yellow of the comforter

and the sage green sheets were the perfect complement to

her skin tone and dark hair. Her cheeks were still flushed

and she gripped the sheet in her fingers, her deep plum

nail polish matching the bedding nicely.

“My God, you’re sexy,” I breathed.

Her expression shifted, telling me she’d liked the

comment. “Get over here.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” I peeled my clothes off,

my eyes never leaving hers.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Our lovemaking that night was every bit as intense as

it had been the first time, but it was also something else,

something different. Something more. We caressed and

teased and groaned and arched, sweat-slicked skin against

sweat-slicked skin. We battled for the position of top,

making a mess of the bedding, Elena winning out most of

the time (not that I minded having that beautiful body

above me). I tried hard to focus, to be sure every detail…

each smell and taste and sound…was burned into my

memory, for I knew—
I knew
—this was a turning point in

my life. I don’t know how and it’s kind of a corny thing to

say, but I felt a shift in my world that night.

Elena on top was a sight to behold. Holy good God.

Her body was stunning as she straddled me, sleek and lean,

her breasts small, her hips rounded. I grasped her waist,

slid my hands down to her thighs, and as she straightened

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up, basically sitting above me, I couldn’t help thinking how

utterly, gloriously female she was. It took my breath away

—or so I thought until I dipped my hand between her legs

and she arched with a groan, tossing her head back—and

the rest of the air left my lungs.

Knowing I’d created the wet heat around my fingers

spurred me on and I picked up the pace, reaching for her

breast with my other hand, kneading it as I bent my own

legs and braced her back with my knees. She fell forward,

catching herself on her hands so she was on all fours over

me, and still I kept my rhythm. Our faces were only inches

apart, as she turned her head slightly and sucked in a

breath through her teeth, telling me how close she was.

“Come on,” I coaxed her. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ve

got you.” She rocked against my hand and I could hear her

fingers digging into the pillow on either side of my head.