Taste: A Love Story (30 page)

She’d looked the part of a senator’s daughter since she was old enough to shave and now at thirty, she was a perfectly constructed shell of a woman. Kara knew it was the reason she didn’t date a lot. The media attention was a nuisance, but there was more to why she hadn’t settled in with some rising VP of whatever at ABC big corporation, who would load her up in the car every season and head to their house on Coronado. It wasn’t only the cameras she’d tucked herself away from, because on some level she knew that guy—the Brad, Alex, or Sebastian—would be the final piece. Once that piece slid into place, after the fabulous Hotel Bel-Air wedding, complete with hundreds of her parents’ closest friends, Kara would be her mother. A younger, hipper, Bunko-instead-of-Bridge-playing accessory.

Kara laughed at herself. All of this introspection from a damn invitation. She needed to stop thinking this way if she was going survive the evening. She grabbed her purse, dimmed the lights, and the doorbell rang. That would be her driver. At least she had the backbone this year to get her own car.

She opened the door to Logan in a dark navy suit and plaid shirt opened at the collar. He was showered, shaved, and incredibly handsome. While Kara was looking for her words, Logan beat her to it.

“You look beautiful. Did you do something different to your hair?”

“Thank you. Yes, it’s a side sweep thing. Why . . .”

“Why am I here?” Logan asked smiling and Kara noticed the navy blazer brought out something different in his eyes.

“Yes, why are you here?” she asked.

“Because it was time.” Logan walked past her into the entryway. Kara was still confused. She peered out the door: no driver.

“Excuse me?” she asked and closed the front door.

“You’ve been to the farm, you came to the races, and you deal with me always being at The Yard. It’s time I did something.”

“That wasn’t for you. It was part of my job and the races were a blind—”

“Right, can I make my point here, princess?”

Kara held up her hands for him to continue.

“If you can get dirty and be in my world, work or not, I can join you for an evening in yours. There’s also the hope that after this party you will feel the need to thank me into the wee hours of the morning.”

His look was playful and Kara smiled.

“I like your world. I don’t mind being there and this”—she ran her hands along her skirt—“is not my world. It’s my duty, my one of six off-election-year events of my parents’ choosing. I think it’s very noble of you, but you’re going to want to get back in your truck and run.” She smirked. “As Grady likes to say, ‘You want no part of this shitstorm.’”

Logan smiled and she was touched that he was in her doorway offering.

“All the same, I think I do want in. You’ll be there. I’m all set, and besides, on my way up to your door I sent your driver home.”

Kara shook her head.

“Do you ever not get your way?”

“Oh, it happens all the time, princess. An awful lot when you’re around, now that you mention it, but tonight, I’d like to be there for you. If you don’t mind. Should I have worn a tie?”

Kara loved him. There it was. She had no idea how she was going to bring up his no-longer-deceased mother or how they were ever going to get past the games she was born into or the heartbreak of his childhood, but standing in her entryway, all of that seemed doable because she was in love with Logan Rye. He loved her too. He wouldn’t be there willing to tackle a shitstorm if he didn’t. Kara kissed him, took his hand, and the two of them headed to his truck.

They arrived at the Malendar home and Logan wasn’t sure “home” was the right word. It was massive and on close to twice the land his house sat on, gardens included. The things he could do with this much land. He would get rid of all the grass and have a separate—Christ, take a break, Logan told himself as the gates closed behind them and they followed the circular drive.

With the exception of a few survival tips, as she put it, Kara had been quiet the entire drive. He had no idea what was going through her mind and hoped his being there would help, not create more stress for her. She was all polished and beautiful, but caged was what came to Logan’s mind. She looked like a prime turkey, all decked out. Logan would keep that little metaphor to himself though. He’d learned at a very early age that farm comparisons, no matter how well intended, did not go over well with women. He once told his lab partner, freshman year of high school, that her hair reminded him of Penelope. When she’d asked who Penelope was, he had very proudly explained that she was their finest mare. His very pretty lab partner changed partners the next day.

Stopping in front of the valet, Logan turned to Kara. She gave him a small smile and accepted the hand of the kid who helped her out of his truck. The guy seemed like he hadn’t seen an actual truck in a while. Logan glanced over at the lot on the side of the house and understood why. Not a truck to be seen. If that was a 1969 Porsche over there, and he was pretty sure it was, Garrett would be losing his mind. The valet handed Logan the ticket.

“Thanks.” He joined Kara at the base of the stairs leading to the front door and placed his hand at the small of her back. He was relieved when she relaxed.

“You’re sure you want to do this? It’s not too late.” She looked up the huge staircase as if she was seeing it for the first time.

Logan had seen glimpses of polished, proper Kara Malendar, but this seemed a little extreme. He would admit it was a bit intimidating and he wasn’t sure how this woman and R. Kelly-dancing Kara could exist in the same person.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure, I’m fine.” She took his arm.

“Is there something I need to know about tonight? You seem awfully uncomfortable. Is it that bad?”

“No.” She patted his arm. “It will be fine. I’m just tired.” She gave a little smile and Logan took in another breath, then let it out slowly as they approached the door.

“I hope the food is good at least.”

Kara laughed and right then and there he understood that she needed him.

“Logan.” Senator Malendar crossed the room. “So glad you could join us. Happy New Year.”

“And to you, sir.” He shook Kara’s father’s hand.

“Sweetheart.” He turned his attention to his daughter and kissed her on the cheek. “You look perfect.”

Kara smiled and returned her father’s kiss.

“Well, I’m sure perfect is exactly what she was going for, Dad.” Grady joined them and shook Logan’s hand.

He leaned in to kiss Kara. “Jesus, sis, are you trying to get rid of this guy? Why would you do this to him?” he asked at her ear. Kara laughed and Logan saw her entire face change. Grady did that to her every time.

“I volunteered.” Logan smiled and put his hand at Kara’s back again. Sometimes it felt as if he was keeping her from falling over.

“Guys, will you excuse me, I need to mingle,” the senator said and before any of them could respond, he disappeared back into the crowd.

“You volunteered,” Grady repeated. “Brave man.” He put his arm around Logan. “We are going to need to get you a drink. This is not for the weak of heart and should never be undertaken sober.”

“Wait, I drove.” Logan laughed as Grady pulled him away from Kara.

“Mistake number two, my friend.” Grady gestured to his sister that they would be back in a minute. Logan turned as some guy approached Kara and her face became animated.

“Who’s that?” Logan asked as Grady brought him to the bar.

Grady glanced over his shoulder. “That is our mother’s latest pick. He’s thirty-four, Georgetown graduate, new to my father’s staff, and an analyst, whatever the hell that is. He likes to play golf and probably eats chia seeds and yogurt, give it up for Stew.”

Logan laughed at Grady’s introduction, but then his eyes were right back on Kara who was laughing too and touching Stew’s arm.

“His name is Stew?”

“It is”—Grady handed him what looked like Scotch, really nice Scotch—“and it’s spelled like the comfort food, so you two have something in common.”

He could tell Grady was trying to defuse his growing anxiety, but Logan grew less and less amused the more time Kara spent taking with this guy.

“Um, does you mother not know that we are, Kara and I are . . .”
Christ, what were they?

“Together?” Grady helped.

“Yes, thank you, together. Does she not know that? Has Kara not mentioned that we—” He turned to look at Grady who was doing a pretty crappy job of keeping his face neutral. “Oh, that’s it. She hasn’t. No one knows.”

“I know.”

Logan’s face felt warm, and even though he was trying for “Oh, that’s cool. We have an open thing going on,” he was sure Grady read the shock all over his face.

“Kate knows and Kara’s friends know. It’s just the parents are a different animal altogether.” Grady sipped his drink.

“So when your dad greeted me at the door?”

“Totally surprised to see you and even now is probably trying to figure out why you’re here.”

“Shit.” Logan finished his Scotch in two gulps as Kara stood still looking at the asshat’s phone. Something was funny, but that stifled, stuffed-inside funny, and Logan was about to find out what.

Grady made a feeble attempt to keep him at the bar, but Logan was on his way to his date.
That’s right, Stew, my date.

As Logan approached the lovely couple, Kara sent what looked like an SOS to Grady.

What the hell? Was Grady my damn babysitter now? Not in this lifetime, princess.

“Logan,” Kara exclaimed in that country club tone that he couldn’t tolerate, “this is—”

“Stew, yeah I already know. Nice to meet you, man.”

Stew shook his hand, but seemed surprised and just as Logan decided that he couldn’t care less, the Scotch hit him. Hard. One thing about the Rye men, they tended to be lightweights, okay maybe that was only Logan because Garrett was a damn fish, but Logan and his dad were light. And after a few, there were no filters. Some of his most honest conversations with Garrett were over drinks. Logan’s face grew a little numb and he took Kara’s hand. She didn’t pull away, just stared at him.

“Oh, are you two—” asshat started to ask.

“Sleeping together? Why yes we are, Stew.” Logan grinned.

Kara choked on her wine and Logan lightly patted her on the back.

“If you’ll excuse us, Stew. I’m just dying to dance with my girl here.”

Stew held up both hands and sort of gaped at Logan like he was a crazed animal. And he was. Kara, still recovering, went with him toward the back patio, and when he pulled her into his arms, she did that thing he also hated. She assessed the room.

“No one is looking, princess.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“Nanaism?”

Kara nodded still peering out of the corner of her eye as Logan turned to avoid crashing into another couple.

“What just happened?” Kara asked.

Logan held back a laugh, because he wasn’t sure exactly how much trouble he was in yet. “I made an entrance. I wasn’t going to sit there and watch you play country club with some guy who I’m pretty sure owns a blow-dryer. It’s not how I work.”

Kara nodded, looking unable to speak.

“No one, Kara? You’ve told no one,” Logan confirmed.

“I told Grady. Jake knows. This is just—”

“Some other part of your world where your mother still sets you up and you play along.”

“Yes, I guess that’s what this is. I didn’t ask you to come.”

“And now we know why. Stew over there may have gotten lucky.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m not. That was the Scotch Grady gave me talking.”

Kara glared over at Grady, who held up his glass to both of them.

“Damn, that stuff is strong.” Logan blinked his eyes and turned her again as they danced to avoid the edge of the patio.

Kara seemed to be considering something. Her eyes went to a crowd of women whispering out of the sides of their mouths and then, suddenly, Kara laughed. Full-body, pulsing against him with her face buried in his chest. It was the very best sound and when her eyes peeked up, still dancing with laughter, he saw her. Crazy-haired Kara was in there like a little girl playing dress up with far too much makeup on.

“Are we allowed to laugh?” Logan asked, smiling at her.

“Oh, Christ, who cares at this point? You just told my dad’s top analyst that we are sleeping together.” She laughed again. “The women we walked past are all in my mother’s bridge club and my father has suddenly stopped his all-important mingling to sidle up next to Grady at the bar, no doubt sent by my mother. He’s there to find out what ‘in all things holy’ is going on?”

Logan’s brow went up, but before he could ask, she answered.

“That’s a Momism, not to be confused with a Nanaism. Huge difference. I’ll explain later. Anyway, she’s sent my father to Grady to gather intel. I’m not sure why this feels so incredible, but it does. Look”—Kara leaned back—“my hands are shaking.”

“Is that a good thing?” Logan pulled her into him.

“It is a great thing. Anything that is not, as my father says, ‘perfect,’ is right where I want to be.”

He swayed her in his arms and his heart pounded in his chest as if it couldn’t get close enough. It was heady, more powerful than the Scotch, which was thankfully melting out of his system.