Preston (Members From Money Book 28)
Page 4
“I lean more towards action. I take it you're into sappy romances?” he asked teasingly, with a glint in his light green eyes. Addison stared at the transformation and then responded. “Tasteful romance with a touch of adventure and lots of drama.”
“Same difference,” he said with a straight face.
“How about this?” She stopped on an action movie with a well-known actor.
*****
“Perfect.” He looked away from her and concentrated on the movie. His eyes strayed to her every few minutes and admired the curve of her cheek. Her laughter at one point had him staring at her again and he found desire sparking through him again, this time stronger. He got to his feet abruptly and caused her to look up at him. “I am turning in. Stay and enjoy the movie.” Without waiting for an answer he hurried out, leaving her staring after him.
Chapter 4
He woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and bacon and realized that he felt ridiculously happy that she was still there. He'd spent the night twisting and turning on the bed as he thought about her in the next room.
He got up and put on his robe over the sweat pants and shirt he had on and walked in the direction of the kitchen. “Something smells awfully tasty.”
“I figured I would make breakfast before I left.” She took out the sizzling bacon and put it on the plates next to the scrambled eggs. There was also toast browning lightly in the toaster oven.
“That’s very thoughtful.” He sat at the counter. She was dressed and her hair scooped back into a ponytail that swung each time she moved. “I really appreciate everything you've done for me.”
“It’s what good neighbors do,” she said lightly as she passed him the plate. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you.” He looked at her as he sipped his coffee. “What about you?”
“It took me a little while to fall asleep because of the strangeness of the place but I did eventually.” She sat opposite him and started eating. “I'm glad that you're okay.”
“So am I. I've gotten my appetite back,” he said with a smile as he dug in.
“I can see that.”
******
They ate in silence for a while and for the first time since being with a total stranger she didn't feel the awkwardness and the need to fill in the silence with baseless conversation. She'd always done well by herself, preferring to escape with a very good book or bury her head into her writing, but with him she didn't feel that way.
“Seconds?” she asked as he pushed away the empty plate and sipped his coffee.
“I'm afraid I'm full. Thank you.” His light green eyes met hers and held. She got to her feet and took his plate along with hers to the sink and started washing them.
“I should be doing that,” he protested.
“You're still not well enough. I don’t mind, really,” she told him with a shrug as she continued washing.
“You're spoiling me.” His tone was soft and caused her to turn her head and look at him.
“We all deserve some spoiling every now and then.” Her tone was light but her heart was hammering inside her chest.
“I'm going to have to return the favor someday.”
“Hopefully it won't be with me lying in bed with a raging fever.” She folded the dish cloth and put it away. “Any refills?” she asked indicating his cup.
“Yes, please.” He passed her the cup. She took it from him and poured the coffee before passing it back to him.
“You're not having any?”
“I'm going to be heading back now.”
“Oh.” Addison could have sworn that there was a bit of disappointment in his voice but she wasn't going to assume anything. That would be foolish. Just because she was feeling a little bereft that she had to go didn't mean that he was feeling the same way. “Want me to walk you back?”
“Absolutely not!” she told him firmly. “You still need to take it easy. I haven't done my usual run this morning so I'll do a brisk walk instead.” She looked at him. “The fever's all gone?”
“Come and check for yourself.”
She hesitated and then moved towards him to place the back of her hand on his forehead. His temperature was normal. She started to take her hand away when he reached up and took it in his. “You would make a great nurse.”
“No stomach for blood.” Her heart tripped as he continued to hold her hand.
“My own Florence Nightingale,” he murmured as he stared at her hand in his before looking up at her. “I am in your debt.”
“I'll find a way for you to pay me back.” The atmosphere in the kitchen was getting heated and it had nothing to do with the fire she'd started when she'd gotten up.
Suddenly his eyes cleared and he let go of her hand immediately, his expression becoming bleak. He got to his feet abruptly and moved away from her. “I'll go and get your jacket.”
Addison gave a wry smile as she watched him stride quickly towards the living room. She followed behind him and took the jacket from him, putting it on and zipping it up. “Well, I'll see you.”
“Thank you again,” his tone was stilted and he avoided looking at her.
“No problem,” she opened the door and the cold air met them, causing him to shiver a little. “Take care,” she told him and then closed the door behind her and made her way down the steps. She walked swiftly with her hands buried in the pockets of her jacket and not once turned to see if he was watching her, even though she wanted to.
*****
Preston wandered through living room moodily. She'd been gone for the past two hours and still he was unable to sit and take his mind off of her. He'd come into the kitchen and seen her at the stove and it had felt so right. He'd watched her for a moment before announcing his presence and it had felt as if they both belonged in the kitchen together. He'd held her hand and felt the familiar stirring of desire, and that was when he'd clammed up and returned to reality. He was not his brother. Parker would have had her in his bed at the get go and she would have wanted him to. He was Preston: sober and careful. He hadn't brought any protect with him because to him this was a trip to get his head on straight and he wasn't a man who fell into bed at the drop of a hat, no matter how beautiful the woman was. And Addie was beautiful, no doubt about that! But his life was complicated and hers probably was too. Why else would a woman who looked like her be hiding out there in the middle of nowhere? He'd gone there to gain some perspective and to grieve quietly for his brother. What was she doing there? He went back into the kitchen. She'd certainly done a good job of cleaning up and she'd gone out of her way to take care of him. He sat heavily on the stool and placed his head into his hands. He had to put aside the attraction he was starting to feel. Certainly it was due to the fact that she had taken care of him and they were far away from civilization.
*****
Addison put away the laptop and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. It had been three hours since she'd gotten back from his place and try as she might to concentrate on what she was doing she couldn't do so. She put the kettle on to make some hot chocolate. The snow had eased up but the surroundings were icy cold. She had immediately started a fire and in no time the cabin was cozy and warm. She puttered around with the idea of making a pie. She'd seen some sweet potato in the pantry and there were eggs and butter and milk as well as uncooked pie crusts. She had no opportunity to cook or bake anything when she was at home in her apartment because she was always too busy. Both she and Annmarie had learned to cook in their mother’s kitchen when they were just little girls. Althea Duncan had been a single parent ever since her husband had died of a heart attack when the girls were little. Althea had been a nurse’s aide at the time and had quit her job to start making pies and different pastries to sell to the nearby grocery stores and neighbors. She'd racked up quite a reputation and very soon her kitchen had turned into a bakery with delectable smells coming from it. She'd drawn her two daughters in with her and they had learned along the w
ay. The money she earned from baking had sent both sisters to college and put clothes on their backs and food on their table. Addison blinked as she remembered the strong black woman who had taken adversity and turned it into something wonderful. She'd died two years earlier from a massive stroke and both girls never stopped talking about her. “For you Mama,” she whispered as she reached for the potatoes and started cooking them on the stove top.
In no time she'd made the filling and put the pie inside the oven. She wiped her hands on the apron and smiled as she sniffed the air. The smell was heavenly! She'd dug around and found a few pieces of pecan and of course whipped cream. She'd also made fried chicken for dinner. She might as well go all the way, she thought as she prepared the salad. She refused to think that she was actually cooking for two instead of just herself. If by chance he was to come by she would invite him to dinner but otherwise she would stay and enjoy the meal on her own.
*****
“This is a mistake,” he muttered as he paced the length of the living room. “You're here to get your life in order not to complicate it any further. You cannot go and see her because you know what this is leading up to.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the faded jeans he'd put on. He had showered and changed and had brushed his hair. He had been sitting on the sofa for ten minutes, wondering if he should really g visit her. She'd just left a few hours ago so there was no need for him to go and look for her. And besides, he wasn't strong enough as it was. He still felt the weak tremors inside his body from the fever so he should probably be lying down and getting some more rest.
“Go for it bro,” he heard his brother’s voice inside his head. “I'm sure she wants this as much as you do.”
“I'd like to think so,” he muttered. “Besides, we're two strangers passing through.”
“That’s the best part.”
“I'm not like you. I can't just be with a woman and then tell her goodbye.”
“Maybe there;s space in your life to be like both of us.”
Somehow that made sense. Or maybe the fever had actually gone to his head. He went into the kitchen and dug around for a bottle of wine, and found a bottle of Merlot. He wrinkled his nose at it for a moment and then grabbing it he went to get his coat and headed out. Maybe he would come to his senses halfway through the journey.
*****
Addison had just taken the pie out of the oven and had it on the counter cooling when she looked out the window and saw him coming. Her heart thudded as she watched him coming towards the cabin. He had a package in his hand, which looked like a bottle of wine. She quickly took off the apron she was wearing and passed her hand over her hair. She wished she'd had time to take a shower and put on something other than the baggy sweatsuit she was wearing. “This is not a date Addison Maya Duncan, so stop.”
She met him at the door and opened it before he knocked. “Hi.”
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I did say I owed you and I found this bottle of Merlot in the pantry,” he held it aloft.
“Come on in.” She stepped back to allow him to pass her.
“What’s that delightful smell?”
“I decided to take the time to really cook.” She grinned at him and led the way into the kitchen. “I made fried chicken, potato salad and a sweet potato pie.”
“You did all this?” he looked around the warm, cozy kitchen in amazement.
“I was kind of hoping you would come by,” she confessed.
He looked at her for a moment and something passed between them. “I would've hated myself if I hadn’t,” he told her softly.
She turned away and started setting plates. “Here or the dining room?” she asked him.
“With a meal like this I think the dining room. What can I do?” he asked her as he put the wine on the counter.
“You can set the table while I go and take a quick shower.”
“Go ahead,” he waved his hand at her and went to get the plates.
She hurried to her room and, stripping off her clothes, she went into the bathroom. Although she'd told him that she was taking a quick shower, she found the time to reach for the raspberry body wash she often used and piling her hair on top of her head she scrubbed vigorously. She ignored the thought sneaking inside her head saying that she was doing all this because she wanted to get close to him. “It’s just dinner,” she insisted as she climbed out of the bath and went to get ready. She dug through her closet and took out a black wool dress with a scooped neckline. It was close fitting and melded to her curves lovingly. She stood before the mirror and looked at herself speculatively before sitting at the vanity. She used the brush to get rid of the tangles in her long dark hair. She was about to twist it into a chignon at the back of her neck when she made the decision to leave it loose. She brushed it back until it shone and used clear lip gloss to coat her lips. She got to her feet and padded barefoot to the closet, looking at the shoes she'd brought with a frown before deciding on a pair of silver slippers with small heels, and then she was ready. The dress had long sleeves so there was no need for a sweater.
*****
It was her perfume that warned him of her appearance and he turned slowly to look at her. Preston straightened up from where he'd put the salad bowl on the table and stared at her. She looked different. He'd gotten used to seeing her in faded jeans and sweaters with her hair in a ponytail. This woman standing before him was so alluringly beautiful that she took his breath away.
“I decided to spruce up a little,” she said with a faint movement of her shoulders. His eyes drifted to her bosom where the material molded to her generous breasts before coming to rest on her parted lips that glistened with the gloss she'd put on.
“That’s an understatement.” He had to clear his throat from the huskiness there. “You look—” he spread his hands.
“Different?” she supplied with a smile.
“Something like that.” He continued to stare at her for a moment and then he turned to pull out the chair for her.
Addison sat and he pushed the chair under her before going to take his place. He picked up the bowl with the chicken and passed it to her and then the potato salad. He'd poured the wine as well as putting glasses of water on the table. The potato pie was still on the kitchen counter.
“So how are you?” Addison broke the silence at last.
“As good as I can be,” he bit into the chicken and his eyes widened. “This is amazing!”
“My mother was a very good cook and she taught us,” Addison said with a smile.
“Was?” he looked at her.
“She passed away.”
“I'm sorry.”
She nodded. “My sister and I still miss her. My dad died when we were young and she had to find ways to make a living for herself and us and send us to school, so she turned to her natural talent.”
“Cooking?”
“Actually, baking.”
“This is very good,” he repeated as he reached for another piece. “Forgive me if I appear greedy but this is irresistible.”
*****
“My mother had a special way of frying chicken and she taught us how.” She smiled at him, pleased. He was scooping out the potato salad as if it was his last meal. “I haven't made a dinner like this in years.”
“Why not?”
“Too busy with work,” she shrugged and didn't say anything else and he didn't press her.
“A shame.” He ate his third piece of chicken and had some more potato salad. “You could do this professionally.”
“Not a chance!” she said with a laugh as she wiped her fingers on the napkin. “I don’t particularly like the kitchen. Ready for dessert?”
“I'm going to have to make space,” he said with a groan as he eyed the pieces of chicken left.
“Don’t worry, I'm going to pack you up some pieces to take with you,” she told him as she got to her feet.
“Good.”
She went to get the pie and the whip cream and
took them back to the table. She cut the slices and squeezed the whip cream on top before passing him the plate. She sat and waited for him to take the first bite. When he did she smiled at the astounded look on his face. His eyes flew to hers as he continued eating. “This is absurdly delicious,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she inclined her head as she ate hers.
“It’s even better than Claude’s.”
“Who's Claude?”
“What?” he asked looking up at her.
“Who's Claude?”
He didn't answer for a moment and then avoiding her eyes he responded. “A friend at a restaurant.”
Addison looked at him thoughtfully before finishing the pie. “Seconds?”
“Please.” He handed her his plate. “I'm not usually this greedy.”
“So you said,” she answered with a laugh.
She started clearing the table.
“I should be doing that,” he protested.
“Why? You're my guest.”
He continued eating and watched her move around from the table to the kitchen, her movements unconsciously seductive.
“Want to go into the living room?” she asked him as soon as everything was cleared away.
“I'll pour some more wine.” He reached for the bottle and their glasses and did so, taking it with him into the living room. He handed her a glass and sat next to her. “We should be getting some more snow tonight.”
“And you don’t want to be caught in it.” Addison kicked off her sandals and tucked her feet beneath her. “I wouldn't want you getting sick again.”
“I think I'm sufficiently covered this time.” He turned sideways so he could look at her. “You're very lovely,” he said suddenly.
“Why thank you, sir,” she tilted her head and her lips curved into a smile.
He nodded and looked down into his drink before looking up at her. “I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Is there a significant other in the picture?”
“Not anymore. Why?”
He shrugged. “I just can’t figure out what a beautiful woman like you is doing here all by yourself.”