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Never a Bride

Page 16

by Caridad Piñeiro


  Just like you shouldn’t believe all the crap your father dumped on you, the little voice in her head chimed in.

  If his passion had broken open a crack in the wall she’d built around herself, his honesty snapped the chains she hadn’t even known were around her heart. Even though she was still wounded by that imprisonment, suddenly things didn’t seem so impossible.

  She leaned forward and whispered against his lips, “Sasha is an idiot.”

  It was impossible to miss the smile on his lips for a second before he kissed her. It was a kiss filled with comfort and promise, absent the passion of their earlier kisses. But it helped salve the wounds they had both suffered in their earlier lives, beginning the path to true healing.

  As they drifted apart, they were both still smiling. At the noisy growl of her stomach, Carlo said, “I guess you’re hungry.”

  “I am. Let’s eat,” she said.

  CARLO LAY IN BED, HIS body sore in spots from his exertions of the day before. Despite supposedly having a week off, he’d been too restless to do nothing after his lunch with Emma.

  Considering the emotional way lunch had started off for both of them, it had ended nicely thanks to the marvelous food Jesse had selected and packed for him. Both Emma and he finished with full bellies, laughter, and the promise to see each other again mid-week for dinner.

  He’d returned to the warehouse and helped Paolo and some of his crew in organizing and inventorying the assorted items they used for their events and for preparing their food. That meant lots of lifting and carrying, but by the end of the day, they’d finished with the plates and glassware. A good thing since in the rush of all the events of the last month or so they were down a number of items due to breakage or loss. The kitchen utensils and pots were in pretty good shape, but a few new baking trays would be a big help since they’d been doing more and more wedding cakes lately also. By the end of the shift, he’d had a list of items to buy and would visit the restaurant supply place later to pick them up.

  Even with his assorted aches, he got up and did his regular routine. Light workout and television news shows. Jog. Long hot shower that helped loosen the kinks and relieved some of the pain. In no time he was dressed and rushing out the door to get to the supply house, a large rambling one story building filled floor to ceiling with all kinds of restaurant items.

  With no real schedule, he ambled up and down the aisles, picking out a tool or pan here or there that they might need. Then he headed to the china section where he loaded up on the replacement pieces before moving to the glassware section for the remainder of the items on his list. When he arrived at the register, he realized the cashier was a friend who had used to work at a restaurant in the next town over.

  “Hey, Carlo. It’s good to see you,” the young man said and welcomed him with a bro hug and hand clasp.

  “Good to see you too, Shaun. What are you doing here? Making some extra bank?” he said and piled his merchandise on the counter for Shaun to ring up.

  Shaun grimaced and picked up the first item to ring up. “Making all my bank, dude. Jersey Jose closed. They couldn’t cut it anymore.”

  Carlo had eaten a few times at the restaurant that had offered a mix of Coastal Cuisine and Tex-Mex. The food and service hadn’t been bad, but then again, it hadn’t been fabulous and there was a lot of competition in the area from similar eateries and real Mexican restaurants. “Sorry to hear that. If you ever want work during your off hours, we sometimes need experienced wait staff for an event.”

  “Thanks, dude. Hey, did you hear that the old Sea Kiss Convention Center is for sale? They finally got the insurance money after Sandy and started repairs but couldn’t finish and decided to sell it off. You always wanted to have a place where you could do your own thing.”

  Carlo was surprised Shaun remembered. Emma and he had talked about it a number of times, but with as busy as they had both been, they hadn’t really given it much serious thought in ages. Not to mention that since he wanted to have a different relationship with Emma, he hesitated to raise the idea of a partnership again, fearing it would give Emma too easy an excuse to push him away if she was getting cold feet.

  “I hadn’t heard. Thanks for the news,” he said and intended to check it out with the local real estate agent. The place was probably well out of his price range, but it never hurt to ask. After all, if he didn’t ask the answer would always be “No.”

  Just like with Emma, the little voice in his head reminded.

  He finished checking out and loaded up the Thunder SUV, appreciating the roominess of the rear storage area. Jonathan had seemed to think of everything, but the real test now was going to be how the car performed with the added weight of everything he’d just bought. He pulled out onto the street and hit the accelerator. The car took off without any hesitation or strain. It was enough to convince him that maybe electric cars weren’t just for people who didn’t really have to work.

  Barely minutes later he was pulling into the loading dock at his warehouse. Paolo and Tomás were standing by the one bay, looking over some papers. Dozens of boxes sat behind them on the dock waiting to be unpacked thanks to a recent delivery. He got out and walked up to them.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, wondering if there was an issue with the delivery.

  “Fine. Just checking to make sure we got everything. Last thing we want is to find out next week that we’re missing something important,” Tomás said.

  Carlo nodded and tossed the key fob to Paolo. “Stuff is in the back of the Thunder.”

  “Where are you going?” Paolo groused as he walked away.

  “I’ve got a call to make,” he said, thinking of the convention center and what he could do with a place like that. Besides lose his shirt. And possibly Emma if he rushed her into it.

  He entered the office and closed the door, not sure that he was ready to share the news with his brothers or anyone else just yet. At his desk he shifted to his computer and pulled up the name of the realtor who he had first spoken to about a location for his business. Mary Sanders. She had helped him find and get a deal on their current warehouse. She was also the realtor who had assisted Jonathan in finding the location for his new research and development center.

  Leaning back in his chair, he dialed Mary and she answered by the second ring. “Carlo! So nice to hear from you. How are things going?”

  “Things are good, Mary. Thanks for asking,” he answered, but hesitated, wondering if he was crazy for even making the call.

  “What can I help you with today?” Mary asked in her usual all business tone.

  He took a breath and pushed ahead. “Rumor has it that the convention center is for sale,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral although the call alone was enough to tell the shrewd real estate agent that he had an interest in the place.

  “Rumor is right for a change, but I have to tell you that the price is on the high side if you ask me. The place isn’t finished inside and there’s a lot of work left to be done. It seems that they blew through their Sandy insurance money and then some. But it’s a prime location and with Jonathan Pierce hopefully bringing new blood into the area, it’s bound to see a lot of traffic. In fact, I’d be surprised if Jonathan doesn’t jump on this for his company to use as a meeting center.”

  Carlo wouldn’t be surprised either. The location was great. Right at the westernmost edge of town but facing the inlet and the river. From the upper story there was a picturesque view of all the waterside Victorian buildings in Sea Kiss as well as the ocean and the neighboring towns to the south. From what he remembered, there were two nice-sized ballrooms with river views and then a few smaller ballrooms which faced the town and another section of river. He’d worked in the kitchens one summer and they had been immense with lots of stockrooms and walk-in refrigerators. He wouldn’t doubt that he could probably put everything in his warehouse into the areas and still have room left over.

  “How much are they asking?” he said whi
le tallying in his own mind what he had in his operating and savings accounts and what monies he might be able to put together from other sources like his retirement fund and the sale of the warehouse building.

  “Four million. Like I said, on the high side considering the shape it’s in.”

  A huge number. One that might be out of my reach, he thought. “How much do you think I could get for the warehouse?”

  There was a long pause before Mary said, “Based on recent sales, I’m going to say a million and a half at least. If we could get the town to rezone it for multi-purpose including residential, at least two million if not more.”

  With the money he had in the various bank accounts, that still left him short well over a million dollars. Before he could say anything else, Mary jumped back in. “You know your house is on land that could easily fetch a million. Maybe more.”

  “That’s not something I want to consider right now,” he said, not yet ready to trade his dream home for the business of his dreams. His dreams and Emma’s. When they had been talking about an event planning business together, they had tossed around the idea of buying a building where they could host the events in order to increase their profits.

  “Just saying,” Mary said in a sing song. She had been jonesing for the property his home sat on for years, but his answer had always been the same: No.

  He shifted forward in his seat and drummed the fingers of one hand on the surface of his desk, considering whether to even look at the place. But he knew that if he didn’t, he would never forgive himself. “I’ve got a light week. When do you think we could go see the property?”

  “I’ll make some calls and let you know.”

  Chapter 19

  Emma had been to Carlo’s home a number of times, but usually for outdoor events in the garden that he’d taken such care to landscape into a veritable oasis. She hadn’t really been inside the mobile home that many times. Not that at a first glance you could tell it was a mobile home since it looked like a large ranch thanks to the landscaping and care he’d taken to give it curb appeal.

  The home was located just half a block from the beach and was a wonderful location which at one time had been occupied by a big old Victorian. Carlo’s neighbors, an older couple whose family had been in Sea Kiss for generations, had told her during a summer barbecue party that the original building had burned almost to the ground one winter night due to a problem with a furnace. Fire was the one thing many people in town feared thanks to the old Victorians. Behind the lathe and plaster there were no stops to prevent fire from shooting up inside the walls. Due to its age, the wood in the old buildings was so dry that it was like kindling, adding to the fire risk.

  Luckily the family living in the home at the time had survived, but they’d decided to sell the property and a structure that was beyond repair. According to the neighbors, Carlo had gotten a deal on the land in exchange for having to clear it since the owners hadn’t wanted to do that. They also hadn’t wanted to sell the property to one of the developers in the area. They’d wanted someone who planned on living in Sea Kiss full time and not just rich summer people who would build a fancy home that stood empty for most of the year.

  Like Carlo had lived there for close to a decade and planned to do for quite some time. She knew he wanted to eventually build a Victorian style home for the family he hoped to have one day. A family with a child like the one she’d pictured during her daydreams, with reddish brown hair and hazel-green eyes. Blush-free olive skin. Her heart hurt with the idea of that child. With the promise of what could be if she dared to believe she was good enough for a wonderful man like Carlo.

  She raised her hand and held it up an inch from the door, hesitating because she knew once she stepped inside, there was no going back on this journey. But before she could knock, the door flew open and Carlo stood there, his big shoulders nearly filling the doorway and an expectant little boy grin on his face.

  “Come on in. It’s cold out there,” he said and as if to prove it, a biting wind swept up the block from the ocean and swirled around them, causing her to shiver.

  She stepped into house and for the first time the home had a chance to really speak about the person who lived there. It was meticulously neat, not unlike how Carlo insisted his business be kept. At one end of the open space was a living room set up with a large screen television on the far wall. The windows in the room faced the street and Carlo’s lovely gardens. Curtains in deep navy bracketed the windows and contrasted with the pale yellow of the walls. A large ornately carved wooden cross was hung between two of the windows. On the opposite wall, the space between the windows had a collection of frames with family photos and one of the two of them. Even in the dark of a winter night the space created a feeling of welcome.

  On the opposite side of the room was a kitchen with lovely cherry cabinets and a multi-burner range perfect for a chef like Carlo. A trio of pots sat on the stove, low flames beneath keeping the contents warm. Enticing smells wafted from there to where she stood. Beyond the kitchen was a hallway that she assumed led to his bedroom.

  Between the kitchen and living room was a small dining table that had been set with fine china, crystal, silver, and a delicate centerpiece of roses, miniature carnations, and lisianthus in various shades of pink and purple. At one side of the centerpiece was a pink taper candle waiting to be lit.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said and he gestured toward the living room. She slipped out of her coat as she walked there and handed it to him.

  “Thank you. It’s home,” he said, almost apologetically and took her coat from her.

  “It’s lovely,” she said to reassure him, sensing that he really needed her approval.

  He smiled and dipped his head to acknowledge her comment. “Thanks again. Can I get you something to drink? Wine? I just opened a bottle of cab franc.”

  “I’d like that,” she said as she sat on the couch.

  He walked back past the kitchen and to a hall closet where he hung her coat before returning to the narrow breakfast bar in the kitchen. He poured two glasses of wine and as he sauntered back to the living room, she took a moment to appreciate that he’d dressed up for their dinner date. He wore a blue striped button-down shirt that hugged the powerful lines of his shoulders and chest but hung loose around his lean midsection. Faded jeans lovingly embraced his muscled legs.

  He handed her the wine and took a seat beside her on the couch. Raising the glass, he said, “To a lovely night.”

  She met his gaze over the rim of her glass. His gaze was intense, but hesitant, as if he was unsure of just what tonight would be about. But she wanted him to know she was ready to take the next step with him. “To a lovely night,” she said with a welcoming smile, clinked her glass against his, and took a sip.

  “Delicious,” she said. “I’m looking forward to what you’ve got cooking. It smells wonderful.”

  “I slaved all day on it,” he said in a teasing tone, but she sensed that he had spent considerable time in preparing the meal. It was just the way he was. Thoughtful. Hard-working. Caring. Responsible. Loving, she thought as she glanced at him again and noted the way he was looking at her.

  “I know it’s going to be wonderful,” she said because well, it was Carlo making it and he never did anything halfway. Which made her wonder whether he’d make love the same way, with such caring, loving, and thoughtfulness. Determination. Warmth built inside her at the thought and she took another sip of the wine, but her hand trembled as she did so.

  “I hope so, Emma,” he said and she realized he was as nervous as she. Bolstered by that, she laid a hand on his knee and said, “Relax, Carlo. I’m sure everything is going to be perfect.”

  He covered her hand with his and squeezed it. “It’s nice to have you here for more than just a quick visit. It’s weird that’s never happened before.”

  “It is, but we’re both work-a-holics remember? I’m glad we’re here now and changing what happened before. Maybe even
for the future.” And because she needed not only to make it clear to him that she was ready to move on, but reinforce that decision for herself, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his lips. As she went to move away, he cradled her cheek and kept her near, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue along her lower lip and a gentle bite that urged her to open for him.

  She moaned as he tasted her. Moved his mouth against hers, his kiss rousing and yet gentle. Enticing the way good food made you take a taste and then want more.

  She was breathless, almost lightheaded, when he moved, barely an inch away. His warm breath bathed her lips as he said, “Maybe we should get started on dinner.”

  “Definitely,” she said because if they kept on kissing, she was sure the meal he’d spent so much time on might not ever get eaten.

  He slowly rose from the couch and held out his hand to her. She slipped it into his and stood. She followed him to the dining room table that she no longer thought of as small, but as intimate. There was no way she could sit there and not be aware of him.

  He pulled out the chair for her, ever the gentleman, and she sat. Laid her glass on the table and focused on him as he ambled to the stove and checked the heat on the pots. He pulled off the lids to check them, letting the fragrances of their contents scent the air. Her mouth watered at the deliciousness of the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

  Bending, he yanked open the oven and pulled out a tray. It clattered on the granite as he laid it there and then scooped off something onto waiting plates. After he moved a sauté pan off the stove, lifted it, and drizzled something onto the dishes.

  He hurried over and placed one serving before her and another before himself. Asparagus wrapped in Serrano ham was grilled and drizzled with a balsamic reduction and roasted figs.

 

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