Graeme had removed the game hens from the marinade and slipped tablespoons of chilled herb butter under the loosened skin on the breasts and thigh, unaware that his hands were shaking because he feared tearing the thin flesh. He hadn’t planned to grill the chicken until they finished the first course. He flicked on the tuner on a shelf in an overhead cabinet; it had an extensive playlist featuring his favorite recording artists and songs. He smiled when Adele, singing “All I Ask,” flowed from hidden speakers throughout the first floor.
Barking excitedly, Barley ran to the front door and sniffed it. Wiping his hands on a terrycloth towel, Graeme left it on the countertop. “I know, boy. She’s here.”
* * *
Kayana knew she’d shocked Graeme when he opened the door and saw what she was wearing. If this dinner was to be special, then she had to wear something other than a T-shirt and cropped pants. She’d selected a quintessential little black dress and a pair of matching silk-covered, four-inch stilettos. The backless garment, with a high neckline and capped sleeves, ended at her knees.
“May I please come in?”
Graeme blinked as if coming out of a trance. “Please.”
She handed him a colorful shopping bag but held onto a quilted weekender. He was also less casually dressed than he had been during their prior dinner dates. Tonight, he wore a pair of tailored slacks with a stark white shirt and Italian-made loafers. He’d protected his clothes with a black bibbed apron.
“There’s wine, flowers, and candles for the table in that bag. I didn’t know if you had a vase, so I brought one. I’m going to take this bag upstairs to the bedroom.”
“You’re planning to spend the night?”
Kayana gave him a saucy smile. “I will be forced to if I have more than one glass of wine.” She sobered. “I don’t know what it is, but wine always makes me sleepy, while I can drink at least two martinis or margaritas before feeling the effects of the alcohol.”
Graeme met her eyes. “You know I want you to stay.”
“And I want to stay.”
Turning on her heel, Kayana made her way to the staircase, leaving Graeme staring at the bare skin on her back and legs. She was tired of denying what had been so obvious—she liked Graeme Ogden enough to sleep with him.
What she hadn’t wanted to do was compare him to James or the other men whom she had known or been involved with, but he had passed her test with flying colors. Kayana knew he wanted her to sleep with him, yet he hadn’t put any pressure on her to do so, while James had intimated on their second date that he’d found her to be the sexiest woman he’d ever met and fantasized making love with her. His ribald revelation had turned her off, and she told him that although he’d paid for dinner, she had no intention of being his dessert. James apologized profusely, and Kayana made him wait three months before sleeping with him.
* * *
Graeme was grateful Kayana had gone upstairs to leave her bag because it gave him time for his erection to go down. And, thankfully, the apron had concealed the bulge in his groin. He’d stopped wishing, hoping, and praying Kayana would stay overnight and in his bed, and that she would wake up beside him.
It was the second time he’d seen her wear a dress, and the transformation was shocking and hypnotic. Everything about her appearance was perfect: hair, face, figure, and legs, and he knew if she’d been taller, she could’ve easily become a high-fashion model. And there was no doubt that, when she entered a room on the arm of a man, men and women alike would turn and stare at her. He was no exception.
Graeme had put the flowers in the vase and filled it and lit the candles when Kayana returned. He pulled out a chair. “Please sit, babe.” He seated her and then bent down to press a kiss to the column of her neck. “You look and smell incredible.”
Kayana smiled up at him over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She directed her gaze to the plate with ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced mozzarella cheese, fresh basil leaves, and black olives, topped with freshly ground black pepper and balsamic glaze. “You made this?”
“Yes, ma’am. I made everything except the glaze.”
“I’m really impressed, Graeme. Thank you for taking the time to cook for me.”
“It’s something I enjoy and hope to do again after a few more lessons.” Graeme went to the refrigerator and took the platter with the hens out to bring them to room temperature.
“What else is on the menu beside the caprese?”
“Grilled Cornish game hens. Also grilled parmesan and prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and dessert is store-bought tiramisu with Irish coffee—an Ogden family favorite.”
“I don’t believe it! You’ve come up with all of this after two cooking lessons?”
Sitting opposite Kayana, Graeme winked at her. “What can I say? I have a brilliant teacher.”
“That’s nonsense, Graeme. You had to have had some prior experience cooking for yourself.”
“I never said I couldn’t cook. It’s just that I would make the same things over and over. There’s just so much steak I can eat in a week. I like red meat but prefer fish and poultry because there are so many ways they can be prepared. That’s why I asked you to teach me how to roast a chicken. Now I feel confident trying new dishes.”
Unfolding her napkin, Kayana placed it over her lap. “You’re a natural. Maybe you missed your calling and should’ve become a chef.”
He stared at her under lowered lids, silently admiring the black curls framing her round face with a barely there cover of makeup. “If I’d become a chef, then I doubt our paths would’ve ever crossed.”
“There could’ve been a possibility if you were based in Atlanta, because I used to do a lot of entertaining.”
Graeme chewed and swallowed a piece of creamy mozzarella that literally melted on his tongue. “Did you enjoy entertaining?”
A slight frown appeared between Kayana’s eyes. “I hated it. Every weekend my home was like Union Station, with people coming and going. The exception was when my ex was on call. That’s the only time when I didn’t have to hype myself up and pretend to be a gracious hostess.”
“Didn’t he know how you felt about people taking over your home?”
“Of course, he did. It was only when I lost my temper and told him that I was going to act a fool in front of his friends, family, and colleagues or accidently on purpose burn the house down that he’d stop for a couple of weeks, but then it would start up again. During the winter, he’d entertain indoors, and during the warmer weather, it was on the patio with the in-ground pool and outdoor kitchen.”
“It was obvious he had his own agenda.”
Kayana pushed out her lips. “You’ve got that right.”
“You never threatened to leave him?”
She lowered her eyes, staring at the contents on her plate. “I issued one threat, and that was before I married James. I told him if he ever cheated on me, I’d leave him so fast that he would forget what I looked like.”
“And he did.”
A sardonic smile twisted Kayana’s mouth. “Yes. I don’t know long he’d been sleeping with Alexis, but once I confronted him, he looked as if he was going to go into cardiac arrest. He believed I was naïve enough to never suspect that he was dicking around with the very woman who’d pretended to be a friend; in fact, she was always the first one to help me make certain my guests had everything they needed.”
“That’s really ballsy, Kay. What man invites his mistress to his house while he and his wife are hosting a gathering?”
“A man whose bank account has a lot less zeroes after I left him. Some women want to hold on to the big house with the pool in a gated neighborhood where folks have to use an intercom for you to let them in. But I wanted none of that, so James was forced to cough over the cash, or I was willing to drag out the divorce until the baby he’d made with the love of his life was old enough to attend college. And what he didn’t want me to do was get really bitchy and talk about his screwing a coworker when there were rule
s at the hospital against supervisors fraternizing with subordinates.”
Graeme leaned back in his chair. “What was she?”
“She was a first-year surgical resident.”
“Damn. She didn’t even wait to become a fully licensed doctor.”
“Maybe it was what she’d done to get through medical school. But I’m willing to bet that she hadn’t planned on getting pregnant, since it temporarily derailed her career.”
Graeme listened intently while Kayana related the events that ruined one marriage and threatened to end another before it began. Her ex-husband had coerced his young paramour into taking a leave before the news of their affair threatened his position at the hospital.
“Should I assume he married her?” Graeme questioned.
Kayana nodded. “Yes. He arranged for Alexis to live with a cousin in Raleigh–Durham until she gave birth to their son, then he moved her back to Atlanta, and they were married in a private ceremony with family and close friends.”
“Did she ever return to the same hospital?”
“No. She applied to a smaller hospital in Macon, which is about eighty miles from Atlanta. The latest news I heard from a friend is that James hired a live-in nanny to take care of the baby, while Alexis stays in an apartment in Macon and only comes home when she has time off.”
“What a mess!”
“That’s what I said when my friend gave me an update. But when I look back, I’m glad I don’t have to put up with that scene anymore. When I go upstairs after working in the restaurant, my life is mine, and I can do whatever I want. I don’t have to concern myself with strangers invading my privacy and skinning and grinning at them when I don’t want to. Once I left that circus, I did not realize how much I was willing to put up with and compromise on because I didn’t want a repeat of my parents’ marriage, as they’d argued constantly. There was a running joke in the family that if Mom and Daddy didn’t argue, the sun wasn’t going to rise the next day. When Mom sat us down and told us she was divorcing Daddy, we thought she was joking. One day, we came home from school and discovered that all of his clothes were gone, and that’s when it finally sank in that we could live in a house where we didn’t have listen to our parents verbally attack one another.”
“Parents don’t realize the impact they have on their children because most times they’re concerned with what makes the adults happy. My mother was like your ex-husband. She loved entertaining, and whenever we spent time in Newburyport, she would invariably send out invitations to a luncheon or dinner party for some made-up social occasion. Dad and I would find someplace to go just to escape the lunacy.”
“Did you ever host a function at the house after your parents passed away?”
“Never. Not even when I was married. Some of my colleagues would drop hints about using the house to host an end-of-the-year or retirement party, but after I turned them down a few times, they stopped asking.”
“Do you close up the house whenever you come down here?”
“No. I have a full-time live-in housekeeper and caretaker, so there’s never a need to close it. It’s their home too, and I can’t think of dispossessing them.” Graeme dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “It’s time I put the hens on the grill.”
“The salad is delicious, and I can’t wait for the entrée.”
Graeme had to admit to himself that the caprese had exceeded his expectations. He mentally sent thanks to the clerk in the produce section who’d selected the perfectly ripe tomatoes and fresh basil leaves for the salad. Now, all he needed was for the hens to cook until they were crisp and golden on the outside and juicy on the inside.
* * *
If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, Kayana would’ve thought Graeme had paid someone to grill the hens and asparagus. She watched him place the tender spears on strips of prosciutto, and then add shaved parmesan and wrap the thinly sliced, dry-cured ham and cheese around the asparagus before placing them on a heated grill. Minutes before, he’d grilled the hens to perfection; the herbed butter under skin had turned the birds golden and crisp on the outside, while infusing the meat with the flavors of fresh tarragon and rosemary. When she’d told Graeme that she wanted a boyfriend who could cook for her when she came home after a day of standing on her feet cooking for hours, she never would’ve imagined he would be able to put together a meal worthy of one served in a restaurant.
The food, the background music, the candlelight, and the man seated across from her, along with two glasses of rosé, created an atmosphere of total relaxation where anything and everything outside the house ceased to exist. It was only the two of them, cloistered in their own world, where she believed she knew what he was thinking and that he could also read her thoughts.
“Tonight has been nothing short of perfect.” She’d spoken her thoughts aloud.
Graeme smiled. “That’s because of you.”
“It’s just not me,” Kayana countered. “You have a lot to do with it.” A mysterious smile parted her lips when she said, “I think I’m going to keep you.”
Although his mouth was smiling, Graeme’s eyes were as dark as angry storm clouds. “Are you certain that’s what you want to do?”
“Very certain.”
Rising to stand, he came around the table and eased her to her feet, his arms circling her waist. “I hope you read the fine print, babe, because once you get involved with an Ogden man, there are no refunds or exchanges. It means you will have to keep me. Knowing this, do you want to back out now?”
Kayana realized Graeme was offering her a challenge and/or an out. That if she wasn’t ready to commit, then this was her time to let him know. They had a little more than a month to be together, she thought, and if their relationship survived the season, she would have something to look forward to the following summer. And if not, then she would be left with the memory of a man who unknowingly made her aware that her love life did not begin and end with James, that she could have a mature relationship with other men.
“I am not a quitter,” she said, in her best Richard Nixon imitation.
Lowering his head, Graeme took her mouth in a kiss that was more like a caress; she melted against the hardness of his body, glorying in the knowledge that she had not made a mistake becoming involved with one of the restaurant’s customers. Not only was she playing in her own sandbox, but she had invited a man to share it with her.
“You don’t know just how special you are to me,” Graeme whispered against her parted lips.
Kayana closed her eyes as hot tears pricked the back of her lids at the same time her heart stopped and then started up again with his impassioned admission. She wanted to tell him how special and important he’d become to and for her.
Kayana did not want to love Graeme, because for her either she was all in or all out. She’d fallen in love with James and given him one hundred percent of herself to make their marriage work. She now had no illusions about marriage or children, because at age forty-six they weren’t priorities for her. And she was no longer a twentysomething psychiatric social worker with stars in her eyes who’d caught the attention of one of Atlanta’s leading trauma surgeons and felt as if she was on top of the world when she became his wife.
She knew it was impossible to turn her emotions on and off like a faucet, yet she would be offered a hiatus when Graeme left the island to return to his teaching position in Massachusetts. Their separation would give her time to take a step back and reassess their relationship until they reunited next summer.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered in his ear. “You’ll always know where to find me.” That was the last thing she said before he swept her up in his arms and headed for the staircase. Dessert and coffee forgotten, she knew and was ready for what was to come.
Words weren’t necessary.
Graeme wanted to make love to her.
And she wanted to make love with him.
Chapter 17
Graeme felt as if he’d waited f
orever for someone like Kayana to come into his life. She embodied everything he’d sought in a woman, and then more. He hadn’t known he was searching for something from the moment Patrick and Lauren Ogden revealed they weren’t his biological parents: peace.
It no longer mattered who the woman was who’d slept with a man who’d deceived his wife when he got another woman pregnant. And whoever his biological mother was, he applauded her for not aborting the child created during their intimate expression of love but being willing to carry him to term and give him to a childless couple to love and raise as their own.
He’d sown his oats, dating more women than he’d slept with, while not actively looking for marriage until he met Jillian. Going into therapy following her death allowed him to understand why he’d married her: He thought of her as a bird who had fallen from the nest, abandoned by her mother, and it had become his responsibility to take care of her.
Entering the bedroom, he placed Kayana in the middle of the bed and watched her intently staring up at him. The woman in his bed didn’t need him to take care of her, and that meant they were equals. Although divorced, she wasn’t emotionally broken, and it was her maturity, strength, and confidence he admired most. Grasping her ankle, Graeme removed her heels, placing them on the floor under the bedside table. He slipped out of his loafers, got into bed, and held her hand.
“I’m not going to do anything to you that you don’t want me to do.”
* * *
Shifting until she was facing Graeme, Kayana wanted to tell him to shut and make love to her. He wasn’t teaching a class where he had to explain the steps in order to solve a math problem. “I’ll definitely let you know what I don’t like.”
“I know you can’t get pregnant, but I do have protection.”
Kayana wanted to laugh. For a supposedly sexually experienced man, he sounded like a boy trying to convince a girl that she didn’t have to concern herself with getting pregnant because he was willing to wear a condom. However, she had to admire him for practicing safe sex.
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