by J. M. Adele
She swallowed.
He was right. They were going to explode when they finally came together.
“Let’s go. I have food to prepare.”
Chelsea cleared her tight throat. “Yes, let’s.”
_____
“Oh my God, what is in this stuffing?” Chelsea licked her lips and scooped some more food onto her fork.
Sipping his wine, Matteo’s eyelids sank in pleasure before he answered from the head of the table. “Spicy sausage, bacon, some herbs, toasted homemade bread, garlic … Nothing too special.”
“Oh, it’s special.” She pointed her knife at her plate. “Is this on the menu at Abbiocco tonight?”
“No, this is Greyson’s recipe. Cotto a puntino.”
She swung her eyes across the table. “Okay, I don’t know that phrase. You did the turkey?”
“I did everything.” He waved a hand at the spread of food. “And it means cooked to perfection.”
“The squash?”
“Mm hmm.” His lips quirked as he chewed.
“You didn’t make the wine.”
“No, but I know how to.”
“Do you have to be good at everything you do?”
“I am good at everything I do.”
One blonde brow winged up as she took a sip of her wine, watching him over the rim. Damn, he was sexy as fuck. Squeezing her thighs together, she had to remember they weren’t alone.
“So, what’s the plan after you finish your apprenticeship?”
“I’d like to work my way up to sous chef. Maybe try working for the competition, and see how they do things. But Albert’s gotta retire some time.”
“Troiata.” Matteo scoffed, swirling his wine glass. “The competition can’t have you. But there are people in line before you for Albert’s job.”
“It’s my decision, where I take my career.”
“Yes, it is. But I’m not investing all this time and money into developing your talent to have you gift it to my competitors. We will find something new for you when you’re ready.”
Grey snapped his mouth shut, drawing it into a flat line. His gaze flicked to hers before dropping to his plate. She watched the muscles in his jaw flex and tense, and she wanted to reach out to soothe them.
Maybe having choices handed to you came with a price. She knew nothing about Grey’s life and the sacrifices he’d made to be here. It couldn’t have been easy, moving clear across the country to start a career, knowing he wouldn’t be seeing his family on the regular. She’d survived college because she got to go home a couple of times a year. But to make a permanent move … that was something else entirely. Maybe if she wanted something badly enough …
Matteo broke through her reverie. “I might be thinking of expanding into New York City in the next few years. I’ll need someone to head up the restaurant there. I’m not moving, but I will be heavily involved in getting things started. This is my name at stake.”
Her skin tightened, and she rested her silverware on the plate before she dropped it. “New York?”
Grey uttered the same question, but with cautious hope in his voice rather than the despair she heard in hers. She swiped her wine and took a gulp.
“Yes. I have some real estate there, and connections in the business.”
Grey’s attention fell on her. She watched the pulse in his throat tick, unable to look him in the eye.
“We’ll see.”
“What about you, Chelsea?” Matteo turned to her. “What are your plans after graduation?”
“Oh, I’m heading back to Alabama. Mama and I are going into business together.”
“Doing what?”
“Mama loves baking. She does cakes for weddings and parties. She’s real good at it. We want to open a little book shop and patisserie where people can sit in big comfy chairs and read while they eat a sweet treat.”
“Sounds quaint. What else are you going to do?”
Grey shot a dark look at his uncle. “Zio.”
“What? That’s not going to be enough for her.”
“It’s up to her what she wants to do with her life.”
“I’m just pointing out that she has too much motivation and vision to be content with running a little cake shop.”
“Maybe they won’t stop there. Maybe they’ll franchise it and end up spread across the U.S.”
“Boys, when you’re done arguing over my future, I’d like to add that y’all need to butt out of my business.” Spearing a finger at Matteo, she spoke through her teeth. “You asked, I answered. If you’re not happy with the answer that’s not my problem.” Pushing her chair back, she stood gripping her napkin. “Thank you for dinner, it was delicious. I’m going to head home now. Y’all have a pleasant evening.”
“No. We have dessert. Ti devo delle scuse. Sit.” Matteo collected the plates and headed for the kitchen.
“He apologized.”
She tossed the napkin on the table. “I know what that meant. I’ve heard it enough over the last three years. I need to leave or I’m going to miss the T.”
“You’re not getting the train home. I’ll drive you.”
Slamming her fists on her hips, she aimed a scowl at his smirking face. “Are all the men in your family pushy and pig-headed?”
“No. My brother, Antonio, is more like our mother. Gentle and sweet.” Rounding the table while holding the wine bottle, he put her glass in her hand and took the other, leading her out of the room.
She trailed along behind him. “Well, where is he when I need him?”
“If you’re looking for gentle and sweet, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“I’m not looking for gentle.”
They stopped in the living room where a grand piano filled one corner, and elaborate silk curtains hung from the windows.
He offered her a seat, joining her on one of the sofas. “What are you looking for?”
“I’m not.”
Studying her, he pulled his long hair off his face and tied it behind his neck. “Liar.”
“I’m not interested in saddling myself with a relationship that’ll end in tears.”
Thinking that she could have a fling with him and walk away unscathed was the definition of insane. And if she didn’t walk away, eventually he would. They’d barely started, and already he meant more and had burrowed in further than any man before. She should stop this now, before her life spiraled into something unrecognizable.
“Wow. Your parents must’ve shown you a happy example of love.”
“My mama has shown me nothing but unconditional love, even when I didn’t deserve it, but then that’s the nature of unconditional. As far as my sperm donor is concerned. He is the devil’s asshole. He took advantage of mama and then tried to pay his way out of the permanent repercussions. Mama loved me too much to go through with it.”
“And for that I will forever be thankful.” Sliding his arm along the back of the sofa behind her, he inched closer. “Your mama never married?”
“Nope. She never bothered with men after that. Most men are only after one thing, and they’re not willing to deal with the consequences if a tadpole gets to the target.”
“Are you tarring us all with the same brush?”
“Every man who has ever pursued me.”
“I don’t want to sleep with you. I think we established that already.”
“Yet. You don’t want to sleep with me yet. But when you do, you’ll be done and on your way.” To New York. She drained her glass and propped it on the end table, feeling his eyes boring through her temple.
“I don’t think I’ll be done. I think I’ll be just beginning.”
“Maybe I’ll be done.” She cocked a brow and stared him down, presenting a steel exterior while inside, she wept for the impossible.
His eyes turned to flint. “I call bullshit. You think that by being the one in control, that by not getting attached ... you remain in power. But the real reason behind your behavior is that you don’
t believe you’re deserving of love from a man. You’re scared of rejection, so you never allow yourself to get too close. You’ll never invite the possibility of that happening.”
The alcohol went sour on her tongue. Jesus. Was he a mind reader?
“You don’t consider me a threat. You think you can play with me and still run when you want to. But deep down, you’re a little scared that I might actually get under your defenses.”
He tugged on a few strands of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, so she wasn’t shielded from his probing eyes. She wanted to jerk forward and pull the curtain down, but the urge to lean into his touch was just as strong. The warring reactions canceled each other out, leaving her frozen under his control.
“When you start pushing me away for real, then I’ll know I’ve gotten under your skin. Then, I’m coming after you because I know your heart will finally be vulnerable to me and you’ll be mine for the taking. I want your heart, Chelsea. I want it all.”
“I don’t have that to give. Not to you. Not to anyone.”
Threading his fingers through hers, he gave her the same look he’d given her at the psychic reading. The look that said, ‘I got you,’ and his lasso tugged at her chest, willing her to give in to him.
“We’ll see,” he mouthed.
It was his promise.
How could she be sure he’d keep it?
Skeletons
“Antonio, it’s me.” Greyson made himself comfortable in Matteo’s office chair as he phoned home.
“Grey. What are you up to?” Antonio yawned down the line.
Grey checked the time, they’d be finishing up their breakfast after tending to the animals.
“Just checking in before I have to go to class.”
“You have to do classes? Like what, how to sift flour?”
“No, smart ass. I’m learning accounting. How are things?”
“Things are fine, if we ignore Papà. He could chew up nails and spit out a barbed wire fence. He hates his brother. Hates him. I don’t know what uncle Matteo did, but it was unforgivable in Papà’s eyes.”
“What about Mama?”
“She’s been extra quiet.”
Grey dug his fingers through his hair and hung his head.
“Lory’s been coming around more often. She was broken up when you left. Her brother wasn’t impressed.”
“You know we were never more than friends.”
“I know that, but I don’t think she did. And Clay definitely didn’t.”
“Shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, shit.”
“Would you look after her for me? Tell her I’m sorry, but she knew I had to go. And, Clay … I’ll let him get a punch in next time I’m in town.”
“I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry about it. Just do us proud. Don’t fuck things up and you can rub your success in Papà’s nose one day.”
“Naw. I’m not gonna do that. It didn’t help Matteo none. Kiss Mama for me.”
He hung up, jerking when he found Matteo standing over him.
“Phoning home?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
Matteo’s hand swiped through the air, wiping away the apology. “How’s your mama?”
“Quiet.”
“Hmph.” He whipped off his glasses and polished the lenses on the hem of his jacket, grinding his teeth with an audible crunch.
Grey looked a little closer, hoping to unlock Matteo’s secrets. “Can I ask you somethin’?”
“That depends on what it is.”
“What happened between you and Papà?”
Matteo’s mouth pinched and he shut the door behind him before crossing his arms. His eyes flicked to the bookshelf and landed back on Grey as he sighed.
“He’s sore because I’m better looking and more successful.”
“Isn’t that a matter of opinion? The ranch is plenty profitable. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re no silver fox.”
“It’s water under the bridge,” Matteo spat, reaching for the door handle.
Nuh uh, you’re not getting away that easily. “Then why is Papà still mad as a bull?”
“Because his firstborn followed in the footsteps of his wayward brother.”
“Nope. It’s more than that.”
Matteo threw back his head, releasing a barrage of Italian expletives on a gust of superheated air. Grey relaxed back on the bench, letting them wash over him.
“I can’t tell you what happened.”
Grey’s dark eyebrow twitched. “Why not?”
“Because it involves other people, and they don’t want the truth revealed.”
Matteo stared him down, stumbling forward like he was going to drop the great weight he’d been lugging around on his spine. Whatever the secret was, it was heavy. Grey watched as his uncle scowled at the bookshelf, unfolded his arms, and left.
Crossing the room, Grey studied the shelf. Cook books, business manuals and photos of his family …
His family.
Who else was involved? And why didn’t they want the truth exposed?
A thought rammed into Grey’s brain and his head cranked towards the door. It must have something to do with him. His leaving the ranch and coming here rattled the old skeletons.
What the fuck were they hiding?
_____
Chelsea leaned her chin on her hand and stared through the page of her book as her pencil tapped repeatedly on the paper.
Jenna snatched the pencil and threw it down on the bed, snapping her fingers under Chelsea’s nose. “Focus. Exams are next week.”
Spinning her desk chair around, Chelsea sighed. “Can we take a break?”
Jenna’s jaw dropped like she’d noticed a second head growing out of Chelsea’s neck. “We only started half an hour ago.”
“Really? It feels like a couple of hours.” She spun the chair again, stopping when she heard the snap of Jenna’s book shutting.
“If you’re not going to study, I’ll go home. I can’t fail. I’ll lose my scholarship.”
“Don’t go. I’m sorry.” Chelsea sprang up from her seat. “Do you want some sweet tea?”
“God, no. I need coffee if I’m going to get through all this.” Jenna’s hand slapped on the heavy book before checking that her bun was still secure.
“Okay. One coffee comin’ up.”
Moving down to the kitchen, she prepared the coffee maker and poured herself a cup of sweet tea, sipping while checking through the collection of flyers that had accumulated in a haphazard pile on the counter. With Grey’s words still stuck in her craw, she swallowed her tea down like she was trying to wash them out of their foothold. He’d slapped down the gauntlet in the gentlest of ways, and now she had to form a game plan, when she should be more worried about studying. This seemed overwhelmingly more imperative. Like if she didn’t take this chance, there was no do-over with him or anyone else.
Hannah waltzed through the front door, dumping her bags and keys on the dining table. “Hey, babe. I hope you’re making coffee.”
Chelsea put her thoughts aside and removed another mug from the cupboard. “Bad day?”
“The worst.” Flopping into a chair, Hannah pulled the elastic from her braid and combed out the light brown waves with her fingers.
“Dare I ask?”
“My professor said I’m going to fail if I don’t get a ninety in the exam. I have two weeks to cram my brain with molecular biology facts or I’m done.”
Leaning both elbows on the counter, Chelsea pouted her bottom lip. “Oh, honey, I’ll just give you the coffee pot once I’ve poured a cup for Jenna.”
“Jenna’s here?” Hannah’s eyes sparked back to life.
“Yeah, we’re studying. But she’s threatening to leave if I don’t stop procrastinating.”
“You …? Procrastinating?” Hannah dipped her head, eyeing Chelsea over the rim of her glasses. “Are you sick?”
She thought about how Grey lingered in her
brain cells, waiting to seep into every spare thought. Like an infection.
“Yeah, sort of.”
“Mm.” Hannah’s gaze locked onto Chelsea’s, lighting up with mischief. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a cowboy would it?”
Technically, he wasn’t a cowboy anymore. “Nope.”
“Oh, I see what you’re doing. A chef, then?”
“He’s not a chef, yet.”
“Apprentice chef.” She blew a raspberry. “Semantics. You have it bad for the new hottie in the kitchen.”
Letting her head fall into her hands, Chelsea groaned. “Ugh. Yes, I do.”
“So, take him to bed. Save a horse.” Hannah threw in a wink like she needed to emphasize her meaning.
“He’s not ready.” God, that sounded so stupid when she said it out loud.
“Pfft. Honey, are you the Chelsea that I think you are? Because she’d have made it happen.”
“I can’t force him to want me.”
“He already wants you. He’s a walking boner when you’re near. He’s just being stubborn. Seduce him, for Christ’s sake.”
Watching the dark brown liquid swirl as she poured it into the mugs, she contemplated Hannah’s advice. Steam heated her face and clouded her vision, but cleared her perspective. Why hadn’t she just seduced him? What man could resist a woman he’s attracted to when she makes it obvious she wants to get down and dirty? That guy didn’t exist.
“Honey, you’re a genius. You are going to kick ass on that molecular bio exam. Grab your coffee and come study with us.”
“Okay. Let me have a shower first. I need to cleanse myself of the load of crap I faced today.”
She pushed a mug towards Hannah. “Drink the coffee first. You look like you need it. We’ll see you in there.”
Taking the other drinks, she took the stairs to her room, careful not to spill them.
“Hey.”
Jenna’s head snapped up, her eyes taking a moment to refocus on her surroundings.
“Wow, you really get into it when you’re studying, don’t ya?”