“What about your mother?” Jade watched him with interest.
“My mother and I aren’t really close; she was always rather detached as a parent. I’m pretty sure she didn’t like it when I moved out; however, she was practical enough to see it for the opportunity it was. You have to understand my mother. She didn’t have a good upbringing herself. She’s very passive, not a lot of confidence, and very devoted to Dad, even though they argued a lot. She was always the one who gave in; she just couldn’t stand up to him for long. She clung to hope, not really knowing what else to do, I think. Deep down, she never lost faith in my dad. To this day, she still believes he’ll turn his fortune around if he can just find the right opportunity. She’s blinded to his faults. She doesn’t see that she’s basically supported him almost their entire married life. At least she doesn’t have to scrub floors anymore.”
“You give her money.” It was a statement, not a question.
“When she needs it.” He poured the egg mixture into the hot butter, slipped two pieces of French bread into the toaster oven, and looked up from his task, eyes earnest. “She won’t take much from me; she has her pride. But she did let me pay her tuition to beauty school which improved her life a lot. And I’m overly generous on holidays and her birthday. We both pretend the cash is a normal gift, but she makes it last. My mom can stretch a dollar further than anyone I’ve ever known. Between that and her own paychecks, life isn’t too bad for her now. They moved out of that god-awful apartment and she has a reliable car to drive. I make sure she at least has the essentials covered.”
“And your dad is okay with that arrangement?” A frown creased Jade’s brow.
Gage gave her a short nod as he folded cheese into the omelet. “He’s deep into his own delusions. If you were to ask the man, he’d probably claim my mom’s job is just something she does because she gets restless and bored staying home. He’d never admit they need her income to pay the bills. I offered to help my mom get her own shop, but she turned me down. Said she doesn’t want that much responsibility. She just wants to do her job and go home at the end of the day.”
Gage slid the eggs onto two plates, added the slices of toasted bread, poured them each a glass of wine, and sat on the stool next to hers. “Dig in, Jade.”
The food was delicious. His warm company and their effortless conversation only made the meal that much more enjoyable. Jade talked of growing up in Kansas, the relationship with her grandparents, and caring for her grandma in her final days. He talked of good times he’d had with Jean Pierre and told her funny stories about his days as a busboy and then waiter in the restaurant. Before long, their plates were empty and he topped off their wine.
“That was mouthwatering, Gage.” She leaned against the back of the stool and eyed him. “My sincere compliments to the chef.”
“It gave me pleasure to watch you eat. Every cook worth his salt likes seeing his food enjoyed.”
She looked aghast. “Did I pig out?”
“No, honey. You did not pig out.” He reached out a hand, smoothed it over her jaw line, and caressed her neck. “You didn’t gorge yourself nor did you pick at your food. Neither extreme. You ate like a normal human being and I like that.”
Tingles raced over her skin at his touch and continued after he took his hand away. She wondered about other women he had cooked for. How many dates had he entertained in just this fashion? Would this be a good time to bring up the former fiancée he hadn’t told her about? She decided against it. The idea of Gage with any other woman made her strangely uncomfortable.
Before that train of thought could establish itself, she hurried to say, “I make a mean meatloaf, myself. I’ll have to fix it for you someday.” She cringed inside as she realized it sounded like she was finagling another evening with him.
“Sounds good to me.” He slid the plates out of the way and took her hand in his on the countertop. Almost absentmindedly, he stroked her palm with his fingertips.
“It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” she continued, trying to ignore the sensations he was producing. “I usually double the recipe and freeze half. It was my grandpa’s favorite meal. He said he liked it even better than steak.”
“Mmm,” he said, and she didn’t know if he was responding to her words or to what he was doing with his fingers. It was just a touch to the hand, nothing to get crazy about. But she found herself imagining him doing the same on other parts of her body. A quickening warmth spread through her.
“You don’t do manicures in your spare time, do you?” she joked, trying to find a way to relieve the feelings he stirred in her.
The corner of his lip quirked in a half-smile. “No, why do you ask?”
“Just thought you might have a professional interest in my hand.”
“I was noticing how soft your skin is. It’s like a rose petal. You must not do any outdoor work.”
“I garden,” Jade said somewhat defensively. “But I wear gloves. Speaking of outdoors, your hands aren’t very rough for a guy who enjoys camping out and fishing.”
“Gloves here, too. Wonderful things.” He finally released her. She at once felt relieved and disappointed as she tucked her hand into her lap. He smiled. “Do you like fishing?”
“Actually, I do. My grandpa used to take me. He was always trying to catch the monster catfish. What I mainly caught was his enthusiasm. I’d get so excited for him. Grandma would pack us a lunch and we’d fill the cooler with sodas and iced tea. Then we’d head to our spot on the river.”
“I can almost picture your grandpa, and you as a little girl skipping along behind him. What was he like?”
“A gentle man. Patient. White-haired, even when I was young. Big, vibrant, loved life. Thought of each day as a gift to be unwrapped.”
Gage regarded her with serious eyes. “Sounds like he cast a big shadow. I wonder if anyone could ever measure up.”
Jade almost disagreed with his assessment, but thought better of it. Her grandfather probably was the standard of a good man in her eyes since she didn’t remember much about her dad. “I imagine every woman makes those kinds of comparisons, consciously or not. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve heard it said that every woman chooses a man with the same qualities as her father. Of course, in my case it would have to be father-figure. Which would be my grandpa. And he was a good man.” She lightened the tone. “So, did you take up fishing when you were working on the wharf as a kid?”
“No, strangely enough. A buddy of mine in college got me interested. He was a maniac about it. He would’ve fished twenty-four hours a day if he could get away with it. He used the bathtub in his apartment as a bait tank sometimes.”
“No!”
“Yes. He wasn’t popular with his neighbors.”
She giggled, then saw an opportunity to broach the subject that had been niggling at her. “Is that where you met your former fiancée? In school?”
His face was deadpan. Only the hesitation before he next spoke gave any indication he didn’t care for the question. “No. Her family attended a dinner party given by Maylene and Jean Pierre when I was in college. We didn’t date until later, though, after I earned my degree and took a much higher position with JP’s.”
“So you didn’t hit it off right away?”
“No. She saw me with new eyes after I started working for Jean Pierre, I guess. She was always encouraging me to push harder, to do more.”
“Sounds like a supportive relationship.”
A frown tightened his forehead. “You’d think, but it didn’t quite work out that way.”
“But you’ve gone far in the company.”
“In the company, yes. And I love my job. But, that wasn’t...well, I was referring to something else, actually.” He grimaced at some memory.
“Never mind,” Jade said quickly, feeling as if she were prying into matters that didn’t concern her. “It’s late let’s not worry about all that tonight.”
Jade regretted bringing the subject
up. She wasn’t even sure if they had really been discussing work or delving into the breakup of his engagement.
His expressive brown eyes traveled over her face like a caress. She could almost feel the sensation on her skin.
She rose quickly to her feet and carried their plates to the sink, with an efficient, no-nonsense bustle. “You did the cooking; now I’ll handle the cleanup.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it later.”
“No, really. It won’t take long and I want to do it.” She searched under the cabinet for dish soap and was reaching for it when he stopped her.
“I have a dishwasher,” he said as he got up from the stool and walked around the island. He stood beside her, an empty wine glass in each hand.
“I know, but there aren’t that many.”
“Jade.” He set the glasses on the counter and put a hand on hers, arresting her movements. “The music’s playing. Listen.”
I’ve got the world on a string drifted in from the living room.
“Who is that?” she asked, more to divert him than out of genuine curiosity.
“Frank Sinatra.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone your age who listens to that style of song.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I never said that. It’s just different from today’s music.”
“That’s one thing I appreciate about it,” he said with a smile that set her heart pounding.
She edged toward the sink again but he turned her to face him. He ran his hands over her wrists and up her arms to her shoulders, cupped them in his long, gentle fingers, and stared down into her eyes. “Listen,” he whispered.
The Sinatra tune transitioned seamlessly to Nat King Cole’s mellow, rich voice. She suddenly felt breathless. Gage’s muscular body leaned so close to hers, she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, smell the compelling scent of his masculine cologne, sense the flare of desire. It was answered by her own intense longing.
“Perhaps it’s time for me to go,” she managed to say, contrary to the impulses racing hot and blinding through her. Every cell in her body was alive, as if electrified. The last thing she wanted at this moment was to leave his mesmerizing and magnetic presence.
“Perhaps.” His hands slid to her shoulder blades, pressed lightly, and brought her closer.
She lifted her head and her eyes drifted shut as she yielded to the moment. His mouth claimed hers and her heart swelled like a flower opening into bloom. Softly at first, he explored her lips. Then the kiss went deeper, more intimate, and she gave in to the magic. Pressed against him. Snaked her arms around his waist. Ran her hands up his muscular back. Grasped handfuls of his shirt. A groan sounded deep in his throat. She moaned softly in response and clung to him.
It was an exquisite kiss. It was a song, an enchantment, a mindless exchange of pure bliss. All acrimony and distrust between them seemed instantly eradicated. It was the most stunning kiss she’d ever experienced.
Until it happened again. And again. Now her hands were buried in his thick, dark hair. And now his hands reached the small of her back, pulling her against his lower body. She could feel the hard, thick length of his passion, a hot shaft pressed into her belly. His strong fingers moved over her buttocks, cupping them, riding her sensuously against his manhood.
Pleasure flowed over her in warm, molten waves. From her head to her toes, she felt ripe and intoxicated by sensation.
“I can’t resist you,” he murmured. “I’m lost.”
From the living room, the music blended its magic with the delight of their embrace. The song was tender, romantic. It added another dimension to her excitement. Her body seemed to resonate to the melody and slow but compelling rhythm.
“I don’t understand it,” Gage whispered, touching his lips to her throat.
“Understand what?”
“You don’t even try to be seductive. You don’t make any deliberate attempt. Yet you entice me. Captivate me.”
I don’t understand it either, she thought. The same could be said of him. In fact, if anything, he’d gone out of his way to do the opposite. Yet he thrilled her, tempted her. Made her want him.
“Maybe we should stop while we still can,” he said. His voice sent tender emotions racing through her, each word a sensation.
“Mmm,” she said, noncommittally. Earlier, she’d suggested leaving, but look how that had turned out. Now, it was Gage who wanted to put on the brakes. Was it from some old-fashioned notion of protecting her honor? Or to save them both from what might be a terrible mistake? “Do you want me to go? Maylene’s is only several blocks away. It’s not that far to walk.”
“I wouldn’t have you out walking alone this time of night, even to cross the street.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the living room.
“I thought I was going,” she teased, as he deposited her gently on the sofa and then sat beside her.
“You are,” he said, nuzzling her neck with insistent lips. “Sometime.”
Her arms went around him and her eyes closed. She would relive this moment later, recall the rush of feelings his lips inspired.
“Perfection,” he said quietly. “Every bit of you is perfection. The sound of your voice, the softness of your skin, the way you taste. Feel. Do you realize what you do to me?”
Without giving her a chance to answer, his lips wandered lower, leaving a trail of hot tingles as they made their maddeningly slow way to the hollow of her throat. His hands slid up her side; his fingers skimmed over her breasts. She sucked in her breath as a feeling like hot coals tumbled inside her.
“How am I going to manage you?” he mumbled, as if thinking out loud. “I’ve done my best to resist you, but lord help me, I can’t do it. In spite of the situation, I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.”
In spite of the situation? Through the haze of passion, his words penetrated and she stopped cold. How am I going to manage you? She was something to be managed? Is that how he saw her? A vexing problem to be dealt with? Handled? Like an addict who doesn’t want to give up his habit, just keep it under some kind of control? Or a gambler who promises himself just one more big score and then he’ll quit for good? It was not only offensive, but drew a sharp contrast to her burgeoning affection for him. She’d been willing at one point to have an exciting fling, but she’d begun to care about the man, to have feelings that went beyond a casual affair. And she’d assumed he felt the same.
Perhaps she was a dilemma for him. He certainly presented one for her. A small burst of sadness chased away the ecstasy she’d been feeling.
“I think I have an answer for you.”
Gage immediately perceived the tone that indicated her change of mood. He pulled back and gazed at her. “An answer? To what?”
“Your question. How you can manage me.” She pushed him aside and stood, taking a couple of steps away from him. She crossed her arms at her waist. “In spite of the situation.”
He groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re twisting my words.”
“No, no. I’m not angry, Gage, just a little bewildered. But the answer for both of us is simple. I’ll be gone soon. Back to Kansas. Then neither of us will have to manage anything.”
“Don’t...”
“In the meantime, just focus on your doubts about me. How greedy, manipulative, and scheming you think I am. That ought to make your desires more manageable.”
“Of all the words I could’ve used, I had to choose that one.” He rested his forehead in his hand as if the conversation pained him. Looking up at her, his face was sorrowful. “I never called you any of those things.”
“You might as well have.” She shrugged. “And here’s how I’m going to manage you. I’m going to remind myself how suspicious and untrusting you are of me and how much it bothers you to want me.”
He reached out, took her hand, and she tried to pull it back, but he wouldn’t let go. Finall
y, she surrendered with a sigh of exasperation. He loosened his grip and caressed it with his other hand.
“You’re turning my protectiveness toward Maylene into something it isn’t. Something bitter and poisonous. It’s nothing like that. You have to take into consideration human nature. Maylene’s kind of wealth can corrupt even the most honorable of hearts. I personally know of cases where loving relatives turned on each other like vicious hyenas once a will was read. And there have been any number of people out to con Maylene. That’s not my imagination; they were real threats. It’s not just my duty to protect her; it’s my privilege. Especially after all she and Jean Pierre did for me. I love her, Jade. She’s more like family to me than my own folks. She believed in me, cared for me, encouraged me, and she still does.
“You have no idea how backward and ignorant I was when they took me in. Get this. She’d make sure I had a bedtime snack and stop by my room to tell me goodnight. I didn’t even know that was normal. I didn’t know it was normal to eat family dinners together, to talk over my days at school, to be around adults who were interested in my homework. To have clean clothes to wear every day. A hot breakfast. A real bed to sleep in instead of a moldy old couch. To see a dentist, for christsake. I thought I was in heaven. Only after it became routine did I realize Jean Pierre and Maylene were giving me what every child deserves. I’m not talking about the affluence. I’m talking about caring. They cared for me. And the idea that anyone might take advantage of Maylene just makes my blood boil. So I admit I might come on a little strong in that regard.”
She said nothing, but listened attentively, her hand limp in his. He made it all sound so reasonable.
He continued, “And when it comes to you, my sensibilities just seem to fly out the window. I’m not sure I’m able to be objective. I don’t trust my own judgment anymore. That’s what you’ve done to me.”
Untrusting Hearts: A Contemporary New Orleans Romance Page 16