by Loren, Roni
“I want what’s best for you. I want the best for you,” he said, some of the edge leaving his tone, earnestness replacing it.
“No,” she said, a pang of sadness moving through her. “You want what you think is best for me. Those are two different things. Like keeping Mom out of my life. I’m sure you thought that was best, but it left me without a mother. Maybe she wasn’t the greatest—yes, she made bad choices—but she was the only one I had. If you hadn’t sent her away, maybe I would’ve had someone to call when I needed a woman’s advice. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone all the time or like I was someone who was easy to abandon.”
Her father’s Adam’s apple bobbed, something pained moving over his features. “Rebecca…”
“I know you’ve done what you thought was best for me in my life. I know you love me. And you did give me so much. I love working in law. I love that you taught me to be independent and tough and driven.” She put her hand to her chest. “So much of who I am is because I had you in my corner. Mom left. Even if she wanted to come back, she left in the first place. You stayed. You did the hard stuff,” she said, the words spilling out of her like hot tears. “But that doesn’t mean there weren’t holes and gaps. It doesn’t mean you always did the best thing. It doesn’t mean that you’re not seeing things through warped glass.
“Right now, you are not doing what’s best for me,” she said emphatically. “You are about to cut me off from the only family I have. You are about to take away my father. Simply because I love someone and want to see how that goes and because I want to take a case that means something to me. You are about to lose me, Dad.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to take a breath. “Is that all I’m worth? The cost of being right?”
Her father’s eyes were locked on her, and to her astonishment, they began to shine in the fluorescent lights of her office. He pulled his hand from his pocket and swiped a hand down his face as if trying to erase what he’d revealed. “Rebecca, I don’t want to lose you. You’re my daughter. You’re what gets me up in the morning. You have been since the day you were born.”
Rebecca’s chest tightened, and the inside of her nose burned.
“But this… It’s so hard to watch,” he said, eyes going liquid again. “You have this path that will lead you to so much, a partnership, a stable career. This firm is supposed to be yours one day. You have a legacy that you’ve earned. I don’t want you to throw it away for a man. Or for some punk kid who needs to be in jail.”
Rebecca took a deep breath and stepped forward. She reached out and took her dad’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. “Dad, I hear what you’re saying. I know you’re worried about me. But you have to let me mess up. I don’t think I’m making a mistake on either of these decisions, but if I am, so what? You’ve raised me to be tough enough to handle the falls. And I know we are on different sides of the fence on the issue with Steven’s case, but that’s okay.
“Tell the press we have different political views on that matter. Tell them whatever you want. I’ve already told the truth about what happened with Trevor to a friend who’s going to use it in her research, so it’s not a secret anymore. But you’ve got to let me do my own thing. You have to let me try. And hey,” she said, lightening her tone, “if I fail, think of all the I told you so’s you’ll get to throw my way. It will be like hitting the fatherly lottery.”
He scoffed at that, but a hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips.
“Please don’t make this an ultimatum, Dad,” she said softly as she let go of his hands. “We don’t always agree because you raised me to be headstrong. Don’t punish me for being like you.”
He lifted his eyes at that and let out a sigh, rubbing the lines on his forehead. “Someone taught you how to argue a point.”
She arched a brow. “Uh-huh. Wonder who that could be.”
“I still think you’re making a mistake.”
She could hear the shift in his tone, the white flag. She gave him a little smile. “Noted.”
“And I can’t have the firm associated with that kid’s case,” he said gruffly. “My campaign…”
“I know. That’s okay. I think striking out on my own may be good for both of us. Give us some breathing room.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe give us a chance to practice a father-daughter relationship instead of a boss-employee one.”
He smirked. “I guess that wouldn’t be terrible, even though I do love being the boss. Being your dad is better.”
Something tight and tangled loosened inside her chest. “So you’re firing me?”
He inhaled a long breath and adjusted the knot on his tie. “Yes. I am.”
She grinned, and though she hadn’t done it in years, she put her arms around him for a hug. He still smelled like the same woodsy cologne she’d grown up with, and that made her want to cry. “Thanks, Dad.”
He settled his arms around her and patted her back in that awkward way he had. “I love you. And I’m sorry that I never told you about your mom. I was trying to protect you. She would’ve left again. I didn’t think either of us could handle it twice.”
She closed her eyes. That was one thing she at least knew for sure. Her dad was difficult and bossy and set in his opinion, but she never doubted that he loved her and wanted to keep her safe. She’d seen his face when he’d walked into the hospital room after the Long Acre shooting. That grief-stricken look that said he was being ripped apart on the inside. The tearful relief when he realized she was going to be okay. That was not something easily forgotten. Underneath all the other stuff, that was what mattered.
He released her from the hug and gave her a stern look. “Do not go and get married behind my back. You get a dangerous look in your eye when you talk about this man of yours.”
Rebecca laughed. Wes was dangerous. In all the very best ways. “I’ll be sure to send you a ticket to Vegas. We’re leaving next week.”
“Rebecca Anne Lindt.”
She gave him an evil grin and lifted her palms. “Kidding, Dad. Kidding. I’m in no rush.”
No rush at all.
She was going to savor every moment because for the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt free.
Free of her secret. Free of her father’s expectations. But most of all, free of herself and the protective fence she’d put around her life.
Maybe she’d finally gotten there.
Maybe she’d reached the good part.
epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
Wes washed the raw egg off his hands and reached into the cooler to find more butter. He’d put his favorite old-school rock playlist on low and was singing along to Autograph’s “Turn Up the Radio,” making the guitar sounds with his mouth and tapping his fingers on the fridge door to the drumbeat. His birth parents hadn’t left him with much, but they had introduced him to his favorite era of music.
There was something about rock music and cooking that paired well. Finding notes that went together was like finding flavors that complemented each other. Being bold and loud with creations but still fine-tuning the nuances that made the dish sing. Not being afraid to take risks. Fighting hard not to be a one-hit wonder.
Making a comeback when it was time.
He found the butter and grabbed a serrano pepper to add to the Southwestern Croque Monsieur. When he closed the cooler, he was still singing along and playing air drums with the stick of butter and the pepper. He turned toward the griddle and almost dropped everything when he saw Rebecca standing in the doorway of the school bus grinning at him.
“Damn, lawyer girl. You scared me. I thought you said you were meeting up with Taryn tonight.” He took a few strides to cross the small kitchen space inside the school bus and leaned down to kiss her.
“My spidey senses are finely tuned to alert me when there is delicious food to be had,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Taryn and I finished up early. She’s decided to use my information for her rese
arch but keep it all anonymous since my dad decided not to go public with anything. I told her I was okay if she released it, but she said the media attention would be distracting and unhelpful.”
Wes eyed her. “How do you feel about that?”
She shrugged. “I had come to terms with my connection to Trevor being out there, but I know the media would just sensationalize it. It could hurt the firm, and I don’t want it to affect the kids whose cases I’m handling. So I can’t say I’m unhappy about it not going public. But I’m glad I finally told the story and that Taryn can use it for something more important than a news story for people to gawk at. That matters.”
“It definitely does. And now you get to be home and leave that behind and eat my food.”
Somewhere in the yard, Knight barked.
Rebecca laughed. “He heard the word ‘food.’ But yeah, when you told me you might do some recipe testing, I rushed here. I didn’t want to leave you with only a dog as a taste taster. They have notoriously untrustworthy palates.”
“True. They do lick their own butts.”
“Right. So I am here to save you from that horror.”
He grinned. “So thoughtful and self-sacrificing.”
She nodded sagely. “Yes. You are very lucky I arrived in time.”
The simple words swept through him and filled him up inside. Rebecca had no idea how true that was. Yes, he was lucky to have her here tonight, but it was so much more than that. He thought back to that lonely night walking down the street after the Shirtless Chef party, how empty and angry he’d felt, how lost. He couldn’t predict now where that road would’ve led him if he hadn’t stumbled upon Rebecca that night, but he had a good idea it would’ve been nowhere good.
“You must be hungry. You didn’t even change clothes yet.” Her hair was piled into a messy bun atop her head, something she liked to do after she got home from work where she had to be all buttoned-up and lawyerly, but she hadn’t changed out of her pinstriped suit yet. The whole effect just made her look powerful and hot, which he didn’t realize he had a thing for until he’d started dating Rebecca. He tugged on her jacket lapels and brought her in for a kiss.
“Mmm,” she said, smiling as he released her from the kiss. “I didn’t want to risk missing anything.”
“Well, you’re just in time. I was about to test out Steven’s idea for a Southwestern Croque Monsieur. We tried it in class today, but I want to make sure that if we put it on the menu, we can turn it out for customers quickly with this equipment.”
A look of affectionate warmth crossed her face. “He’s coming up with new ideas a lot lately. I guess he’s settling in with his aunt?”
“Seems to be.” Steven had been cleared of charges, thanks to Rebecca, and Steven’s father had lost custody. But it’d been a transition for Steven to move in with an aunt he barely knew who lived in the Austin hills, far from his old neighborhood. But his aunt and her husband had been welcoming and had done everything they could to ease the transition, even letting Steven continue to attend the after-school program despite it being a half-hour drive from their neighborhood. “I think they’ve worked the growing pains out. He’s not used to having people who actually care where he’s going and what time he’ll be back. But he’s been in a great mood the last two weeks. He also may have developed a crush on Lola. He’s been trying to cook things he knows she’ll like and then getting all red-faced and awkward when she compliments his food.”
“Uh-oh.” Rebecca laughed. “Warning: drama ahead.”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I think Lola’s into it. She watches him when he’s not looking with this little smile on her face. It’s really kind of sweet.”
“Aww, you’re such a softie. I bet that one day they’ll make a beautiful restaurant together,” Rebecca said, slipping past him into the truck and shutting the door behind her so Knight didn’t sneak in. She snagged a pinch of shredded Monterey Jack off the cutting board and popped it in her mouth. “So, guess what I got today.”
“Sexier? Because I think that actually happened. That suit is doing things to my imagination that could shame the paint off this bus,” he said, giving her a slow up-and-down look. “You should undo another button on that shirt. It’s hot in here. Wouldn’t want you to faint.”
She smirked and playfully undid her top button, letting her white blouse gape open enough for him to see the edges of her lacy bra. “Better?”
The front of his jeans got a little tighter. “Much.”
“But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
He turned off the flattop griddle, his skin now truly overheated. “What did you get?”
She reached behind her and pulled something from the waistband of her slacks. She held up an envelope and grinned. “Permission for Adele to park her pretty yellow butt at the food-truck park, three spots over from Dev.”
Wes’s mouth fell open. “Really? Like, no more paperwork? No more red tape? They told me—”
“They were giving us the runaround is what they were doing, so I may have called in a small favor from my dad. He knew the guy who was dragging his feet on the permits and did his thing. We can roll Adele out for her debut next month, which should give the class enough time to wrap up all the finishing touches, finalize the menu, and get it out of my backyard.”
“You’re serious,” he said.
“I am.”
Wes crossed the small space, a rush of excitement going through him, and picked her up off her feet. “It’s really happening.”
“It’s so happening!” she announced, laughing as he spun her around and nearly knocked everything off the narrow counters.
He gave her a hard kiss and sat her on top of the bare prep table, parking himself between her knees. “The kids are going to be so excited.”
“Yes. The kids,” she said, tracing her fingertips down his chest and sending hot tendrils of desire curling through his body. “It’s totally about the kids.”
He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I’m a little excited about it.”
She arched a brow and sent a pointed look downward, tucking a finger in his waistband and tugging. “Well, you’re excited about something, chef.”
He braced his hands on either side of her and crowded her against the darkened windows. “Oh, that has nothing to do with the truck. That has everything to do with my very beautiful, very unbuttoned lawyer girl spread out on my prep table. I’m suddenly not so motivated to do recipe testing.”
She looped her arms around his neck, her blue eyes wicked. “Maybe I’m suddenly not so hungry.”
“A shame.” He kissed down the curve of her neck, his hand sliding along her thigh. “Guess we’ll have to find something better to do to work up an appetite.”
“We can’t do this here,” she said, tilting her head back to give him better access to her neck. “Anyone could see us. And I’m pretty sure it would be a health code violation.”
He chuckled against her skin and blindly reached out to find the light switch. The bus went dark except for the moonlight spilling through the narrow, horizontal windows. “Now, no one can see us.”
“Wes,” she gasped.
“Hold on, lawyer girl. We’re about to christen Adele.”
*
Rebecca’s heart was thumping hard in her chest and her blood pumping hot as Wes guided her legs around his waist and then lifted her off the table. Her rational side said they should go in the house. There was a perfectly good bed, couch, or living room floor to violate. But when Wes carried her to the back of the bus where they’d had enough room to set up a VIP table with two bench bus seats flanking it, a sharp thrill went through her.
Wes set her atop the table and pulled off his T-shirt, leaving him in just the black bandanna that held back his hair, his tattoos, and a pair of worn jeans. Her libido gave a sharp kick, and she licked her lips. “Maybe we should rethink this Shirtless Chef thing. We’ll make millions.”
Wes gave her a rougish smile.
“Ready to share me already?”
“No, you’re right,” she said with a nod. “No sharing. There’d be blood.”
He braced a hand beside her on the table and unbuttoned her slacks with the other. “I have to say, this slightly violent side of you makes me a little hard.”
She reached down and slid her hand over the front of his jeans, the stiff length of him hot against her palm. “Feels like more than a little.”
“Well, my woman is about to be stripped naked and wearing only moonlight and a smile soon, so what else would you expect?”
She smiled as he tugged her slacks and panties down her legs. My woman. Once upon a time, that probably would’ve raised her feminist hackles. She didn’t belong to anyone. But with Wes, it pushed all her buttons because she’d finally figured out what people really meant when they said things like that. From the outside looking in, she’d never gotten it. Now she did. She was his, and he was hers because they chose to entrust their hearts to each other. A bold and scary choice, but one that gave her fear no longer.
She’d never felt more right about any decision in her life.
Wes pushed her jacket off her shoulders and then she unbuttoned her blouse, letting it and her bra fall to the floor. He gave her a ravenous look that made a hot shiver run over her skin.
He cupped her breast and ran a roughened thumb over her nipple, making desire curl low and liquid in her belly. Then he was lowering himself to his knees, kissing each part of her along the way. Mouth, neck, breast… His tongue tasting every inch of her. Sternum, belly, hip… Wet, stirring kisses that left flames burning in their wake. The slope of her pelvis, her inner thigh…