A Touch of Cinnamon (Three Sisters Catering Book 2)

by Bethany Lopez

  I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t ready to let her walk past me and ignore me for the rest of the semester, so I left all of my belongings in the seat at the end of the last row and walked towards her until she bumped into me, then I maneuvered it so that we were sitting next to each other.

  I found the way she laid out her school supplies just so totally charming, and her scent threatened my senses, so I knew I had to do something un-Jericho like and ask her out. No way this girl would be up for a night of just fooling around, hell no, she’d run fast in the other direction at the mere thought.

  No, if I wanted to get to know this girl, and I did, I had to make an exception to my rule. I figured grabbing a cup at Coffee Time would be harmless enough, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  One cup of coffee and a little conversation, and I was a goner.

  Natasha was sweet, funny, intelligent, and just as goal-oriented as I was. We talked about our upbringings, which couldn’t have been more different, our families, and our futures. After the third cup of coffee, we switched to water, then decided to stop at the fast food joint next door for dinner.

  If I had my way, I would have taken her back to my apartment and kept her there for eternity. Alas, she said she had to go back to the dorms and study, but promised to meet me again soon.

  Which was why I was standing outside of her dorm like an idiot, holding a cup of coffee and a muffin.

  I heard her before I saw her, her laugh causing the hair on my arms to stand up and my heart to gallop in anticipation.

  There was a brief second where I worried that I was nearing stalker territory, then Natasha’s head lifted and her gaze met mine, and her smile lit up my world. I watched as she said something to the girl she was with, then broke off and walked toward me.

  “Hey,” she said, somewhat breathless.

  “Morning,” I managed roughly, my face splitting in an unavoidable grin. “Breakfast?” I asked, holding up the coffee and muffin.

  “That’s sweet, thanks,” Natasha said shyly, accepting the gifts from my hands.

  “Can I walk you to class?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Would you like to go to dinner tonight?” I asked, unable to play it cool and wait. I knew what I wanted, so I damn well was going to ask for it. I’d lived too much of my life settling for less. Not this time.

  Her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Where? When?”

  “I can swing by and pick you up at six,” I said, then asked, “Do you like Italian?”

  Natasha smiled. “Love it.”

  “Great, so, Italian tonight, and maybe Mexican tomorrow?” I suggested.

  Natasha laughed. It was a beautiful, welcoming sound that I wanted to hear time and time again.

  “Tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Yeah, then Chinese on Thursday, Thai on Friday, and pizza on Saturday. Sunday, we can grill burgers, or hot dogs, if you like . . .”

  Natasha laughed again.

  “You’ve got the whole week planned out,” she said with a smile.

  “You can plan next week,” I offered.

  “That sounds like a lot of money. Maybe we should cook a couple meals at home, or eat at the cafeteria,” Natasha suggested, and my heart soared.

  She hadn’t laughed at me, or looked at me like I was a creepy stalker. Instead, she seemed to be on board. I wondered if she felt the pull that I did, if she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her.

  “Whatever you choose,” I replied honestly. I’d eat a year of cafeteria food if it meant eating my meals with her.

  “Hmmm, I’ll have to think about it, but for starters, yeah . . . Italian tonight, and Mexican tomorrow.”

  I hadn’t kissed her yesterday, the timing hadn’t felt right, and I didn’t want to pressure her, but right then, in that courtyard, it felt like I had to kiss her. So, I stopped walking, and she did too, and when she turned to me, I placed my hands on her face, cupped it softly, and ran my thumb over her cheek.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, taking in her flushed cheeks and sparkling hazel eyes, then I lowered my face toward hers, keeping my eyes open so I could watch as her pupils dilated. Her gasp hit my lips as she parted hers, and I brushed against them softly, before tilting my head slightly and deepening the kiss.

  We kissed until we were lightheaded and feeling just a bit reckless, then I pulled back with a smile and chuckled when I saw her arms outstretched as she held onto the coffee and muffin so they wouldn’t get crushed between us.

  “Ready?” I asked, biting back a groan when she licked her lips and nodded in response.

  I knew that she would be the death of me, and that I was really, really, going to enjoy the ride.

  Natasha ~ Present

  “WHOA, WHERE ARE YOU GOING in those sexy boots?”

  I was closing my door and looked up to the left to see Dru’s head peeking out of hers.

  Dru, Millie, and I all lived in the apartments above Three Sisters, giving us each our own space, while allowing us to be close by while we were building our business. Pretty soon, Millie would be moving out and into the house Jackson lived in with his daughter Kayla. They’d talked about buying a new house, but since Kayla had grown up there and they both loved the neighborhood, they’d decided to stay.

  I thought it was weird, since Jackson had bought the house with his ex-wife, but if Millie didn’t mind, it was really none of my business.

  It would be weird not having Millie right down the hall, but we’d still get to see her every day at work, so I was okay. Dru was having a bit of a harder time coming to terms with it. She and Millie were twins, after all, and they’d never really lived apart.

  We’d talked about using her apartment as a storage unit, like we did with the fourth space on the second floor, but had decided to rent it out instead. We didn’t really need the space, and it would generate a little extra income, so we figured once Millie moved out, we’d clean it up and advertise it for rent.

  I looked down at my ankle boots, then back up at Dru.

  “They’re not so sexy . . . more practical than anything,” I tried.

  Dru stepped out into the hallway, crossed her arms, and looked at me suspiciously.

  “Practical?” she asked, dryly with a shake of her head. “Not so much . . . What’s going on? You don’t get dressed up like that unless we have an event, or are going out for the night.”

  I just stared at her, not wanting to say where I was going and have her make a big deal out of it.

  “Please, tell me that you’re finally going on a date,” Dru said, putting her palms together and closing her eyes in prayer.

  See, dramatic. Dru always made a big deal out of everything.

  “No, no date, I’m just going to dinner . . . by myself.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “Dinner. By yourself,” she mimicked.

  “Yup,” I replied.

  “You don’t like to do anything by yourself. Not shopping, not to the movies, not even to take out the trash. What’s really going on? Where are you going to dinner?” she asked with air quotes.

  Ugh, why does she have to be so obnoxious?

  “Prime Beef,” I mumbled, then turned and tried to hurry down the stairs.

  “What was that?” she asked, rushing to me and putting her hand on my arm to stop my retreat. “Prime Beef? Are you meeting Jericho? What’s going on? Have you talked to him?”

  I sighed and turned to look at her.

  “No, we haven’t talked yet, that’s why I’m going over there, to clear the air once and for all. Like Millie said, he’ll probably be involved in the wedding, and this avoidance act is getting old. It’s time for us to talk it out and put the past behind us. We’re both adults, we can do this,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “It’s time to move on.”

  Dru’s face softened and she squeezed my arm.

  “Do you want me to go with you?”
she asked.

  “Yes,” I admitted with a sharp laugh, “but I need to go alone.”

  “Okay, but I’ll be here when you get back, and you’d better come straight to my apartment, or I’m coming to you.”

  I smiled at my sister and said, “Thanks.”

  She squeezed my hand again, then watched me worriedly as I gave a little finger wave and started down the stairs.

  Prime Beef was just across the street, but it felt like I was walking the green mile to get there.

  God, why is this so hard? Why am I such a big chicken?

  I let a couple enter ahead of me, then gave a small smile when the man held the door open so I could enter. I walked inside and inhaled, taking in the delicious scent of fresh-baked bread as I walked into the entryway.

  As I looked around, my first thought was, Wow, he totally did it.

  Prime Beef was beautiful, and it was so totally Jericho. When we were dating, he’d often talked about his dream to open a restaurant and what it would look like. Looking around, it was exactly how I had pictured it.

  “May I help you?” Pulled from my thoughts, I glanced to the hostess at the stand and stepped forward.

  “Yes, um, just for one. Do you have a bar or something I could sit at, so I don’t take up a whole table?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure if Jericho would even have time to talk now, it being the dinner hour and all, but at least I was making initial contact. My hope was that he’d notice me and come talk to me, then we could set up a time to meet and talk for real. Otherwise, I’d enjoy my meal, then ask the server to talk to him afterwards, and try to set it up then.

  “Of course, the bar is self-seating, so you can walk on back and sit wherever you’d like.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and started in the direction she’d indicated.

  I was almost to the bar, intent on ordering a stiff drink, when his voice from behind me stopped me in my tracks.

  “Natasha,” Jericho called softly.

  Ah, my name, said in that voice, brought back a flood of memories that threatened to bring me to my knees.

  I needed a minute to collect myself before I could turn and see him up close, so I stood there, facing the bar, as I struggled to breathe.

  Jericho ~ Present

  I WATCHED AS SHE WALKED across the street, one foot stepping slowly in front of the other, as if she were marching to her death. Then, as she debated whether or not to actually step inside of Prime Beef, I held my breath and waited. I saw her step inside and look around, and wondered what she was thinking.

  I’d shared everything with Natasha. Often bouncing ideas off of her and asking for her opinion. I craved her thoughts in that moment.

  I waited until she started toward the bar to come up behind her, and this time it was me struggling to find the courage to act.

  At the sound of her name on my lips, Natasha stopped, but didn’t immediately turn around. No, her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath, and I could only assume she was steadying herself before she turned to face me.

  It was that breath that told me she still cared, and I didn’t even try to fight the hope that filled me with that knowledge.

  “Natasha,” I said again, my voice so low that only she’d be able to hear.

  Finally, she turned, her eyes wide as she looked up at me. After a few moments, her lips parted, but no sound came out.

  Terrified that she’d leave, I took control and asked, “Join me?”

  I held out my arm, praying that Natasha would take it. When she did, I led her to a secluded table that we kept open for ourselves, or last-minute special guests. It was hidden in a little alcove, which would give us the privacy I knew we needed.

  I held her chair out, before moving to sit across from her.

  “A drink?” I asked, when she continued to look at me without speaking.

  “Yes,” Natasha said roughly, then cleared her throat and added, “Dirty martini.”

  I nodded at my server, indicating that I wanted my usual, and to get Natasha her martini. When he turned and left us alone, I folded my hands on the table and waited.

  “I saw you . . . today, at Three Sisters,” Natasha began. My gaze dropped when she began fidgeting with the napkin in front of her, and I bit back a smile at the evidence of her nerves.

  She was as bad at this as I was, maybe worse.

  “Yes,” I replied simply. Even though I’d been willing to make the first move this morning, we were on my turf now, and I wanted to hear what she’d come to say.

  “Why were you there?” Natasha asked boldly, her tone getting stronger.

  “I came to see you, to talk things out once and for all,” I admitted.

  “Then, why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to intrude on your moment,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even, so as not to give away the fact that seeing her with another man had caused me pain, even after all of these years.

  “My moment?” she asked, looking adorably confused.

  “The guy . . . the morning-after breakfast . . .” I managed, even though each word felt like razor blades in my throat.

  Natasha’s expression cleared and she chuckled lightly, then shook her head.

  “Kalvin is a client,” she explained, and my vision cleared. “We’re catering his engagement dinner . . . to a woman who is not me.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed,” I said, feeling like a fool. A relieved, very happy, fool.

  “Anyway,” Natasha began, letting out a deep sigh, then smiling at my waiter as he served our drinks. “Thank you,” she said, then took a sip of her martini. “Delicious,” she assured him, then looked back to me.

  I held my scotch a little tighter than necessary and asked the question that I’d been dying to learn the answer to for the last few years.

  “Why did you leave?”

  Natasha put her drink down in front of her and cleared her throat.

  “Millie called . . . My mother took a turn for the worse. I had to get to her, to spend whatever time she had left . . .”

  “I understand that, Natasha,” I said dryly. “I understood that then, and I still do. What I don’t understand, is why it had to be like that. No goodbye, no note, no phone call, just . . . gone.”

  I didn’t tell her that I’d sat in Coffee Time until lunch, waiting for her to show up, then went to her apartment, sure that she was sick or injured, only to find that it had been cleared out. She’d simply disappeared.

  “I knew if I told you, you’d have offered to come with me, or asked me to come back . . . I knew you wouldn’t let me walk out of your life.”

  “No, you’re right about that, because it made no sense. It makes no sense. What did one thing have to do with the other? Why was it me, or your family? Why not both?”

  My voice had started to rise, so I took a long drink of scotch and forced myself to calm down.

  “I told you about my parents,” she began, her eyes on the table, rather than me. “How my mother loved my father more than life itself, and he’d just left her . . . left all of us, for another woman, never looking back.”

  I nodded. We’d told each other everything.

  “She never moved on . . . never recovered. I knew I had to leave you then, in that way, because I didn’t want to leave you. My mother was dying and my sisters needed me, and all I could think about was being away from you. How I’d miss you, all the things I wouldn’t get to do with you.”

  Natasha stopped when she started to get choked up, took a calming breath, and continued, “It hurt so bad, it felt like I was the one on my death bed. I wanted to call you, to go back to you, and I knew that I would . . . that once she passed and I helped Millie and Dru with everything, I’d go back to you.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked, my own voice catching with emotion.

  “Before she died, with her last breath, my mother called out to my father. The man who’d left her to raise three daughters alone, the one who’d broken her heart wi
thout a backwards glance, and she still yearned for him. I loved you that way, and that gave you all the power. The power to smash me into a million little pieces. So, I stayed. I finished my degree here and decided to go into business with my sisters.”

  “And smashed me into a million pieces,” I said softly, not caring how those words made me look.

  They were the truth.

  “I’m sorry, Jericho, for all of it . . . Truly, I am.”

  I nodded.

  “And now?” I asked, feeling worse than I had in years.

  “Now, my sister is engaged to your friend, and there’s going to be a wedding. Plus, we’re business owners on the same street, in the same town. Is there any way that we could learn to be civil, to coexist?”

  It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was better than the avoidance of the past year. It was a start.

  “Yes, of course,” I answered, managing to sound unaffected, even though my soul was crushed.

  Natasha gave me a small smile.

  “Thank you.”

  I nodded, and she stood, so I stood with her.

  “I’d better get going,” Natasha said.

  “I have to get to work,” I agreed.

  She smiled again and dipped her chin, then turned and walked out of the alcove.

  I resisted the urge to pick up her martini glass and smash it against the wall. Instead, I downed my scotch and gave her a few moments to get out of the restaurant, then I went to check on my guests.

  Natasha ~ Present

  THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS flew by in a flash of fiftieth birthdays, wedding receptions, and Kalvin and Malia’s engagement dinner.

  We were so busy that it should have been impossible for me to let what Jericho said fester, but . . . fester it did.

  And smashed me into a million pieces, he’d said, making me feel like the worst person in the world. I’d gone home that night, without dinner, and gone straight to Dru’s as promised. Millie had been at Jackson’s, so I cried on Dru’s shoulder and we’d ordered a pizza.

  I filled Millie in the next day, letting her know the talk had taken place, and we’d agreed to a truce. She’d been relieved, but I’d noticed her watching me warily ever since, as if she were waiting for me to break down at any moment.