My Name Is Desire: The Bad Baker Boys: Mark's Story

by Tonya Brooks

  Sighing in frustration, he lifted the mattress back off, repositioned the skirt and then dropped the mattress in place. With a little bit of wiggling and shifting, he managed to get the damn thing to hang straight. Sort of straight, he amended after stepping back and taking a look. He finished making the bed, figured out how to stuff the new pillows into the shams, placed the little foo-foo pillows in the center like they were in the picture on the bag and shook his head in amazement. It was pretty, but damn it took a lot of effort.

  Mark went outside and picked up all the cardboard and debris from the boxes and carried it down to the complexes dumpster, put Luke's tools back in the Hummer and walked in the front door. He looked around and was surprised at how good the place looked. It was amazing what a few simple changes could do, he realized. The apartment looked like a home now and he smiled because Desi was making a place for herself here with him. He walked into the kitchen, pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  “What was that for?” she asked breathlessly when he released her.

  “Just because it's been too long since I kissed you,” he said easily and sat down at the table to watch her. She was poetry in motion as she moved around the small galley kitchen, her every movement graceful and with purpose. She chopped a handful of pecans on the cutting board with such speed and precision that he stared in horror at the steel blade as it came down next to her hand again and again with enough force to sever her fingers. Mark didn't even realize he had moved until he saw his hand covering hers and Desi looked up at him in surprise, the blade paused mid-stroke.

  His face was unnaturally pale and had the strangest expression, Desi realized. She placed the knife on the counter and reached up to touch his cheek. “Are you alright?” she asked in concern.

  No, he wasn't, dammit. “You scared the hell out of me,” Mark confessed hoarsely as he pulled her into his arms to reassure himself that she was okay.

  “What did I do?” she asked in bewilderment.

  “That damn knife,” he said and shuddered. “I just knew you were going to chop your fingers off.”

  She almost laughed and would have if he hadn't been genuinely upset. “I cut 'em up a lot when I was learning how to chop,” Desi admitted and smiled at him reassuringly. “But I've done it so often over the years that I could probably do it blindfolded and not get a scratch.”

  He repressed another shudder at the thought and said wryly, “Maybe you should give me the blindfold.”

  “How about a glass of wine and an appetizer?” she suggested and pulled away to pour him a glass from the bottle of Chardonnay that she had left open to breathe.

  Mark didn't particularly care for wine, but right now he needed something to calm his nerves. “The wine will do for now,” he assured her and took a swallow. It wasn't bad at all, but what he really needed was a shot of something more potent.

  “Have a seat and relax. Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “It smells delicious,” he said honestly and sat back down at the table.

  “I just prepared something simple since the kitchen still has to be set up properly,” Desi explained.

  “What are we having?” he asked curiously.

  “For starters, Creole crab cakes with a lemon basil cream sauce, spinach salad with baby greens, fresh strawberries and mandarin oranges tossed in Champagne vinaigrette and topped with candied pecans and feta cheese. The main course is pan seared pecan encrusted trout with lemon chive butter, rice and spinach and for dessert, fresh strawberries and whipped cream. I would have preferred Chantilly cream, but I forgot to pick up a bottle of Grand Mariner.”

  Mark stared at her incredulously. “You call that simple?” he asked in disbelief. “My God, it sounds like a gourmet meal.”

  She gave him a superior look and said dryly, “Of course it is, but it's a simple meal to prepare.”

  Popping a frozen pizza in the oven was his idea of a simple meal. This was fine dining no matter what she called it. “I could have run down to the bar and picked up the brandy,” he pointed out.

  “You were busy putting the entertainment center together,” she said with a smile. “This will do for now, but next time we'll use the good stuff.” Desi checked the trout and sighed. “I wish this stove was gas. It cooks so much more evenly.”

  “I can...”

  “No, you can't,” she interrupted the offer before he could finish. “It will do until I can find something permanent. I think I'd like a house. Kylie is going to feel terribly confined in this small space.”

  “I know a good realtor,” Mark offered and finished the glass of wine.

  She placed two plates on the table and went back to get an empty wine glass and the bottle. Desi refilled his glass, poured one for herself and sat down across from him. “What's wrong, Mark?” she asked when he just stared at her.

  “You're drinking?” he asked warily.

  “I actually do drink wine with dinner since it enhances the flavors when paired correctly,” she assured him in amusement. “Besides, I've decided that trying new things is a hell of a lot more fun than playing it safe all the time.”

  Mark knew she was talking about them and couldn't suppress a smile. He cut a piece of the crab cake with his fork, popped it into his mouth and closed his eyes in something akin to ecstasy. “Oh, my God. This is incredible.”

  “It's not bad,” she critiqued her cooking. “I prefer to use fresh crab, but they only had prepackaged.”

  “It can't get any better,” Mark denied and took another bite. “This cream sauce is amazing. I can taste the lemon and the basil.”

  “Thankfully they had fresh basil,” she agreed.

  His reaction was pretty much the same over the salad and by the time she placed the main course in front of him, Mark was practically salivating in anticipation. “Now I know what you meant,” he sighed. “This is real food.”

  “I'm glad you like it,” she smiled. “The butcher assured me the trout was fresh but I normally use fish caught that day to ensure freshness. Once it’s been frozen, it loses its flavor.”

  “With food like this, you're gonna make a killing,” Mark assured her. “The Manor House might as well lock their doors.”

  Desi laughed at his confidence in her skill. “First we have to find a suitable location,” she reminded him.

  “Timmy's been working on it,” he replied. “He's the realtor I mentioned. I talked to him last week and he said there were a few places we might want to look at.”

  “The sooner the better,” she nodded her agreement and went into the kitchen area to remove the berries from the refrigerator and top them with fresh whipped cream. “I'm sorry I didn't have time to prepare something more interesting for dessert.”

  “The berries look great,” Mark said as he snagged her hips and pulled her astride his lap. “But I've got something else in mind for dessert.”

  “You do?” she asked with a wicked smile, dipped a strawberry slice in the whipped cream, put it in her mouth and kissed him.

  Mark wound up with the strawberry and chewed it as his eyes ate her alive. “Got any more whipped cream?” he asked hopefully.

  “There's a bowl of it in the fridge,” she admitted and took a swallow of wine from his glass.

  “Oh, yeah. We're gonna have dessert,” he promised and carried her into the kitchen where he removed the bowl from the refrigerator and took it to bed with them.

  ~~~~

  Much later, Mark lay with her sleeping peacefully in his arms and smiled happily. Desi was the most incredible woman he'd ever known. Not only was she wild in bed, and a beautiful, interesting, intelligent woman, but she could cook like nobody's business. He had found the perfect woman. His last thought before sleep claimed him was that he was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

  Chapter Ten

  Thursday, August 15, 2013

  On Monday, Mark called to have the cable and internet installed, took Desi to the furniture store to find a dresser, and back to the mall to
buy curtains and matching throw pillows. He was almost beginning to enjoy these shopping excursions because she was really making the place look like a home and he wanted her to settle down and feel like she belonged there with him.

  They quickly settled into a comfortable routine. They would make love when they woke up, Desi would cook a gourmet breakfast and the pair would get dressed and meet Timmy to look at locations for the new club and houses that were available. In the afternoon, Desi would go back to the apartment to prepare a gourmet dinner while Mark went to his office at the club to handle his various business interests. They'd share a romantic meal, make love again and go to the club for the rest of the evening before going back to her apartment and spending the night in each other’s arms. It was idyllic and perfect, but they both knew it wouldn't last.

  Word got around town that Mark and his new lady were house hunting and the rumor mill went wild with speculation and innuendo. The barber shop actually had a pool going on whether they were going to get married or just live together and if Mark would get cold feet and back out, while the hair salon was betting on the actual date of a wedding.

  ~~~~

  They met Timmy at a house that morning and the breath lodged in Desi's throat when Mark pulled in the driveway. The house was absolutely perfect and she loved it on sight. A country style colonial home, it was two stories with pale yellow vinyl siding accented with gray stone, crisp white trim and black shutters. The matching stone walkway led up to a charming wraparound porch supported by double columns and a glossy black door flanked by transom windows.

  The minute they stepped inside the foyer, Desi felt as if she had come home. The first floor contained a den, formal living room with a fireplace and a formal dining room, as well as a family room with another fireplace, a breakfast room and the kitchen was a chef's dream right down to the marble pastry counter. Even the four car garage was impressive. Desi continued on around to the rotunda and forced herself to climb the stairs at a sedate pace even though her heart was pounding with excitement.

  The second floor did not disappoint. From the balcony with an open view down into the family room, she turned left into a fabulous master suite complete with its own fireplace, massive closets and an incredible spa style bathroom. To the right of the balcony there were three more bedrooms, a media room with yet another fireplace and a loft area with window seats that she knew her daughter would love. The house was everything she wanted, but so much more than she needed and it broke her heart to tell Timmy it was too big.

  “You really liked that house, didn't you?” Mark asked as he backed out of the driveway.

  “It’s perfect,” she confessed in a wistful tone. “But far too big for me and Kylie.”

  It was the kind of home that a family should live in and she was saddened by the knowledge that she and her daughter would probably never have that sense of security. By this point, she had admitted to herself that she was hopelessly in love with Mark and knew that no other man could ever take his place.

  In a perfect world, she and Mark would get married, buy this beautiful home and the three of them would live happily ever after. But since she was too practical to believe in fairy tales, Desi resigned herself to the knowledge that this time with him was all she could ever have and was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

  “It’s a good investment,” he said seriously. “This is a great neighborhood and it’s only a block from Pop's.”

  “It’s too big,” she said again. “Kylie and I don't need that much space.”

  Mark could hear the wistfulness in her voice and had to agree. The place was over forty-seven hundred square feet and much too big for two people. Still, it was a damn good investment and the owners were willing to reduce the price to make a quick sale. It was too bad he wasn't in the market for a house. There was no way in hell he'd buy something that nice to use as a rental property.

  “Timmy will find something,” he said confidently. “He said the next one was smaller but just as nice.”

  Timmy had mentioned several other houses that morning but Desi had been so interested in the dream house that she hadn't paid him much attention. “Which one are we going to look at?”

  “Its downtown overlooking the river,” Mark explained as he took a left on Lakeside Drive.

  “Stop the car!” Desi exclaimed as she stared at a massive art deco style structure sitting at the back of a weed infested lot.

  “Baby, what's wrong?” Mark asked as he rolled to a stop.

  “That's it!” she said in excitement and turned sparkling emerald eyes on him. “Oh, Mark, it’s just perfect.”

  “What is?” he asked in confusion as he looked around to see what had her so excited.

  “That building.”

  He looked at the old warehouse she pointed to in surprise and questioned, “For what?”

  “For the club and restaurant,” Desi laughed.

  Mark was not enthused. “You're kidding, right?” he asked hopefully.

  “Pull in and let’s get a better look,” she insisted.

  “Baby, it’s an abandoned warehouse,” Mark pointed out as he pulled into what had once been a parking lot but was now overrun with weeds.

  “An art deco warehouse,” she corrected. “Think about it, Mark. Art deco was all the rage back in the thirties when jazz clubs first became popular.”

  “And?” he queried, still not getting whatever point she was trying to make.

  “What could be better for a smoky, jazz themed place than an original building from that period?”

  She had that much right. The damn place was old. They got out of the car and walked around it, peering in the glass block without much success.

  “Look at the design with an open mind,” Desi encouraged as Harley had taught her to do. “Its classical straight lines and curving corner with this wonderful wall of glass block is definitely unique. You don’t see this style very often anymore.”

  There was a reason for that but he refrained from pointing it out and hurting her feelings. “Desi, it's got warehouse doors along the front and back.”

  “Which could be replaced with more cinder block or even glass block windows,” she assured him. “And look how big it is. Lord, this place might be even bigger than what we need.”

  That was a distinct possibility. The place was huge and replacing the doors with windows might work, but even so... “It's a warehouse.” he felt compelled to point out yet again.

  “Which means it wouldn't cost a fortune to renovate since the inside is probably just one big open space,” she reasoned.

  Okay, that got his attention. “You could be right about that,” Mark reluctantly agreed.

  “I wonder what it was used for?” she asked curiously.

  “Timmy might know,” Mark suggested as he pulled out his phone and called his friend. “Sorry, Timmy. We got hung up looking at the old warehouse over on Lakeside Drive,” he apologized because his friend was waiting to show them the other house. “Desi seems to think this place might do for the new club. You got any idea who owns it?”

  “Yeah. It belongs to Charlie Simms,” the realtor replied.

  “Tell me you're joking,” Mark pleaded. After he'd had him locked up, he knew there was no way in hell Charlie would sell him anything. The other man had always been known to carry a grudge and Mark had really pissed him off when he'd barred him from the club, or so he'd heard through the grapevine.

  “Afraid not. It's been in his mother’s family since it was built,” Timmy explained.

  “Is there any way we can get a look at it without him knowing who's interested?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not a problem,” the realtor agreed. “You want me to set it up?”

  “Yeah. Today if possible.”

  “I'll call you back.” In less than ten minutes, he did just that. “I'm gonna swing by Charlie's and pick up the key so I'll meet you there in about fifteen minutes,” Timmy informed him.

  “Damn, that was easy,�
�� Mark said in surprise and followed Desi around the back of the building. “Timmy's coming with a key.”

  “Good,” she flashed him that brilliant smile and asked, “What's over there?”

  Mark looked past the warehouse to where the boardwalk ended at the edge of the property. Sonuvabitch! This just kept getting better. Maybe Desi was on to something. “That's the Riverwalk,” he explained. “The town spent a damn fortune to put a boardwalk along the edge of the river through the whole downtown area.”

  “It's nice,” she nodded. “What's it for?”

  “They use it for various things, but the biggest event is the Fourth of July. There’s a huge fireworks display over the river and pretty much everyone in town comes down here for the day. They have live bands and vendors set up along the side and the local merchants usually do a good business selling their wares,” Mark pointed out with a grin. “Having a restaurant and nightclub attached to it could be highly profitable as well. Especially since a lot of weddings are held over there in the gazebo.”

  Desi had noticed the charming gazebo set up on the rear lawn of the court house and nodded her agreement. “It is a great location,” she admitted. “And we could have a really nice alfresco area back here.”

  “You know, this might work after all,” Mark agreed as he draped his arm around her shoulders and led her on around the building.

  Timmy arrived and they met him at the front door. “I had a hell of a time understanding Charlie,” he said in amusement. “He was laughing so hard he could barely talk.”

  “I can imagine,” Mark agreed dryly.

  “Apparently he's been trying to unload this place for years without success. It seems it’s registered as a historical site and the historical society won't let him tear it down or play around with the integrity of the structure, so that could be a problem.”

  “Not a problem,” Mark denied confidently.

  “I wouldn't think so,” Desi agreed. “I wouldn't want to change the art deco style. That's what makes it perfect for us.”