by Candis Terry
He eased out of her and an immediate chill flushed over her body.
“See.” He pointed at her pebbled nipples. “You are cold.”
“I wouldn’t be if you’d stayed in place.”
“Have to get rid of this first.”
When he left the room, she knew he was disposing of the condom. “I hope you have plenty more of those in your wallet.”
Though she could barely see through the darkness, he came back into the room grinning. The humor in his heart verified it when he said, “Sex maniac.”
She leaned up on her elbows and returned his grin. “Is that a complaint?”
“No, ma’am. Uh-uh. Not even a little.” He picked up his Sherpa lined coat and held it up for her to slip into as she eased off the sheet of plywood. Thankful for no splinters in her ass, she slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled the coat together. It was so big it hit her about mid-thigh, but her bare legs definitely felt the chill. She turned to find him looking at her intensely.
“What?”
“You are the sexiest woman I have ever seen.” He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and drew her in for a meaningful kiss.
“And knowing that all you have on under that coat is a black lace bra?” He exhaled a breath. “Yeah. We’ll definitely be doing that again.”
“Will you think of me the next time you put on the coat?”
“I can promise you I won’t even be able to think the next time I wear it. I’ll only be picturing you zipped up inside of it wearing those hot damn boots with that fuck-me-again look in your eye.”
Earlier tonight Gabi had felt like the proverbial outsider while she dodged Parker’s glares. Though she’d never given it much—or any—thought before, hot sex was definitely a great icebreaker.
“So . . . back to you.” Gently she touched his face. “I offered to help. Tell me more about what you need.”
He settled his hands on her hips and pulled her tight against him. “Dangerous request.”
“Hey. I’m the one who just said I wanted to do that again.” She leaned in and kissed him, liking that she felt comfortable enough to do so. “So if you’re ready . . .”
“For you? Always.”
“Parker Kincade, you do know how to say just the right thing to a lady.” She wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss, which became increasingly hot before she leaned her head back. “But let’s focus on your other needs for right now. There’s plenty of moonlight left for the rest.”
“It’s raining pretty hard.” He tipped his head toward the door. “We might have to stay locked in.”
“Do you have a construction crew showing up in the morning?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Then let’s figure out the rest. And maybe we could continue this . . . discussion, back at either your place or mine where it’s warmer?”
His head tilted and the lantern light gleamed on his dark hair. “Is that even a question?”
“I’m trying not to be greedy.”
“By all means. Please be greedy.” He drew his finger down the side of her face then caught his fingertip on her bottom lip. “But we go to either your place or mine on one condition.”
“Uh-oh.” Please don’t say it’s only for one more night.
“We sneak back into the main house and steal some leftovers before we go. And once we get where we’re going . . . you stay put. No running this time.”
Whew. Heartbreak averted.
“Until you’re done with me?”
“Baby, I’m not going to be done with you any time soon.”
She liked the sound of that. “And you won’t disappear either?”
“As the old saying goes, not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Then you have a deal.”
Other than another amazing time exploring his body and what he could do with it to make hers sing like a freaking opera star, exactly what she was agreeing to was uncertain. She may be swimming in dangerous waters. But, if she was going to go down with Parker, oh what a lovely way to drown.
Chapter 11
Gabi pulled the restaurant supply catalog from his hands then rolled over in bed, propped herself up on her elbows, and scanned the products on the page.
“Can I look too?” Parker wanted to sigh with contentment as they lazed around in bed the morning after Thanksgiving. It might be Black Friday with shoppers everywhere in downtown Portland, but he’d chosen to give his food truck staff the day off. He just never imagined he’d be spending it in bed with Gabriella. “Or are you going to hog the magazine like you did the pumpkin cheesecake?”
She smirked. “I warned you I wouldn’t share.”
“I know.” He turned over and, lying beside her, mirrored her position. “But I had planned to spread it all over your body and lick it off slowly.”
“Really? Because there’s still a slice left.” Another sassy grin lit up her face. “I hid it in the vegetable drawer.”
“So you’re holding out on me.”
“I’m lying next to you naked. Does that seem like I’m holding out?”
Parker laughed, pushed the catalog out of her hands, rolled her over, and moved on top of her. He’d never shared playtime in bed with a woman before. He liked it.
He liked her.
And he hoped they could keep things just like this. Fun. Sexy. Casual. No strings sex with the benefit of each other’s company on occasion or whenever time allowed. He knew that came off as selfish. Even more reason to make sure she felt the same way, because he’d never want to be a user. And that conversation needed to happen. Soon. But at the moment a certain part of him was getting insistent about dabbling in a little more of the no strings sex part.
Kisses turned hot and Parker made good on the pumpkin cheesecake promise.
Afterward they showered together. Since he was in no hurry for her to leave and she didn’t seem in any hurry to pull another disappearing act, they ended up on his sofa. Outside the rain poured down. Inside he’d turned on the gas fireplace for ambience and buttoned up Gabriella in one of his flannel shirts. That she was naked beneath the soft material turned out to be very inspiring.
Settled cozily into a corner of the couch, she stretched out her shapely legs and propped her feet on his thighs while she continued to peruse the restaurant supply catalog. Parker sipped his steaming cup of whiskey-laced coffee and knew they needed to talk. To completely clear the air and make sure they were both on the same page. At the same time, they had such a good vibe going he didn’t want to kill it. And so those words just stayed put inside his selfish brain.
“Hmmm.” She tossed the catalog in his direction and he caught it with one hand. “I don’t like any of those.”
“How can you not like anything? There are hundreds of products to choose from. You can even mix and match tabletops and bases.”
“Everything looks too generic.”
“Most restaurant stuff is. Which is why they build thousands at a time. Which is why you can get such great prices.”
“I know.” She reached for her coffee mug, leaned back, and took a sip. “And that’s the problem. Do you really want Sunshine & Vine to be generic? Don’t you want it to be a reflection of your personality?”
“My personality?”
“What. You don’t think you have one?”
“Of course I do. It just tends to vary on a day-to-day basis.” Which translated to mildly aggravated, rationally frustrated, and wildly pissed off.
“That’s only because you’re under so much stress to get the restaurant done on time.” She sipped her coffee again. “But you really need to think about the overall experience. These days food is personal. It seems everyone’s a critic. Everyone likes things differently. And those who enjoy food as an experience—which is exactly the type of clientele anyone can hope for—are lucky enough to have chefs who like to explore the possibilities. Chefs who aren’t afraid to push the envelope on flavor. And that envelope is how you should see
the design of your restaurant.”
Parker blinked. She was preaching to the choir, but in his chaotic life, he’d forgotten the words to the sermon. Imagination and finding your essence were lessons he’d learned at Life’s Kitchen when he’d been that troubled teen hell-bent on self-destruction. Lately he’d just been so happy to make any kind of progress he’d lost focus on the end result.
“Look at The Tasty Spoon,” she said of his food truck. “Aside from the hunky guy who mans the kitchen, the exterior is part of what initially draws people to your food truck instead of the next one. It’s bright and it looks like fun. Which, to the layman’s eye, probably means your food will be fun. You managed to incorporate your logo in an inventive way that’s synonymous with your personality and the creative dishes you serve.”
“That was probably an unconscious doing on my part.” Talking like this with her was enlightening. Not only did she help him put things in perspective, she managed to bring back the initial excitement he’d had in the prospect of opening his first restaurant.
“And that’s fine. It worked.” She swung her feet off his thighs and curled up by his side. “But that doesn’t mean you should create the restaurant the same way. It doesn’t mean you have to live up to everyone else’s expectations either.”
“Okay, fairy godmother, you lost me.”
“Sorry. I can’t help but get excited.”
“I like it when you’re excited.”
“And I’d be happy to show you how truly excited I can get.” Playfully, she nudged him with her shoulder. “But can we stick to talking about your restaurant for a little while longer?”
“Should I set a timer?”
“No.” She laughed. “But you can tell me how you classify your style.”
“Jeans, T-shirts, shoes when necessary. Easygoing unless a certain sexy someone wants to talk business instead of tearing off my clothes. Then I might get a little crazy.”
“Save that crazy for later,” she said. “I can put it to good use.”
“And now you’re teasing me and you expect me to stay on task?”
“Yes please.”
“Evil woman.” He leaned in and nipped her shoulder. “I might be sorry I asked, but how do you see me?”
“Naked.”
He laughed. “You are such a tease.”
“Guilty.” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “You really want to know what I see in you?”
“If you say a shallow male who only thinks about sex I’ll cry . . . guilty.” He sighed. “But go ahead anyway.”
Her dark eyes glimmered. “I see a guy who has too many layers to define. On one hand you’re sexy casual with the jeans, the T-shirts, the longer hair, the perpetual five o’clock scruff. That Parker looks like he should be spending all his time kicked back on the beach with a Corona in one hand and a hot chick in the other. But last night at dinner, you looked more traditional. Sleek and classy. Like all you had to do was throw on a tux and you’d give George Clooney a run for his money. Like you could either be a jetsetter or someone in control of what everyone else does.”
“Wow. That’s a pretty deep look.”
“I can go further if you want.”
“You’re scaring me enough now as it is.” Not that he saw himself as either of those kinds of guys, and not that she really scared him, but he feared she may be one of those rare individuals who could look deep and really figure things out.
Yeah. That was scary as hell.
“I only want to help,” she said, and he knew she meant it.
“Okay, then go ahead. Just kick those closet skeletons out of the way first.”
“I’m not digging that deep. We’ll keep the conversation in reference to the restaurant. For now.”
“Oh good. Because I was about to go make this Irish coffee a double shot.”
“Silly boy. Shall we continue?”
“Fire away.”
“Have you come up with a final decision regarding your menu?”
“I’ve tried. But . . .” Yeah. He’d tried. But lately his mind had been going in too many directions to narrow it down. Not only was he physically exhausted, he was mentally cooked. He figured since the restaurant wouldn’t officially open until after the New Year, he’d have time to settle down and work it out. But it seemed the more time went on, the less he’d been able to shove one more thought inside his head.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Gabriella stroked her fingers down his arm. “If you want to discuss, maybe we should back up a little.”
He stretched his arm out on the sofa behind her and tucked her closer to his side. “No. Let’s keep moving forward. Maybe I can clear some things up.”
“Okay.” She chuckled. “So I know you’re using the natural wood in the barn and you’ve created a spectacular focal point with that brick wall on the back, but what are your design plans for the interior?”
“I just figured I’d go with a clean, casual look, minimal wall deco. Maybe a few plants to play off the rustic wood.” He shrugged. “Nothing fancy.”
“But casual won’t really play to your desired clientele. Casual won’t make your restaurant become a destination for diners when all the other restaurants in Sunshine are laidback.”
“You’re right.” With less than three weeks until Jordan’s wedding and under two months to open the restaurant for business, Parker knew he had to get his shit together. Not only did he have to decide what he wanted, he had to order it and make sure it was delivered and installed on time.
“Since the exterior of your restaurant is an old barn, diners are probably going to expect informal dining. Fool them.”
“How do I do that?”
“Why did you choose the name Sunshine & Vine?”
“Because it’s in Sunshine and in a vineyard.”
“I get that. But don’t you think someone might associate it with the famous intersection of Hollywood and Vine?”
“Never even entered my mind.”
“Well it should. Old Hollywood was glamorous. It had just the right amount of sparkle and shine. Glitz and glamor. The exterior of your restaurant is a beautiful old barn, so provide the ultimate surprise with the interior. Beneath those rustic exposed wood beams, give your clientele a touch of Hollywood sparkle and mix it up with country chic. Give them the elegance of white linen tablecloths with black cloth napkins and glittery chandeliers. Then bring in a bit of country with a touch of corrugated metal—maybe on the front of your hostess station or even on a section of wall—and add in fresh wildflowers or herbs in a stylish vase for each table. Make it unique and completely your own style of sexy casual.”
He thought about it for a moment, and he realized that all along he’d been imagining a country chic thing without the clichéd angle. But he could see how adding a bit of simple elegance to the touch of country would pair perfectly together. Like fine wine and an artisan focaccia.
“You’re a genius.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
“Will you please tell my potential boss that for me? I’m planning on asking for a big salary.”
Her laughter lit him up on the inside.
“I can give you big. Right now.”
She giggled as he pulled her beneath him and slipped his hands beneath the red flannel shirt.
A soft sigh whispered past her lips as he touched her in all his—and her—favorite places. And though his mind was close to letting the sensations in his body take over, he did have one more thought.
“Are we good with this?” he asked.
“This?”
“Keeping things casual. Fun. No strings. I know initially we agreed to one night but, obviously, we obliterated that deal. And”—he dropped a kiss to her lips—“I really like you.”
Her slight hesitation cooled the rush of blood pumping through his veins.
“Sure.” She looked him in the eye and gently pushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. “We can keep this casual.”
&nb
sp; Relief eased the pressure in his chest. “I’m glad.”
She arched her pelvis into his erection. “I can tell.”
He laughed, and then proceeded to show her exactly how much he liked her.
Later as he held her in his arms while they both began to doze off, realization hit him like a baseball bat in full swing. Trying to remain casual with this woman was going to be a lot more difficult than choosing restaurant furnishings or planning a menu.
Chapter 12
Late Friday afternoon Parker drove Gabi back to her car, which had remained parked near the main house at the vineyard. Not that she’d been all that eager to leave his cozy houseboat or his warm embrace, but there were two solid reasons she needed to go. One, she had to feed Basil. If he didn’t get his pellets before a certain time he got really cranky and flashed his tail at her like a matador’s red cape. And two, Parker wanted to keep this, whatever it was between them, casual.
She’d told him they would, even though she already knew she probably couldn’t. She’d already switched trains on that track. Especially after the night and day they’d shared.
Parker was an affectionate man who didn’t think twice about losing his man card because he liked to snuggle. He made love with a selfless passion that rang every bell in her system—more than once each time. He made her laugh. He made amazing eggs benedict. And he gave her something that had been completely unexpected.
He made her feel necessary.
With the exception of her nonni, no one in her life—no man especially—had ever made her feel needed, or for that matter, wanted. From her father all the way to her recent employer, not one had made her feel as though she ever had anything relevant to say or any purpose to exist.
Feeling wanted was a new concept.
And she liked it.
For a change, something other than the need to prove herself existed. So when Parker had shown up unexpectedly at her apartment door on Friday evening with a bowl of steaming hot penne pasta made with parmesan and zucchini, she eagerly invited him in.
Late into the night as they lay in her bed in each other’s arms with the covers pulled up around them, Gabi had never been happier. Yet something still bothered her. And even though they’d agreed to keep things casual, she cared about him. Seeing him pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion every day worried her.