by Brux, Boone
He smiled, his full lips stretching across his white teeth. “Good nose. Try this one.”
“Mmm, is that lemon?” I asked, my heart somersaulting.
“Key lime.” His hand dropped, but his body remained close to mine. “You, um…”
When he paused, his eyes locked on my mouth, making my head swim. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Bowen pick up a second cookie and start nibbling. Leo’s stare was heavy, and I could feel myself softening underneath its gaze like butter on a griddle. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing a sleeve of colorful images that wove together like a tapestry.
Leo brushed a finger across the corner of my mouth, making my stomach hurtle. “You’ve got some cookie right there.”
“Hell.” I wiped it away and skirted back around to the other side of the table. He had no interest in me. He was probably dating a tall, tattooed model that posed on the hood of hot rod cars for a living. In fact, she was probably waiting for him back in their shared brownstone apartment in…in…where was he from?
“So you’re from Oregon?” I asked as Leo watched me with a heavy gaze.
“Actually, I’ve been living in Seattle the last few years.” Leo popped a bite of the blue-hued cookies into his mouth. “You know, I may use these for dinner service tonight. I’ll make a lavender vanilla ice cream to go with them.”
“Sounds good.” A few more afternoons in this kitchen, and I was going to have to buy bigger jeans.
Bowen looked at me longingly. “I want to make ice cream.”
Laughing, I pointed at Leo. “Well, tell Leo. He’s the chef.”
Bo’s head spun in Leo’s direction. “I want to make ice cream.”
When Leo grinned, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. He really did have a lovely smile. Every bit as charming as Gianna’s, but with a naughty edge.
“Sure thing, kid.” He wiped down the metal tabletop. “We can make some pumpkin ice cream this Friday. I’ll get a good one at the farmer’s market.”
Bowen didn’t even try to hide his smile, and my chest swelled. “I can’t wait to try it.”
Leo looked at me for a few seconds longer than necessary, then winked. “It’s a date.”
I had to grab the edge of the table to keep from tipping over. One glance at the clock told me that it was time for Bowen and I to leave. I could already smell the main dishes simmering at the far end of the massive kitchen, and hear orders being called out by the savory chef and his sous.
“Did you hear that, Bo?” I said overenthusiastically. “It’s a date.” When Leo raised an eyebrow at me, I quickly added, “I mean, er, you have a date to make pumpkin ice cream.”
Bowen turned toward me and blinked a few times.
Leo watched me shifting uncomfortably, and laughed. “Maybe you can help this time, Anna.”
“I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” I pretended to be busy picking at the nonexistent polish on my nails.
“You wouldn’t be in the way,” he replied, taking the dirty bowls and spoons to the sink. “I like it when you come out of the corner.”
“You do?” I cleared my throat. “Well, I should give you and Bo that time to cook.”
He moved closer to me, wiping his hands on a white towel. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like being in the kitchen with a pretty girl.”
There was something about the way he looked at me. The way the corner of his mouth tugged while he waited for me respond. I sort of felt like I’d sat in an office chair and spun myself until I was so dizzy that I couldn’t walk straight.
“You’re one of those guys, aren’t you?” I took a step backward. He practically exuded heat.
He leaned against the table just a few inches away from me, and I saw the bluebird on his neck. “What kind of guy?”
I fiddled with the zipper on Bowen’s coat. My eyes rolled from Leo to Bowen, who was now bouncing in place next to the exit.
“Hey, Bo? Why don’t you make a trip to the restroom, and we’ll leave as soon as you’re done?” When he pushed through the door, I shrugged at Leo. “He always announces that he has to go when we’re halfway home.”
Leo smiled knowingly. “I see.”
Bo pushed open the kitchen door, and I turned back to Leo. “So you said that you lived in Seattle?”
“Yup.”
“Is that where your restaurant was?”
A cloud passed over Leo’s face, and his expression immediately fell. “That’s where my restaurant was supposed to be.”
I waited for him to explain, but our corner of the kitchen fell silent. Scratching behind my ear, I squeaked, “But it didn’t work out?”
“No,” he growled, and moved away from me.
“What happened?”
Leo removed some cream from the walk in, snatched a bowl off the rack, and slammed them both on the tabletop. After that, he retrieved an oversize whisk from a nearby rack, and slammed that down as well. When he finally raised his eyes to meet mine, his brows were pinched together. “Why do you want to know so bad?”
Yikes. What happened to the handsome guy who’d been flirting with me for the past hour?
“I…I’m just curious. Your sister told me that you are an excellent chef, and that you’ve worked under some big names. She says you’re very talented and respected. So what brought you to Podunk, Idaho?”
“My sister is entirely too confident in me.” Leo’s voice dropped a few octaves, and the anger on his face was replaced with what appeared to be sadness. “She is unwaveringly loyal, even when she shouldn’t trust me anymore.”
I watched Leo for a few minutes. His movements as he poured the cream into the bowl and began whisking it were quick and succinct, making the muscles in his forearm flex as he worked. There was no denying the twist of attraction in my gut as he moved, but all of these mysteries around Leo were enough to give me a headache.
The limb I was going out on was weak, and I could feel it buckling. “Well, why wouldn’t Gianna trust you?”
The kitchen door swung open, and Bowen appeared before us. Leo looked at him for a few beats before catching my son’s eye and offering him a halfhearted smile. The temperature in the kitchen cooled, despite the running ovens and all of the flirting that’d taken place, and I knew right then that the moment was definitely over.
Finally Leo raised his chocolate brown eyes to mine. “See you on Friday, Anna.”
And like that, I was dismissed.
Chapter Six
I watched Gianna gently pushing Bowen back and forth as he lay face down in a netted swing at the therapy gym. His red sweatshirt poked through the holes, making Bo look like a boy-sized Christmas ham. I’d spent the past two weeks observing Leo during his cooking sessions with Bowen, and finally came to the conclusion that I was never going to understand why his moods could go from flirtatious and fun to cold and aggravated in the blink of an eye.
In the four afternoons we’d spent with him, Bowen had helped make cinnamon meringue, pumpkin extract, almond and espresso biscotti, and a hazelnut mousse that made my toes curl just remembering the taste. Bowen had even smiled while Leo showed him to open and then chop nuts carefully, not minding the mess and dust that coated his hands. He’d taken to asking me if it was a “Leo Day” when he got off the bus in the afternoons, and frankly, I’d begun to look forward to Leo Days, mood swings and all.
I’d never been attracted to the bad boy type before. My ex-husband was a car salesman who’d owned an extensive collection of polo shirts in every earth tone imaginable. And men post-divorce? Well, the few there had worked in jobs like accounting and quality assurance. There’d never been a bartender or a bodybuilder, and for heaven’s sake, there’d never been a motorcycle-riding chef, either. Of course not. Those choices would have been too dangerous to my and Bowen’s perfect little world. Men like that came with sharp edges that could pop the bubble I’d so carefully built around us.
Maybe it was time for me to take a risk? After all, Bowen was getting older, and hi
s dependence on me became smaller—albeit fractionally—every day. The fact that I may, one day, find myself alone weighed on my shoulders. He made me think that companionship wasn’t such a far-fetched need.
It wasn’t like our time with Leo was all cooking and scowling, though. Every time Bowen excused himself to wash his hands or use the restroom at the end of the lesson, that’s when Leo turned on the charm. Our interactions were getting more and more intimate, leaving my stomach tied into knots by the time we left the resort every afternoon. One day he’d used this thumb to swipe a stray piece of meringue off my lip, and I’d damn near passed out. When I moved past him by the stovetop to observe whatever Bowen was stirring or glazing, Leo’s hand would brush the small of my back and linger for a split second longer than necessary.
I should have stopped it. I should have been a responsible parent and made Leo focus on my son. But…I couldn’t. I didn’t know if it was because it’d been so long since I’d received male attention that didn’t come from my father or the benign dentist who worked in my office, or because there was a legitimate spark between Leo and me. I didn’t want to stop the flirting. Not only did it feel good, it felt sort of…right.
A little flirting was harmless, wasn’t it? Maybe I should ask Leo out. After all, he was flirting with me. Flirting with me, and it was just one date. It’s not like we were going to pick out a china pattern. One date. Just to get my feet back in the water. My mind was screaming at me to just do it.
“So how are the cooking classes going? Is my brother treating you okay?”
I startled, bringing my focus back to Gianna, who was sitting cross-legged on a mat beside the swing. “Fine” My voice came out loud and unnaturally shrill, so I took a breath to calm myself. Chill, Anna. Gianna doesn’t know that you keep picturing her brother shirtless. “I mean, fine. We, er, Bowen loves his time in the kitchen with Leo.”
Gianna looked at me with a sly smile teasing her lips. “My brother has a weird effect on women.”
I feigned shock. “What? No. Not me. I mean, he’s nice, and all, but you know. He’s Bowen’s teacher, so I don’t think about him that way.” I was talking too fast, and I knew it. I couldn’t stop myself; it was 100 percent pure verbal vomit.
“Oh, well, he asked about you.” She casually pushed Bo again, and I noticed that the corner of her mouth twitched the same way Leo’s always did.
“No, he didn’t.” I pretended to go back to my book in the corner of the room, but watched her through the corner of my eye. “Did he?”
Gianna’s shoulders rose and dropped. “Yeah. He said that you and Bowen are turning into his favorite part of the week.”
I beamed. “Well, we’re enjoying it, too. Aren’t we, buddy?”
Bowen looked up at me. “Cooking with Leo rules.”
“That’s good to hear.” Gianna laughed, tucking her dark curls behind her ear. “Leo’s been having a hard time acclimating to our Idaho town. He misses the big city a lot. I told him that he should ask you to show him around.”
I’m pretty sure my face turned about seven shades of red. “Oh, I’m sure he can find someone much cooler to hang around with. I’m not much for the nightlife. You’re younger than I am. Why haven’t you done it?”
Gianna smiled, but didn’t look at me. “I doubt he wants to hang around with his kid sister. I’m sure he’d want to spend the evening with a pretty woman instead.”
Was Gianna trying to set me up with her brother? I gripped my book tightly, trying not to show the excitement bubbling beneath my surface like a percolator. I’d been playing the part of the completely unsexual, devoted mother for so long, being attracted to someone felt like something I might get in trouble for.
“Your brother doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who struggles to find a pretty woman.” I moved closer to where she and Bowen were working.
She helped Bowen climb out of the swing, and handed him a vibrating toy ball that he immediately grimaced at. “He’s always been popular with girls. It’s finding the right girl that he seems to have a hard time with.”
I laughed softly. “Leo seems more like the ‘right now girl’ type.”
Gianna shook her head and her curls danced, making me wonder if Leo’s hair would curl that way if he didn’t slick it into its rockabilly style every day. “No,” she said. “Leo’s always been a one-woman-man, despite his chick-magnet exterior. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to pick one-man-women.”
I processed her words while she and Bowen played with a puzzle. For the past month, I’d been judging Leo completely wrong. Instead of a skirt-chasing player, he was a fan of monogamy? I never would have guessed it. The way he winked at the waitresses and the restaurant manager, Gretchen, when they crossed through the kitchen said otherwise. But he and I did have a pretty good friendship developing.
“So…what’s the deal with Leo? When I ask him about his restaurant in Seattle, he sort of…well…” I bit my lip. Maybe needling his sister for information was a tacky thing to do. Oh hell, I knew it was a tacky thing to do, but couldn’t help myself.
“Turns into a jerk?” Gianna raised an eyebrow in my direction.
“Well, yeah.” My cheeks heated. They were probably red now. Curse this Irish skin. “He tends to freak out a little bit when I ask him about it.”
She put the vibrating ball against the puzzle, so that Bowen could feel the pieces humming against his tensed fingers. “That’s because Leo lost everything but his motorcycle and the clothes on his back in that deal.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Bo, I want you to put all of these pieces into the puzzle while this ball shakes it. If you can do it without stopping, we’ll go grab a snack for you.” She gave my son the thumbs-up sign and turned to me. “Leo was going to open a couture dessert bar in the Loganwood Tower.”
“The Loganwood Tower?” My mouth dropped open. “That’s one of the nicest hotels in Seattle. I saw a feature on it in Better Homes and Gardens. They’ve had members of the royal family stay there.”
Gianna nodded proudly. “Yeah. It was a big deal. He invested every penny he had in the place. He also had some of our parents’ retirement fund, one of his former mentors invested, and I put up my savings.”
“You did?”
Nodding, she brushed her hair behind her ears. “I’d been saving for years to buy a house. I lived at home with my parents, so ninety percent of my paychecks went into savings. Leo didn’t want me to, but he was still coming up short. So I put in over eighty grand.”
Bowen finished the puzzle, rubbing his hands off on his jeans, and Gianna removed the vibrating ball. “Great job, kiddo. Now try it again without the wiggly ball.” She turned back to me. “Leo had a business partner named Kevin. It was a guy he’d met in culinary school who quit to pursue finance. Leo did most of the work getting the restaurant up on its feet. He picked out the wall colors, the tables, the chairs, the flatware, the kitchen equipment…everything. And Kevin managed the financial side of things. Or so Leo thought. About a month before Délicieux—that was going to be its name—opened, the whole deal fell apart, and he lost everything. It wasn’t until afterward that he discovered the worst part.”
“What could be worse than that?” I asked.
When she looked at me, I saw Gianna’s temper bubbling just below the surface. “Kevin was sleeping with Leo’s girlfriend. When Kevin took off, Macie moved out and joined him in California. They live together in L.A. now.”
My heart tugged. Poor, poor Leo.
“Leo sued Kevin, but only got part of the money back. Most of mine and my parents’ money was considered gifts, and the court judged in Kevin’s favor.” Gianna high-fived Bowen, stood up, then returned with a package of crackers for his snack. “My parents refuse to let Leo pay them back, but Leo is determined to make my money back. He wants to see me in my own house. He’s been beating himself up for months, which is why he came to Coeur d’Alene.”
“He feels guilty.” I said thi
s more to myself than to Gianna. No wonder Leo turned into a jerk when the subject of his own restaurant came up. He not only got screwed out of a boatload of money, but he’d also lost his girlfriend in the process. My heart thumped, and I rubbed at my chest absently. I had an undeniable urge to comfort him that baffled and annoyed me. I’d only known Leo for a few weeks, and now I was completely engrossed in the tattered remains of his personal life.
Chapter Seven
“Okay, Bowen, now drizzle the caramel over the tops of the beignets, just like this.” Leo watched as my son’s small hands expertly squeezed the white bag, making loops of the amber-colored liquid across the tops of the fried pastries. It was all I could do to keep from drooling as I gazed down at the plate of glorious French desserts.
Once the drizzles were complete, Bowen sat frozen, his sticky hands extended uncomfortably.
Leo laughed gently, the sound rolling over me like warm syrup. “It’s okay, buddy. Why don’t you go wash your hands now?”
My son nodded firmly and headed straight for the kitchen door.
“Typical Bo,” I mused, watching him. “Once the cooking’s done, it’s right back to his normal neuroticisms.”
“Oh, he’s not so bad.” Leo turned the plate around and held it up to look at the banana beignets with caramel drizzle. “Look what he created today. I’d call that a success.”
I watched Bowen push through the door and disappear. “He doesn’t look pale to you?”
Leo shook his head and chuckled. “I think you’re a good mom. A bit overprotective, but good nonetheless.”
“I’m not overprotective.” I frowned. “Okay, so maybe I am. Aren’t you protective of anything? Your sister? Your recipe book?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and reached for a beignet.
Leo’s brown eyes danced. “Not my recipes. They’re all in here.” He tapped his temple. “But my sister? Yes. I’m very protective of her. She’s part of the reason I’m here in Idaho. So I can keep an eye on her.”