by Brux, Boone
“Anna?” Leo asked, shifting so that we were facing each other. “I’m really having fun hanging out with Bowen.”
I stopped picturing him with his shirt off and smiled. “Cooking with a kid isn’t cramping your style?”
His eyebrows rose. “Not at all. I like Bo. He makes me slow down and breathe. He helps me see the small details I tend to overlook.”
Nodding, I said, “I know. That’s my favorite thing about Bowen. I wish more people could see that in him.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, the sound of the clock ticking in the next room the only sound I could hear. There was so much I wanted to say. Was this real? Was it a fleeting attraction between the two of us? Did it even matter? I loved the way Leo’s arms felt around me. I loved the way he looked at me and saw inside of my head. I loved…
I swallowed. I loved too easily, that’s what. But it did feel marvelous when Leo touched me, and for now that was enough.
Leo scooted closer, and his body pressed against mine. “I’m having a hard time not kissing you, Anna.”
My body naturally arched toward him, bringing our chests flush against each other. The all too familiar, and ever so welcome, buzz returned to my head.
“Then don’t.”
That was all the permission he needed. He rolled me so that he was above me on the couch. We kissed like two hormone-crazed teenagers, the silver chain leading from his belt loop to his wallet pressing into my side, and sending a thrilling chill across my stomach. His hands moved frantically, tugging and pulling at the hem of my shirt, while I gripped Leo like I was drowning in the ocean, and he was the life raft. Maybe I was drowning. Desire flowed through my veins like an overfilled river just seconds before it morphs into a flash flood.
Leo moved his mouth down my jawline and into my hair, where he drew in a long, jagged breath before leaving a hot trail down my neck to my collarbone. With one smooth movement, my shirt came up and over my head, fluttering to the floor soundlessly. When his hands touched me softly, almost reverently, I released a shuddering sigh and gripped his now tousled hair in my fists.
I wanted him. I wanted him so bad I might have set the couch on fire.
I slid my hands down the length of Leo’s body, and began fumbling with the button fly on his tattered jeans, warranting a groan from deep within his chest.
“No.”
My eyes popped open. “I…what?”
“No.” This time Leo’s voice was firm. He grasped my wrist and moved it away from his waist.
I looked down. Had I worn one of my grubby bras? Nope. Black with white polka dots. Thank goodness. “What’s wrong?” I said, my eyes still crossed and my lips still swollen.
“This isn’t right.” He sat up and ran a shaky hand through his hair, causing it to fall across his forehead.
“Excuse me?” I scrambled to sit up and reach for my T-shirt.
Leo picked up the crumpled cotton and handed it to me. “I should go.”
“You should…wait, you’re leaving?” Humiliation seared my cheeks, and I pulled my shirt back on with jerky movements. Where had it gone wrong? Because it felt pretty damn right to me!
Leo stood up. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
“You’re sorry?” I croaked, following him to the front door. “I have no idea what just happened.”
Leo opened the door, letting the crisp fall air into the house, but wheeled around on his heel just before he stepped out. I drew in a sharp breath when his hands ensconced my face, and he ran a thumb across my still-throbbing lips.
“You deserve better than this,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t want a one-nighter with you.”
Though just thirty seconds before, I’d have been willing to throw all of my standards out the window for a few minutes of bliss with Leo on the couch. My eyes filled with tears. I meant more to him than just a roll in the hay. He wanted more with me than something casual.
When he noticed my damp eyes, Leo shook his head and brushed his knuckles across my cheekbone. “Don’t be upset. I don’t mean to reject you. You just deserve more respect than this.”
“I…okay.” My voice cracked.
Leo laced the fingers of both of his hands with mine and brought me flush against his body. “Anna, I want to do this right. Let me take you to dinner. Or for a ride on my bike. Let’s take our time.”
My mouth stretched into a grin. “Sounds fantastic.”
“It’s a date, then. I’ll call you.” He brought his mouth to mine and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against my lips, before turning and disappearing into the windy night.
Chapter Nine
I watched Gianna from across the room, and stifled the strange need I had to squeal like an adolescent girl. I made out with your brother!
I’d spent the last two nights tossing and turning, due to the abrupt way Leo had left my house. But not out of resentment. No, I’d tossed and turned because of the way my heart felt when I’d heard the roar of Leo’s motorcycle fading in the distance. It’d swollen painfully against the sides of my ribcage, leaving me breathless and dizzy.
Leo wanted our time together to be slow, tender, and meaningful. What more could a woman ask for? He liked me. He liked my son. And he wanted to treat me with the utmost respect. I wriggled around in my chair again. It was almost impossible to hold still.
“So I heard that my brother is dating again,” Gianna said as she and Bowen played with a giant bucket of dried beans, interrupting my one-woman-party in the corner of the room.
My stomach flipped and sweat stung under my arms. Did she really know? Had Leo opened up to his kid sister about us? I pressed my lips together and willed my stomach to relax before I grinned at Gianna.
“Oh, really?” My voice came out high pitched and squeaky.
She tossed her dark curls. “Yup. He’s apparently going out with her again tonight, too.”
I drew in a breath. Did Leo have a date planned for us tonight? Was he going to surprise me again? I suppressed a thrilled squeal. “You don’t say.”
“Yeah. Apparently some fancy mandarin restaurant downtown. I’ve never been there. Too rich for my blood.” She handed my son a cracker. “I’ll stick with crackers and fruit snacks with my best buddy, Bowen, here.”
Beaming at the two of them, I wondered what restaurant Leo was going to take us to. He’d told me about several places in the northern Idaho/eastern Washington state area that he’d stumbled upon and wanted to share with me. Then, as Gianna encouraged Bowen to put his bare feet into the bucket of beans—a suggestion he vehemently resisted—I started to plan my outfit. I would wear the beige lace skirt that went exquisitely with my cream angora sweater. Every time I wore that ensemble people complimented me on my hair, my complexion, my figure. That was an easy choice.
But, wait. Was this one of those messy joints that made wearing a cream-colored sweater impossible? The last thing I needed was to spill ginger sauce down my chest in front of Leo. “So what’s this mandarin place like? Have you ever seen a menu?”
Gianna looked at me strangely. “I’m not sure. Why?”
Blushing, I pretended to pick lint off my shirt. “Oh, no reason.”
At what point did I tell Gianna that I was dating her brother? Was that breaking some sort of code between the occupational therapist and her client’s mother? I hoped not. I loved Gianna as much as Bowen did, and that was saying something.
“Maybe if you go to the restaurant tonight, you can scope out Leo’s date for me.” She giggled. “It’s hard to outgrow my need to be the annoying little sister. I still want to spy on my brother’s dates.”
Bowen’s feet finally made contact with the beans and both Gianna and I dissolved into cheers. She held out her hand to him to help him step back out of the box, and I stood up out of my chair and retrieved Bo’s coat, a bounce in my step as I crossed Gianna’s office. I was going on a date tonight. There was a time, just a few short weeks ago, when the most thrilling part of
my Thursday was curling up in my bed with a cup of hot tea and a good book to read. Now I was planning outfits for my “surprise” date with Leo, and trying not to grin like a maniac.
“Here you go, buddy.” I held out the jacket and Bowen slid into it while Gianna picked up stray beans. “We’ll see you next week, Gianna.”
She looked up and smiled warmly. “Sounds good. Bye, Bowen.” Bowen offered her a robotic wave, and we headed for the door. “Oh, and be sure to tell me what you think of Leo’s date tonight.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks before tucking a lock of my brown bob behind my ear, and glancing over my shoulder. “Will do.”
“I mean, it never occurred to me that he was into blondes!” She shook her head and dropped the bean into the nearby trashcan. “He’s always been a brunette man. Oh well, I guess I’ll never figure my brother out.”
I stopped, my hand frozen in midair above the door handle. What did she just say?
“You must think I’m such a pesky kid sister.” Gianna picked up her clipboard and approached us. “But Leo’s been traveling the world for so long, I can’t help it. After what happened with his last girlfriend, I feel so protective of him.”
I opened and shut my mouth about three times before mumbling, “B-blonde?”
Gianna rolled her dark eyes. “Ugh. Yes. And Gretchen, of all people? Her frosty exterior isn’t just because she manages the nicest restaurant in town. She seems so aloof all the time.”
My stomach hardened, then dropped down into my feet like it was covered in lead. Leo was going on a date with Gretchen the restaurant manager? Tall, thin, perky-boobed Gretchen with the long blond hair? Suddenly my skin felt too tight for my body and the air in the room was stifling. Leo didn’t want to date me. He wanted to date cool, modelesque Gretchen, who came with no baggage. Of course he did.
“You all right?” Gianna asked, opening the door for us and tilting her head at me. “Are you getting Bowen’s flu?”
I closed my eyes. He didn’t want a woman with a kid, let alone a kid like Bowen, who required twice the patience, and twice the effort. Leo only wanted to stay here in Coeur d’Alene for as long as it took to pay his sister back, and then after that he would undoubtedly hit the open road. Move on to bigger cities, more opportunities, and maybe even get his own restaurant and cookbook like he’d talked about.
“Yes.” I nodded, pressing a hand to my stomach to prove my fake nausea. “The flu.”
“You poor thing.” Gianna rubbed my arm, then ruffled Bowen’s hair. “Bowen, take your mom home and take good care of her. Okay?”
Bowen looked up at me with a frown. “All right.”
We followed Gianna into the hallway, where she waved sympathetically. “Get lots of rest, Anna. Call me if I can do anything for you.”
Shaking my head, I led Bowen toward the waiting room. Gianna couldn’t do anything for me, except convince her brother to love me back, but even then I wouldn’t want him. If Leo didn’t feel something for me, I wasn’t about to force him.
I just wish I’d caught on before falling for him.
Chapter Ten
Around eight o’clock the following night, the phone started to rang. But I didn’t answer. I knew that Leo was worried because we didn’t show up for Bowen’s cooking lesson, nor had we called. But I didn’t care.
I tossed my latest book aside, pulled my pillow over my head, and fought the urge to cry. My job was to be a mother to Bowen, and not to be some hot chef’s girlfriend. So what if he ignited a fire in my belly that was the equivalent of gasoline and a flamethrower? So what if I’d actually started envisioning my life with a companion in it? So what if he was the third person in the world who could make Bowen smile? I was meant to be alone.
When the phone rang again, the tears I’d willed to dry up spilled over, soaking the thick flannel pillowcase. I wouldn’t answer Leo’s call. And I wouldn’t go to Bowen’s cooking lesson tomorrow. I didn’t want to get sucked back into Leo’s world. When I was around him, it filled me with false hope, and false hope was not what I wanted right now. Not after that whole bit he’d given me about taking things slow. Give me a break.
I was okay alone. Hell, I wasn’t really alone. I had Bowen, and that was all I needed.
Or…that was all I should have needed.
My phone trilled again, and I sunk lower in my quilts. I would survive this. It was just the loss of another man. I’d lived through watching one walk out of my life before, and I would live through it again. I sniffled, and wiped my eyes on the sheet.
So what if Leo still held my heart?
Chapter Eleven
The following Monday was Halloween, and the day I finally caved.
Leo had left a message on our voice mail about needing Bowen’s help to make caramel corn, his mother’s recipe. After watching my son melt down because he missed his cooking classes—and Leo—I’d decided that it was time for me to get over myself. Sure, Leo wanted another woman. That much was evidenced by the fact that he’d not explained himself on my voicemail. But that didn’t mean Bowen needed to suffer.
And so…there I was, being pulled across the restaurant by my son, who was still sporting his Halloween costume from his class party that ended a half hour earlier. Which was, appropriately, a chef hat and coat.
“Come on,” Bowen begged, tugging me around a table.
My stomach clenched and I paused for just a half a second. I hadn’t laid eyes on Leo since the night he kissed me on my front porch, then disappeared into the night. It was clear in his messages that he was starting to get frustrated. He didn’t understand why I hadn’t brought Bo to his cooking lessons, and I’d been too chicken to pick up the phone and tell him that it was because he was dating Gretchen, and that I was so jealous I wanted to scream. I didn’t know what to expect when we locked eyes across the kitchen, but I knew it was time to be mature, and face Leo head on.
“Mom?”
I looked down at Bowen’s crystal-blue eyes and forced a smile. “Don’t be shy,” he whispered.
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. Let’s go make some caramel corn.”
“You decided to come back?”
Gretchen’s voice rang from across the dining room, and I bristled. There came Leo’s current gal pal sauntering toward us, her scoop-neck blouse flaunting an enticing taste of her cream-colored skin. I’d gone from working at the dental office to Bowen’s class Halloween party, and so I was sporting one of the blandest shirts I owned with a nifty streak of bright orange paint across the stomach. Gretchen looked so gorgeous, I wanted to throw up in a nearby plant.
“Hello. How are you?” I managed to say stiffly.
She smiled down at Bowen. “Happy Halloween, kiddo.”
“My name is Bowen.” He shifted between his feet, and stared at a spot near her elbow.
Gretchen’s smile faded. “Right.”
“Sorry. He’s sort of uptight around new people.” I squeezed Bowen’s small hand. “Come on, Bo. Say hi to Gretchen. She runs this whole restaurant. Isn’t that cool?” When I said her name, my stomach roiled. This woman was my competition. No wait—not my competition. Leo had upgraded to this woman. Ouch.
“Hi.” Bowen’s voice came out flat, uninterested. Again he tugged on my arm. “Mom, we’re late.”
“I know, buddy.” I drew a deep breath, and moved toward the kitchen door. “Nice to see you, Gretchen.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go in there.” She put out her arm so that it blocked our path.
I stopped, barely missing her arm across my face. “Why? Is Chef Mancini not in today?”
She smiled coolly. “He’s swamped.”
Bowen’s shoulders slumped, and though I hated to admit it, there was a twang of disappointment in my gut, too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check my messages this afternoon. I didn’t know that Chef canceled it.”
“He didn’t.” Gretchen folded her arms across her chest. “I did. And you don’t need to address him so formally, Anna. Leo tol
d me all about the little thing you two had going.”
All right, this was officially uncomfortable. I shifted between my feet self-consciously. “I…um…okay. Listen, I’ll just get going. Come on, Bo.”
“No.” Bowen tried to wriggle his hand out of mine. “Leo called. He said we’re making caramel corn. Let’s go.”
Gretchen offered Bowen a sympathetic cluck. “I’m sorry, pal. Leo is too busy to cook with you today. But I spoke with our sous chef, Adam, and he is looking forward to working with you next week. He wants to make some beef barley soup. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Bowen’s eyes met hers. “Not Leo?”
“Nope.” She tucked a lock of her perfectly highlighted hair behind her ear and faced me. “Have a great Halloween, guys.”
My jaw was starting to ache from clenching my teeth together. “Leo isn’t going to work with Bowen anymore? Why not?”
“This is a busy restaurant. The best in town.” She gestured around us. “Leo’s desserts are our most ordered item. I can’t afford to have my pastry chef giving lessons on how to put peanut butter on a stalk of celery all afternoon.”
I shook my head. “They didn’t put peanut butter on a stalk of celery. Bowen made macaroons, crème brûlée, a mousse—”
“Nonetheless.” Gretchen cut off my words with a wave of her hand. “Your personal attachment to him is no longer appropriate. I think my sous chef is better suited for Brandon’s needs.”
I frowned at her. “Bowen. His name is Bowen.”
“Why can’t I cook with Leo anymore?” Bo asked me, looking up at me with a frown.
Gretchen rolled her eyes.
My heart started to beat fast as anger rose in my chest, and I took a step closer to her, so that Bowen couldn’t hear what I was saying. “Listen, I don’t know what attachment you’re referring to, but there’s no need to punish my son because you’re frustrated with me.”