One Taste

by Cari Quinn

  He’d said they weren’t over, but he hadn’t contacted her. She knew that for sure, as she’d checked her phone ten times every hour. Which meant she’d have to contact him because the feelings churning inside her weren’t going away.

  So he didn’t handle family gatherings well. Why would he? His situation hadn’t exactly given him lots of practice. So he hadn’t told her about the Comtek party. From all appearances, he’d been trying to help out a friend. Not that that was a valid excuse for withholding information, but she didn’t think it was a deal-breaker.

  She rubbed her tired eyes. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep this week. How quickly she’d gotten used to not spending her nights alone.

  God, she missed him. His smile, his warmth, his smell. Even the way he tossed pencils at her when he disagreed with one of her story ideas.

  The book was another thing. Another loss. This past week without writing had been endless. She needed that outlet, enough that she’d jumped off the ledge and signed up for two classes starting in January. Her temporary hobby had become an obsession. One day, it might just become a career.

  The career. The man. Now that she’d found them both, she wasn’t losing either one without one hell of a fight.

  She forced herself to get out of the car. First things first. She had to find a sexy dress. Then she had to find a way to get back the man she loved.

  Vincent knocked on his grandmother’s door, steeling himself for whatever waited on the other side. Some state of undress involving Alistair. More members of his soon-to-be ginormous family. Anything.

  Instead, Lucille answered wearing a blue velour pantsuit covered in flour. “Vincent.” Her smile was instantaneous.

  “Hi.” He hugged her long and hard, breathing in the smell—love and baked goods—that had been constant since his childhood. “Bad time?”

  “Is that code speak for is Alistair here?” She laughed and waved him in. “No. He’s at home making bells.”

  “What?” He took his preferred spot on the reassuringly worn paisley sofa.

  “Paper bells for the reception,” she explained, sitting down next to him. “We rented out the VA hall.”

  Vincent thought of Kiki’s family’s shindigs and took a bolstering breath. He glanced at his watch. In less than four hours, he’d get to experience one firsthand.

  How he adored the holiday season.

  “Honey, I know you’re still adjusting.”

  “Yeah. Probably will be for a while.” He picked up her hand, the one weighed down with her engagement ring. “But you’re happy. Right?”

  “Very.” The smile she gave him loosened most of the tension knots in his gut. “But you’re not. What happened with Kiki?”

  His lips curved in spite of himself. Quite a talent she had at sounding both understanding and reproachful. “I screwed up. But don’t worry, I’m fixing it. I hope.”

  “Fixing it by sitting here with me?”

  “No. I have a plan.” His fingers itched with the need to burrow into his hair, but he’d begun trying to break himself of that habit after Kiki had alerted him to it. His smile deepened. Damn romance writers always picking up on others’ emotional tells. “I’m finally moving into the house on Willow.”

  “Really?” She rubbed his knee. “You and Brent have done a beautiful job there. But it’s so big.”

  “No kidding.” He got to his feet. He’d thought he could sit and have a mature discussion, but nope, looked as if he needed to pace. Besides, the object in his back pocket made it pretty hard to sit. “So I, uh, thought I’d ask someone to share it with me.”

  “Oh, Vincent.”

  “Don’t cry.” He pointed a finger at her as she pulled out a tissue. “Seriously. Not into the whole crying thing. Mostly, it pisses me off.”

  She continued to sniffle and dab. And smile. “My big softie. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Be happy for me after she accepts. There’s one more thing. Relates to that big softie stuff you just mentioned.” He pulled out the book he’d crammed into his pocket and tossed it next to her on the couch.

  She touched the cover with a baffled smile. “Sweetheart, I already have this one. One of my favorites.”

  He stopped pacing and faced her, his hands loose at his sides. “I wrote it. I’m Vicenza Bishop.”

  She started to laugh, but when he didn’t alter his position, her expression changed to disbelief. “How can that be? You won’t even watch Lifetime movies with me.”

  “And that isn’t going to change.” He released a brief laugh. “Look, it’s a long story, but it started with Pop’s death and ended with Kiki helping me write my latest book. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, once the mortification dies down some.” He crouched and closed his hands around hers, still clasping his book. “I did it for you, but somewhere along the way, it ended up being for me, too. And someone called me out for hiding it from you.”

  Lucille’s lips turned up in a watery smile. “That someone’s pretty smart. You’re lucky to have her.”

  “Don’t have her yet, but I will.” He rose and grinned, though he wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded. Lots of room to fail tonight, but he was practicing his damn-the-torpedoes routine. “Speaking of which, I’d better be going. I’ve got two parties to go to.”

  “Two?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m proud of you, Vincent.” She shook his book as a knowing gleam filled her lively blue eyes. “Enjoy the after party, honey.”

  “I will.” He laughed on his way to the door. “Believe me.”

  Dressed in her appropriately sinful dress, Kiki went to her parents’ party first. Not only would it be a venial sin to skip the annual holiday fête, they always handed out her birthday present at the party.

  She’d never lost her enthusiasm for gifts and decorations and Christmas trees. Even if she hadn’t sprung for one herself this year, at least she’d done her house up right.

  It was a start. Six days from now she’d turn twenty-eight. Her life hadn’t become a rainbow yet, but she was working on making it one she couldn’t wait to live.

  “Do you like them, Katherine?”

  “Adore them is closer to it.” After she put on her gift of ruby stud earrings, she grinned and hugged her father. “They match my dress.”

  “Dress?” He shook his head in mock disapproval. She knew that despite whatever he said, he thought she looked beautiful. He’d said so earlier. “You’re practically naked.”

  “I know.” With a gleeful laugh, she gave him one more squeeze, waving at her sisters over his shoulder. They were in a clump with their husbands, laughing and talking. “Listen, I’ve got this thing to go to. But I’ll be back if I can swing it because we need to talk. I think I’ve found my career.”

  “Oh really?” Her father furrowed his brow. “And what thing?”

  “The thing where I have someone I need to show this dress to.” Hopefully, that same someone would peel the dress off her in record time, but she didn’t say that to her father.

  “What someone?”

  “His name’s Vincent. You’ll meet him. Eventually.” She bit her lip. “Maybe.”

  Her father frowned. “Vincent? The man who got shot the night the gas station was robbed?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Are you two involved?”

  “Oh, yeah, we’re involved.” She gave him one last hug, murmuring, “I’ll explain it all later, I promise. Gotta go.”

  She didn’t give him time to question her further. She was a woman on a mission.

  But twenty minutes later, her mission came to a screeching halt. “What do you mean he’s gone?” she asked Lynsay, glancing at her watch. “It’s only nine-thirty.”

  “He came, he drank spiked punch, he left. At least I’m pretty sure he took off.” Lynsay shrugged and twirled her finger through her mixed drink. “Stacie’s cuddled up with Jag somewhere, so I think he split as soon as his duty was done.”

  “Where
did he go?”

  “How should I know? He looked pretty preoccupied, Ki.”

  Kiki’s phone launched into Pink’s latest hit and she snatched it, depressing the Talk button without looking at the Caller ID. “Vincent?”

  Feminine laughter wafted into her ear. Jessie, her youngest sister. “Oh, sis, you’ve been holding out on us.”

  “Hi, Jessie.” Disappointment surged through her as she scanned the dancing couples in the Wilshire ballroom. No sign of Vincent anywhere. Dammit.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you had a gorgeous writer on a string?”

  Kiki almost didn’t hear her sister. “Huh?”

  “Your man was looking for you before he took off. He’s a cutie-patootie, if you ask me.”

  That got her attention. “Vincent was there?”

  “Up until two minutes ago. Just had a little meet and greet with the ’rents—who acted as if he were their long-lost son, since apparently he took a bullet for you—thanks for not telling me, sis—then he finished it off by telling Nico he was in love with you.”

  Kiki grabbed the back of a chair. Whoa. Too much information. That was Jessie, always relaying gossip at the speed of light. “Why is Nico there?”

  “To apologize to you, I guess. That’s what I overheard him telling Vincent. I stayed close in case things got ugly.” She squealed, sounding more like a teenager than a woman about to have her third child. “God, it was amazing, Kiki. You missed it! He almost knocked Nico flat on his ass.”

  “I can’t breathe.”

  “Hang up,” Lynsay advised when Kiki lowered her head to her hand. “She’ll call you back, Jessie!” she shouted, clicking the phone off for Kiki. “What happened?” she demanded. “Spill.”

  “He told Nico he was in love with me. He’s at my parents’ party. He—”

  “Brent!” Lynsay snapped her fingers, interrupting Brent’s conversation with another muscle-bound type. “Get a paper bag! Kiki’s gonna faint.”

  “Where am I supposed to find a paper bag?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” Kiki laughed. “It’s just too much.”

  “Vincent really told your ex he was in love with you? In public?”

  “Yeah.” She took a hit from the glass of fizzy liquid Brent handed her. Thankfully, it was alcoholic. “He must be really jealous. If you hadn’t told him Nico had called me, none of this would have happened. So thanks.”

  Lynsay’s brows drew together. “I didn’t tell him anything.”

  “Then who did?” Both Kiki and Lynsay’s heads swiveled toward Brent, who whistled innocently.

  “Maybe I planted a well-aimed bug in his ear. And maybe he reacted just as I suspected.” Brent shrugged, grinning. “You spend enough years around a guy, you know what buttons to push. Though public declarations are more than even I expected.”

  Lynsay popped to her feet to give him a smacking kiss. “Who says jocks are dumb?”

  “It’s all an act, baby.”

  While her friends launched into a kiss-and-grope session, Kiki swilled another mouthful of her drink and got to her feet. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going, but she knew she needed to get there fast. “Thanks, you two.”

  “Let us know how it turns out,” Lynsay called as Kiki raced out of the room.

  She checked all the logical spots. Vincent’s apartment, Lucille’s place. The reception she received from his grandmother warmed her through and through, but the fact remained.

  Her man had gone missing.

  In desperation, she even tried Comtek. Not there. She finally circled back around to Vincent’s again. Nothing. She called his cell, but he didn’t answer.

  What the hell?

  Just before midnight, she arrived home for a quick pit stop before heading back out again. She’d find him eventually.

  She’d taken out her key to jam it in the door lock when a flicker of light behind the glass caught her eye. Her heart skipped. Shit. She’d left the door locked, hadn’t she?

  It didn’t matter. Someone was in her house.

  Fumbling in her miniscule purse, she found her phone, and dialed 911 with her thumb. But she couldn’t wait for the police. Molly was inside. No way was she leaving her cat alone with some maniac.

  She wrapped her fingers around the knob and slowly pushed the door open. While she crept inside, her eyes adjusting to the multi-colored lights flashing in the darkness, she whispered the situation to the 911 operator.

  Then she caught a whiff of pine—real pine, not that crap she’d sprayed out of a can—and gasped as the ceiling-sweeper tree dominating one corner of her living room came into view. It was huge and twinkling with enough bulbs to illuminate the night.

  The phone fell to the floor.

  “My God,” she murmured, beyond dazzled.

  “Miss? Miss?”

  Kiki’s headlong rush into the room halted at the voice coming from the phone. She swore and turned back to grab her cell then came up short as she saw Vincent lounging in her doorway.

  And heaven help her, he was wearing a tux.

  “Something for me to remember,” he said softly, his mouth tipping into a smile. He bent to pick up her phone. “Christmas lights make you forget even the prospect of bodily harm.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kiki’s breath rushed out on something between a sob and a laugh. She’d found him.

  After he explained the situation to the 911 operator and disconnected, he held out her phone. But instead of taking it, she launched herself into his arms, curling herself around him so tightly that even a breeze couldn’t have come between them.

  “Missed you,” she murmured, meeting his mouth with a week’s worth of pent-up longing. When even that frantic joining of lips and tongues wasn’t enough, she pushed her hands under his tux jacket, then under his silky shirt to stroke his hot skin.

  “Kiki.” His voice came from far away, but her focus sharpened as he turned his mouth against her hair. They were both panting so hard that speech was nearly impossible. “I have…something to…show you.”

  She fumbled for his belt. “I know.” His laughter made her grin, but it didn’t end her quest to get him naked. “It’s been a whole week.”

  “Actually, it’s been more than a week. Longest week of my life.”

  Her fingers stilled on his buckle. “Mine, too.”

  He shifted her toward the tree, setting his chin on her hair. “When I showed up the other night, I saw you didn’t have a tree. If I’d known how you’d react, I would’ve bought it sooner.”

  “The tree is beautiful. Perfect.” Her heart squeezed around the words lodged inside. “But it’s you I reacted to. Not a tower of pine needles.” She held their linked hands against her stomach. “I heard you talked to Nico.”

  His fingers gripped hers, but he said nothing.

  “You stood up for me,” she whispered, the Christmas lights blurring from her tears. Red, blue, and green melded together while Vincent’s arms cradled her close. “You had my back.”

  He nuzzled the spot just below her earlobe that always made her shiver. “And your front, and all the rest of you.” He turned her into his embrace. “I want the whole deal, Kiki. All of you, just exactly as you are. And what comes with you.”

  She met his eyes, so intent and dark. She’d thought she couldn’t love him more. Oh, how wrong she’d been. “I want you, too.” Her voice broke. “More than anything.”

  He let out the longest breath she’d ever heard. Then he grinned and tugged her along behind him. “Time to play show and tell.”

  “Where are we going?” She tried to keep up with him without tripping over Molly, who’d picked that moment to wind through her legs. “I have a bed right here. And lots of floors. Hell, even a wall would work.”

  His laughter carried on the wind as he urged her outside and down the steps. “Walk fast. We don’t have far to go, but I’m in a hurry.”

  “Where’s your Wrangler?” she asked, n
early skidding on the fresh accumulation of snow until he steadied her.

  “A few houses down. Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  They turned the corner and she finally saw his Jeep, way down the street. “You carried a tree that far? With your shoulder? How’d you get in my house?”

  “Broke a small window in back. Sorry. I’ll get it fixed.”

  As if she cared. Windows were a small price to pay for romance.

  He bypassed his Jeep and kept walking, tucking her arm under his elbow so she didn’t lose her footing again. “Umm, where exactly are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He tossed her a grin as they turned onto the next street. “So I heard you like surprises.”

  “You heard lots of stuff, I imagine.” Her inward wince must’ve appeared on her face because he laughed. “How long were you there?”

  “Long enough that I don’t think I’ll be forgotten anytime soon. They’re nice. Your parents,” he added when she gaped at him.

  “Yeah, they are. A little loony, but nice. Vincent? Seriously, where are we going?”

  “We’re here. Lucky thing you live so close.” He stopped in front of a white ranch-style house festooned with a blinking Christmas wreath on the door. Other than that, the place looked deserted. No curtains on the windows, no cars in the drive. “C’mon.”

  He glanced back at her and tugged harder. For some reason, her boots felt rooted to the icy sidewalk. “Kiki?”

  “Is this your other house? The one you mentioned you were remodeling?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Is that the surprise?”

  “You’ll find out.” He pulled a little harder, impatient now. “Let’s go inside.”

  She followed him, but her excitement over the tree and his declaration had dwindled into a big coil of nerves.

  What was going on?

  He took her on a quick tour of the mostly empty house. Sawdust hung in the air, and she smelled fresh paint every step she took. But she saw lots of possibilities in the wide open space, especially with the granite fireplace and the hot tub and the cute little office, already outfitted with two desks on opposite walls. There was two of everything, it seemed. Two chairs, two laptops….