“Kiera, would you wait a minute?”
“No,” she said. “I told myself when I hired you that I would not let this happen.” She nearly tripped as she tried to pull her jeans on and walk at the same time. She pulled her shirt over her head and grabbed her purse from where she’d tossed it on the sofa when she’d first arrived.
“Dammit, Slim. Don’t do this.”
She put a hand up. “This is…this was stupid. So stupid. I know better than to let you in like this. I need to…I need to go.”
He reached for her again, but she jerked away from him and was out of the bus.
Trey braced his hands on the wall and pulled in several deep breaths.
“Dammit,” he whispered again. So much for his skills of seduction.
***
Kiera stood in the hallway of her condo building, staring at the elevator doors. She caught herself biting her fingernail and jerked her hand from her mouth.
She’d spotted Callie and Jada’s cars as they both pulled into the parking lot within a minute of each other, so she knew they would be up here any second. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. She rushed over and was waiting when they both walked off the elevator.
“Come on, come on, come on,” Kiera said, grabbing each by the wrist and dragging them toward her condo.
“Hey, you want to ease up? I’m not a rag doll,” Jada said, trying to jerk her arm free.
“Kiera, what’s going on?” Callie asked. “What’s with the urgent meeting? Are you okay?”
She ushered them into the condo, closed the door, and fell back against it.
“No,” she finally answered. “I am definitely not okay.”
Callie and Jada both rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Kiera thumped her head back against the door and covered her face with her hands. “I slept with Trey Watson.”
“What!” Callie and Jada shrieked in unison.
Kiera slumped down to the floor, brought her knees up and rested her forehead on them.
“Oh, my God!” Callie said. “Where did you even see him, Kiera?”
“Was he still good?” Jada asked.
Callie slapped her on the arm, and then stooped down until she was eye-level with Kiera. “Honey, how in the world did you end up sleeping with Trey?”
“He’s renovating my food truck,” she said.
“Holy crap!” Jada yelped. “Trey is the person you hired to work on the truck? Mason is going to lose his shit over this.”
“He already did. He came over to the truck today while Trey was working on it. I had to stop them from punching each other at least three times.”
“We need wine,” Callie said. “Lots and lots of wine.”
“I’ve got white in the fridge.” Kiera allowed Jada to pull her up from the floor. She trudged over to the L-shaped sofa that was a gift from her mother when she moved into this condo two years ago.
“Brownies?” Callie asked as she came into the living room and set the wine and glasses on the coffee table.
Kiera shook her head.
“No brownies?” Jada asked. “You’re a caterer. Caterers should always have brownies.”
“Do you have anything sweet?” Callie asked.
“I’ve been so busy at the kitchen that I haven’t had a chance to cook much here. I think I have a can of chocolate frosting in the pantry,” she offered.
“Works for me,” Jada said.
Moments later, Callie perched herself on the chaise, cradling the can of frosting and three spoons.
“Okay, spill it,” she said.
They each scooped up a spoonful of frosting and Kiera began explaining how Mychal had hooked her up with Trey.
“I knew he had recommended someone to work on the truck, but you never said it was Trey Watson,” Jada said.
“I know.” She kneaded her temples. “I didn’t say anything because I had no intention of contacting him, but then I saw some of the other work he’d done and knew he was the person for the job. He’s really good at what he does.” Callie and Jada both gave her identical, probing looks. “He’s good at renovating trucks,” Kiera clarified. “And, yeah, at other stuff, too.”
“I knew it,” Jada said. “I used to be so jealous when you would talk about how good he was in bed.”
“I was an eighteen year old virgin, Jada. I didn’t know what constituted good or bad in bed.”
Her friend huffed out a cynical breath. “I knew Eric wasn’t good,” she said, speaking of her ex-husband.
Kiera brought her legs up on the sofa and dropped her head to her knees. “God, how could I be so stupid?”
Jada waved that off as she reached for more wine. “Honey, please. Every girl in this town was stupid for Trey Watson at one time or another.”
“Does he still have that sexy little dip in his bottom lip?” Callie asked.
“And that butt!” Jada said, high-fiving Callie. “Trey had the finest ass in all of Maplesville High.”
“Would you two stop! You’re supposed to be helping me figure out just what I’m going to do, not commenting on the man’s ass. Which, by the way, is as fine as ever.”
Kiera groaned and dropped her head to her knees again.
How on earth could she let this happen? She knew better than to sleep with him. Once she gave him her body, her heart wouldn’t be far off. And of all the stupid things she could ever do, giving her heart to Trey again would be the stupidest.
Because he would break it again when he left.
And he would leave. As soon as he was done with the renovation, he would pack up that cute little Bluebird bus and return to his old life, leaving her once again with a shattered heart.
Kiera rested her chin on her knees. “What am I going to do?”
“What are your choices?” Callie asked.
“Well, the first choice is to not let my panties drop the next time I’m around him.”
“You sure that would be a bad thing?” Jada asked. “What?” she asked, looking back and forth between Kiera and Callie. “You can’t tell me Garrett was a rock star between the sheets. At least with Trey you’re getting a known quantity.”
Kiera groaned again. “You’re no help at all.”
“Sorry,” she said, draining her wineglass.
“Are you sure there’s no one else who can work on the truck?” Callie asked.
“I don’t have time to find anyone else, and honestly, I don’t want to. Not only is he doing a fabulous job, but he’s doing it for an amazingly low price.”
“Maybe that’s because he expects to be paid in some other way,” Callie suggested with a pointed look.
“If I were you, I’d take that deal,” Jada said. “Just watch out for your heart. You know what Trey did to it the last time.”
They all knew what Trey had done to her heart, and she was not going to allow herself to go through that again. She was older now. Wiser. She would be a fool to purposely expose herself like that again.
“Okay,” Kiera said, stiffening her spine. “It’s simple. I resist him.”
“Is it that simple?” Callie asked with a skeptical frown.
“It has to be. The shrimp festival is only a couple of weeks away. It’s not as if I can have him stop work on the truck just because I want to get naked for him whenever I see him.”
Jada pointed a frosting-laden spoon at her. “That gets my vote. Think of how much fun you and Trey can have naked. And if you bring some of the toys you bought at my last Naughty Nights party, you two can have a lot of fun.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Callie said, then she looked over at Jada. “But you just reminded me that I need some of that gel stuff that turns hot then cold.”
“Isn’t that stuff amazing?” Jada asked.
“Stefan loves it!”
“Mason, too. Especially when I rub it—“
Kiera held up a hand. “Okay, first, eww,” she said to Jada. “How many times do we have to have the ‘No Sex T
alk When You’re Sleeping With My Brother’ discussion?”
“That’s not fair.” Jada pouted. “You two get to talk about your sex lives.”
“Deal with it,” Kiera said. “There will never be a time when I’m okay with hearing about Mason in the bedroom. And we’re supposed to be discussing how I should not be having sex with Trey.”
“Fine,” Jada mumbled, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair.
Callie reached over and put a hand on Kiera’s thigh. “Look, honey. No matter what happens, the best advice I can give you is to just be careful. We all know how in love you were with Trey at one time. It would be very easy to get sucked into that again.”
“Callie’s right,” Jada said. “The most important thing is that you protect your heart. Neither of us wants to see you get hurt.”
And therein lay her problem. She was pretty sure her stupid heart was already well on its way to loving him again.
Chapter Six
“Dad? Dad?” RJ whispered from several feet away. “Look at that one?”
Trey glanced in the direction his son pointed and spotted a pale green grasshopper that matched the color of the blade of grass it balanced upon. He held a finger to his lips and stealthily made his way to the grasshopper, crossing over a thick, moss-covered fallen tree trunk. He hoped like hell the thing didn’t jump on him.
Holding the specimen jar in one hand and the lid in the other, he came at the grasshopper from the rear and was able to snatch him up.
“Got him,” Trey said.
“Yes!” RJ did a fist pump and came running. “That’s a big one!” He took the jar from Trey. “I’m going to put him at the center of my ecosystem. Unless we find one bigger,” he tacked on.
Trey suppressed a shudder.
He was man enough to admit that when it came to insects he wasn’t the biggest fan, which is why it seemed like the most hilarious cosmic joke that of the list of projects Roland Jr. had to choose from for his science class—one that included building a catapult out of rubber bands and Ping-Pong balls, which would have been cool as hell—his son had chosen to put together an ecosystem with insects indigenous to southern Louisiana.
Trey’s first impulse had been to talk him out of the insect project, but that was something his own father, who used to tell Trey he was wasting his time fixing cars, would have done.
He would not do that to his son. Hell no.
Did he get a slight thrill at the thought of spending an entire afternoon working on the ’69 Camaro with RJ at his side? Of course, he did. But that wasn’t his son’s deal. If he wasn’t playing a computer game, RJ had his face in a book. Trey wasn’t sure the boy even knew what a socket wrench looked like.
So what if RJ preferred real bugs to Volkswagen Bugs? As he observed him scouring the dank grounds, Trey realized it didn’t matter one damn bit if RJ never looked underneath the hood of a car. What mattered was that Trey was here for both RJ and Rachel.
Last night, he’d reached a decision that would allow that to be more than just an aspiration for some time in the future. He’d decided to make being here for his kids a part of his permanent reality.
They spent the next two hours in search of a list of insects RJ had received from his science teacher. Trey was still blown away that the kids had such an involved homework assignment so early into the school year. Eighth-grade was a lot more intense than when he was in school.
By the time Angie called to say that she and Rachel were on their way back from their day of pampering—a reward Rach had earned for having finished her science project already—he and RJ had collected all but two of the insects listed.
Trey pulled into the parking lot of the filling station on Highway 190 where he’d met Angie earlier to pick up RJ.
“How was the insect hunting?” his ex-wife asked as he walked RJ to her Lexus SUV. A smirk tilted up the corner of her mouth. “Enjoy yourself?”
Trey grinned. “We were married long enough for you to know just how enjoyable I found it.”
Angie’s head flew back with her laugh. “Think of all the great father/son bonding time.”
“That’s what it’s all about,” he said, giving RJ two solid pats on the back. He leaned in the open back window and gave Rachel a kiss.
“We’re still going out for bowling and pizza before you go back to Houston, right?” Rachel asked.
Trey hesitated for a second, debating whether he should share the decision he’d come to with the kids just yet. He decided to hold off until his plans were more concrete.
He nodded. “Pizza and bowling it is. And don’t forget I’m taking you guys to the Louisiana Shrimp Festival. I heard they’re supposed to have some kind of carnival ride that spins you around until you throw up.”
That earned excited whoops from the kids and an eye-roll from Angie.
Laughing, Trey waved goodbye, watching as she pulled back onto the highway. It had taken him a while to realize it, but he was lucky as hell to have someone as understanding as Angie as a partner in raising his children. Their marriage hadn’t been ideal, and he had not done a damn thing to make it better. Angie had, though. At least she’d tried. Even though she knew he had been in love with someone else, she’d tried to make it work for those first few years.
He didn’t deserve all the chances she’d given him, the forgiveness she’d bestowed. He gratefully accepted it, and he did everything he could to make things easier for her.
Which is why, even though they had joint custody, Trey hadn’t put up a fuss when she’d told him about Donald’s job transferring them to Louisiana. He’d signed the required paperwork granting her permission to move the kids out of state and had set up a schedule to visit at least once a month, or whenever his work schedule allowed.
But that once a month deal wasn’t going to cut it. He needed to be here for his kids all the time. And he would.
He was moving back to Maplesville. Permanently.
It occurred to him last night, just after he’d made next month’s payment on the land he leased to park the Bluebird, that there was no reason for him to return to Houston. Maplesville could be his home base and he could simply fly out to wherever his work took him. Moving back to Maplesville meant he could have a true presence in his kids’ lives, not this once-a-month shit.
He wouldn’t have to worry about finding renovation jobs anytime soon, either. He’d spent some time lurking on the online food truck forums these past couple of weeks, and it was obvious that the New Orleans area was packed with eager entrepreneurs champing at the bit to try their luck at running a mobile kitchen. He’d even shared a couple of private messages with a few of them. Finding work would be no problem at all.
Of the many advantages that came with the decision to remain in Maplesville, there was one that made the blood in his veins boil over with desire.
Kiera.
A sharp ache stabbed his chest just at the thought of her.
In the five days since she’d run from his home, all of their communication had been via text message, and strictly about the food truck. He had a collection of her short, curt, dispassionate responses stored in his phone. Trey brought up their need to talk about what happened back at the Bluebird after dinner on Monday night, but those texts went unanswered.
Instead of pushing her further, he’d focused all his energy on the renovations, deciding that maybe it was for the best that he and Kiera go back to the strictly professional relationship she’d first insisted on.
But that was bullshit.
He wasn’t giving up this easily. He’d let her go once; he wasn’t making that mistake again.
Trey got in his truck and headed back to Maplesville. He drove past the exit that would take him to the Bluebird and continued traveling east, toward the condo building where Kiera had mentioned she lived.
He entered the building and was staggered by the multitier chandelier and marble lobby. Luxury on this scale didn’t fit in a small town like Maplesville.
&
nbsp; The reality of just how different he and Kiera still were hit Trey square in the chest. It didn’t matter that he could have probably purchased two of the condos in this building with the money he had in the bank; the fact that he was living in a school bus while she lived in the ritziest place in town struck at the very core of the barrier that had always stood between them.
No matter what he had accomplished in his life, he would never truly be good enough for a girl like Kiera Coleman.
But he was determined to make her his anyway.
Because despite the difference in their backgrounds, despite all the people who said the two of them didn’t fit, he loved her, and Trey knew she loved him, too.
He had hoped to find a board of some sort with the occupants and their condo numbers, but there was none, so he took out his phone and hoped for the best.
I’m downstairs, he texted Kiera. Please let me up.
A full minute passed before his phone dinged with a text with her floor number and instructions to come up.
Trey’s heart started to pound with anticipation as he boarded the elevator for the seventh floor. When he stepped from the car, Kiera was waiting for him outside her door. His eyes never left hers as he made his way down the hallway.
“Hey,” she greeted.
One simple word, but it was enough to make his bones wilt in relief. She was talking to him again.
She took a step back and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
It had only been five days since he’d last seen her, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. How had he managed to stay away for fourteen years?
“Thanks for letting me come up,” Trey said, moving out of the way so she could close the door behind him. “I was afraid you would demand all contact remain text only.”
A wry, self-deprecating grin etched across her lips. “I think I reached my childish behavior quota when I hightailed it out of your bus earlier this week.” She looked up at him. “I apologize for that, and for ignoring your attempts to talk about it.”
Just A Little Taste Page 9