by Erika Kelly
And, still, it wasn’t enough. He palmed her breasts, thumbing the nipples, making her gasp. Sucked one into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. He wanted all her edges blurred, sensation taking over until she was nothing but desire and pleasure and them. Their scents, tastes, sounds, and reactions mingled. He wanted them to become one.
As she reached between them to grip his cock, he pulled back. “I don’t have condoms.”
“I like that about you. That you’re not a horndog. You could get laid every day of the week, if you wanted, and yet you’re more…discriminating than that.” She nuzzled his ear. “And I’ll bet you’re pretty diligent about protection.”
“Always.” Where was she going with this? His body stilled. “I’m clean, and I’ve always used a condom.”
She got up on her knees. “Same, and I’m on birth control. I want you inside me, Will. I don’t want a single damn thing between us.” Fingers in his hair, she rocked on his lap and waited for his acknowledgment.
“Fuck, yeah.” One hand on his cock, the other on her hip, he rocked up into her, thrusting until she’d taken all of him. Oh, holy hell. He’d never gone bare inside a woman, and it was fucking hot.
Lust slackened her features, softened her mouth, and she gripped his shoulders as she rode him. Each thrust of his cock through her slick, tight channel sent shockwaves through him. “Jesus, you feel good.” Static electricity tripped across his skin.
Reaching for the headrest, she moved faster, slamming down harder. He got his hands on her breasts, tweaking her nipples, feeling the weight of them as they bounced and shook.
“Oh, Will.” Her sexy, desperate noises let him know she was getting close.
He could feel her getting wetter, slicker, and then he just lost it. Lost himself in her sounds and her scent, the rhythmic slap of her rump on his bare thighs. With his orgasm bearing down on him, he reached between them, fingers seeking her hard nub, and when he found it, she threw her head back and cried out. “Will.”
That was it. He was a goner. Clamping his hands on her hips, he took over, slamming her down on him in time with his thrusts. Her breath stuttered out of her, her arms went rigid, and then her body jerked and twisted. “Oh, God.”
Holding her hard against him, he came so hard a universe of stars exploded behind his eyelids. Euphoric, he spun through outer space, and he never wanted to come back down.
When his ass hit the seat again, she slumped against him, arms pulled in tight to her sides, head on his shoulder, and she rested against him while she caught her breath.
And right then he knew. His heart was a ticking time bomb, wired to go off the moment she walked out of his life.
Wanting her…he was swollen with it. Need, yearning. He couldn’t get enough. Just couldn’t. Wanted his hands on her. His mouth, his tongue. He wanted inside her. Harder, closer, more. Fuck, he had to have her.
Rolling over, his arm reached to yank her tight against him and found air. It landed on the mattress. Will startled awake, and reality crash over him.
He was doing it again. Getting all needy and attached.
Why couldn’t he have normal feelings for a woman? Why did they have to inflate like this?
He’d probably driven her back to her own bed with his greedy hands.
A fresh wave of fear rolled through him. Unless…she’d gone to take care of Ruby? He jackknifed up, listening for the monitor. That was when he noticed the cool air rushing in from the balcony, the French doors wide open.
Stepping into his boxers, he headed toward the hour-glass shaped body silhouetted against the night sky. The breeze riffled the tips of her long blonde hair. Arms folded on the bannister, she gazed out into the darkness. A full moon bathed the meadow in its milky glow.
“Can’t sleep?”
She cast a glance over her shoulder. “I’m just too happy.”
Happy? So, he hadn’t run her off. “How can you be too happy?”
“It’s bouncing all around inside me. I can hardly contain it all. I love it here, Will. I never even considered visiting Callie let alone falling in love with this place. I love the freedom and the mountains. I love this house and watching you find your way with Ruby. And…” She turned back to the meadow.
He really needed her to finish that sentence. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he set his chin on her shoulder. “And?”
“And I really like you.”
For a moment, he held his breath, as if he could stop time and just revel in this one perfect moment. And then he broke the quiet with something he’d never said before. “I’m crazy about you. You make me happy.”
She turned in his arms, clasping the back of his neck, and standing up on her toes to kiss him.
The breeze cooled his flushed skin, and he held her loosely, just kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing, soft, gentle, a slow tangling of tongues. Nothing had ever felt so sweet, so tender, so perfect.
When she pulled back, she let out a happy sigh.
He wanted more than stolen moments with her. “I’d like to take you somewhere on Saturday. Just the two of us.”
“And leave Ruby with Lachlan?”
“No, the nanny’s coming this weekend. Remember?”
“Sure, but I figured you’d find something wrong with her. There’re enough resumes in the garbage to wallpaper a small home.”
“I tried, believe me. But she’s pretty damn perfect.” She’d been with the same family in Denver the last sixteen years. The youngest had just left for college, so she was free. Good timing.
“Super.” She sounded grouchy.
He grinned into her hair. “I feel the same way.”
“I know she needs a nanny. I just…I like being with her. I like us…forget it.”
Yeah, me, too. “It’s just a test-run. It has to be the right fit on both sides.”
“I hongry.”
They both spun around at the sweet, little voice.
Delilah smiled at the little girl. “We’re not eating until breakfast, sweetheart.”
He knew Delilah wanted nothing more than to take his sister to the kitchen and make pancakes until she fell asleep in her arms, but she was setting aside what she believed was right to go along with his plan. And, damn, he liked that about her.
He lifted his sister into his arms. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”
She reached over his shoulder, beckoning Delilah. “Wally.”
Delilah leaned forward and kissed her cheek, but Ruby caught her at the back of the neck and held her in place, the three of them locked together.
With Ruby’s arm around his neck and Delilah’s palm on his back…a tide of emotion rolled in so powerful it nearly knocked him off his feet.
His heart thundered at the beauty of this…family…and the terrifying reality that it was something they could never be.
This is dangerous. Perspiration dotted his upper lip.
Delilah had two events left in the competition. Will left for Freefest the week after next. Right after that, his season began. Fin and Callie and the nanny would take over.
By playing house, they were misleading his sister. And, when they went their separate ways, it would be Ruby who paid the price.
In her two years of life, she’d experience more loss than most people do over a lifetime…why would she ever open her heart again?
Will never panicked. Not when he dropped out of a helicopter onto the summit of a mountain. Not when he stood at the starting gate and took his final run of a competition. Not when he rotated nine hundred degrees and knew he was going to miss his landing—which could result in a broken bone and the potential end to his career.
But the two warm bodies pressing against him—the rush of affection he felt for both of these humans who’d dropped into his life out of nowhere—it was tearing him apart. He wanted them. He liked playing happy family.
But it was wrong for Ruby.
“Let’s get you to bed.” But he didn’t move, and a strange s
ensation flooded his body. It saturated him, swamped him. Fucking overwhelmed him.
Delilah’s hand touched his shoulder, slid up to his neck. Her fingers scraped into his scalp, as she tipped her head to his arm. Their scents mingled—sweet baby shampoo and honey-vanilla. One inspired a profound tenderness and a fierce sense of protection. The other…made him want to put a ring on her finger and keep her forever.
Both made his heart ache.
“Wheel.” Ruby’s voice, light as a feather, sounded sleepy.
“Yeah, Rubes?”
“I wuv you.”
It took a two-year-old to make it all snap into place.
He was crazy about them. He loved his sister with a ferociousness that scared him. And he wanted Delilah Lua in way that breached the boundaries of good sense.
He was only just coming to understand that sometimes there were no answers. That no matter how much effort he applied, he couldn’t always control the way things worked out.
The situation was screwed up. Ruby would have people coming in and out of her life, but she’d never have parents, and there was nothing he could do about that. So, what choice did he have but to shower her in love? Now and always.
He tightened his hold on them and pressed a kiss to his sister’s chubby, hot cheek. “I love you too, Ruby-bean.”
“Look at us,” Delilah said with a sweet smile. “Making a Ruby love sandwich.”
Love. It was strange and wondrous.
He couldn’t control his feelings through structure or discipline.
And, so, he had to accept that even though it would hurt like hell when he lost these two, he still had to give them everything he had.
It wasn’t like he had a choice. He’d fallen for them, and there was no turning back.
On the amphitheater stage, a rockabilly band played a rollicking rendition of Stevie Ray Vaughan’s Pride and Joy. Will held his sister in his arms as they danced on the grass.
Delilah’s heart had never been so full.
This past month had been the happiest of her life. Now that Will had eased up with Ruby, she’d turned into a feisty, rebellious, dramatic toddler—everything a two-year-old should be. She finally felt safe enough to be herself—and she was dynamite.
The vans arrived, the doors opened, and the wait staff climbed out, ready to deliver the tasting dishes to the tables.
Tonight, for the fifth event, the chefs had prepared entrées. Will had driven her out to Culliver’s Ranch, where she’d bought various types of game meat, and she’d spent the week experimenting. She’d come up with some fantastic dishes.
But two of the judges came from New York, another from Chicago, one from London…and she didn’t think they’d appreciate her boldly western menus, so she’d pulled back, incorporating more recognizable flavors.
“Miss Lua.”
The male voice had her turning around so quickly, the wine sloshed out of her glass. Harry Morgenstern. “Oh. Hello.” Quickly recovering, she held out a hand. “Mr. Morgenstern. It’s nice to meet you.”
“The ragù was sublime. The polenta was creamy and salty and rich.” He kissed the tips of his fingers.
“You’re not supposed to know those are my dishes.” Her teasing tone belied the frantic beating of her heart. Would he give her a higher score this week?
“I’ve been a food critic for nearly three decades, and I’ve come to learn that chefs have a style, a voice, if you will. And the reason I know which, out of the six possibilities is yours, is because of your distinctive presentation.”
“Oh, I…” She wanted to say thank you, but what if he meant he didn’t like it?
“You’re incredibly gifted, Miss Lua. Your presentation always stands out. It’s fresh and delightful, but your dishes…don’t quite make sense.”
Heat ripped across her skin. Oh, my God.
“It’s not my place, especially in the middle of a competition, but may I offer a bit of advice?”
“Yes, of course.”
“There’s so much passion in your cooking. The flavors are robust, your vision unique and exciting, but I can’t help getting the impression you’re holding back.” He held her gaze with an intensity that put her on alert—like she was about to get the code to unlock a safe, and he’d only say it once. “Given the inventiveness of your cooking, I suspect if you don’t follow your inclinations, you won’t be happy. Yet, if you don’t bridge your inclinations with the marketplace, you won’t be successful. You see, when your customers have their hearts set on Nonna Abelli’s tiramisu…they want Nonna Abelli’s tiramisu.” He gave her a gentle smile. “And when they come to Calamity, Wyoming, they want the spirit of the west. Everything it has to offer.”
She didn’t know why his words crushed her. Her brother had certainly repeated them a hundred times over the last several years. But hearing it from Harry Morgenstern slammed it home. If she hung a Da Nonna’s sign over her restaurant, she had to adhere to the franchise’s menu and décor.
While she’d grasped it intellectually, she’d stubbornly clung to the idea that she could have her cake and eat it, too.
The thing was…tonight’s dish…originally, she’d made it with wild boar. So, really, if she’d gone with her instincts from the start, she’d have given him exactly what he’d expected.
Worse, wild boar would have made a better dish. It’d have given it a cleaner, sweeter—with notes of nuttiness—taste than beef.
Dammit.
“I believe the combination of following your intuition and knowing your market will bring all the success you deserve.” He gave her a warm smile, but right before he headed into the dancing crowd, he turned back and said, “I look forward to the day you receive your Michelin star.”
Delilah stood there, two fingers holding the stem of her wine glass, caught between elation—he believes in me—and wild frustration. The top food critic in New York thought her food was good enough to earn a star, but not until she figured her shit out.
She’d come out here hellbent on proving to her siblings that her food was good enough to serve alongside Nonna Abelli’s, but she’d been wrong. The patrons of Da Nonna’s didn’t want her creative cuisine and putting it on the menu wouldn’t draw new customers—it would create a sloppy brand.
If she wanted to own a franchise, she needed to deliver Nonna Abelli’s signature dishes. Period. No variation. But if she wanted to be happy, she needed to follow her inclinations.
How on earth did she reconcile the two? Not owning a Da Nonna’s…the idea sent her emotions into a tail spin. To not be part of the family business…it just didn’t make sense to her.
If she wanted to follow her inclinations, she’d need to open her own restaurant—free and clear of Da Nonna’s. Which meant separating herself from her family.
A simple enough idea, except that Da Nonna’s…it was her parents.
There wasn’t a single night in the kitchen that she didn’t get a whiff of her mom’s perfume—a scent she’d created herself in a shop on Bleecker Street. Or feel the ghost of her dad as he raced past her to accept a delivery, riffling the hem of her chef’s jacket.
You know, maybe experimentation’s normal for chefs just starting out. Maybe in time she’d have other things in her life—a husband, children—so that cranking out the signature dishes would be a relief.
Yeah, that made sense. In any event, she didn’t have to worry about it right now. The only thing she needed to focus on was the final competition. For that one, they had two weeks to turn in a menu and sample tasting dishes. And this time she’d do it right. She’d follow her inclinations and fit the marketplace. Just like she’d originally envisioned.
A hard body came up behind her, a strong arm wrapped around her stomach, and warm lips pressed a kiss just below her ear. “What was that about?”
She gave Will a smile and brushed the damp hair off Ruby’s forehead. “You’re a dancing queen.”
“I thought judges weren’t supposed to talk to the chefs until
after the scores are announced?”
“They’re not, but he was giving me advice. Good advice. Basically, he told me to figure out my customer base and then marry my inventiveness to it. If I do that, he thinks I’ll have a Michelin star one day.” Since Da Nonna’s would never earn one, had he been trying to tell her something? To go out on her own? “So, I’m going to do just that in the last event. I’m going to put a menu together with everything I’ve been working on this summer. I’m going full-on outlaw.”
“That sounds good. Why aren’t you happy about it?”
How did he know that? She’d been nothing but positive and smiley. Because he knows me. And that made her smile for real. “Because it means I can’t be inventive and run Da Nonna’s.”
I have to choose.
Where do I belong?
“For what it’s worth,” Will said. “I just heard Chris raving about your dish.”
“Really? What’d he say?”
“He said you’ve got flair. Thinks you’re a superstar in the making.” Will smiled indulgently. “He called your entrée hearty, robust, and incredibly flipping flavorful.”
“Now you’re messing with me. Chris wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re right, but I don’t want to use the exact word in front of my sister.”
“So, other than ‘flipping,’ he actually said that?”
Will nodded.
“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I lost the competition but got offered the job here?”
There it was, that rush of energy between them, that crackling connection. Intensity blazed in his eyes, and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple jumped. “Would you take it?”
Staying here with Will. And Ruby. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. Did he want her to stay? Not just now, in the moment, but really and truly? For all that it meant?
A future together.
But the whole idea was ridiculous. Will had his competition season coming up, so he’d be gone for the next seven months. They’d known each other all of four weeks—hardly enough time to withstand a separation like that. And Fin, Callie, and the nanny would take care of Ruby. Which left her running a kitchen in Calamity…two thousand miles from her family.