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by Seressia Glass


  Victor was the one she’d turned to for every scraped knee and broken heart, but Nicholas was the one she’d been terrified of disappointing. He hadn’t wanted her to enter the reality show cooking competition but had supported her through it, ending up her most boisterous supporter when she’d won and got her own show. The only time she’d ever seen Nicholas cry was when she’d awakened in the hospital after the car accident that had killed her manager and nearly killed her. Seeing her stoic father break had riddled her with guilt she was still trying to overcome. She never again wanted to be the cause of that sort of pain for her fathers again.

  “I’m okay. And I have the girls here. We support and encourage each other.”

  “How are the girls?” Victor asked as he inspected the contents of her fridge. He was always of the opinion that there wasn’t anything that a good meal couldn’t cure, especially a meal shared with friends and family. It was his enthusiasm as well as days spent in the kitchen with him and Nana Spiceland that made the decision to start a café a no-brainer.

  “They’re good. I’m assuming you’re planning on staying over?”

  “Only if we’re not intruding,” Nicholas said.

  “Of course we’re staying,” Victor chimed in.

  Nadia shook her head with a laugh. “I think you do that on purpose, just to keep us kids on our toes. Did you leave your bags in the hallway?”

  “In the car,” Nicholas said. “We can probably get a room at the B and B on Bay Street if you have plans.”

  “Just finished working out, then I planned to start on a few things for next week’s menu.” An image of Kane immediately came to mind. Saturday afternoons were spent taking care of personal errands while Sundays were about café business, but she’d been waffling on the idea of calling Kane to take him up on his offer to spend the remainder of the weekend together. Though they’d parted well enough the night before, something about Kane’s after-sex reaction in the parking deck didn’t sit well with her. She wanted to make sure they were still good.

  “What’re you thinking, princess?” Victor asked. “Are we interrupting something?”

  Both men looked at her expectantly. Butterflies began to stomp grapes in her stomach. There was no way she was ready to tell her fathers about Kane. What in the world could she tell them anyway? “Hey, there’s this great guy who’s a customer at the café who I’ve been banging every chance I get”? Yeah, that would go over well. Not.

  “No, just café business, like I said. Maybe I can invite everyone over tonight for an impromptu dinner party.”

  “It would be great to see the girls,” Victor said. “Maybe we can even take you all out to your favorite party place.”

  “Oh no,” Nadia said, shaking her head for emphasis. “There’s no way I’m going to a drag bar with my dads.”

  Victor grinned at her discomfiture. “Why not? It will be fun. We could use a night out on the town.”

  “If anyone deserves one, it would be you guys,” she agreed, “but not with your kid. You guys can take yourselves to the show.”

  “You can ride in with us and then we can go our separate ways at the door,” Victor argued. “Far be it from us to keep our favorite daughter from trawling for hot guys.”

  “First, I’m your only daughter,” she automatically retorted. “Second, I don’t need to trawl for guys. Third, if you’re serious about going to Tatas, I need to call the police chief and give him a head’s-up that my dads are in town and encouraging my friends to be on their worst behavior.”

  “Vic, I thought we were planning a date, not playing chaperone,” Nicholas said. “You know how the girls are. They’ll be incorrigible just because we’re there.”

  “Of course. That’s part of the fun!”

  The feeling was mutual, Nadia knew. Her fathers had taken her friends under their collective wing. Her friends were just as gaga over her fathers as they were about their “extra daughters,” and Nadia didn’t mind a bit. She knew how awesome her dads were, and considering that Siobhan’s father had passed years ago, Audie didn’t know hers, and Vanessa had a strained relationship with hers, she was glad her fathers wanted to be a paternal presence in her friends’ lives.

  “How’s Audie doing?” Nicholas asked. Of all her recovering friends, Audie was the one who concerned Nicholas the most, and as the youngest, the one he felt most paternal toward.

  “I honestly don’t know, Dad,” Nadia replied with a sigh. “She seems fine, but . . . I worry about her. I don’t think she’s hit her bottom yet.”

  Nicholas frowned. “I figured you and Siobhan would be enough of a steadying influence on her by now.”

  “I know,” she replied, pleased that he’d consider her a steadying influence of any type. “I’m not at a good enough place to be a sponsor to anyone, and her issues are completely different from mine, but I’d hoped Siobhan and I could be living examples for her and anyone else in our group.”

  “That’s all you can do, pumpkin,” Victor said, giving her a one-armed hug. “That, and be ready to give her help when she asks for it. You can’t force her.”

  “You’re right.” Audie had shown up at the café just before noon looking none the worse for wear, so Nadia had to accept that Audie knew how to take care of herself.

  She blew her bangs out of her face, seeking to lighten the mood. “Speaking of people with issues, you said you were on a family tour. So I guess after me, you’re going to San Diego to see Sergey?”

  “Yes.” Victor shook his head, his smile dimming. “I don’t think he’s doing as well as he wants us to think.”

  Her oldest brother had just watched his marriage to his high-school sweetheart implode without warning. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to convince his wife to save their relationship.

  “Poor Sergey.” She realized with a flash of guilt that she hadn’t talked to him in more than a week. “Is he in a bad way?”

  “Jane moved her things out last week,” Nicholas said. “I think he was holding out hope that she would change her mind as long as her belongings were still there, even if she wasn’t. He’s taking it pretty hard.”

  “It’s still hard to believe that she’d leave him after all the years they’ve had together. Almost twenty years. She has to know he doesn’t blame her for the miscarriages.” Sergey and his wife had tried for years to have children, only to meet with repeated heartache. She’d thought they were going to adopt or try surrogacy, but the disappointments must have taken a toll, and their marriage had paid the ultimate price.

  “I know,” Nicholas said. “I suppose the grief and the guilt finally outweighed the love. Now the guilt and grief is all on Sergey’s shoulders. We’re hoping to convince him that a change of scenery would do him good.”

  “Maybe he should come here. This town is great for helping people heal from whatever ails them. I’ll call him and ask him to come for a visit.”

  Sergey had been there for her when her life had disintegrated. Even though he was on the San Diego police force, he hadn’t turned his back on her when her drug problem came to light.

  “He’ll probably appreciate that, but don’t push him, okay?”

  “I won’t.” Much. She didn’t like anyone she knew to hurt, especially not those she considered family. Whatever she could do for her brother, she’d do.

  “I guess Anton is still being Anton, right?”

  Victor snorted. “You mean, is he still falling out of skyscrapers and perfectly working airplanes? Yes.”

  Anton was an in-demand Hollywood stuntman, and when he wasn’t on a set he liked to go skydiving and hang gliding to rest and relax. A true adrenaline junkie, his favorite motto was “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Since he was always on the move, trying to catch him for a conversation was a perpetual game of tag.

  “And now we come back to you, darling daughter.” Victor eyed her as
he ransacked her kitchen for dinner ingredients. “Are you seeing anyone yet?”

  She fumbled the bottle of wine she’d just extracted from the wine fridge. “What?”

  Nicholas rescued the bottle. “I think that’s a yes. Don’t think I didn’t hear you declare that you don’t need to trawl for guys anymore.”

  “You should have been a detective, not an architectural engineer,” Nadia complained. “I can totally see where Sergey gets it from.”

  Victor raised a brow. “Is he wrong?”

  Nadia sighed, knowing she was about to open the door to a third degree she hadn’t endured in years. “No, he isn’t wrong.”

  Nicholas focused on opening the wine bottle as Victor leaned against the counter, pinning her with a curious glance. They had the nice-dad, mean-dad routine down pat, Nadia knew, perfected over nearly four decades of raising her and her two older brothers. Victor would initiate the questioning while Nicholas would stand in silence, not overtly trying to intimidate but doing a good job of it nonetheless.

  Somehow the combination of the two of them created some kind of dad energy field that had she and her siblings confessing to things they swore they’d never divulge to their parents. Yes, she’d kicked Billy Robertson in the shins, but he’d deserved it. Yes, she’d tried a cigarette but had thrown up after the first inhale. Yes, she was an addict.

  She looked at both of them in turn. They’d known from their first date that they’d be together, or so they said, buying a home together right out of college. They’d used the same surrogate for her and her brothers. Sergey was the spitting image of Nicholas, from the height to the same golden brown hair and eyes and analytical mind. Middle kid Anton seemed like a bridge between the two men, with Victor’s gregarious personality and Nicholas’s build. Anyone who looked at Nadia knew that she was Victor’s little girl from hair to toes.

  “Okay,” Victor said into the silence. “You’ve had time to get your story straight in your head. Are you ready to share?”

  “No, but I know you guys won’t leave me alone until I do. Maybe we should have a just us dinner instead. No witnesses while you interrogate me.”

  “Since when is catching up with our favorite daughter considered interrogation?”

  She accepted a half glass of red from Nicholas and managed not to roll her eyes. She knew he’d poured her a half serving on purpose, especially since he and Victor had full glasses and there was still wine left in the bottle. Alcohol had never been her problem; she appreciated the buzz, but not the lack of control that followed over-imbibing. That he still worried about her and her drug consumption touched and irked her.

  “Dad, you should be more worried about my caffeine and carb intake than my alcohol consumption,” she complained, trying to keep her voice light. “A glass a day is my limit, and I usually only drink when I have people over.”

  “I am worried about your caffeine and carb intake,” Nicholas answered, his dark eyes warm as he gazed at her. “I also worry about your cholesterol, your high blood pressure, and whether you’re eating or sleeping enough. I’m also concerned about why you’re evading a simple question. You’re not seeing someone who’s already married, are you?”

  “No.” She held his stare until he nodded, satisfied. “It’s just that there’s nothing much to tell. It’s only been a week.”

  Victor assembled a mix of foodstuffs on the counter. “You know the drill,” he said easily as he surveyed his gastric experiment in waiting. “Name, rank, serial number, when, where, and how.”

  “I’ll tell you everything you need to know after I shower and change into something more appropriate for an interrogation.” She eyed the counter. “But we are not having turkey tetrazzini surprise for dinner.”

  “You love my turkey tetrazzini surprise.” Victor grabbed a pot and a sauté pan from the pot rack hanging over the island.

  “I did. When I was ten. And then I found out what the surprise was.” She turned to Nicholas. “How about Uncle Foo’s instead?”

  Her father’s smile transformed his face from stern to warm. “I like that idea. They’ve got some of the best spring rolls this side of Chinatown.”

  “Hey.” Victor turned to face them. “There’s nothing wrong with my tetrazzini.”

  “Of course not,” Nicholas told his spouse, his expression warming further. “But since it’s only going to be the three of us, we should leave making dinner for another time.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Victor said, resigned. Then he brightened. “But I bet you I can get the tetrazzini together before Uncle Foo’s delivers.”

  “I’ll take that bet,” Nadia said, opening the menu drawer next to the fridge. “Everybody want their usual?”

  “I’ll place the order,” Nicholas said, taking the menu from her. “Why don’t you go get changed?”

  Nadia knew better than to argue. “Be back in a jiff.”

  She headed for the stairs, relieved that she hadn’t followed through on the urge to call Kane. As certain as she was that she wasn’t ready to talk about Kane to her parents, she definitely wasn’t ready for him to meet them. She didn’t think her sanity would survive the experience.

  ELEVEN

  Kane knocked on Nadia’s door, wondering if he was doing more harm than good by showing up unannounced. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d bid her good night the night before, and while he knew she’d had to be in the café that morning, he wanted to see her. Hell, he needed to see her. In the shortest possible time she had become a fever in his blood, a need that crawled through his guts and refused to let go.

  She made him lose control. He’d been honest with her when he said he didn’t like it. He’d built his life and his career through hard work and willpower, controlling every aspect of his personal and private life. Although he had a penchant for adventurous women, the sensual game was still played by his rules and ended on his terms. Stomping through a parking deck with his dick out because he was too damn horny to make it home went against his nature, but damn, it had been good.

  Something about Nadia shredded his control, and he couldn’t figure out what that something was. Her sexual adventurousness, her accepting nature, her skill, her brains, her beauty—all wrapped around a core of strength she didn’t believe she had. In his opinion, anyone who could come through what she’d experienced during her time in Hollywood and be the better for it had to have a backbone of steel. He admired her. He hungered for her.

  Laughter sounded on the other side of the door, deep and masculine. What the hell? While they hadn’t officially had the exclusivity talk, he’d understood that she hadn’t been seeing other people and neither had he. When had that changed, and why hadn’t she informed him? A guy liked to know who his competition was, if only so he could study him and determine how to eliminate his opponent.

  Mentally gearing up, he rang the doorbell. The door opened a moment later. His “opponent” was a tall, older man with brown hair turning to gray, dark brown eyes, and a taciturn expression that immediately put Kane on guard. He cupped a glass of red wine in his hand, displaying a casual familiarity that grated.

  “Who’s at the door?” Nadia called. “Is it the backup dinner?”

  “I don’t know yet.” The man turned back to Kane. “Who are you?”

  “Kane Sullivan.” Kane stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

  “Nicholas Spiceland.” The older man switched his wineglass to his left, then gripped Kane’s hand. “Nadia’s father.”

  Nadia skidded to a halt in the doorway. “Oh, Kane!” She blushed to the roots of her hair as she gasped for air. She must have run down the stairs. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “I was nearby,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. Nearby in a small college town was relative. “I should have brought wine, or at least called ahead.”

  “Wine is always welcome.” A second male appe
ared behind Nadia. Shorter and bulkier than the first man, he had hair as mink dark as Nadia’s, though his eyes held more gold than hers. “So are friends of Nadia’s.”

  Okay. The first man, Nicholas, had introduced himself as Nadia’s father, but she looked more like the second one than the first. “Hello, you must be Victor. I’m Kane.”

  “Kane.” Curiosity ripened the other man’s voice. “You have us at a disadvantage. You know about us, but we haven’t heard anything about you.”

  “That’s because I like to be interrogated on a full stomach.” Nadia leaned against the door. “Kane, these are my parents, Nicholas and Victor Spiceland. Dads, this is Kane Sullivan, the man I’ve been seeing.”

  Well, that wasn’t bad as far as introductions went, but they all heard her discomfort. Considering the way both men turned laserlike focus back to him, Kane could understand her quandary. It wasn’t as if she could tell them the truth, that he and Nadia were only on their third date but several pages into reenacting an Arabic sex manual. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m sorry to intrude on your time with your daughter. Nadia, I’ll see you some other time.”

  “Not so fast, young man.” Victor grabbed Kane’s arm before he could turn to leave. “We surprised Nadia with our visit too. You should come in, even if only for a proper welcome and farewell. Though we were just attempting dinner. You should stay and judge our efforts. Nick’s nowhere near impartial.”

  “I’m not sure how impartial I can be either,” Kane said as he stepped over the threshold. “I have a thing for Nadia’s buns.”

  Victor laughed, Nicholas frowned, and Nadia flushed tomato red. Kane realized the suggestiveness of what he’d said and hastened to explain. “That’s how we met. The first time I went to the bakery I had one of her sticky buns. Cleared my bad mood right up. I’m addicted now.”

 

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