Cooking Up Romance (The Taylor Triplets Book 1)

by Lynne Marshall

  But she went serious. “May I ask you a question?”

  He’d probably made her uncomfortable by watching her a little too intently. He was out of practice. “Sure. Shoot.”

  “What happened to Emma’s mom?”

  Speaking of shooting, he’d make this straight from his hip. “We’re divorced. Nearly two years now.”

  She looked surprised. “You don’t share custody?”

  “Nope.” He didn’t want to spend their first date and a great dinner discussing how his ex-wife preferred to be completely single to having contact with her daughter. It was too painful. And infuriating. Nope. Not going to go there.

  “I thought maybe she’d died, like my mother. I keep almost mentioning it around Emma but stop myself. I worried it might upset her.”

  “I wondered what was going on with you earlier.”

  “That obvious?”

  He shrugged it off. “If Emma is upset about Mona not being around, she doesn’t tell me. How old were you when you lost your mother?”

  “Emma’s age, ten.”

  “Cancer?”

  “No. Automobile accident. That’s why my dad used to bring me to his work sites.”

  He nodded, realizing Lacy and Emma had a lot in common, losing their mothers so early in life. “Makes sense.” He ate a bite of dinner roll and wondered something else. “Have you ever been married?”

  She shook her head after taking a sip of her wine. “I was engaged, though.”

  “Fell through?” He found that hard to imagine.

  Her fingers divided around the wineglass stem as she rubbed her thumb on the condensation on the glass base. “He was killed in Afghanistan.”

  His hand sped to hers and squeezed, and she lifted serious eyes in response. “That was five years ago.”

  “Still got to be tough,” Zack said, holding Lacy’s hand for several seconds. He shared the sad memory with her as best as he could. How awful it must be to lose someone she’d hoped to spend the rest of her life with. It occurred to him that not only did Emma and Lacy have things in common, but Zack and Lacy did, too. Mona had let him down in a horrible way with her cheating. The last thing he’d ever expected when he’d said “I do” was to get divorced.

  “Will you be having dessert tonight?” The waiter brought mini menus, interrupting their moment.

  Zack checked his watch. “Might be cutting it close.”

  She shook her head to the waiter. “Thanks, but not for me.”

  “I’ll buy some candy at the movies, though,” he said after the waiter had left.

  “The chocolate-covered mints?” She looked hopeful, which made him grin.

  “Whatever you want. Sure.”

  Later, after Zack and Lacy thoroughly enjoyed the latest superheroes movie with a cast of thousands, he held her hand as they walked back to the car. It felt right, walking with her, enjoying every minute. She gazed up and gave a reassuring smile, so he squeezed her hand. That was when an idea popped into his head.

  The half-hour drive home was filled with easy conversation, mostly about the movie and the amazing special effects. Followed by a short discussion of who was their favorite superhero and why. She’d claimed Captain America and he questioned her choice when Tony Stark aka Iron Man was clearly the coolest of them all. He’d actually expected her to say Thor, for obvious reasons, but once again, she’d surprised him going for the clean-cut geek-ish disc thrower.

  Before they reached his house, where her car waited, he turned down a street with a cul-de-sac, part of his great plan, then parked beneath a huge oak tree that had to be a century old. She looked at him expectantly.

  “Mind if we sit here for a while?”

  “Fine with me.”

  He especially liked how easygoing she was, as if her expectations were whatever played out. “I’ve had such a good time tonight, I guess I don’t want it to be over just yet.”

  “Great dinner. Great movie.”

  “Great company,” he added, which made her smile again. Then it occurred that he’d played things wrong. “I should’ve suggested we go have coffee and a real dessert, sorry.” He reached for the start button on his car, but she stopped him.

  “This is perfect. We’ve had enough to eat—well, I can only speak for myself since I ate almost the entire box of Junior Mints—and besides, who needs the noise of a coffee shop?”

  His shoulders relaxed, and hands dropped to his lap. “It is peaceful here, isn’t it.”

  “Very.”

  He rolled down the window and let in the cricket and frog serenade. “I used to come here to think during the divorce.” Not that he wanted to bring that up again, but he was just being honest.

  “Sounds like you need a change of memory for this place,” she said, leaning closer, taking his face in her hands and looking briefly into his eyes. He knew what was coming but was still stunned by the intensity of his reaction, as if he’d mainlined espresso and his heart sprinted instead of beat. Then she kissed him and everything disappeared except for the sensation of her lips on his, and how it spread across his body. Her mouth was smooth, dewy, opened just enough for him to feel the inside rim of her lip, some kiss. Where his kiss last week had been tentative, tonight hers was intentional, and he was excited about where this might be going. Then the tip of her tongue supercharged those nerve endings he’d put on alert since she’d first walked into his house.

  Craving more, and since she’d started it, he pulled her closer, a difficult task with the console between them. His hands wandered across her shoulders and around her back, loving how she felt, then as they kissed deeper. Receptive and responsive, Lacy found his tongue, and soon the satisfying sounds of necking, heavy breathing and above-the-waist groping, which she did equally to him, replaced the silence. Sounds he’d missed. Really missed. Sounds and sensations he couldn’t get enough of right now.

  His fingers dug into her amazingly fresh smelling hair, something he’d wanted to do all night, as he kissed her again and again, marveling over the way her lips felt, how velvety the inside of her mouth was, tasting sweet like mint. The playful way she teased him with her tongue flat out rattled him, which only made him want more.

  Things got complicated from there, in a fun way, and he was fairly certain if there’d been more room in the car—if that annoying console between them had magically disappeared—she might have wound up on his lap. She was as into it as he was, no doubt.

  Without giving up on the kissing, he explored a twisted position or two, attempting to get closer to her. One caused a twinge between his shoulders, the other a kink in his neck. Then, while shifting his posture for a third time, he bumped his head on the ceiling of the sedan.

  Reaching for the jolt of pain on his scalp, he accidentally elbowed her in the jaw. “Sorry!”

  “That’s okay.”

  “You all right?” Her hair was messed in a dozen different ways and his noggin throbbed.

  “Fine—you?”

  “Not really.”

  They laughed at the absurdity of the moment. Hot. Bothered. And bumped up. What else could they do? They’d tried their best and learned there were reasons teenagers moved to the back seat of a car to make out. Old lesson, relearned. But he hadn’t really planned for this to happen in the first place when he’d parked. She’d been the one who’d started it. Which only further proved how out of practice he was in the dating department.

  Unfortunately, the head bump put a damper on that hot-to-sizzling moment. Damn.

  Later, after driving back to his house, they parted ways sharing another toe-curling kiss in his driveway. Zack held the car door for Lacy, then reluctantly watched her drive off. Once she was out of sight, he took the path from the garage to the front door, unsteady on his feet, certain his hair was as wild and crazy as hers had ended up, grinning at the thought. Drunk with sensations
.

  Drunk on Lacy.

  Chapter Six

  Monday morning, Lacy updated her social media page: Had a great weekend and week. Love my new job. Then she added a picture she’d taken last Friday at the construction site from her view behind the counter, with all the guys sitting around gobbling up her food.

  The rest of the week, Lacy and Zack passed secret flirty looks on the job and shared more than a few smoldering glances at both construction sites. So much so, she wondered if his crews noticed? He’d also called her every day of the week after Emma had gone to bed, just to check in, see how her night was going. He never gave heavy hints or made her feel awkward. Their conversations were friendly summations of their evenings. Just his way, he’d said, of keeping in touch. So considerate! So down-to-earth and sweet.

  Which rattled her. It’d been five years since Greg had died, yet some buried part of her still wasn’t sure about letting go. With Zack, she’d let her honest attraction take control, which was fun though scary. She’d totally come on to him in the car the other night, and if the dang car console hadn’t been in the way, who knows where they might’ve wound up? Thankfully, being turned on by someone still wasn’t equal to opening her heart, but if it was, losing those she loved would be front and center in her brain. Maybe she could keep this business of dating Zack in a safe place.

  She thought about his dreamy eyes and wondered who she was kidding.

  On Saturday, she arrived at his house in the early afternoon and barely made it to the porch.

  “I’ve been waiting all morning!” Emma said with a smile and excited brown eyes as she opened the door.

  Lacy hugged her hello. “You have?”

  “I got you a present.” Emma rushed to the couch and pulled something from a white plastic bag like it was already Christmas morning. “Your very own set of crochet hooks!”

  “Wow, aren’t they pretty.” The hooks came in an assortment of sizes and bright metallic colors. “Thank you.” The gift touched Lacy more than she was prepared for, and she took a second to gather herself. “I love them. Thank you.”

  Emma’s wide eyes became bigger. “And I got you this beautiful yarn to learn with. Dad said I could.” She handed her a skein in a shade of light green. “It’s called pistachio. Dad said that’s a nut, but I just like how it sounds. Pistachio,” Emma exaggerated. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  Lacy oohed as she took the items and examined them. “I love this! What should my first project be?”

  “To keep it easy at first, maybe a set of place mats?”

  “That’s a great idea, especially since we met because of cooking.”

  Emma appeared not to have thought of that angle until now, and when she did, she embraced the significance behind their first project. “Yeah, and you can pick a different color for each mat and...”

  “Hold on there, Shortcake,” Zack said, finally making an appearance, kicking up Lacy’s heart rate as he did. “Your feet are barely touching the ground.” He walked across the living room and gave his daughter a fatherly one-armed hug. “Wouldn’t want you bumping your head on the ceiling or launching out the front window.”

  “Dad! I’m just excited because I get to teach Lacy something, for a change.”

  “And I can’t wait to learn,” Lacy said, matching the enthusiasm in Emma’s voice.

  “Okay, this is all too awesome for me,” Zack said, saying “awesome” like a teenager would, yet trying to sound overwhelmed while grinning his way through.

  “Dad!” It was the first time Lacy had heard frustration in Emma’s voice for her father’s teasing. He clearly got the message.

  “Okay, I’m going to leave you two to yourselves and go do some manly work, like mowing the lawn.”

  Lacy thought briefly how nice it might be to watch Zack mow the lawn, especially if he took off his shirt, but Little Miss Eager Beaver tugged her back to the moment.

  “And once you learn how to do this, I can teach you how to make granny squares and you can crochet them all together and make your very own afghan!”

  “I can?” Something told Lacy that learning to crochet was about to rock her world.

  * * *

  Zack tried to stay out of Emma and Lacy’s way the rest of the afternoon, choosing to do yard work rather than the needed paperwork in his office. But he couldn’t help glancing into the living room whenever he came into the house for water or to use the bathroom. Seeing Emma so happy, she and Lacy head to head over the yarn and hooks, talking about who knew what, just hanging out, made his heart squeeze. He couldn’t say he missed something he’d never actually experienced, because this wasn’t the way Mona had mothered. When she’d taught Emma how to crochet it had seemed more like a “let’s get this over with” task. He knew a good thing when he saw it, and Zack had yearned for this kind of motherly involvement for Emma since the day she’d been born. Lacy was special.

  Damn, the heat must be affecting him, sweat getting into his eyes, because they stung. One thing he knew without a doubt—he’d always made sure his baby girl got all the attention she wanted from him. He flat out didn’t believe he could spoil his kid with too much love. He also understood nothing could replace a mother’s love, and the way Emma thrived under Lacy’s attention clarified how much his girl had missed out on. He gulped down the tall glass of water and hightailed it back outside, not wanting to interrupt their moment.

  One other thought occurred on his way out the back door—that he could mess up Emma and Lacy’s new friendship by getting more involved with Lacy. It was obvious how attached Emma was to Lacy. Maybe his pursuing Lacy was selfish and it could be devastating for Emma if things didn’t work out, but didn’t he deserve a full life, too? Truth was, he liked how the house felt full again, and more like a family lived there than it had in years. And he was tired of living like a monk. Really sick of it.

  One last troubling thought made his brow crinkle when he hit the sunshine out back. They’d only just started dating, so it was way too early to think like that.

  Later, while he showered, the “girls” made dinner. The mixed-up feelings swirling around inside kept him there twice as long while he tried to sort out what the heck was going on with his emotions. Why had seeing Emma with Lacy messed with his mood so much? Sad on one hand for family experiences never achieved, and happy on the other for today, Lacy with Emma, and every day since meeting Lacy.

  He lathered, and more thoughts of Lacy and what she did to him invaded his mind. She’d felt so great the other night. Okay, that was one more reason he needed the extralong shower.

  It was dangerous to let his daughter get attached to her. He smiled ironically under the shower stream. Who was he trying to kid? Or was he projecting fears reserved for himself onto his daughter? Seriously, who was Lacy and where did she fit in? Was she just a nice-for-now experience, or could she become permanent? After what Mona had done to his life, he wasn’t anywhere near ready to go there with a woman again.

  He flipped the temperature control to cold and shocked himself out of thinking altogether.

  * * *

  Dinner turned out to be another good meal made great by the company. “What’s this?” he asked, taking his place at the table.

  “A supereasy chicken casserole!” Emma blurted, as though an expert.

  “I chose something nice and easy this week, because—”

  “I made the biscuits,” Emma broke in. “From... What’s that word again?”

  “Scratch.”

  “Yeah, they’re not out of a can.”

  “Then please pass me another,” Zack said, taking his place at the small kitchen table for two, now easily accommodating three. Lately, he missed it when Lacy didn’t join them, which was every night of the workweek. Odd thought, but just one more he couldn’t deny.

  After Zack tried a bite of the casserole and a biscuit, it was easy to
shower compliments on his daughter. “This is delicious.” He meant it, and he was proud of his little shortcake for going after her dream and especially for being good at it. Thanks to Lacy.

  In ten years, he hadn’t seen his daughter look happier, and there went that pang in his chest again.

  Mrs. Worthington arrived as planned after the meal, and Zack had to admit, though the day had been terrific, what he looked forward to now was adult time with Lacy. Just the two of them. Not about to make the same mistake twice, he’d follow Lacy home in his car.

  “Be good,” he said to Emma on his way out the door, mentally chuckling that he had no intention of doing the same.

  * * *

  Later at Lacy’s, not wanting to rush things, he suggested an evening walk. She lived a couple houses away from his friend the mayor, Joe Aguirre, and a few blocks away from a corner park. After having seconds at dinner, he could use the exercise. When they started out, they held hands, but on the way back to her house, he put his arm around her shoulders, and hers went around his waist. He measured his steps to match hers and it felt right. Being with her. Walking under the stars, their hips connecting, just talking about small stuff. This was just as much what he’d been missing as having a woman beside him at night.

  The nearness of her set off thrumming throughout his body. He felt alive and ready to take on the night with her by his side.

  “Your daughter is a good little teacher.”

  “And you’re a great influence on her.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “That makes me happy.”

  “Good to know. Oh, and since that makes you so happy, how about helping a guy out tomorrow?”

  She stopped. “With?”

  “I’ve got a date with two little girls at the amusement park and I really could use some backup.” Would she accept his plea for help?

  “You realize she told me all about your big day tomorrow already, right?”