by Jacie Floyd
“What motorcycle club do you belong to?”
“The Good Riders.”
She nodded as he said the name, realizing she should have guessed. “You ride to benefit local causes or charities. They sponsored a ride last year to raise money for one of the students at my school who needed a heart transplant.”
“McKenzie Lawson?” he asked. “I rode on that one. I hear she’s doing great.”
“She is. She’s back in school and the money the Good Riders raised made a huge difference in providing the kind of care she needed. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, believe me. Riding and raising money for kids in need are two of my favorite things.”
“All the teachers promoted the ride and worked the day of, to help coordinate. It was a wonderful event. Everyone from the club was great, and watching all of you ride off together was an amazing sight.” Molly wondered if she’d seen him or talked to him that day.
“Too bad I didn’t know you then. You could have ridden with me.”
Her skin tingled at that thought. “I would have liked that.”
“I’ll take you sometime, but for tonight, I thought we should make a more subdued arrival.”
The rest of the way to the restaurant, their conversation covered work, the weather, and the news of the day. To her surprise, he focused solely on her and his driving and wasn’t interrupted by a single call.
She’d been certain he’d have a comment or two about the Volkswagen Interruptus of the night before, or pressure her about the fate of the Sleeping Lotus. But no. So far nothing but charming conversation and gentlemanly behavior, including guiding his hand on her back and the chivalrous opening of doors.
He kept their destination a surprise until they arrived at The Riverside—her favorite restaurant. One generally out of her price range and saved for very special occasions.
Was it chance that led him to make reservations here, or a deeper, symbiotic connection that had them operating on the same wavelength? She’d pictured him taking her someplace more casual, less expensive. Less romantic.
Inside, the hostess seated them by a window with an almost magical view of the Ohio River, streaked orange and pink from the setting sun. The lights of the Cincinnati skyline winked on across the water, giving the city an enchanting glow.
Molly smiled at Gabe as the waiter shook out her napkin and draped it across her lap. Crisp linens and fresh roses on the table added richness to the ambience. But the quality that made everything perfect was having Gabe seated across from her, attentive, attractive, his knee brushing hers.
The flicker of candlelight added intriguing shadows to the planes of his face. His eyes and teeth flashed her way while they discussed the entrees. They both chose the Chilean Sea Bass, lobster mashed potatoes, and asparagus tips. The perfect wine completed the movie-perfect meal.
“You look wonderful.” After the waiter had left with their orders, she realized she couldn’t stop staring at Gabe. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, noticing everything from the sensual efficiency of his hand movements to the more obvious roll of his strong shoulder and arm muscles shifting beneath his jacket.
“So do you. Did I mention that before?”
“Yes, you did. Thank you.” She warmed to the flattery. “Great suit, by the way.”
“From my days at P&G.” He dismissed the subject with a shrug. “I had to dig deep into the closet to locate one.”
“You worked at P&G?” Her voice elevated with surprise. Conservative was written all over him. But the independence of running his own company suited him so well, she couldn’t quite picture him in a corporate setting. “When?”
“A lifetime ago.”
After the wine and then their salads arrived, he introduced the topic of the day. “Tell me more about Grandma Bella and Grandpa Jebediah. We never did get back to that on Wednesday.”
She smiled, eager to comply. “Besides the scrapbook, I struck pure gold when I located Bella’s letters to her sister.”
His hands stalled in the act of buttering a roll. “The one who raised your great-grandmother?”
“Yes, her name was Rose. She was a noted beauty, but very shy and the exact opposite of Bella. She married young and kept scrapbooks and photo albums about her famous sister. The two of them shared confidences, exchanging letters whenever they were apart. In fact, she was keeping Bella’s baby daughter, Clarice, when Bella died. Rose adopted and raised her.”
“That was a pretty common scenario, wasn’t it? People frequently ended up raising the children of relatives in those days.” He sniffed and swirled his wine before taking a sip.
“True. As a teacher, I see it happen a lot, even today.”
“How did Bella end up marrying someone else so soon after the end of her flashy engagement to Jebediah?”
Molly finished off the last olive from her salad and put down her fork, eager to tell the tale. “At the famous betrothal party, Jebediah announced that Bella would give up her career when she became his wife. In a letter to Rose, Bella said they’d never discussed such a thing, and she never intended to stop performing.”
With the reappearance of the waiter, Molly sipped her wine and waited. An assistant server took away their salad plates and the waiter deposited their entrées.
“And then what?” Gabe asked. “Did Jebediah’s chauvinism cause Bella to break off the engagement?”
“Jebediah believed the Sleeping Lotus was chock full of erotic physical powers. I read something along those lines in one of the research books too. But apparently, he was told that as long as the pieces were together, whoever owned it would experience a powerful attraction and...” She groped for an appropriate euphemism. “...impressive staying power.” She twirled her charm bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t know what his motives were. Maybe he didn’t want Bella trying her luck with someone else, or maybe he needed the boost. After the engagement party, he took half the Sleeping Lotus home with him, saying they would merge the two pieces when the two of them were man and wife.”
Gabe winked, clearly amused. “The Chinese version of a chastity belt for her and Viagra for him.”
“Possibly.” Molly blushed, remembering the attraction she’d felt for Gabe the night of the taping. “A few days later, they quarreled bitterly and broke off the engagement.”
“So they were happy together until they were given the Lotus and separated the halves.” Gabe twisted his handsome mouth with the skepticism she’d come to expect.
“Whatever the reason, Bella was devastated.” Echoes of their pain had wrenched Molly’s heart when she’d read Bella’s letters. She shook off the memory and resumed relaying their relatives’ history.
“Soon after that, Jebediah wrote to her, asking her to forgive him. He hadn’t understood how much singing meant to her. He said he hoped she would reconsider, but even if she wouldn’t, if she would meet with him just one last time, he’d return his part of the Sleeping Lotus as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Gabe said.
Molly pulled her notes from her purse. She blinked to keep Gabe from seeing her teary reaction to the old tragedy. “Not at all. It’s really sad. I quote, ‘Just like the two pieces of jade we possess, may our hearts beat forever as one.’”
“The old dog. He intended to seduce her into coming back to him, with the help of the Sleeping Lotus and some... impressive staying power.”
“Yeah, but get this.” Molly shrugged with a bit of a smile. “Jebediah’s letter was dated March 22, 1910. The newspaper account of his death appeared the next day.”
“So we don’t know if they managed to reconcile their differences or not, do we?”
Molly flicked through the charms on her bracelet, disappointed that he couldn’t or wouldn’t see the story’s underlying romance. “Bella believed he was on his way to meet her when he was killed.” She gave a knowing nod. “While the two pieces of the Sleeping Lotus were separated.”
He didn’t quite snort. “An
d she was so heartbroken that she immediately married someone else and had a child with him.”
Molly sprang to Bella’s defense. “When she wrote a few months later to tell her sister about her quiet wedding to her manager Henry Bittberg, she says that she’d had a ‘close’ relationship with him before her whirlwind and tumultuous romance with Jebediah. His death shattered her, but Henry was warm and supportive and wanted to marry her.” Molly imagined the circumstances that could make a woman change allegiances so quickly in a time of grief. “I think she felt safe with him. Their relationship didn’t have the passion of her relationship with Jebediah, but it didn’t have the heartache either. And he certainly understood her need to perform, and maintained an interest in her career, unlike Jebediah who opposed it.”
Gabe didn’t quite curl his lip in disdain, but he looked doubtful. “Sounds plausible.”
“Doesn’t it?” Molly gave him a big smile. “And that, my friend, is what they call provenance.”
“Hey, that’s right!” Gabe clinked his wineglass to hers with an answering grin. “Congratulations, Molly! You did it. Now we can sell the outrageous thing to the highest bidder.”
Molly bit her lip to keep from arguing with him. With the evening off to such a promising start, she didn’t want to ruin their dinner. But she couldn’t hide her hesitation.
“You’re still reluctant, aren’t you?” Gabe leaned in and covered her hand with his. “The pieces were meant to be together. Remember, Bella said even Jebediah agreed about that. If not for his untimely death, he would have rejoined them.”
She turned her hand up, so that their palms met and fingers entwined, forming a link between them where their pulses beat in synchronization. “True, but it’s such a sentimental piece with so much history attached for both our families, and who knows how many others through the centuries?”
Gabe’s jaw hardened in the candlelight and his fingers closed around hers. “I can’t afford sentiment. I have too many people depending on me, Molly. At least consider selling it, please.”
The pleading almost undid her. She doubted that he often asked anyone for help. She doubted he liked doing it now. To refuse him point blank would be premature. It would ruin their evening and whatever attraction was building between them. “You know I’m considering it.”
Uncomfortable silence camped out at their table. Molly attempted to ignore the tension that kept Gabe stiff and aloof. Understandably, he needed the money from the sale of the Sleeping Lotus, but who couldn’t use some extra cash? Why was the money the most important thing to him? She finished off her Sea Bass with a sigh.
She’d seen his offices, staff, and company. The operation may not be making them rich, but it looked lucrative enough to pay the bills with potential to do better than that. His determination alone would ensure its success. She didn’t understand his obsession about selling the Sleeping Lotus. Didn’t he realize there was more at stake than money?
Reaching for her glass, Molly had it to her lips before she realized it was empty. Gabe poured more wine for both of them.
The waiter materialized again. “Dessert? Coffee? Cognac?”
“Cappuccino for both of us.” Gabe nodded, a kind of secret signal that sent the waiter scurrying away.
Molly gave the dessert cart a look of longing.
“I’m sorry.” He took her hand again and smiled. “I should have checked with you before I dismissed the waiter. Did you want something more?”
“No, I couldn’t.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” His slow smile poured on the heat and admiration.
“Poundage.” She pinched an imaginary roll around her waist.
His gaze swept her appreciatively. “You look perfect to me.”
A blush stained her cheeks again. “Thanks. I do have a sweet tooth I try to control. The sweet has to be spectacular before I allow myself the indulgence. If I’d known we were coming here, I’d have suggested ordering the chocolate soufflé with amaretto cream sauce. It’s well-worth the calories, but it takes an hour to prepare it.”
“You like the chocolate soufflé?” He frowned. “I wish I’d known, and I would have ordered one for you. Would you like to share mine?”
“You called ahead and ordered the soufflé?” She stared at him and playfully punched his arm. “This seems suspicious. How did you know that daisies are my favorite flower and this is my favorite restaurant? How did you know that the chocolate soufflé is my favorite dessert? Is this fate, or are you psychic?”
“Neither.” He realigned his flatware beside his plate. “I guess you won’t chalk it up to coincidence or a couple of lucky guesses?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t believe in luck.”
A little guilty glimmer flickered in the back of his eyes. “That’s right. I believe in making my own luck.”
“And how did you do that tonight?”
“I called your mother.”
Delight tugged with caution for control of her emotions. “Why?”
“I wanted to make sure you enjoyed yourself and approved of my choices for you.” His comment sounded off-hand, but she read more into his guarded expression.
She still didn’t understand, but a little surge of hope sprang up like dandelions in a rose garden. William’s rejection must be more of a sore spot than she realized if she was so desperately searching for admiration and attention. “Why?”
He hesitated. “For helping us out at the office the other day.”
Her heart sank a notch. Plausible, but disappointing. No real reason for her to think his consultation with her mother was based on more personal motives. A couple of kisses—really hot kisses—didn’t add up to a lifetime commitment, after all. Especially with her lack of faith in such commitments. “Filling in for Terry wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to me. To my business. To my family.”
“I’m happy I was able to help.” Sipping her wine, she tried for a smile. She didn’t want gratitude from him, damn it. She moved to tuck her hair behind her ear and ran into the daisy still nestled there. “Oh.” Her fingers plucked the flower free. “Did Mom suggest—did she tell you to put—to do—umm. Well, darn.” She rolled the stem between her fingers, swallowing a rising swell of disappointment.
“No.” He captured her hand between his palms, drawing her focus back to him. “That was all me.”
“Well, that’s good then. Really good.” She closed her eyes, trying to erase her bumbling speech, actions, and feelings. Oh Lord, but he had her on edge. She grasped desperately for a neutral topic to smooth away her awkwardness. “I really like your family.”
He shot her a disbelieving look followed by a grimace. “Thanks, they’re great, but they’re not the easiest bunch to keep in line.”
She had so little family left that she couldn’t imagine anyone being less than enthusiastic about theirs. “Why do you have to keep them in line?”
“Somebody has to.”
“Seriously?”
“Let’s just say they’re indifferent to schedules, appointments, and other people’s rules. I don’t think any of them, except Sierra, had ever held down a job for longer than six months straight before we created Contract Communications. It used to piss me off the way they always sponged off Granddad, and he doesn’t have the money to spare.” Gabe pretended to be annoyed, but she could hear fondness beneath the exasperation.
“You’re good to them. It’s great you’ve given them this opportunity, but maybe they prefer not to keep schedules, appointments, and follow other people’s rules.”
“Right, and now they don’t have to.”
“Just yours.”
He leaned back, distancing himself from her and her comment, examining it like a fake dollar bill. “Is that so bad?”
“Are they having trouble falling into line?”
“Sometimes, but it’s for their own good.”
“Good intentions are important, but what about what th
ey want?” She could see he didn’t want to answer her, although he did sit still for a long moment. His family, his problem. He knew them better than she did. She cleared her throat to keep from interfering further. “I’m sure everything will work out.”
He contemplated her comment along with his wine. “Really? How?”
She shrugged. “How would I know? They’re your relatives.”
“And I would let all of them crash and burn if it weren’t for Sierra and Chloe. And Granddad.”
“Why them especially?”
“Well, Chloe, obviously, is just a little kid and a sweetheart. But where Sierra and Granddad are concerned, it’s all about paybacks.”
“This sounds like a story. Do you want to tell me?”
He opened his mouth then closed it, turning with anticipation and relief toward the delivery of the soufflé.
After the waiter poured the decadent amaretto sauce onto the soufflé and departed, she saw Gabe had retreated from the personal conversation. He picked up a fork and cut into the dessert. The gooey sauce and interior oozed onto the plate. Molly’s mouth watered.
“You first.” He held a bite up to her lips.
“Mmmm.” The rich chocolate and sauce coated her tongue. The sugar shot straight into her bloodstream. The perfection of the moment went straight to her head. “Now you.”
His lips closed over the delicacy she offered him. His tongue licked out to retrieve a sheen of chocolate that clung to the tines. Her pulse leapt into a little flutter kick at his acceptance of this small pleasure, imagining that tongue licking... licking... well, licking her. Everywhere. Anywhere. Location didn’t matter.
The small gesture boded well for the remainder of the evening. Not that she expected to share greater acts of intimacy with him, but well, she wanted to. Desperately. She restrained herself from fluttering her eyelashes and shimmying her breasts in the most obvious way. “Tell me that’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”