Love and Hope

by Kayla Perrin

  The doorbell rang. A fluttering began in Tasia’s chest. The clock said six-nineteen. She turned off the TV and got to her feet.

  En route to the door, she glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall next to the closet. She looked better today. She’d styled her hair in soft curls that framed her face, and the small amount of makeup she’d applied had done wonders. She smoothed the front of her peach silk blouse, making sure it wasn’t wrinkled. Her pretty blue skirt flowed around her long legs as she walked. Had she overdressed? She wanted to eradicate the image of how’d she looked yesterday from Malcolm’s memory.

  You’re not trying to impress him, just show him that you’re not a total hot mess, she’d argued with herself while getting dressed. There’s nothing wrong with looking good.

  Walking to the door, Tasia placed her hand on her chest and drew in a deep breath. Why was she so nervous?

  Because he’s seriously hot. Admit it—you want to impress him!

  Good grief. The man had shown up to be kind and offer her compassion and comfort in the wake of her mom’s death, and she was thinking about how he attractive he was?

  Girl, you’re only human, she could hear Raven saying. How are you supposed to ignore such a fine specimen of a man?

  “It’s not his good looks I’m preoccupied with,” Tasia said out loud in reply to Raven’s voice in her head. “It’s just nice to see him again because he made me forget about my pain.”

  The doorbell rang again, and Tasia flinched. Was she actually standing here talking to herself? She must be losing it.

  She trotted to the door and opened it. Goodness, the sight of Malcolm caused her breath to catch in her throat.

  “Hello,” she said, and smiled up at him.

  He smiled back at her, and Tasia couldn’t help noticing that his eyes lit up as they took in her appearance. A frisson of heat that had little to do with the South Florida weather rose up her spine like mercury in a thermometer. Had he felt it too?

  “Wow,” Malcolm said. “You look beautiful.”

  Her smile grew and her insides tingled. She was glad that she’d dolled herself up a little. “Thank you.”

  “I feel as though I should be taking you out to dinner,” Malcolm said. “But I’m not appropriately dressed.”

  She checked him out then. He was wearing worn jeans, and there were a few paint splatters on them. He had on a t-shirt, unlike the dress shirt he’d been wearing the night before.

  But despite that, he still looked incredible. In fact, he was even more attractive to Tasia tonight. He was the type of guy who rolled up his shirt sleeves and got to work, and that was hugely appealing.

  Why does your mind keep going there?

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Malcolm said. “I got delayed at the house I’m renovating.”

  “No worries,” Tasia said, waving a dismissive hand.

  “Still, I didn’t want to keep you waiting. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Tasia said, stressing the point. “I figured if you could make it, you’d come. And if not, I know you’re a busy man.” She spoke nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t spent the last hour anticipating his arrival and feeling crushed when she thought he wasn’t going to show up.

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Oh goodness,” Tasia uttered. She was nervous—to the point where some of her brain cells clearly weren’t working. Quickly stepping backward, she held the door wide. “I’m sorry. Please, come in.”

  Malcolm offered her a small smile and strolled into the house. His presence filled it with warmth where it had earlier been cold.

  Her heart fluttered again. He was one seriously beautiful man, and despite the craziness of the last couple of weeks, she was feeling a definite spark for him.

  Her mind had to stop going there. He was a nice guy and probably just being considerate by coming to help her out. So she cleared her throat and said, “No need to go out for dinner because there’s so much food in the fridge. Unless you hate leftovers. In fact, I was going to make you dinner, but decided against it for the same reason. I grew up in a household where we didn’t waste food.”

  “So did I.”

  “The fried chicken is really good. So is the lasagna. There’s enough here to eat. And plenty of variety. Whatever you feel like having.”

  He faced her then, and her heart skipped a beat. Was she talking too much?

  She drew in a breath and offered him a small smile. “So, how did your emergency go?”

  Malcolm groaned. “A big headache. And turns out it was sabotage. The water line into the house was cut.”

  “What?” Tasia frowned. “Who would do that?”

  “The guy’s ex. He owned the house, but his girlfriend moved into his place. They were engaged, supposed to get married. But things fell apart. Now, since the place was his, she’s the one who moved out but it sounds as though she wasn’t too happy about it. Things really hit the fan when he got a new girlfriend … That’s the gist of it.”

  “Wow.” Tasia shook her head. “That’s brutal. When people break up, they should just move on.”

  “I totally agree,” Malcolm said, wandering into the kitchen. He started to open the fridge, then caught himself. Facing Tasia, he asked, “May I?”

  “Please. Whatever you like, help yourself.”

  Malcolm opened the fridge door and peered inside. “The fried chicken looks good. But nuking it will make it lose its crispness.”

  “We can always have a glass of wine or a beer while I put it in the oven. That way it’ll turn out nice and crispy.”

  “Good idea.”

  “There’s potato salad. Is that okay for you, or would you like me to make some rice? Or you can always have a slice of lasagna with your chicken.”

  “Fried chicken and potato salad sounds great to me.”

  “Awesome.” Tasia went over to the stove, and turned on the oven. Then she got the platter of chicken out of the fridge, and put some pieces into a baking dish.

  “Speaking of plumbing issues …” Tasia began as she faced Malcolm again, “can I show you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s the bathroom in my mother’s bedroom. The sink and the shower are both leaking. And I noticed water damage in the cupboard under the sink.” Tasia led the way there, keeping up a constant flow of chatter. Having him close behind her as they walked up the stairs made her feel all fluttery again. “I suppose if I’m going to sell this place, you’ll have to fix it.”

  “She was working her way through the house. The kitchen and living room are obviously the first places that anyone sees,” Malcolm informed her. “She figured she could always get to the upstairs later …” He paused as they stepped into the bedroom. “But … she never got the chance.”

  Tasia hugged her torso at Malcolm’s words and glanced around her mother’s room. There was so much stuff. Trinkets of all sorts on her dresser and windowsill and in shelves she had all over the room. Not to mention all the stuff in the bathroom. It was going to be quite a task to go through it all.

  “Gosh, some days this is all so overwhelming …” She looked around the room, and took a shaky breath.

  “Hey,” Malcolm moved to stand in front of Tasia and put a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have to do this right now. In fact, maybe you want to escape this house for a little while. We can go out. Do something else.”

  She gazed up at him, and again was struck by how kind he was. And as he looked back at her, a part of her wanted him to kiss her.

  Whoa … What was she thinking? She was grieving, her emotions all over the place. What did she want, a few minutes reprieve from her pain in his arms? The idea was silly.

  Taking a step backward, Tasia broke away from his touch and glanced away. “The chicken’s already in the oven,” she said. She squared her shoulders, trying to be brave. “No. I can’t run from reality. Here, let me show you the bathroom.”

 
; She crossed the room and led the way there. Once inside, she said, “You can hear the leaking. The sink is bad, the shower worse.”

  “I’ll take a look,” Malcolm said.

  “Okay, I’ll check on the chicken.”

  Twenty minutes later, Tasia had the baking dish on the table, as well as a bowl of potato salad. “I’ve got both wine and beer,” she said as Malcolm made his way to the table. “Which do you prefer?”

  “Beer’s good,” he replied. Then, “It’s going to take some work to fix the leaks in the bathroom.”

  “Oh, no. I was kind of hoping you could just tighten the pipes or something.”

  “No, it’ll be a bit more work than that,” Malcolm said. “How about this? I checked out the supplies I’ll need and I can pick them up tomorrow, then come by and do the work.”

  So he was going to see her again tomorrow. Strictly business? “Are you sure?” Tasia asked. “If you have other work to do …”

  “I’ll come by in the evening again, if that’s okay. And I’ll just charge just for the parts. Not my time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter 7

  After the second evening of Malcom working on the bathroom, Tasia figured that the only way she knew to repay him for his free labor was to cook for him.

  She decided on the dish she’d been working on for the culinary competition: Duck à l’Orange.

  “Something smells good,” Malcolm said as he entered the house with his toolbox.

  “I’m making you dinner. We’ve had enough leftovers.”

  “Gonna show off your culinary skills?” he asked with a wink.

  “I wouldn’t say show off, but it’s a dish I think you’ll like. It should be ready in an hour.”

  Malcolm set about continuing his work in the bathroom, as Tasia dressed the duck for roasting.

  Just over an hour later, Tasia’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the number on the screen.

  Rodney.

  She swiped to reject the call.

  “All done.”

  The sound of Malcolm’s voice had Tasia whirling around to face him. “Oh. Great.”

  “Want to come see?”

  “Sure.”

  Tasia followed Malcolm into the bathroom. He went to the faucet first and turned on the tap. With the water running, he opened the cupboard door. “As you can see, nothing is leaking down there. All fixed.”

  “What a relief.”

  He walked over to the bathtub, where he showed her that the constant drip was fixed. “No drip here, no drip from the shower head.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I also installed a new shower head. It’s an energy-saving one, and has adjustable water settings that you might like.”

  “I’m sure the new owner will appreciate that.”

  Malcolm turned and looked at her, and Tasia felt a jolt of heat. Or was it just the small space? His arresting eyes gazed at her with such intensity that she held her breath, waiting for him to lean in … Would he kiss her?

  “Tell me how much I owe you,” Tasia blurted, her eyes skittering to the faucet.

  “I’m not going to charge you anything.”

  “But you said—”

  “Forget what I said. Your mother was good to me. This job is for her, if you won’t accept it for yourself.”

  Tasia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay,” she said softly. “But then I really hope that you enjoy the dinner. Speaking of which …”

  She hurried down the stairs and back to the kitchen to check on meal. She inhaled the fragrant aroma of the tangy citrus sauce mingling with the roasted duck. She sampled the rice making sure it was fluffy, not sticky and mushy. She hated overcooked rice.

  Then her cell phone trilled, indicating that she had a text. Tasia wandered to the counter where her phone was and checked the message.

  U CAN’T AVOID ME 4EVER.

  Damn it, why wouldn’t Rodney leave her alone?

  “Everything okay?” Malcolm asked.

  Tasia glanced at him, seeing the concern in his eyes. “I’m fine,” she replied, and grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge. As she carried it to the dining room table, she went on. “It’s just an ex who won’t leave me alone.”

  “A recent ex?”

  “A few months ago,” Tasia replied. Once she put the wine on the table, she faced Malcolm. “It wasn’t serious, but for some reason he’s been reaching out to me lately. Wants to reconnect, it seems.”

  “I can’t blame him,” Malcolm said. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Tasia’s insides flushed with warmth. She glanced away, heat infusing her cheeks.

  “You’re blushing.” Malcolm grinned. “You don’t know you’re beautiful?”

  Flustered. That’s how he made her feel. Her pulse began to race. Did he feel the attraction too? Or was he just being kind and caring?

  He stepped toward her and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “In case there’s any doubt in your mind, you’re stunning.”

  Tasia opened her mouth to say something—anything—but no words would come. Not when she saw the undeniable heat in Malcolm’s eyes.

  He trailed one finger along her cheek, his eyes locked on hers. Tasia couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to. Pretty much from the first time they’d talked, she’d wondered about this moment. Wondered what it might be like if he kissed her.

  As if reading her mind, Malcolm wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Putting a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face upward. As his other hand splayed on her back, he lowered his face to meet hers.

  Tasia let out a little sigh just before his lips came down on hers. A thrill of pleasure spread through her, electrifying her body. And Lord help her, the rest of the world faded away.

  His lips moved slowly, and oh so sweetly, drawing out the deliciousness. Tasia ran her hands up Malcolm’s strong arms and gripped his shoulders.

  There was a quick knock at the front door, followed by, “Tasia? Are you—Oh! I’m sorry.”

  The intruding voice had Tasia and Malcolm jumping apart. One minute she’d been hot, and now it was as though someone had doused her body with cold water.

  With a quick turn, Tasia saw her mother’s neighbor, Mrs. Campbell. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “The door was open. I should have called first.”

  Tasia took a deep breath as she approached the older woman. “It’s fine. Um, Malcolm came by to do some plumbing work.” She pointed upstairs. “The shower and sink in my mother’s bathroom.”

  Mrs. Campbell nodded and beamed at them, a twinkle in her eyes. “Hello Malcolm. I met you a couple of times before, when you were doing the work on Stella’s kitchen.”

  “I remember,” Malcolm said with a cheeky grin. “Nice to see you again.”

  “I brought a cheesecake,” Mrs. Campbell said, holding the pie dish high. “I figured you probably have enough dinners, but likely no desserts.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Tasia said.

  “And I wanted to check on you,” Mrs. Campbell went on, her thin lips pulling in a warm smile. “Make sure that you were okay. But it looks like you’re in good hands.”

  Tasia’s face flamed. One kiss, and of course that was when Mrs. Campbell had to show up! Tasia could only imagine what she was thinking.

  “I’ll just put this in the kitchen,” Mrs. Campbell said.

  Malcolm and Tasia shared embarrassed grins as she walked past them into the kitchen.

  “Something certainly smells good.”

  Tasia walked into the kitchen. “I made duck,” she explained. “I figured I should make Malcolm a decent meal since he was kind enough to fix Mom’s bathroom.”

  “Your mother spoke so highly of your skills as a chef.” Mrs. Campbell smiled. “Said you are so talented. And this certainly smells divine.”

  “Thank you.” Tasia placed her right hand over her heart,” warmed by the compliment. “Y
ou’re welcome to stay for dinner,” Tasia found herself saying as Mrs. Campbell put the cheesecake in the fridge. She shot an apologetic look at Malcolm. He gave a quick nod, letting her know that he was fine with the offer she’d made.

  Mrs. Campbell turned to face Tasia. “Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You’re not intruding,” Tasia told her. “There’s plenty of food.”

  “Are you sure?” Mrs. Campbell asked.

  “The more the merrier,” Malcolm said.

  Mrs. Campbell lifted the lid on the pot and peered inside. Inhaling deeply, she heaved a heavenly sigh. “Duck à l’Orange?”

  “It is,” Tasia said, feeling a little surge of pride.

  “That’s quite the fancy meal,” Mrs. Campbell said.

  “Actually, I’ve made it a few times in recent months. It’s a dish I was planning for … Well, I was supposed to be on a televised culinary competition. Have you heard of the show, Battle of the Chefs?”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Campbell enthused. “Now, I admit, I never used to watch the show until your mother told me you were going to be on it. Then I had to start tuning in.”

  “What do you mean you were supposed to be on?” Malcolm asked Tasia.

  Tasia faced him. “The show shoots next month. As you can imagine, I was really excited about it. But Mom died and now everything’s up in the air. The producer has called a couple of times in the last few days. I told her I’m not sure I can do it anymore … With everything that’s going on. I need to give her a final decision by the end of the week so she can get another chef to replace me.”

  “You should do it!” Mrs. Campbell exclaimed.

  Tasia frowned. “I’m not sure I can afford the time to go to New York now. I have so much to do here.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like packing my mother’s things,” Tasia explained. “I’m going to sell the house.”

  Mrs. Campbell’s mouth formed an O. “No.”

  “It really doesn’t make any sense to keep it,” Tasia said. Yes, she knew that her mother had wanted her to hang onto the house, but emotionally, Tasia couldn’t do it. “My life is in Atlanta, and Andrew’s life is in Seattle. Ideally, I’d like to get the house packed up sooner rather than later, so how can I spare the time for the show?”