Tart

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Tart Page 6

by Lauren Dane


  She blushed and against the candlelight she looked even more beautiful.

  • • •

  Though she was dying to know more about the divorce and his ex, she restrained herself from asking. Though they’d known each other as kids, they had a lot of getting to know each other to do. He’d tell her at some point, she figured, and as long as he wasn’t still into his ex, it would be fine.

  “Why aren’t you married, Juliet?”

  She loved it that he used her full name. It sounded so sexy from his lips.

  She shrugged. “No one’s asked. I’ve been busy running a business. I haven’t had a lot of time to do much more than get up early, bake all day and go to sleep. I’m in no hurry.”

  “Can’t imagine why any man would let himself be sidetracked by your schedule if he really wanted you. And I can’t imagine any man not wanting you.”

  She gulped and resisted the urge to fan herself.

  There was an intensity about Gideon. Even with the aw-shucks manners and his laid-back demeanor, he looked at her like he meant it. He spoke to her like he listened to her, with all his attention. It rendered her slightly breathless and giddy. It felt pretty awesome.

  “Does this mean you’re not going to get sidetracked by my schedule?” Flirting with him also came very easily. Oh, he was a man, a good-looking one so he would be well versed in bullshit as they tended to be. But he wasn’t phoning it in with her. He meant what he said, which made it all even more delicious.

  “Oh no. I don’t let myself get sidetracked by much. Most especially when I want something. I don’t get spooked by getting up at four thirty. Or by successful, intelligent women who are independent. Especially when they’re as beautiful as the one I’m looking at right now.”

  “You’re really good at this stuff.”

  He grinned and it melted her insides. Cripes.

  “I’m good at a lot of things. I can fix broken toilets. I know how to run a cattle ranch. I can ride horses and repair screen doors and bad carburetors. I’m handy. You should remember that.”

  “I’m not sure I could ever forget it.” She laughed and he did too. And then he took her hand, turned it over and pressed a kiss to her inner wrist and then her palm and she forgot her next words.

  “I guess I’ll have to keep on being good at the things you like most, then.”

  He had such an easy way about him. Just being around him was relaxing even as she found him exciting and sexy. “First you’ll need to figure out what it is I like most.”

  He laughed and she loved the way it made him look. “I suppose knowing you as a kid isn’t the same. You’ve grown up pretty damned well.”

  • • •

  After dinner he took her back to her house where she promised tart and coffee. Decaf of course.

  “I like this house.” He sat at her table, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “I knew it was yours before I saw the address.”

  She slid a plate with some tart his way and then poured him a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar if you like.” She put those nearby as well before she sat. “I like it here too. I’ve lived here five years. I’ve considered buying the place for a while, but renting suits me for now. Gillian keeps threatening to build me a little house at their new place.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got some good friends.”

  “I do. You know a lot of them. The Whaleys. Mary, Cal and Ryan are all close. I don’t think you know Gillian, but she’s my bestie.”

  Her smile was quick and it sent his heart racing it was so pretty. He really wanted to just lean in and lick up that neck of hers, taste the salt of her skin, feel the weight of her against him.

  “Do you like really good food?”

  He had to chase away a particularly dirty fantasy of taking her from behind to focus on what she said.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “This is true.” She forked up a bite of the tart and he followed, pausing to enjoy.

  “This is so good. I don’t know how you get anything done. If I had this around my house all the time I’d be as big as one.”

  “Believe it or not, I don’t always have tart here. If I have leftovers at the end of the day, I try to fob them off on friends. If I brought food home all the time I’d be in trouble. But I was hoping you’d want to come over so I made sure to bring some home.”

  “I like that.” He liked that she’d thought about what might please him. “So you were about to invite me to dinner?”

  She laughed. “Not me. I mean, I’ll be there but I won’t be the cook. Mary runs a supper club of sorts called Delicious. There’s no menu. She makes all the choices and presents you with whatever she’s decided to create, and I’ve never had better. This Sunday is the first time we’re using Tart. She used to have it at her place but was outgrowing it. That and the kitchen at Tart is bigger than hers at home. Anyway, I’ve got room for one more at the table if you’re up for it.”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  They ate and drank coffee and they talked a lot about music. It pleased him that she loved music as much as he did. Her tastes were eclectic and ran the genre gamut. He expected he’d find some new favorites now that they had connected again.

  He wanted to take her to bed. Wanted to kiss her from head to toe. If she’d been a woman he’d just met and been attracted to, he’d have made his move right then. She was interested, that was clear. But she wasn’t a woman he’d just met and wanted to nail.

  This woman was different.

  But he wanted to know her more before he did, so he made himself wait.

  But not for a kiss.

  At her door he paused. “I’m going to go, but I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t want to take you to bed right this very moment. Because I most assuredly do.”

  “So why aren’t we getting naked?”

  “Are you annoyed?” He paused there in her doorway, caught between amusement and agitation. “Back when I was a kid I remember thinking all your bold ways were sort of annoying.”

  She grinned, her hands on her hips. “And now? Because, well, of course I can’t tell you how to express yourself to a lady and all, but if you just said that to pass along info and not as a segue into why you think it’s awesome and how much you enjoy a gal with moxie like me, I’ll be quite annoyed with you.”

  He laughed. Damn, he loved her sense of humor. “Yes, it was a segue into why I think it really turns me on now. You know, a gal with moxie and all. You’re bold and brassy and you organize your music in a slightly scary but overall impressively catalogued fashion. It’s nearly religious. And your spices are color coordinated. I bet you don’t have a single junk drawer.”

  He took a step and pressed her against the doorway. She’d taken her heels off when she came into the house so while she was a long, tall woman, he was a lot taller. She was nearly petite as he got in close, holding her in place.

  “There’s something sort of dirty about a woman who organizes her kitchen in a ruthless fashion and can also create what is, most assuredly, art on a plate. You’re salty and sweet. All that big, blue-eyed, blond-haired stuff, goddamn, Juliet, you get me all fussed up.”

  She paused and her mischievous grin slid away. But he wasn’t disappointed because the smile she replaced it with was slow and sexy. Mischievous couldn’t begin to describe what that smile promised.

  Her breath caught. His words, the tension in that normally slow and easy voice of his, snagged her attention. Tugged low in her belly. This whole week had been utterly delightful. He was this boy she’d known but so much more. The man he’d become interested her.

  The intensity of this connection knocked her for a loop. She’d never had this, not with anyone. She was bold. A take-charge woman who got what she needed and gave as good as she received.

  Gideon made her feel so damned alive.

  Sexual tension vibrated between them. His weight against her body. No harming. But he wanted her there and that was . . . well, it ran over her
hot and fast. Sex wasn’t something she was ashamed of enjoying. She sought it out when she needed it. Enjoyed the men she had it with. For a time.

  But this wasn’t enjoyable.

  This heat between them was hot and intense and it got under her skin that he wanted her the way he seemed to.

  They would end up in bed. No doubt about it. And when they got there, it would be absofuckinglutely fantastic.

  For now he held her there, slowly seducing her into a wobbly-kneed mess of a woman frightfully close to begging a man to have his way with her.

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” She slid her palms up his chest and to his shoulders. “And yet you’re going.” She tiptoed up and nipped at his bottom lip.

  It would be a whole heaping helping of just what she needed to get naked and sweaty with this man. Right then. And for a few hours more.

  “I’m hungry for you, Jules.” He took a deep breath and stepped back. “I’m hungry for you and it aches.”

  He bent and took a kiss, this one more bold than the last. His tongue slid in, against hers and then he was gone again.

  “I want to enjoy that ache a while.” He bent and kissed her again, but with this kiss he settled in. This wasn’t quick. No, he took a long, leisurely tour. Little kisses against the edge of her mouth, nips of her bottom lip, the slide of his tongue against hers. He stole her breath as she held on. Held on as he kissed her until her spine eased and all there was was his scent on her skin, his lips on hers, hands at her hips.

  He pulled back and tipped his forehead to hers. “When does Tart close tomorrow?”

  “Eleven. I’m shortening my Saturday hours and Mary will take over and close up at two. She’s doing these nifty little box lunches. When they’re gone, they’re gone. This is the first week she’s doing the weekend lunch boxes so I hope they’ll kick butt for her.” God, she needed to stop talking. He made her blurty, which was not something she’d experienced with too many people.

  “How about we go on a picnic?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Let me deal with the food. Can you meet me at the house?”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven thirty.” He kissed her, fast, and then stepped away; this time he stood on her porch and put his coat on.

  She lifted a hand and waved, watching as he walked away.

  6

  Cal looked up to see his sister Mary come through his door holding one of his favorite things: a canvas tote he knew would be filled with food.

  “You’re an angel sent from heaven.” He went to her, taking the bag and kissing her cheek. “Come in. Do you have time to eat dinner with me?”

  “Calvin Whaley, it’s nine at night. You haven’t eaten dinner yet?” Mary looked around the room, one eyebrow raised. “You can’t work every minute of the day. It’s not healthy.”

  “I have work to do. It’s do it here or in the office. I prefer here where I can drink a glass of wine and take my shoes off.” He led her to the kitchen where he began to unpack the tote while she got plates.

  She was petite, his baby sister. Curly hair like their grandmother and while Cal’s eyes were blue, Mary’s were brown with flecks of gold. She was like a sprite on speed as she bustled around his kitchen, muttering to herself.

  “You need a woman. Or a man—I don’t care which—who cooks and will make sure you eat.” She dished up some cucumber salad to go with the skewered chicken she plated. “Hang on, there’s a sauce.” She opened containers until she found what she was looking for and pushed it at him.

  He hopped up onto a barstool at the island in the kitchen and began to eat. “Holy crap. The problem is, Mary Whaley, you’re such an amazing cook that no matter who I was with, I’d be unhappy with their cooking. You’re too good.”

  “Ha.” She frowned.

  He’d known her all her life, of course, which is why he could tell she wasn’t there just to bust his chops about not eating right.

  “So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here. Not that I don’t appreciate the food, but you have that look you get right before you deliver a lecture and it’s not about my work habits.”

  “I’ve been wrestling with myself for the last few days. Telling myself I shouldn’t say anything. But of course that argument never wins.”

  She sat next to him and pushed a glass of juice his way.

  “What? You’re starting to scare me.”

  “Jules is seeing someone.” She blurted it and Cal tried to keep his expression casual but this was his sister so she saw right through that.

  “Not the first time. She’s had dates before. Why tell me? Unless.” He sat forward and held her eye contact. “Is this guy hurting her?”

  Mary made a face and he felt better. “No, no. At least I don’t think so. This guy is . . . you know him actually. It’s Gideon Carter.”

  “Gideon?” He knew his old friend had recently come back to Bainbridge for good. Gideon had even called and left a message, saying he’d love to get together soon.

  “Look. I’ve watched you watch her for years. Unless you want it that way forever, now’s your time to move.”

  “How could it be serious? He’s only been back a week, right? Maybe two?”

  “Yes. But they . . . she talks about him differently. I’ve seen him look at her. This isn’t some fast, shallow thing. This isn’t fun. It could be more. And you know, it should be if she wants it to be. He appears to be into her and all.”

  “So why tell me?”

  Mary just stared at him.

  “She’s not for me.” He pushed to stand. “We’ve been friends a very long time. It suits us.”

  “Does it? Must be why you’re pacing at the mention of her dating someone else.”

  “Well of course. I worry about her like I’d worry about you.” He cringed as he said it. Despite the jokes about unethical attorneys, Cal hated to lie. He was pretty shitty at it, as it happened.

  His sister snorted at him. Staring right past his excuses.

  One of her brows slid up. “Really? So your feelings for Jules are brotherly. This is the bill of goods you’re trying to sell me right now? I’m insulted that you’re actually saying this to me. I’ve let you go on this subject for too long. You’re being a dookiehead. God.” She punched his arm pretty hard.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed the spot. For a little thing she was totally strong.

  “I don’t want to ruin the connection we have. I appreciate your concern and all, Mary, but things are better this way.”

  She blinked at him, saying nothing for a long time.

  And then she sighed. “What to do with you, Calvin? What would you do without me? Don’t even try to pretend you don’t know I’m right. Poop! I call total poop on you for this lame-ass excuse.”

  He started laughing before he took a risk and leaned in to hug her, kissing her cheek. It wasn’t that she was afraid to curse, she did and often quite creatively. But between the three Whaley siblings, their old childhood insults often reigned.

  “I’m duly chastened. But I’m not going to ruin what I have with Jules. Sure, there’s a little spark. But I’m not going to act on it. If things went bad, I wouldn’t have her in my life. I like having her in my life. But not to date.”

  She actually stomped her foot and glared at him. He backed up a step, his hands up.

  She pointed at him. “You are a serial monogamist. Oh, you like one guy or one woman at a time, you’re not a cheater. But you always have an expiration date in your head. I know you, Calvin. You can be a dick sometimes. You’re messier than you should be. But you’re smart. And you’re good and kind and you help people when you don’t have to because that’s who you are. You don’t normally pretend away the truth.” She stood and smoothed the tote, folding it carefully.

  “I want you to think carefully on this. Because if you lose her because you’re too . . . whatever it is that keeps you from admitting just how much you want Juliet, you’ll hate yourse
lf for it. And her eventually. Maybe even Gideon for doing what you didn’t have the courage to.”

  She headed to the front door. “Stay for a late dinner with me.” He tipped his head to the table where the food lay. “I have wine. We can hang out and not talk about Jules.”

  “No. I need to go home. I’ve got a long day tomorrow and I want to go to bed. Plus you’re harshing my mood.” She opened the door and turned back to face him. “I see the way he looks at her. He is not the kind of man who will miss what an extraordinary woman Jules is. He’s moving in on her. They’re forming a relationship right now. He’s taking her on a picnic! I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

  His stomach twisted a moment.

  “Don’t be a dumbass, Cal. Don’t let her go.” She waved and left him there alone with the thought of losing Jules.

  Jules Lamprey was a person he’d always loved having in his life. She ran with his sister and had pretty much been a fixture in his house from an early age. Over time they’d grown close and at this point in his life he counted her as one of his very best friends.

  But when he’d just about finished high school there’d been more. He saw her as she’d grown and developed as a woman and he’d found it pretty irresistible. There’d been a kiss. But she was so young and he left for college right after. And then he’d thrown himself into his life as a student. He’d developed a taste for men as well as women. He’d learned a lot about himself and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

 

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