by Annie Dean
"Huh,” he said and went back to the briquettes.
There was a certain comfort in preparing food, even when you felt like things were about to fall apart. Nopales weren't the easiest thing to fix because of the way they oozed once they were skinned, similar to okra, but Addie felt like it was worth it. Grilled with some olive oil and garlic, they tasted so good. Among many other things, she'd learnt to make them from her abuela.
Pretty soon, the place smelled of sizzling beef wafting through the open terrace doors and the less readily identifiable scent of cooked cactus. She was slicing up some melon for the fruit plate when their guest came into the smooth arch that led from the dining room, a formality they seldom adopted anymore. Addie glanced around the kitchen, feeling a little self-conscious. She cooked well, but with abandon, and before finishing a meal, she'd litter every available counter.
"Is it all right if we eat in here?” She inclined her head toward the rustic block table that boasted character more than quality.
"Sure.” From the corner of her eyes, she saw him taking in the copper pots hanging by the small window over the sink, the herb baskets, and the tile mosaic on the floor. “Pretty place,” he added, moving toward the patio.
As he passed by, she caught a hint of vanilla with woodsy overtones. His hair curled tight against his scalp, still damp from the shower. He looked a little better than he had on arrival, less harried. Addie would guess it had been a difficult trip.
But he drew up short when he saw the man patiently tending the arrachera. Manu was six foot plus and four hundred pounds of gold-skinned Polynesian glory, wrapped in a lavalava that tonight looked like a Jimmy Buffet album cover, complete with electric blue surf and outraged parrots. Picking up a stack of plates, she headed to set the table and laid the food out as well.
Manu seemed oblivious to the other man's surprise but then, it was hard to say what he noticed and what he pretended not to notice. But he glanced up as he forked the steaks onto a platter and offered a gentle smile. “Welcome to the Grail."
"Sean, this is Manu.” She paused, thinking it over, then added, “My assistant."
The big man beamed as he carried the meat to the table. “I'll call Lem."
There was no need, though. Lem had a stopwatch wired into his digestive tract somehow. Nobody would know it by his thin, stoop-shouldered frame, but he simply did not miss meals. When he came up from the cellar, it startled their guest again when what seemed to be a pantry door opened to admit her father.
"I guess there are no brownies,” Lem murmured, as he took his place at the head of the table.
"Sorry, Pop. Maybe tomorrow."
There were only so many hours in a day, and she didn't turn to Betty Crocker when she baked. Yesterday's cake would have to do, as she hadn't known they'd have an actual paying customer on site. Addie made introductions again, and then she sat down, the last one at the table. They ate family-style, passing bowls and platters as needed.
Sean took up his knife and fork, but he didn't actually use them. “I talked to a girl on the phone who said you do a lot of corporate sensitivity training. Didn't catch her name, do you have any part-timers who work here?"
"No,” she said evenly. “I remember talking to you, few days back, wasn't it?"
Shit, this was bad. It was really bad. Were there any legal ramifications to lying on a professional basis? Her services didn't come with a warranty, of course, but she was more concerned about being sued.
Do I need a lawyer? We can't afford a lawyer.
Her stomach suddenly felt queasy. Manu glanced at her, and she hastily forked a bunch of nopales into her mouth. Big mistake. They tasted much better with a bite of beef, but the man had her rattled. She didn't understand the cat and mouse thing, made her nervous. After a moment, her brother-in-law started eating in silence, thankfully not commenting on the fact that nobody had been out here in months. Her dad just looked bewildered, but then, that was more or less his permanent expression.
"Sure was,” he acknowledged. “I had a ridiculous time getting out here. A six-hour layover in Phoenix turned into a whole day, and then there was a problem with my rental car company. Plus you're not exactly on the beaten path, so it took me three days to get here from Virginia ... pretty unbelievable, really. It was straight out of Planes, Trains and Automobiles."
The man narrowed his eyes, angry irises the color of fine cognac. He can't possibly think I had something to do with it? Addie felt her lips begin to twitch. She imagined herself replying, Yes, Mr. Duncan, I have the power to delay planes and mess up automobile rentals.
She managed to keep her tone noncommittal. “I'm sorry to hear that, but your stay with us should let you decompress."
Neither her father nor Manu contributed much to the conversation, so it was up to her to liven up the mostly silent meal. Duncan shoveled his food up like he had something on his mind, but she didn't let that stop her. Addie listed a few attractions within reasonable driving distance and then noted the hiking trails in the mountains nearby. By the time they finished eating, and she sliced the homemade butter cake to accompany the fresh strawberries, he looked almost pleased.
But when she paused beside his chair and asked, “Do you want cream?” the man flushed so red beneath his tan that she thought he might be having a stroke.
Chapter Three
Sean choked and took a quick sip of his coffee. It wasn't until after he saw three pairs of eyes gazing at him with varying degrees of astonishment and concern that he realized she meant nothing suggestive by the remark. In fact, she was holding a small blue ceramic bowl, gazing at him like he was crazy.
Not crazy, just horny.
He nodded and she drizzled smooth, sweet cream over his strawberries. Mmm. The butter cake almost made him forget his suspicions, so moist and delicious that it melted on his tongue. As he ate, he reflected on the situation.
There was something wrong here.
For instance, this woman, if she had no help other than the two men, and he wasn't even sure what their jobs entailed, ought to be exhausted if she'd spent the weekend catering to Cami's incessant demands, let alone a group of likeminded others. But Addie didn't look tired at all.
Honestly, he felt annoyed because she'd managed to make him see her as a woman. He wasn't certain how she'd achieved that, as he'd been married for a long time. For so many years that he couldn't remember anything different, he saw women as people, not sexual beings. Cami was the only one he saw that way.
Well, she used to be.
That had changed maybe an hour ago when this innkeeper brushed her fingertips over his palm in handing him the key. Maybe she'd done it accidentally, but it made him inhale sharply, catching a whiff of her scent: sweet, warm and fruity. She smelled like she'd be good to eat. He hated how that thought just popped into his head, and then he found himself looking, like he hadn't done in years.
Addie didn't seem like the sort of woman who turned heads—average height, average weight, but once she caught a man's attention, she kept it. She wore her dark hair in a ponytail, emphasizing the smooth nape of her neck. Sean found himself studying her eyes as he finished his cake; he guessed they would be called hazel, but in this light, they looked almost green, mossy and mysterious.
He chided himself mentally. The last thing he needed was to complicate an already impossible situation. By checking up on Cami, he'd forced things into the open. When he went home, it would be time to confront her with whatever he discovered here, making it imperative for him to uncover something substantial. Otherwise, he just looked like a jealous bastard, and it wasn't that simple.
Sure, maybe there was a hint of that; the woman was his wife, after all, but their relationship had cooled off years ago. What he wanted more than anything else was the truth. I'm tired of the bullshit, tired of pretending. Staying married because they always had been didn't make a whole lot of sense. But Cami didn't care about honesty as much as she cared for appearances, and it was time for the appeara
nce to match reality. They'd gone their separate ways years ago, and it was time to make the separation official. Now he just needed ammunition.
"Thanks for dinner,” he said, scraping his fork across the plate one last time. “It was delicious."
"Addie's a great cook,” her father volunteered.
The older man looked a little surprised to hear his own voice and he tried a tentative smile that seemed off-center somehow. He wasn't used to being around people, Sean decided, an odd trait in a family that operated a bed and breakfast. Manu started clearing the table wordlessly, and Addie got up, smiling.
"Thanks, Pop.” As she stacked their plates, she added, “Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Duncan."
Goddamn, why did everything she said sound suggestive? He cleared his throat. “I'll do that. Good night."
Sean went up to his room, annoyed with himself. He wasn't like that, or at least, he never had been before. As she'd promised, his room was sweet; maybe cozy was a better word. Although small, they'd furnished it with rustic pieces, hand-carved if he was any judge of such things.
It made a nice change from anonymous hotel rooms full of prefab bed sets. This particular room was done in shades of green, echoed in the primitive prints on the walls. Earlier he'd found a TV hidden inside an armoire, but he wasn't in the mood to watch it. Automatically, he started to unpack, folding his one clean outfit and laying it inside a dresser drawer.
Afterward, he peeled off his shorts and stepped to the casement. Pushed it open, inhaling the lightly perfumed air. The garden asserted itself at night, blowing kisses into the wind. There was something seductive about the place, even the breeze on his bare legs. It promised renewal, if he relaxed and let it happen. Maybe that's what Cami liked about it, if she'd ever actually come, how it made a person feel as if anything were possible—the real world held no sway out here.
The knock startled him, and he strode across to answer the door, surprised at how his heart thumped in anticipation. Not until he saw Addie's eyes widen did he realize he was standing there in his boxer shorts. Damned if he would let her see his embarrassment, though. If he was honest, he experienced a prickle of excitement as well; nobody but Cami had seen him like this in years.
He leaned against the doorjamb, feigning an aplomb he didn't feel. “Yes?"
"I remembered you said it took you three days to get here,” Addie said, after a moment. Unless he didn't recognize the look anymore, she'd definitely checked him out. “So I thought you might have some laundry. I'd be happy to take care of it for you."
"I do, actually. And if you don't mind, that would be great. Especially since after tomorrow, I'm out of clean clothes.” He smiled as he turned toward his luggage, where his dirty things were bagged up.
Sean knew a surge of warmth that she'd not only listened, but she remembered what he'd said and acted on it. It'd been a long time since anyone took care of him. Not that he needed it. And that was part of her job while he stayed here, of course. But still. If she routinely provided this kind of service, so personal and attentive, it was a wonder the place wasn't jam-packed with men in need of a little mothering.
"My pleasure,” she murmured, taking the bundle from him. “I'll have them ready for you in the morning."
"Is there an extra charge?” Actually he didn't give a shit, just wanted to keep her there, talking for another minute or two. That wasn't all he wanted, but it was all he was allowed to have. He couldn't let things get complicated.
She shook her head, smiling. “No, Mr. Duncan. I don't usually do laundry, so there's no fee scale. But you said you had a rough trip, and I'm trying to make it better."
Christ, why did she say things like that? His very sore heart clenched a little.
"Sean,” he said. “Call me Sean. And thank you."
Before he could humiliate himself completely, he shut the door and leaned against it, heart thumping heavy and fast. The woman gave me a hard-on taking my laundry. That said volumes about his frustration level.
Forcing himself not to think about it, he clicked on the TV and then lay down. She wasn't kidding when she said this was the place to decompress; they didn't even have cable. Although it wasn't late by his usual standards, he drifted off to something educational on public television.
In the morning, he woke to the lingering smells of bacon and coffee. Ordinarily he found it difficult to sleep in a strange place, but probably the trip had just worn him out. Sean stretched, grabbed his last clean shirt, and opened his door, intending to head for the bathroom next door. He had to admit this didn't feel like a hotel stay, more like he was visiting friends.
He paused when he found his clothes, neatly folded outside his door. They smelled fresh, faintly of lemon, and he put them away with an odd half-smile. There was no competition for the bathroom, so he took a shower and shaved before making his way downstairs, sniffing appreciatively.
"You missed breakfast,” she said, as he came into the kitchen. “But I thought you needed the sleep. How do you take it?"
Fast and hard, right here on the table. An ache sprang up as he let himself think along those lines, like he hadn't in so long. He had no idea what it was about this woman that stirred him up; maybe it was because she didn't know him as half of Sean and Cami. His wife had always wanted him to live with less passion, less intensity. She preferred their life to be as clean as it appeared on the sweet Christmas photo cards they sent out annually. Over the years, she'd trained him not to want things he couldn't have. So Sean was a professional settler, diving into his job to fill up the empty hours, while he tried to forget that he needed so much more.
As Addie poured him a cup of coffee, he sat down at the block table, noting the clock on the far wall. Almost ten a.m. He didn't remember when he'd last slept so late, especially after going to bed early. But he felt fantastic.
"Light cream, heavy sugar.” Sean watched as she added a dash of milk and measured two heaping spoons of sugar into the mug.
"There's bacon left ... I can scramble you some eggs. That'll be quick. Otherwise it's cold cereal for you.” Her smile softened the words so they took on a teasing tone.
"I'll take the eggs. Thanks for doing my clothes last night.” He sipped at his coffee. It was good, fresh ground beans, he thought. Absently he searched the kitchen for the grinder and found it stashed on the counter beside the stove.
"I didn't mind at all,” she said, getting out a frying pan. “I can't have you telling people you had a bad time or that the trip was more trouble than it was worth."
Sean admired her ass as she cooked. “I'm not likely to do that."
Five minutes later, she slid some fluffy yellow eggs onto his plate. She'd diced up green pepper and tomato in them, melted white cheese on top. Just as well he didn't have food allergies, as she fixed things the way she liked them. That didn't bother him, though. There was symmetry to it, like she was willing to do for a man, but on her own terms.
Ordinarily, he didn't care much for eggs, but these were good. Sean wolfed them down, along with three strips of bacon and two pieces of toast, slathered with what she called honey-lemon jelly. He'd never eaten anything quite like it, but the blend of sweet-tartness laid over creamy butter tasted great.
"You like that?” She looked really pleased as she took his empty plate. “We've got a lemon tree out back, so all I need is honey and pectin to make it."
"Yeah, it was delicious. Everything was."
He had the feeling that if he encouraged her, she would give him the recipe and a jar to take home with him. The only women he knew that made their own preserves were sixty-year-old grandmother types. He felt mildly astonished. And full. Right now, he didn't care what secrets she might be hiding. A nap sounded pretty good. Of course maybe that was her strategy, keeping him stuffed and somnolent.
Shit, it's working.
"Checkout is at noon,” she told him gently. “Are you staying another night?"
"I like it here,” he heard himself reply. “You s
aid something about a discount if I stay a full week?"
Sean knew he should call Cami and tell her where he was, but he intended to put that off for the time being. Right now, he felt free for the first time in years. In that regard, a week didn't seem like too much to ask before going home to face the biggest mess of his life. Either way, Cami was going to be fucking furious.
It was time to bring things out into the open. Just ... not today.
"Absolutely.” But her smile flickered as she turned away to rinse his plate. “I'll cut you a special deal since this is the slow season. $300 for the week, and you've already paid $70 on it. It's non-refundable if you get bored and decide to leave early, though."
Talk about mixed signals. She'd definitely been looking at him with interest last night, but this morning, he heard a hint that she wanted him gone. Addie wasn't an actress, though, and her best pretense wasn't good enough to prevent him from seeing through it. She was worried about having him here. As she topped off his coffee, he saw her glance at his wedding ring.
That can't be it.
It couldn't be that simple. Discomfort at finding herself attracted to a married man? But that was merely a formality at this point. He wouldn't be living with Cami again, no matter what he discovered. His cock stirred at the idea, though. It seemed to be saying urgently, Hey, she thinks we're hot, you know how long it's been? He shifted, aggravated with his private parts.
"That sounds good.” Glad she didn't know what he was thinking, Sean fished his wallet out of his back pocket and gave her the difference. Now he was short on cash, but there was nothing to buy out here anyway.
The kitchen phone rang as he managed to subdue his dick. When she answered with a simple, “Hello,” he knew it must be the personal line. He didn't bother trying to pretend he wasn't listening. She paused, then said, “You're shitting me. On route 12?” Another pause, and then: “All right, Ben, okay. I'm getting in the truck and I'm on the way. Okay. Yes. Ten minutes. Bye."
She snatched some keys off a peg board by the terrace doors. “I was going to offer to show you around, but I'm afraid you're on your own. Have a good time!"