by Sabrina Sol
He had.
Insulting one of the people you needed to approve your multi-million dollar project was probably an automatic rejection stamp. The Miami deal was as good as dead.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he said as he bounced the back of his head off the driver’s seat headrest. He cursed one more time before getting out of his car and walking up to the condo’s front door. Before he opened it, he took another deep breath.
Push it down. Put it aside. Do whatever you have to do to forget about what happened for a little while.
It was time to celebrate his mom’s last radiation treatment.
The past six weeks had flown by. The restaurant had been busier than ever, and, honestly, having Daisy around to take care of his mom’s needs—and his own—had made the days and nights go faster. If he hadn’t been dealing with all this bullshit with the Miami deal, he would’ve said the last two months hadn’t been as painful as he’d feared. If anything—his mother’s sickness aside—they’d been downright wonderful.
As soon as he walked through the door, the most incredible smell overwhelmed him. He recognized it in an instant.
Asopoa.
Light laughter danced from the kitchen, and he followed it and the wonderful smell.
“Oh, good, you’re finally here,” his mother announced as he entered the kitchen. She was standing at the stove stirring a large pot still on the burner.
“Hey there.” Daisy appeared from behind her and moved to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “How was your day?”
He was thinking of how to respond when she touched his arm. “That bad, huh?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he whispered in her ear and stole another kiss. Then he walked over to his mom and kissed the side of her head. “I want to know how you’re feeling, Mamá, but first I have to ask. Am I smelling what I think I’m smelling?”
She smiled proudly and nodded. “It is. But I didn’t make it. Daisy did.”
Brandon whipped his head around to look back at Daisy, who was now pulling bowls from a cabinet. “You made asopao?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
“Well, I mean, you’ve never, well, it’s just that…Okay, yeah, I’m a little surprised.”
His mother took the bowls from Daisy. “I wanted to make you a special dinner and Daisy suggested asopao con pollo and some tostones. But she didn’t want me to tire myself out so I sat at the table and told her what to do, step by step.”
The fact that she’d remembered how much he loved this dish warmed him as if he’d already taken a spoonful. She was full of surprises tonight, wasn’t she?
“Okay, before we get all gaga over Daisy’s cooking, it might be a good idea to actually taste it first,” Daisy told him. “Your mom, and I say this with the utmost respect, was a drill sergeant with her instructions. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t find a way to fuu…um, ruin it anyway.”
He laughed at her wide-eyed anxiety, and it loosened some of the knots tied in his neck and shoulders. When Daisy had called him earlier to make sure he could come home for a quick dinner, he’d actually gritted his teeth since he had the conference call planned with the commissioner. But now, standing in his kitchen, smelling the asopao and watching Lorena and Daisy chat as if they’d known each other forever, Brandon couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be.
After pouring some of the asopao, with generous pieces of chicken, into a bowl for him, Lorena filled two more for herself and Daisy. Then the three of them sat down at the kitchen table and dug in.
Brandon closed his eyes as the explosion of flavors hit his taste buds. The pieces of tender chicken and soft rice practically melted in his mouth amid the warm broth carrying the distinct tastes of tomato, peppers, garlic, and olive oil. The combination left him both satisfied and hungry for more. It still wasn’t exactly his mamá’s asopao. But that didn’t matter. This version was Daisy’s and that brought a comfort to him he’d never expected.
“Well?” Daisy’s voice interrupted his savoring. He opened his eyes and saw her and his mamá staring at him, their spoons still on the table and their bowls untouched.
He carefully nodded in appreciation. “It’s…good. Actually, it’s pretty fantastic.”
Both of the women sighed in relief and smiled at each other.
It wasn’t until he was scraping the remnants in the bottom of his bowl that he remembered to also try the tostones. Once he did he was sorry that he hadn’t enjoyed them with his soup. The twice-fried plantains were crispy and light with a dusting of salt and…maybe garlic? As soon as he finished his first one, he put his second one in his mouth and readied the third between his fingers.
“Oh, wow,” he said with his mouth full. “These are so addictive. I think you need to make these every day, Daisy.”
She grinned at him. “Again, all your mother. I was just the worker bee.”
“He’s right, Daisy,” Lorena chimed in. “These are wonderful. Mine sometimes come out too salty or too oily. These are perfect.”
Brandon nodded and popped a fourth into his mouth. “Okay, I’m ready for seconds. Anyone else?”
Both of them raised their hands.
About thirty minutes later, they had finally had their fill. Lorena went to her bedroom to lie down, and Brandon and Daisy cleaned up and put the leftovers away. As he watched her wipe down the table, a feeling of contentment drifted through him. And when she bent over in order to reach the center, another feeling zinged straight to his dick.
He moved behind her, grabbed her hips and pulled her ass against him.
She gasped and stood straight up. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “Your mom might walk in and see us.”
“So? We’re engaged remember? This is a perfectly acceptable way for engaged people to act.”
“And when you turn around to talk to her, you’ll be perfectly comfortable with her seeing what’s making a dent in my back right now?”
Well, when she put it that way. “Fine. Then how about we go upstairs and get in the exact same position naked?”
“I thought you had to go back to the restaurant?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a quickie?”
She turned in his arms to face him. “You’re always so romantic, aren’t you?”
He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Sorry. It’s just that being inside you would really help me forget the shit that happened today.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah, uh-oh. I’ll spare you the ugly details. But let’s just say I highly doubt Miami is going to be home to the new Cuchara restaurant.”
Saying the words out loud gutted him. His failure was a bitter taste to swallow, especially after such a delicious meal. How could he have lost his temper like that? He knew better. He’d done better hundreds of times before. Why was this one call so different?
Because you were late for dinner.
It was true that he’d felt rushed to get off the phone because he knew Daisy and his mamá were waiting for him. Of course, they couldn’t have known that he’d already had a ridiculously busy day, or that he had to push off a few things in order to come home to eat. And it wasn’t their fault that he’d agreed to it even though he knew he’d have to talk to the commissioner while he was driving.
But if he was still living as a bachelor with nothing or no one to come home to, he probably would’ve handled everything differently, starting by taking the call in his office, with a stack of files to refer to whenever the commissioner asked him a question.
He knew better, and he should’ve prepared better. And he should’ve been more than just a little bit aggravated that Daisy had expected him to drop everything and come home just to eat a bowl of soup.
But he’d been having so much fun playing house the past few weeks that he’d let some of his focus and responsibilities slide. That couldn’t happen anymore.
Brandon, realizing that he was still holding her, abruptly dropped his hands and stepped back. “It’
s getting late. I should go back to the restaurant.”
Her puzzled expression did nothing to squelch his growing impatience. He had to get back to work. Why couldn’t she understand that?
“You sure you’re okay? If the day was as bad as you said, then why don’t you take the night off?”
“It’s my restaurant, Daisy. I can’t just take the night off without making sure certain things are done and someone is there who can handle any emergencies.”
“What about Alexa? She’s there, too. Why can’t you ask her to handle things?”
And that’s when the wall he’d built to keep the day’s annoyances at bay cracked. Hadn’t he made it perfectly clear to her by now that his restaurants were his priority? And now that he’d let the Miami deal slip through his fingers and he’d more than likely lose his initial investment, it was more important than ever to make sure L.A. Cuchara continued to bring in money to the company. People were depending on him to make sure that happened. People like his mamá and Alex.
The words spilled out before he could stop them. “Are you serious? I’m sorry, but how many businesses do you have again? That’s right. When your one business starts making the money that mine do, then maybe you can start offering me some career advice. Until then, I think I know what’s best for my restaurants.”
His tone was as harsh as it had been with the commissioner. At least, he hadn’t called her a name outright. Judging the by the redness of her face and her pinched expression he might as well have.
“God, Brandon. You really know how to convince someone not to have quickie with you. Go to the restaurant then. No one here needs you anyway.”
With that, she threw the dishtowel she’d been using onto the table and stomped upstairs. Brandon swore under his breath so his mother wouldn’t hear, headed out the front door, and got back into his car.
How dare she try to tell him how to run his business? Just because she was pretending to be his fake fiancée, and pretending to care about how he felt, didn’t give her the right to butt her nose in where it didn’t belong.
He was fuming as he pulled out of his driveway. But as he approached the exit gate for the community, the anger had begun to dissipate. The more he thought about the dinner she’d made and the way she’d laughed with his mamá, the more he realized that there were some things Daisy wasn’t pretending.
She had been worried about him and had only tried to help.
Brandon pulled over to the curb, turned off the ignition and closed his eyes.
Maybe the planning commissioner had acted like a prick. But it turned out that Brandon was the biggest one of them all.
Daisy stepped into the shower and hissed as the hot spray made contact with her skin. The temperature hovered between painful and perfect. It was exactly what she needed to help distract her from the torpedo of emotions Brandon had launched with his tirade downstairs.
That was the last time she’d ever ask about his restaurant issues again. And definitely the last time she’d work so hard to cook him dinner. From now on he could eat at the restaurant by himself. Hell, he could even sleep there if he wanted to. Why the hell should she care?
She hated to admit how badly his words had stung. Instead she’d rather stand under the stream of water as it washed her embarrassing tears away. She forced herself to concentrate on her lunch meeting with Mira tomorrow. They were going to finalize a list of possible wedding locations. Thinking about that and some other pending contracts helped her regain some sense of control.
So what if Brandon didn’t appreciate everything she’d been doing lately? She didn’t agree to this fake engagement in order to be a confidante or partner. She’d done it to make her own business a success.
Stop worrying about him so much and focus on what’s best for you. That’s all that matters anyway.
Daisy had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the shower door click open. So she jumped when Brandon said her name.
“Holy shit!” she yelled and whipped around. He was standing in the shower with her, naked and looking grim. “What the hell are you doing? You scared the crap out of me. I thought you left.”
He didn’t answer her with words. Instead, he moved and wrapped his arms around her wet body and pulled her into him. Her anger from before returned. If he thought she was in the mood for a quickie now, after everything that had happened, he was going to have a rude and very uncomfortable awakening.
She left her arms at her side and stiffened her back. The hot water pelted them as they stool in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Despite her determination to stay unaffected, her body started to betray her. Her nipples pebbled against his hard chest and her sex tightened as his thick erection pressed into her belly. Her willpower weakened with every second until she couldn’t take it anymore and finally slid her arms around his back.
She felt his body sag, and he squeezed her tighter. “I’m so sorry. I’m a giant ass. Please forgive me.”
The tears fell again and she was grateful that water still rained down her face. He couldn’t know how he’d hurt her. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me anything,” she said, and pressed her cheek against his upper arm.
He rubbed circles on her back and kissed the side of her head. “I owe you everything, Daisy.”
“I shouldn’t have pressed you to come home tonight. You obviously had bigger things to worry about than a stupid dinner. It won’t happen again.”
“Stop.” Brandon maneuvered them out of the shower spray and pulled away so he could look at her. “Stop, okay? You have every right to be pissed off and hurt. You did something nice for me and I basically crapped all over it. Yes, I had a busy and fucked up day. But coming home to eat one of my favorite dishes with two of my favorite women kind of made it all better. You made it all better, and I’m sorry that I never said thank you.”
She looked into his eyes and could see he meant every word. God, she was such a sucker for heartfelt apologies, especially when they were made by gorgeous men who were holding her naked.
“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“Anything,” he said. “Just name it.”
Daisy reached up and settled her hands on his broad shoulders. “Kiss me.”
Brandon groaned before slamming his lips onto her hers. She felt his hands move down her back to grab her ass. Throaty sighs escaped from both of them as he palmed and squeezed each cheek, grinding himself against her slickened upper thigh. Shivers traveled down her back despite the warm sprays of water still splashing against it.
He lowered his lips to her ear. “Let’s get clean now so we can get very dirty later.” He reached behind her to grab the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower rack. With a flick of his thumb, he popped open the top and took a sniff. “Strawberry?”
“Berries and other natural botanicals,” she quoted.
“Whatever it is, I love the way it makes your hair smell. Turn around.”
She obeyed and waited with bated breath for his next move. A cool drip slid down the back of her head, filling the enclosed space with a sweet combination of fruity fragrances. Daisy closed her eyes as Brandon began massaging the shampoo into her hair, lulling her into a relaxed stupor. When it was time to rinse, she moved only because Brandon moved her. She murmured something about conditioner and he seemed to understand. Soon his magic fingers were back in her hair and she turned to mush all over again.
But her body zinged back to life as soon as she felt hot, soapy hands on her shoulders.
“What are you doing now?” she asked and looked up at him with a half smile.
“It’s time to wash your body,” he said, both serious and teasing.
“You know, the loofah pad is right over there in the corner.”
“I’m more of a hands-on type of guy, if you know what I mean.”
And in case there was any doubt, he slid his palms down to her chest until they cupped her breasts. Then he began to rub.
Her nipples puckered in response to the glorious pressure and she gasped. Drops of water trickled inside her mouth and she instinctively licked her lips. Then Brandon licked them too.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Now, back to washing,” he murmured.
As promised, he continued to lather the rest of her chest and stomach before moving to arms and back. With each stroke on her skin, he stirred a fire beneath it. She was sure her core temperature burned hotter than the water by now.
She wondered if she could take much more.
“Put your right leg on the bench seat,” he said, his voice rough and thick.
She did again as he commanded. Did she really have a choice? His touch, the intimacy of the moment, had made her drunk on her own arousal. All she could do was blush. No man had ever done anything like this to her before. She felt worshipped.
Brandon knelt on one knee before her and languidly slid his lathered palm from her ankle up her calf, rotating his wrist to ensure he soaped every inch. He moved to the top of her thigh and it trembled back. But when his fingers slid underneath it, her entire body shuddered in pleasure.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
He switched hands and brushed soap over her other leg. She watched from above, entranced and enflamed all at the same time, as he took his time to generously lather her. And when he finally moved his hands to between her legs, she was rendered speechless.
Brandon slid his fingers across her folds. Back and forth. Side to side. His touch was light but devastating. Without thinking, she began to move her hips to his rhythm.
“Fuck, Daisy. Do you know I much want to suck this beautiful pussy?”
The rawness of his voice made her ache, ache, with need.
“I do,” she said, surprised by the deepness of her own tone, “because it’s probably as much as I want you to.”
He looked up at her and their eyes locked in a flash of mutual desire. Daisy was so turned on she was ready to do whatever he wanted. The man could’ve asked for anything and not only would she do it, she would thank him later for the privilege.
Instead, he stopped touching her and stood up. Before she could collapse in disappointment, Brandon put his hands on both sides of her head and found her lips. Their mouths opened so their tongues could lick and play with each other.