Luscious

by Lexi Blake

  Now she remembered. “He said he was arguing with a vendor. He was outside for a long time. I saw the files.”

  “And you looked down at them and pulled Macon’s file. And then you replaced it and walked away without ever glancing inside. Why?”

  “Because it didn’t matter by then. I knew what I needed to know about him. I knew he was a good man.” Those damn tears were back and she wondered how long it would be before she stopped crying over him. “I came here because I wanted to ask him about my brother’s death, but then I got to know him and I couldn’t.”

  Grace stood up and moved around the desk, sitting in the chair beside her. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “I was scared. I didn’t want to lose him.” But she had and she already felt the loss like a hole had opened in her lungs and she couldn’t breathe anymore.

  “You had to know someone would find out.”

  “Why? There weren’t any legal ties to my mom or brother. Why couldn’t I call myself Ally and start over?” It had been a good plan that had gone so very wrong.

  “How many times have you started over?”

  She shrugged. “A couple.”

  “I think you’ve made a habit out of running away,” Grace said softly. “But sometimes you have to stand your ground to start over. Sometimes running away isn’t the answer. Do you love him?”

  Ally nodded, unable to speak.

  “Then leaving is the worst thing you can do.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  A look of determination set in Grace’s hazel eyes. “Then be woman enough to stand up and admit it. Take responsibility and then atone. You don’t have to leave, but you need to figure something out. You need to decide if you’re good for him. You can’t be good for him if you’re hundreds of miles away. I’ve seen that man come alive since he started dating you. He was happy and he can be happy again. He needs time and patience from you. But the last thing he needs is distance and your self-doubt. Do you believe in your heart that you’re good for him?”

  She believed that she loved him. She knew she’d do anything it took to help him achieve his dreams. She was his natural partner, a lover who fit his needs. She’d spent a lifetime thinking she wasn’t good enough. It would be simple to fall into that familiar pattern again, but it wasn’t what Macon needed. She’d seen the way his shoulders had slumped, how his hand had unconsciously gone to his damaged leg as if he could hide it. He didn’t think she’d ever loved him. When he’d thought she loved him, he’d stood taller, walked with more pride. She’d given that to him.

  She had to find a way to give it to him again. “I am good for him.”

  “If you love him, you fight for him.”

  There was only one problem. “I don’t think he wants me anymore.”

  Grace sighed and for a moment it looked like she was lost in some memory. “He doesn’t know what he wants right now, honey. He’s hurt and angry and willing to burn everything down because of it. I should know. I’ve been there. Do you know why I married Sean?”

  “Because you love him.”

  “Yes, obviously. But Sean hurt me in the beginning. I’m with him today because he was patient and he apologized and he never stopped telling me he loved me. He kept saying it until I believed it. I think Macon needs to hear that. He needs to know that you won’t leave. Even when it gets ugly. He needs to know that your love isn’t a currency. You’re not trying to buy something from him.”

  That was all Macon had known. “His wife wanted money and a place in their society.”

  “And what do you want?”

  She searched her heart. There was an easy answer, but it wasn’t the truest one. She wanted Macon, but there was something she wanted even more. When she really went deep she discovered what she wanted beyond everything else. “I want Macon to be happy. I want him to have a good life.”

  Grace put her hand over Ally’s. “Oh, honey. That means you’re really in love and that is worth fighting for. You made a mistake. A big one. That’s not going to go away easy, but it’s time to stop running. It’s time to stand. It’s time to say this is my home and I won’t leave.”

  “And if he still hates me?”

  “Then at least you found a home.” Grace stood. “Now let’s go and eat and we’ll talk this out. That’s what families do.”

  She was crying again, but it was all right. It was better than all right.

  It was time to fight.

  Late in the night she locked the door behind her. She looked around the guesthouse and knew she was alone. There was no Macon in the kitchen puttering around with some new experiment. He wasn’t in the shower or out jogging. He was gone and she knew it before she checked his closet.

  She moved through the house, reliving every moment with him.

  How could she prove that she loved him? How could she make him believe?

  When she got to the kitchen she nearly broke down again. This was where he’d first really kissed her, where they’d decided to move forward. Where she’d lied to him. Where she’d learned to love him.

  She noticed a book sitting by the stove. Macon’s mother’s recipe book. He’d left it. She would have to make sure it got back to him because she knew how precious it was, but first she opened it. Maybe it would give her some kind of look into the woman who had given birth to the man she loved. Macon had only told her that his real mother had died young and he’d been left with a cold father and a stepmother who hadn’t wanted children.

  She flipped through the pages. The recipes weren’t elaborate. This was the cookbook of a housewife, a simple memory book of easy meals and treats likely passed on from her mother and her grandmother. They were written in a neat feminine hand and her eyes teared as she noticed each recipe had one ingredient in common. The last ingredient listed for each dish was the same. Love.

  Somehow, in that moment, she could practically feel this woman reach through time and offer her kindness, asking her to be patient with her boy, to give him what he truly needed. Love. Somehow, someway this book was meant for her. She was the next in line. Macon might be an artist, but she would be the one to cook for their children.

  She wiped her eyes and selected a recipe. Snickerdoodles. They would be a good start. She found the ingredients and got to work.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Macon stared at the pie on the counter. It was the sixth offering this week. It sat there with its slightly crooked lattice crust. She was impatient with it. That type of crust required a very precise hand. The presentation was less than perfect and he couldn’t help but want a taste.

  But then he also wanted a taste of the woman who had made it.

  Why the hell wouldn’t she leave him alone?

  “Oh, what do we have today?” Jake was straightening his tie as he entered the kitchen. His eyes had immediately gone to the counter.

  “Apple,” Serena said as she offered Jake a mug of coffee. “It was still warm when Macon brought it in so I think she’s having trouble sleeping.”

  Was she sitting up all night baking?

  Jake took the mug from her and his free hand wound around her waist, pulling her close. “I don’t know about that. All I know is while Ally makes a mean pie, it’s not yours, baby. You’ve got the best pie in the entire world and I can never get enough of it.”

  He took his wife’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

  And Macon rolled his eyes because Serena didn’t bake. The last week had been a horrible trial. Living with his brother, Jake, and Serena meant continually watching either Jake or Adam trying to get into their wife’s pants. They were like horny teenage boys. And Tristan pooped a lot. The kid was cute, but damn he could stink up a room, and half the time Macon was left holding a grinning baby with a diaper full of poo because the three of them were getting it on now that they had a babysitter. They’d treated him like glass that first night, but after two days of tiptoeing around him, his family seemed to figure out that double penetration was way easier when someone was watchi
ng the baby and Uncle Macon was put to work.

  He’d spent most of his time sitting with Tristan and talking about Ally. That kid knew more about his relationship with Ally than anyone should. Luckily, he just drooled a lot and tried to eat his own fist.

  This was what he was reduced to. His only confidant was a baby and the woman of his dreams was a yard away making dessert after dessert and leaving it on his doorstep. He’d woken up the morning after he’d discovered her lie and there had been a plate of cookies waiting for him. She’d wrapped it in foil with a note. For Macon.

  Nothing else. He hadn’t touched them. He’d brought them in and put them on the counter and walked away. When he’d gotten to work and found her there, he’d ignored her completely. He’d kept his head down and done his job and she’d done hers. She hadn’t sought him out, hadn’t come by his station. The one time they’d locked eyes accidently, she’d given him the saddest smile like she’d known he wasn’t playing her games anymore.

  He’d gotten a ride with Eric and thought it was all over.

  He’d been greeted the next day with a vanilla cake with simple chocolate frosting. For Macon.

  How much did she think he ate?

  “Hey, you two. How about I get in on that action?” Adam was carrying Tristan as he entered the kitchen. He looked down at the counter. “Nice. I’ll take that up to the office. Ian is starting to think this argument between you and Ally is the best thing to happen to him.”

  McKay-Taggart was benefitting from the end of what had to be the shortest engagement in history. Adam or Jake simply picked up whatever he left on the counter and took it to work and put the pie or cake or cookies in the break room where it was devoured by hungry agents.

  Jake stepped back and took Tristan from Adam, hauling the baby up and giving him kisses that had him giggling at his dad. “Ian wants to put in a request for more lemon.”

  “Ian can bite me,” Macon said, his surliness showing. He wasn’t going to march across the lawn and encourage Ally.

  “I would watch out,” Serena replied. “Ian likes to bite. I’ll go out and ask Ally if she can put something lemony in her rotation.”

  This whole conversation irritated him. “When did Ally become your damn personal baker? Excuse me. Sarah. Let’s use her real name.”

  “She prefers Ally. It’s her middle name,” Serena explained. “She really wants to make a break from her past.”

  He narrowed his eyes, staring at his sister-in-law. “And how would you know that?”

  If Serena was intimidated, he couldn’t tell. “I went over to see if she was all right. You know, only a couple of times. A day.” She shook her head and planted her foot on the hardwood floor, pointing a judgmental finger his way. “She’s my friend. Just because she made one phenomenally stupid mistake doesn’t change that. If I cut people out of my life because they did stupid things, I would have no friends. And yes, I’m looking at you, Jacob Dean.”

  Now Jake was staring at Macon with what Macon liked to think of as his satanic, soul-claiming face. He was fairly certain Jake used that face right before he killed people. “Thanks for reminding her, brother. My day’s blown. Let’s get to the office, buddy.”

  Three days a week, Tristan went to the office with his dads when they weren’t out on assignment. Ian Taggart had turned one of the unused conference rooms into a daycare center. The other two days Tristan stayed home with Mom. They liked to say it was the best of both worlds. Serena got to work and be with her boy and so did Jake and Adam.

  He wasn’t going to have a kid like Tristan. And it was all Ally’s fault. Before Adam could pick up the pie, Macon grabbed it. It was time to show Ally that he wasn’t playing around.

  “Tell Ian the bakery’s closed.”

  “I think he’s moved into his anger phase,” Jake whispered to Adam.

  “Kai warned us this would happen.” Adam was frowning his way.

  He clutched the stupid, probably-had-too-much-cinnamon-in-it pie. Had she even used ice water for the crust or had she thought cold tap would be enough? “You’re the one who started this, brother. You want to tell me why you’re looking at me like I’m the bad guy? And why is Kai saying anything? Does he not understand patient-client confidentiality?”

  He was really tired of everyone having an opinion. He’d heard it from Eric and Javier and the line chefs. Poor Ally. She looks tired. She seems so sad.

  The other servers had stopped talking to him with the exception of Deena, who still communicated but seemed to think four-letter words and dirty hand gestures were appropriate.

  He was the fucking victim here.

  “I called Kai because I was worried about you,” Adam explained. “You’ve completely shut down. And don’t think I am not fully aware of the part I played. I acted hastily. I was trying to protect you but I should have brought the problem to the group and figured out how to handle it. Macon, sometimes it’s more important why a person lied than that they lied in the first place. I think we should talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to talk. I want to do my job and live my life and I want to do it without that woman.” He couldn’t even say her name sometimes.

  But he could dream about her. He dreamed about her every single night. He saw her gorgeous face as she worked over him, her lips mouthing the words “I love you.”

  “I’m going to get Tristan in his car seat,” Jake said, his face grim. “Please come help me, baby.”

  Serena nodded and followed him out, leaving him alone with his brother.

  “You’re not only mad at her,” Adam began. “You’re mad at me and I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m not mad at you.” Adam had done what any good brother would have done. He’d brought him the truth. He’d shown him the facts and saved him from making a damn fool of himself.

  “Of course you are and until you acknowledge it, it’s going to be difficult around here.”

  Well, he should have seen that coming. “I’ll find a place of my own then. I wouldn’t want to make your life difficult.”

  “You see. Right there. You take everything I say in the worst possible manner. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not angry. Hell, I’m not really even angry with her. She did what she needed to do to get the information she wanted. I suppose now she thinks she’s found a cushy place to land and she doesn’t want to lose it.”

  “Are you talking about living in our guesthouse?”

  “It’s nice, especially to a woman like her. She’s never had much of anything so she’s hungry for some comfort and she’ll fuck the first guy who can give it to her.” It was the only explanation as to why she was still trying.

  Adam’s eyes rolled. “Yeah, buddy. You’re a catch. You live in your brother’s guesthouse, have zero money saved, and don’t even own a car. She’s totally after your wealth.”

  But Ally had a car. Between them they had a place to stay, a heap of junk car, and three and a quarter legs. Ally wouldn’t let him forget that quarter leg. It was an asset, she would say. Had she said it to get close to him?

  “Fuck you, Adam.” He wasn’t going down that road again.

  Adam nodded. “Yes, that’s better. Yell at me. Get it out. I know we were taught to shove everything down, but that’s not what we should do. You don’t cure a boil by pushing it under the skin. You lance that fucker and let it all hang out. That’s the only way you’re going to heal. Say it. Tell me how I screwed up your life.”

  He shook his head stubbornly. “You didn’t. You helped me. Although I will admit you’re annoying me now. If you want me to leave, I wish you would say it.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “Home. I talked to Dad last night. He’s willing to offer me a job.”

  Adam’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re willing to go back there? To a father who dumped you at your lowest moment?” His brother’s expression was so hurt, Macon al
most took the words back. “And you say you’re not angry with me.”

  Adam shook his head and walked out toward the garage.

  He didn’t understand. Adam had always been the smart one. He’d been the rebel, able to shove aside everything. Macon had given in. He’d chosen comfort over Adam when they were younger. He’d let Ronnie blow his own head off. He’d been stupid enough to believe Ally’s lies.

  At least he could do one thing. He could break his silence with Ally. She hadn’t taken the hint. He clutched the pie and strode to the backdoor. All he could think about as he made it to the grass was telling Ally he didn’t need her damn pie. He could make his own pie. Hell, he could buy a pie if he really wanted one, but he wasn’t ever touching her pie again. He wasn’t going to taste her sweetness and eat a piece like a starving man. No. She’d ruined pie for him, or maybe it had been the numerous sexual references his brother seemed to make about pie, but it didn’t matter. Pie sucked. He didn’t eat pie any more so she could keep her fucking sweet ass pie to herself. Or give it away to the next idiot. He didn’t care.

  He tripped, not looking where he was going, and cursed his fucking leg as he fell to the ground. His not leg. His fucked up, blown to shit body that only one woman had ever really wanted.

  The pie fell to the ground, glass pan cracking and sending the insides all over the grass.

  He tried to get up, but he stumbled again, his leg unable to move the way he needed it to.

  “Macon!” Ally’s face suddenly loomed over him.

  And he wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt him.

  * * * *

  Ally had seen him walking across the yard like a man on a mission. She’d taken a deep breath because she’d been waiting for it. She’d been waiting for the moment when he finally confronted her. She’d thought it would go one of two ways. He’d either realize he forgave her and couldn’t stay away a moment longer or he would realize he couldn’t stand two more seconds without telling her what a lying bitch she was.