by Terri Osburn
All he could think was that he wanted to be the reason she looked that way.
“Nick?” she said, returning to the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “Are you coming?”
His inner twelve-year-old had a response to that but Nick managed to keep him quiet.
“I am.”
He joined her in the kitchen and an overload of delicious smells assailed him. Garlic, fennel, and red wine, plus a few others he couldn’t pin down. When Nick stepped up behind her at the counter, intending to drop a kiss on her neck, Lauren spun with a spoon in her hand.
“Taste this.”
Before he could react, the puree hit his tongue. “Potato and…?”
“Celery root,” she replied. “Does it need more salt? I can’t tell. I tasted so many different dishes today that my taste buds are on overload.”
“No, it’s just right.” Where did she find celery root at this time of year? “How did you—”
A timer went off and Lauren slid away to reach for a red-and-white oven mitt. “Perfect timing,” she said, pulling a pan of Brussels sprouts from the oven. She sniffed deeply over the pan before setting it on a tea towel. “I hope you like garlic because it’s my favorite thing ever and I like a lot of it on my food.”
You could never have too much garlic.
“I’m good with that.”
Lauren grabbed two tall glasses. “This place didn’t come with wineglasses so I hope this works.”
He wasn’t picky about his glassware. “They’ll be fine.”
“Great.” She shoved the glasses into his hands. “Then put these on the table and grab some silverware from that last drawer over there. I’ll get this dished up and be right in.”
If Nick didn’t know any better, he’d think the woman was in a hurry. “Is there a race I don’t know about?”
“I just want to eat before it gets cold.” She planted a quick kiss on his lips before adding, “And then we can get on with our night.”
The brow wiggle made him laugh. So they were on the same page. Somewhat.
“I’ll have the table set and be ready when you are.”
Giving him a pat on the ass as he walked away, she said, “That’s the spirit.”
Though he’d like to think the idea of sex with him had put her in such a good mood, Nick guessed things must also be going well at the restaurant. He was still pouring the wine she’d already put on the table when Lauren breezed in, plates in hand.
“Dinner is served,” she announced. “We have tuna steaks with a red wine sauce, the celery root-potato puree you already tasted, and roasted Brussels sprouts in garlic.” She set the large platter on the table. “Let me grab the napkins and we’ll be set.”
Dashing back to the kitchen, she returned almost at a run and Nick caught her by the hand.
“You can slow down. We have all night.”
Blushing, she toyed with a button on his shirt. “This is your fault. I’ve been thinking about this for two days.”
Teasing, he said, “And yet you put garlic in the food.”
As the realization dawned, her eyes went wide. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Nick nuzzled her ear. “If you have mouthwash, we’ll be fine.”
She leaned her head to the side, offering him better access to her soft skin. “I have a whole bottle.” When his lips trailed down to the top of her shoulder, she murmured, “Or we can eat after.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “We both know these Brussels sprouts won’t be good if we leave them here.” Putting space between them, Nick said, “Let’s eat.”
Her sigh of disappointment was appreciated as they took their seats. The amazing smell had not prepared him for the rush of flavor that hit his taste buds. The fish was perfectly seasoned, the balance of acid to sweet spot-on. Lauren knew how to make a protein the star of the dish while choosing complimentary sides that both enhanced the plate and elevated the overall taste.
“Tell me you’re putting this on your menu.”
“I’ll consider it, but I made this specifically for you.”
He stopped in mid cut. “For me?”
Lauren reached for her wine. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had this weird way of knowing what food a person will like. At age six I knew my mom’s favorite way to have eggs without her telling me, and on the rare occasions that we got to eat out, I always ordered for my brother and just knew what he’d want.” After taking a sip, she added, “I didn’t think anything of it until I went to culinary school and got to cook for other people. I could look at them and know what to make.”
Nick looked at his plate and realized he’d never had this combination before, yet every bite felt familiar. Almost comforting.
“So you’re a fairy godmother chef?”
“Joke all you want, but you’re already thinking about how often you can have this dish.”
She wasn’t wrong. “Do you picture the specific dish or just the flavors and create something from there?”
“The flavors, mostly. Like I knew you’d enjoy something warm and comfortable but with a lighter protein and a rich base. Put those ideas together and voila, you get this meal.”
“That’s a gift,” he said. “And what cooking is all about. Giving people something that makes them happy on a plate.”
Lauren looked both proud and embarrassed. “That’s what my mentor said when he sponsored me for Le Cordon Bleu. They have a scholarship program and if he hadn’t told me about it, I never would have even applied. As a poor kid from Worcester who’d worked her way up through the line, I never thought they’d let me in.” With a head tilt, she said, “Did you ever think of going to culinary school?”
A subject he preferred to avoid, since he wasn’t proud of his answer. “I didn’t. Dad had me in the kitchen as soon as I was tall enough to stand at a prep station. By the time I graduated high school, I figured I already knew everything they’d teach me so why waste the time and money?” Sliding a bite of tuna through the sauce, he added, “I also had a restaurant to run, though the guy Mom hired to keep the place going after Dad died tried to keep me out.”
“That’s shitty. What was his problem?”
“He thought I was an inexperienced kid who would run the place into the ground. Turns out he was right.” Changing the subject, Nick said, “Did you go back to that mentor after graduation?”
She shook her head. “He promised me a guaranteed position but ended up selling the place and retiring to the South of France while I was still in school. The new chef felt no obligation to honor a promise he never made.”
Now that was shitty. “He should have at least given you a chance.”
Visibly shutting down, she examined her wineglass. “I had a reputation among the rest of the crew who were still there.” Meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “Not a positive one.”
Nick wanted to know more but could tell she wasn’t interested in elaborating. Seeking a new, more positive topic, he asked, “How are things going with the staff? Is everyone on board now?”
Lauren swallowed the bite she’d taken before answering. “Yes, and I still owe you for that. If we hadn’t gone up to the adventure park, I doubt I’d even have a staff right now. They’ve worked their tails off the last two days. We’re still tweaking the dishes, but I’ve got food deliveries coming later in the week so we’ll be ready with fresh food and a solid menu when the doors open.”
“I’ve seen fliers posted around the island, and the locals are already talking about trying it out.”
She stopped chewing. “They are?”
Nick didn’t know why she was surprised. “Of course, they are. The Marina was dated but still popular before the remodel, and Will and Randy are practically royalty on the island so anything they touch gets plenty of support. Plus, they’ve heard about you and what you plan to offer.”
“What have they heard?”
“That you’re a fancy big city chef.” He stabbed a Brussels sprout with his fo
rk. “And that your food is amazing.”
She nearly choked on her tuna. “How would they hear that? I haven’t even served anything yet.”
“You said you’ve been tasting dishes with the staff.” Nick cut his last piece of tuna. “They must be talking and word travels fast in this little village.”
Lauren didn’t need to know that Nick had been doing some talking of his own, dropping a hint here and there about her skills. Now that he’d had a full meal, he was relieved to find his preliminary reviews had been accurate.
“I was already nervous about all the press Will has lined up.” She dropped the fork and knife onto her plate and reached for her wine again. “Now I have the locals expectations to live up to? Yeah. No pressure.”
As she emptied her glass, Nick rose from his chair and took the glass from her hand. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I’m going to stress the hell out is what I’m going to do.”
Taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet. “Then it’ll be my job to get you unstressed.”
Skepticism showed in her eyes when she said, “How are you going to do that?”
Nick reached for the front of her shirt. “One button at a time.”
Nick Stamatis was very good at relieving stress. By the time he’d carried her to the bedroom—which was a first for her—Lauren could barely remember her own name let alone think about the restaurant. As promised, he’d taken his time, despite her nearly begging for him to hurry. He’d ignored her pleas, preferring instead to explore her body as if she were some uncharted territory that he’d recently discovered. By the time he’d touched, teased, and tasted every inch of her, Lauren’s mind had turned to mush.
“Feeling better?” he asked as she lay sprawled across his chest.
As if all of her moaning and purring and the two times she’d screamed his name hadn’t given him a clue.
“Much better.” She turned her head to see his face. “You were very thorough.”
“You’re welcome.” Nick played with a lock of her hair. “I like you, Riley.”
She certainly hoped so considering their current circumstances. “Thanks. You’re growing on me too.”
“Do you ever see yourself having children?”
Not the question she expected. Lauren rolled into a sitting position and pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. “Where the hell did that come from? I thought you didn’t do relationships.”
They were in this bed for that very reason. Because neither of them did relationships. Which sounded like a contradiction, but the sex came with an understanding. That’s all it was. Just sex. If he’d changed his mind…
“I’m not asking you to have my babies,” Nick said, but the expression on his face didn’t match the words coming out of his mouth. The expression said this matters. That this was more than two adults enjoying each other. “Seriously,” he said, pulling her back to him. “It was just a question. Looking at those old family pictures brought back memories and I just wondered what it must be like to have kids now. The world is so different from when we were young.”
Lauren wasn’t exactly an old woman. “What do you mean when we were young? I’m only thirty-one. It’s not like video games and the internet were invented in the last few years.”
Nick lifted an arm to rest above his head and she was temporarily distracted by how hot he was.
“Well, I’m thirty-six and I remember when kids actually played outside. And read books made of paper.”
“Then you’re ancient,” she said, and earned a gentle bite on the shoulder. “To answer your question, no, I don’t. I pretty much raised my brother. That was enough for me.”
Dark eyes widened. “Really? You don’t want kids?”
She didn’t say that. He asked if she ever imagined herself having children. She would not repeat her mother’s mistakes and have a kid without a husband. A husband meant marriage. Marriage required trust. Lauren would have to find someone who wouldn’t cut and run when things got tough, or worse, play the nice guy role until the deal was done, and then start using his fists every time something didn’t go his way.
Growing up around violence left a mark on your soul that never went away. She wouldn’t do that to herself, or to an innocent child. But growing up poor wasn’t a walk in the park either and she had no doubt if left to raise a child on her own, she’d fall right back into the cycle that had plagued her own childhood.
Even if she found a Mr. Mom who didn’t mind bearing the brunt of child-rearing while she worked the hours being a chef required, Lauren would have to trust that he’d stick around for the duration. In her experience, men didn’t do that.
Keeping the truth to herself, she said, “I take it you do?”
Nick went quiet as his eyes settled on something behind her. Finally, he said, “I don’t know. I didn’t plan on it.”
One ambitious bout of sex with her could not have changed his mind on something so important.
“Are you having a midlife crisis?” she asked.
His eyes caught hers. “What?”
“Well…” She glanced up, doing a quick calculation. “If you live to be seventy-two, then you’re in the middle right now.”
A smile of pure joy split his face. “I could live to be seventy-two. Or maybe eighty-two.”
“Why not go for ninety-two?” she said with a laugh.
With one swift move, he flipped her onto her back and hovered above her. “I think I will. But right now, what do you say we go for two?”
Panic tightened her gut. “Kids?” Lauren squeaked.
Nick’s bark of laughter filled the room. “I meant sex,” he mumbled, nuzzling into her shoulder. “You’re something else, Riley.”
She would have offered a witty comeback, but his lips were quickly sliding down below the sheet. “I’m… I… Ooh…”
Seconds later, kids were the furthest thing from her mind.
14
Lauren fought off exhaustion as she parked her car in front of a small building with a bright-pink awning over the door and the words Sweet Opal’s Bakery & Confections emblazoned across the front window. This was apparently the site of some Tuesday ritual where Roxie and the other ladies, whom Lauren had started referring to as the gang, gathered to gab, gossip, and unwind with their favorite treats.
At least that’s how Roxie had described the evening while insisting that Lauren should join them. Pilar’s opened in less than a week and she’d have preferred to be in the kitchen, perfecting every dish down to the garnish, but Jackson had assured her that they could carry on for one evening without her. The others had tried to hide their relief when she’d slipped off her chef’s jacket to go, but Lauren didn’t hold it against them. No one had voiced a single complaint since the adventure park trip, and she’d been pushing them hard over the last few days.
She hadn’t seen Nick since he’d left her place Monday morning. She’d expected him to leave some time during the night, but he’d stayed until she’d risen to go to work. Lauren wasn’t sure how she felt about that. At least he hadn’t brought up the kids thing again.
“We’re over here,” called Roxie from a table at the end of the patio. Will and Beth were already there, along with two little girls Lauren hadn’t seen before. “Have a seat.” Roxie tapped the white metal chair beside her.
A huge umbrella blocked the sun and shifted every time the little girl with the curly hair pushed at the table. She looked to be testing how much the thing could withstand.
“That’s enough, Mary Ann,” Beth said. “You promised me you’d behave.”
“But I’m bored. I want my cupcake.”
“You have to wait until the others arrive.” To Will, she said, “I shouldn’t have left the house so early.”
“I’ll take her in to see if Opal has any specials today.” Will stood and offered her hand to the little girl, who took it and then skipped across the patio without a care in the world.
To Lauren’s surprise, the o
ther little girl, the smaller of the two, shuffled around Roxie’s chair and said, “Up.” Two chubby arms hovered in the air, waiting for the order to be followed.
Lauren looked at the other two women. “Does she want me to pick her up?”
“You don’t have to,” Beth said. “Daphne, honey, come sit with Mommy.”
The cherub didn’t budge. “Up,” she said again.
Roxie lifted the little one onto her lap, but she slid right off and made her demand one more time to Lauren. Admiring the child’s grit, she gave in. Once on the target lap, she stuck a thumb in her mouth and leaned back against Lauren’s chest as if this was an everyday thing.
“I’m sorry,” Beth said. “She never meets a stranger, as you can tell.”
“I don’t mind.” And oddly, she didn’t. Daphne’s wavy brown hair smelled like strawberries, while her chubby cheeks puffed in and out as she sucked on the tiny digit. Lauren pictured having a little girl of her own. Would she have blond hair, like hers, or maybe dark like Nick’s?
Stunned by the unwelcome conjecture, she silently scoured the thought from her brain.
“Did you hear that, Lauren?”
She looked up to find the women looking her way. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I asked how the restaurant is coming along?” Beth repeated.
“Oh. Good. We’ve locked in the menu but now we’re tweaking the dishes to make them as flavorful as possible. The waitstaff is also learning the menu so they’ll be ready when the doors open.”
As soon as the last word was out, Lauren found herself staring at the face of another munchkin. This one a little boy with dark hair and a very handsome face. “I’m Conner,” he said. “Why you holding Daphne?”
“Because she told me to,” she answered. “Nice to meet you, Conner.”
“He’s mine,” Callie said, taking the chair beside Will’s empty one. “That’s Lauren, baby. She’s new to the island.”