by Madison, Mia
“But I didn’t see any books under your name online,” I said, and then immediately buried my face in the pillow. I hadn’t meant to let him know I’d searched online for him.
“You looked me up?” He sounded a little smug.
“I, umm… yes, sort of.”
His laugh was low and rumbly. “I write under a pen name.” There was a short hesitation. “LJ Wildwood.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Really? I mean, the LJ part sounds normal, but Wildwood…”
“Sounds like a porn star name?” he finished, and I blushed. “I’ve heard that before. But my publisher thought it sounded like a good name for a Western writer.”
“LJ Wildwood,” I said, slowly. “I think I’ve heard of that name before. Are your books in the library? Are they ebooks, too?”
“Yes to both,” he said. “And the LJ, at least, is real… it stands for Lucas James.”
“That part suits you.”
“But not the porn star last name?” he teased.
My cheeks turned redder. Though I had a bit of the olive complexion from my dad’s side of the family, my blush came all too often. “No comment, Lucas James.”
“Good call, umm, is it Gabrielle?”
“Nope.”
“Gabriella?”
“Maybe,” I said. I’d always hated my full first name—too many syllables.
His voice was amused again. “I’ll see you on Friday evening, Gabriella.”
“Looking forward to it, LJ," I said.
After we’d hung up, I was torn—should I look up his books or start planning the meal for Friday?
I ended up doing both.
5
Luke
“Can you guys keep it down?”
Ava and Brandon looked up guiltily as I descended the stairs.
“Sorry, Dad,” Ava said. She was usually the official twins spokesperson.
“How about you go play out back, and in a half an hour, I’ll come join you. I just need to finish this chapter.”
“Can we go to the park?” Brandon asked.
“Not today,” I said lightly, but the twins exchanged a look. I hadn’t let them go to the park since Brandon had fallen in the lake.
“But maybe Gabi’s there.”
I smiled at my daughter. It wasn’t surprising she was so fond of Gabi—poor Ava didn’t have any female role models to look up to outside of school. But it wasn’t Gabi’s job to look after my kids, it was mine. “You’ll see Gabi tomorrow night.”
“What’s she making for dinner?” Brandon asked.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“I hope it’s brownies,” my son said.
“Silly, she’s bringing a whole meal,” Ava said. “But yeah, I hope there’s something chocolate for dessert.”
I made a mental note to get vanilla ice cream just in case Gabi brought something like that would go with it.
After convincing the twins to go play in the backyard, I went back to my study, but I couldn’t seem to get back into my writing. Friday evening was on my mind—or more specifically, Gabi.
The idea of a home-cooked meal was a welcome one. The kids and I didn’t exactly starve, but we rarely got to eat anything like that. Breakfast was most often cereal or frozen waffles. Ava and Brandon bought lunch at school. For dinner, I usually got takeout from a restaurant. Not fast food—I always picked entrees from decent restaurants. But it wasn’t the same as homemade food.
Gabi was a funny girl. With her living situation—I’d learned from the kids that she had two roommates whom they’d met—she could’ve relied on takeout like I did. Yet it sounded like she baked and cooked all the time. It seemed a slightly old-fashioned habit for a young woman her age. How was it that a woman ten or twelve years younger than me knew how to cook when I hadn’t managed to learn in my thirty-six years?
Of course, in my twenties, I’d been finishing my Ph.D. Doing research. Teaching. And working such long hours that I never got to see my wife and children… until suddenly she wasn’t my wife anymore and it was just me and the kids.
I’d been married and divorced. I had children. I’d had more than my share of ups and downs. A young woman like Gabi was just starting out in life. She had all of that ahead of her—well, hopefully not the divorce part. She didn’t need to be spending her Friday evening cooking dinner for us, but apparently she wanted to. Somehow, my idea to invite her over here to thank her turned into her doing yet another favor for us.
Still, the kids were so thrilled with the idea that I couldn’t say no—though I did caution them against sharing any more opinions about Gabi and me in regard to dating or marriage.
Shaking my head, I leaned back in my chair. That had shocked the hell out of me at their birthday dinner. It had never occurred to me that they thought about me remarrying or that they might be on the lookout for a woman with the potential to be a mom for them. I hadn’t even had a date in… god, I couldn’t remember how long. Perhaps some single dads managed to have time for that kind of thing, but I didn’t know how in the hell they did it.
Besides, Gabi was too young. Or I was too old. Something like that. Ever since Tuesday, I’d been trying to keep my mind off of her. She’d saved my son’s life—I was supposed to be grateful, not thinking about the way her soft curves had looked when she’d been wearing my oversized robe. Bulky as it was, it hadn’t disguised the deep valley between her breasts or the curve of her hips. The sight of the robe falling away from her smooth thigh hadn’t registered that night, but apparently it had made an impression, because now I could visualize it perfectly.
Thoughts like those made me feel like a dirty old man, but I couldn’t help it. She was really hard to forget. Those dark, vivid eyes. The bright, eager smile. The black ringlets that fell to her shoulders and bounced when she walked.
She was too young. She deserved better than an older man in this thirties who’d already started a family… but damn if I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
6
Gabi
“So, exactly how many children does the professor-turned-author have?”
“Two,” I said distractedly, and then I frowned. Kait should know that, she’d met Ava and Brandon.
She noticed my expression. “I was just asking because it looks like you’re preparing dinner for a very large royal family.”
I rolled my eyes. Maybe I had prepared a lot of food, but that meant I could choose the best of everything to take with me. And I doubted very much she’d complain about eating the leftovers. “Do you mind if I take our ketchup bottle with me? I’ve got steak fries in the oven, and Luke might not have any.”
“He’s got kids—he’ll have ketchup,” Kait said, but she nodded.
He probably did have ketchup, but I wondered whether it was in a bottle or tiny individual packets from the nearest hamburger joint. I wanted this meal to be nothing like the kind of thing they usually ate. I wanted it to be perfect.
“Tell me about his books,” Kait said as I examined the dough I’d made earlier. It had risen to just about double its original size—perfect. The gooey dough stretched as I pulled off a piece and rolled it into a ball. “Gabi?”
“Yes?” I placed the ball onto a baking sheet and started on another. The rolls wouldn’t take very long to cook, which was good because Luke would be here in half an hour.
“You said you started reading one of his books. How is it?”
Now I gave her my full attention because I’d been wanting to talk to someone about it. “It’s good… just different.”
“How so? Have you read any westerns before?”
“No, definitely not. But the way he writes, it makes it really interesting. He includes all these details about what life was like back then. What people’s homes looked like. How they earned a living. What they did for fun.”
“And that’s a western? I thought it would be cowboys and gunslingers and sheriffs and stuff.”
“That’s in there, too,” I said.
“The one I’m reading has a good plot, it’s just also got a lot of other stuff.” A flush rose to my face and I pretended to be engrossed in the rolls to hide it from Kait. One of the other things that had surprised me was a sex scene in Luke’s book. The book wasn’t a romance, but it had had a pretty hot scene between a gunslinger and the woman who managed the local tavern. Somehow, Luke’s books defied everything I thought I knew about westerns, but they were obviously popular. The one I was reading had hundreds of reviews online. And another one of his had been made into a made-for-television movie a few years back.
“Maybe I’ll have to read one of his books myself,” Kait said.
“You should.” I was being truthful because he wrote really well, but I didn’t relish the thought of the added teasing I’d get from my roommates if they read a sex scene he’d written. Plus I didn’t want them to think of him that way though I’d been giving it plenty of thought lately. So far, everything I knew of the man was a contradiction, just like his writing… yet it seemed to work for him. And I was eager to learn more.
I put the rolls in the oven and checked on the steak fries. They were almost done.
“When’s he coming?”
Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I panicked a little. “Twenty minutes—crap.”
“Go get ready, I’ll finish up here.”
“Oh, but I still need to—”
“Just tell me what to do and go change. I’m not as good a cook as you, but I can take things out of the oven and pack things up.”
“Thanks, Kait.” Hurriedly, I told her what needed to be done and then dashed upstairs.
By the time Luke texted to say that he was five minutes away, I was mostly ready. I’d changed into a dark maroon blouse that had a frilly V-neck. My skirt was black as were my sandals. I’d done my make-up carefully, using enough eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes pop. The only jewelry I wore were a pair of diamond earrings that had belonged to my mother.
“I hear a car in the driveway,” Kait called, and I ran down the stairs. But once on the front porch, I recognize Ian’s car. The tall, handsome man moved around to help Sierra out of the passenger seat. He handed her her crutches—she’d broken her ankle falling off of a ladder earlier in the summer.
Somehow, she managed to look graceful even with the large white cast on her foot.
It wasn’t until she and Ian were at the base of the steps that led up to the porch that I noticed Luke walking across the lawn. He’d evidently parked in the street.
Ian placed his arm around Sierra’s waist, and I reached down to take her free hand. There were only four steps, but they were old and rickety—much like everything else in this house. Kait said there used to be a banister, but it had broken off long before Sierra and I had moved in during college.
Luke paused as he watched Sierra’s slow progress up the stairs. Then Sierra and Ian reached the porch and Luke followed after them.
“Hi,” I said to him, feeling suddenly shy. “This is my roommate, Sierra, and her boyfriend Ian.” I looked over at Sierra and she winked at me. “This is Luke,” I told them.
“Nice to meet you,” Sierra said, sounding like she meant it. Luke wasn’t as tall as Ian who was practically a giant, but Luke’s broad shoulders and firm muscles more than made up for it, at least in my opinion. Sierra looked like she approved too.
“You, too,” Luke said. Then he and Ian shook hands. And just like that, I was turned on. There was something so… masculine about it. For a moment, it felt like Sierra’s man was sizing up mine. Except Luke wasn’t my man. I had to keep reminding myself of that or I’d likely end up getting hurt.
From the sparkle in Sierra’s eyes, I could tell she was enjoying being in the company of both men, too. I tried to look at Luke through her eyes. He was a bit older than Ian, but he wore it well. His hair was brown but lighter than mine. Just at his temples it was starting to go white which somehow looked sexy as hell on him. His eyes were a light brown that looked like golden whiskey at times. His strong jaw was covered in a stubble that I ached to touch.
Sierra had been teasing me about how I should date Luke for over a week now. Now that she’d met him, it was clear she still thought it was a good idea.
Too bad Luke didn’t appear to.
We went in the living room and repeated the introductions when Kait came out of the kitchen. “Almost everything’s packed up. Gabi, can you come make sure I got everything?”
She dragged me into the kitchen and whispered, “He’s so hot! I wish I’d had a handsome professor like him when I was in college.”
“He’s not a professor anymore,” I said quietly as I checked the box and the stuff next to it on the kitchen table. It looked like everything was there.
“Okay, so he’s a hot single dad. He’s still yummy.”
“What’s yummy?” Luke said, appearing at the door.
My heart dropped into my stomach, but Kait didn’t miss a beat. “Everything Gabi prepared.”
“It smells delicious.”
“Gabi’s the best cook I know.”
Luke picked up the box and headed to the living room. I followed with the rolls and a bag of serving utensils. I’d only been in Luke’s kitchen once, but it hadn’t looked particularly well-stocked.
“Have fun!” Sierra said as we passed by. She and Kait were beaming like maniacal girl scouts.
Ian had an amused smile on his face, but he echoed Sierra’s sentiments.
“Say hi to Ava and Brandon for us,” Kait added.
“Will do,” I said, and then we were outside. Luke led me to his car, a dark blue four-door. He put the box in the trunk and took the rolls and bag from me. Then he opened my car door, and I slipped past him to settle in, my face flushing again. Why did the man make me blush so much? So he knew how to treat a woman properly. Just because every guy I’d ever dated hadn’t didn’t make Luke all that special.
Except it did.
Well, that and a dozen other reasons. Again, I cautioned myself about not reading more into this dinner. He’d invited me over because I’d helped Brandon out. That was the only reason. Men like him didn’t go for women like me. They went for beauties like Sierra, or Kait. Not chubby girls who baked. Sure, I’d dated some in high school and college, but never a man like Luke.
“What smells so good?”
Luke’s deep voice made me blush even harder. For a moment, I thought he was referring to my floral perfume, but then I realized the scent of the meat had permeated the car.
“Probably the pork. I made pork medallions with bourbon sauce. Do you think the kids will like that?”
“If they don’t die of shock at actually having a home-cooked meal, I think they’ll love it,” he said.
“I made steak fries, too. And asparagus, sautéed mushrooms, and rolls.”
“I can’t promise about the other veggies, but they’ll love the pork, steak fries, and rolls. Are they homemade?”
“Of course,” I said.
He chuckled, glancing over at me as he steered easily with one hand. “I forgot I was talking to a baker extraordinaire. And it sounds like you cook as well as you bake. Where’d you learn that?”
“From my mom. Growing up we always cooked together.”
“She must’ve taught you well.”
“She did.”
Luke pulled into his driveway, and almost instantly the front door opened. Ava and Brandon ran out to welcome me, and for a few minutes all was confusion as the twins insisted on helping carry things in. They were underfoot in an adorable way in the kitchen, too, at least until I shot Luke a desperate look.
“Let’s set the table and let Gabi do her thing, okay, guys?” Luke said, gathering up silverware.
I unpacked the food as I listened to the two high-pitched voices meld with the lower one in the dining room. It was more than apparent that the twins loved their dad very much.
Luke’s eyes widened as I brought the last of the dishes out to the table. “How many famili
es did you cook for?”
“I can eat all that,” Brandon said. Then he glanced sideways at me. “But maybe I should leave room for dessert?” His tone was hopeful as he took his place at the table.
I scoffed. “Do you really think I’d forget to bring dessert?”
“What is it?” Ava sat next to her brother.
“You’ll find out.” I raised my eyebrows and grinned at her.
Luke held my seat out for me like he’d done the first time I’d dined here. Then he went into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle. “I almost forgot,I got us some wine. I didn’t know what you were cooking—I hope it goes okay.”
I took a look at the bottle as he poured a glass for me. Cabernet Sauvignon. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Though it may not seem like it because you cooked, this dinner is for you.”
He poured himself a glass and sat down. “To Gabi and whoever taught her to swim.”
“To Gabi,” the twins echoed, and clinked their glasses of milk against our wine glasses. Unexpectedly, a lump formed in the back of my throat. I still didn’t think I’d done anything special, but it was nice to be appreciated.
As predicted, the twins enjoyed the steak fries the most, but they also seemed to like the pork. And Brandon had two rolls and was reaching for a third when his sister reminded him to save room for dessert.
The twins chatted throughout dinner. Apparently, they loved their new teacher this year. I was surprised. Back in my school days, twins were usually placed in separate classes. Maybe they didn’t do that anymore?
Luke let the kids do most of the talking during dinner… or perhaps ‘let’ wasn’t the right word. It would probably have taken an act of congress to get Ava and Brandon to stop chattering. Still, it was fun to talk with them, to hear their stories, and to laugh. We laughed more in one evening that I had in quite a while. Brandon laughed so hard at one point that milk came out of his nose.
When everyone had eaten their fill, Luke stood up. “Why don’t you two go watch some television. I’ll help straighten up and we can have dessert in a little while.”