Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  “Imagining a wide-open space sometimes helps,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She sucked in a ragged breath. “Picturing a beach works best. I vacationed once at Blue Bay Beach, on Mauritius. It was lovely there, peaceful and serene.”

  “Alright, you take a trip to the beach in your mind while I see if I can get the door off the hinges. That’s right,” he whispered soothingly. “Just close your eyes and picture the clear blue sea and endless sky.”

  Jack gently stroked Jem’s cheek and released her cold hand.

  She wrapped her freed arm over the other clutched tightly against her middle. Long, silky eyelashes swept downward, toward the pale skin under her eyes. He sensed, rather than saw her mental attempt to sketch a calming beach scene behind closed eyelids. Her effort to control the panic—drawing shallow, shuddering breaths in and raggedly releasing them—moved him. He didn’t suffer with claustrophobia, but even a blind man could see it was a huge source of anxiety for Jem.

  A smile quirked the corner of his mouth when he recognized the refrain to Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds. Great choice. The sight of Jem swaying to the music entranced him. Oh, yeah. Every little thing was gonna be alright. Her breath still hitched, she was extremely pale and her long, slender fingers clenched convulsively in the folds of the soft gray dress. But she was trying.

  He turned toward the door to study the hinges, fishing in his jeans for a utility knife. Dammit, he’d taken it out this morning at a job site and stuck it in his jacket with his cell phone. The one he’d left on the table on the other side of the locked door. Frustrated, he slapped his hand against the sturdy wooden door.

  Jem stopped humming at the sharp noise and her breathing sped up again. She clutched the neckline of her dress, pulling it away from her throat, each short gasp labored. The agony in her creased brow made him move to her side, frantically thinking of a way to help her.

  She jumped as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her toward his chest.

  “Making it worse here,” she gritted out between tense lips.

  Locked in a tight embrace, Jem’s breath stopped. With her eyes riveted to his, she wrestled to break free of the constriction. Her soft breasts rose and fell against his chest, spearing heat down his spine. God, he felt like a dog. This woman was struggling to work through a reaction to a small space and he was turned on by the sensation of her body rubbing against his.

  Desperate to distract her from the panic gripping her, he lowered his mouth.

  The first tentative brush against her lips confirmed his suspicion about how kissable she was. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he caressed the soft sweetness. The tension gripping her shoulders eased as his mouth moved on hers.

  Other than the rapid rise of her chest, she stilled in his arms.

  He deepened the kiss, licking along the lush seam. Her sunny, citrusy scent teased his nose. He breathed deeply and gathered her closer. The moment his arms tightened, she stiffened and jerked away.

  She pushed against his chest and moved him back a step with an unexpected shove. “What are you doing?” Jem demanded, her voice reedy and thin.

  “I’m distracting you. It looked like you lost the picture of the beach, so I thought I’d give you something else to focus on.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t see him here, sugar,” he rasped. He took a step forward, keeping his hands at his sides, holding her gaze as he lowered his mouth again. He murmured against the softness of her lips, “We could look around for a deck of cards and play Crazy Eights, if you think that would work better.”

  At Jem’s almost imperceptible headshake, he pressed his lips to hers, carefully not putting his arms around her again.

  She opened to him and when he felt her submerge in the sensation, he swept his tongue into her mouth. He let his hands wander up her shoulders, cradling her face in a tender grasp. Hearing her deep sigh, he knew the claustrophobia demon had relaxed its grip. She returned the kiss, almost aggressively. His lips curved in a smile as her arms stole around his neck, pressing her lithe body against the contours of his, stretching comfortably along his torso.

  Jem’s moan ignited the desire smoldering in him into a five-alarm fire. Claiming a place in her mouth, he stroked her tongue with his. Jem’s lips tugged gently as he eased back to trail kisses across her cheeks and brow. Her breathing, although still rapid, no longer bordered on panicked.

  He cautiously moved his arms around her back. Jem tightened her embrace and strained upward, capturing his lips again. He fought an urge to push this sexy woman backward toward the wall and lean hard into her. His tongue did the pushing instead, exploring the damp heat of her mouth, pulling back, then surging forward again. Her tongue danced sweetly, following his back where it belonged.

  He tangled briefly with the band holding her hair before he pulled it free. Thinking he could hold her like this all day, he combed his fingers through the length of her silken curls, rubbing the springy texture between a thumb and forefinger. He held her in his arms and lost himself in the provocative feel of her body and her tantalizing citrus scent.

  What started as an attempt to distract evolved into a fantasy come to life.

  * * * *

  Jem’s breath huffed out, but not in fright. God, the kisses of this near stranger were so entrancing it didn’t matter that he wasn’t Phil. Crushing terror had immobilized her when the door clicked shut, trapping her inside the miniscule space. The hypnotic feel of Jack’s lips eased the discomfort. She wasn’t sure when passion had replaced panic. The tenderness of his long fingers as they caressed her cheeks and combed through her hair was so sensuous it bordered on deliciously painful. She didn’t mind the pressure he exerted on the nape of her neck when he pulled her closer.

  The strength she felt in his rock-solid chest and thighs comforted and excited her. Her knees turned to water, and she leaned heavily against him. His lips trailed down her jaw, and lower, to where the pulse pounded in her neck. Desire spiked, hot and instantaneous, as he lightly touched his tongue to the point below her ear where her heart raced.

  Returning to her mouth, Jack gentled his kiss and enclosed her in his strong arms, careful not to squeeze. She sensed reluctance as he pulled away, resting a stubbled cheek on top of her head. His hand slid down her spine and back up—calming, soothing. She opened her eyes, intending to look into Jack’s, and tension hit hard as she spied the wooden shelves surrounding her. Damn, she was still locked in a small, confined space.

  “Keep your eyes closed, sugar,” Jack murmured, bringing one strong hand up to block her view. “Find the picture of Blue Bay in your mind and describe it to me.”

  Her breath stuttered as she tried to control the agitation that flooded through her when she opened her eyes after his devastating kiss. “It’s blue,” she said, with a ragged sigh.

  His chest rumbled slightly under her cheek as he chuckled. “Of course it is.”

  “No, I mean it’s many shades of blue. The sea changes colors as it gets deeper, but it’s clear enough to see fish darting about.” Visualizing the scene helped. She sighed. “Where the sea finally meets with the sky, the color changes from turquoise to cobalt. The few clouds are fluffy white. The glare off the sand is blinding, but I’m under a thatched umbrella, the palms are swaying and I hear steel drums in the distance. I’m drinking a delicious piña colada. Even the paper umbrella in the drink is blue.”

  “Are you wearing a blue bikini?”

  She smiled against the hand cradling her cheek. “No, candy-apple red.”

  “Am I there with you?” She heard the smile in his voice and was delighted that he enjoyed the vision she’d created to distract herself. He wasn’t Phil, and she should feel bad, but when his breath stuttered, she knew she’d put a picture in his head of her in a tiny, vibrantly red bikini.

  It was her turn to laugh. “Sure. You’re on the small stage in the sun, on the public address system, leading unsuspecting tourists in the Macarena. You’re
cute.”

  He groaned, then laughter rumbled in his chest. Her body was still loose, the tension ebbing away as she got lost on the beach in her mind.

  “So, you get to be queen of the beach, rocking a sexy, red bikini and I’m what? The court jester?”

  “Hey, my fantasy, my choice.”

  “Do you want to hear about my fantasy?” Jack asked in a low husky voice, dragging his fingers through her hair.

  His poorly timed fantasy question pulled her back to their current situation. “No, I’d like to get out of here.” She cringed at the abrupt tension in her tone

  He settled his hands on her shoulders and kneaded the tight muscles there, his touch gentle. “Sam will be here soon. No, hold still.” His hands tightened as she began to pull away. “Just relax and keep your eyes closed. That’s right, sugar, put your head back on my chest and listen to my heartbeat. Calm and steady. You’re okay. I’m here and I won’t let anything happen.”

  Leaning on his chest, his strong heart thudding under her cheek, she willed her discomfort in to a very small box of its own in her mind, a technique her therapist had attempted to teach her, without much result. Of course, the elderly therapist never cuddled her close the way Jack was. She enjoyed more success this time with his powerful body cradling hers, his beautiful fingers running the length of her arms, whispering across her hands before moving back to her shoulders.

  Still, being held this way and brutally shoving her fear into the tiniest box she could imagine wasn’t completely successful. She began to fidget, moving restlessly, nervously plucking at the soft folds of her gray dress while her foot tapped a rapid tattoo against the floor.

  “Who’s Sam?” she asked to keep from thinking about where she was.

  “My brother. My partner in building and renovating houses and businesses in Granite Pointe.” His chest rumbled under her cheek. “He’s a physical science and technology teacher at the high school and helps manage our various construction projects. Right now, we’re working on a sweet summer lodge on Settlers’ Lake. We’re supposed to go out there to check on progress once we finish here. You’ll like him. He’s the funny one in the family.”

  “What’s your role in the family dynamic?”

  “I’m the impulsive, persistent one. I see something I want and don’t stop until it’s mine. Pippa, my sister, says I brood when I don’t get my way, but I prefer to think of it as strategic planning.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  Where did that come from? It startled her to realize she’d put Phil out of her mind and might actually enjoy being pursued by the sexy man holding her in strong arms. “I, um mean with the renovation plans, for the café of course.” She could have pinched herself as the words spilled out. Oh my God, way to sound truly lame. Good recovery—not.

  “Whether you do it, or the next owner, it doesn’t really matter. I’m sure you remember from your summers here this place is a favorite of the residents of Granite Pointe.”

  “How did you know I worked here? I’d remember if I’d met you before.”

  “No, we’ve never met, but Sam worked for Caroline one summer and remembered you. I wasn’t in town because of football camp. But he mentioned your visits a few times.”

  A voice came from the other side of the door. “Hello? BC? Man, where are you?”

  Jack gave a short laugh. “Thank God! Sam, we’re locked in the pantry. Open the door…quickly.”

  Before she could pull out of Jack’s arms, heavy footsteps stopped outside the pantry and the door flew open.

  Chapter 3

  “Whoa! Slow down there, lady.”

  Jem bolted for the wide-open spaces the second the door opened, almost knocking her liberator on his butt as she pushed past him. Racing across the kitchen, she exited through the swinging door to the front of the café, where the midafternoon winter sun shone through the huge wall of windows. Falling to her hands and knees near one the tables bathed in the weak winter light, she breathed deeply, her elbows locked to hold herself upright.

  Jack rushed after her and dropped to his haunches at her side. He ran a hand down her bowed back, as she fought to calm the shudders that seized her the moment she gained her freedom. He pushed his mouth near her ear to murmur encouragement and praise for her bravery.

  “Do you want to tell me what the hell happened here?” the newcomer demanded, following the two of them.

  “The door to the pantry got jostled shut when we were looking at the electrical panel. Caroline never removed the lock after the last time she was stuck there. Jem has a slight problem with claustrophobia,” Jack answered, never taking his eyes from her face.

  Jem laughed harshly. “Slight? You need a much bigger word to describe my problem.”

  “God! I remember,” Sam exclaimed. “How long were you in there?”

  Jack looked at the slim watch on Jem’s wrist. “Nearly thirty minutes. A lifetime if you don’t like small spaces. Unfortunately, we left our phones out here, so we couldn’t even call for help. Can you get Jem a glass of water, please?”

  Sam hustled to get the water as Jack scooted around in front of Jem.

  “Come on, sugar. Come on, look at me.”

  Jem raised her eyes to look at him and she recognized relief on his face. Her cheeks heated, ashamed of the lifelong weakness she couldn’t control.

  “Jesus, Jem, don’t be embarrassed. You have a weakness. Everyone has them. I’m a white-knuckle flyer. I’ve been known to drink just to force myself down the jetway. We also have moments of glory and brilliance. Distracting you with a kiss was mine. As a matter of fact, kissing you could become one of my weaknesses.”

  His brother had to have heard what Jack said. Jem cringed and hissed at him. “Stop talking about it. You aren’t making it better.”

  He lowered his voice. “It was just a kiss…well, there’s an understatement. It was off the hook. But, sugar, it was just a distraction. I didn’t hear any complaints at the time.”

  “I won’t deny my participation.” Jem smacked away the hand he’d left on her arm since he’d squatted beside her. “I’ll thank you to recall the extreme circumstances of the situation. I have a very serious boyfriend. I’m almost engaged, for God’s sake.”

  He nodded, pushed to his feet and held out a hand. A fiery current arced up her arm as she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She jerked her hand back, as if stung by a bee, drew a breath and turned to face her rescuer.

  At her first clear view of Sam, Jem gasped in delight, discomfort and embarrassment forgotten. She knew him. He was a younger, softer version of Jack. They were nearly the same height, although Sam’s wiry build reminded her of a distance runner. They had the same luxurious dark hair and thick, slashing eyebrows. Sam’s eyes were more hazel and his grin wasn’t as charmingly crooked as Jack’s, but it still showed off straight white teeth. While Jack’s looks bordered on sexy, fallen-angel dangerous, Sam’s were more boyish and engaging.

  “Sammy-I-Ammy?”

  The dimples that made Jack’s face so spectacular bracketed Sam’s mouth as well. His face lit up and he pulled her close in a bear hug. “God, I can’t believe you remember. It’s great to see you, Jem.”

  She froze at the sudden confinement of Sam’s hug, residual agitation ascending along her spine. She beat the sensation down as she worked her arms up between their bodies, creating space. He stepped back when she pushed against his chest.

  She looked up at his warm, engaging, and apologetic face. Relieved that he understood her need for space, she grinned broadly at him.

  “I didn’t realize the Sam you kept talking about was this guy.” She addressed Jack, before looking back to Sam. “We worked together one summer. Gosh, you were sixteen, so I must have been, what, about fourteen?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. I had a major crush on you. You were the most stunning girl I’d ever seen. You were gorgeous then, but wow! Look at you now.”

  “You were an incurable flirt back then and clea
rly still are.” She laughed, then turned toward Jack. “Even twelve years ago, Sam knew about my problem with small spaces. He always volunteered to get anything I needed out of the pantry.”

  “And caught hell from Caroline every time. Are you okay?” Sam asked, concern coloring his baritone voice.

  “Yeah. Yeah. God, you’re a lifesaver.” She reached for the water glass and drank it down in several rapid gulps. She caught the mesmerized look on Jack’s face as he watched her throat move with each long swallow. Sharp heat tripped through her at the look in his eyes. She almost choked as her thoughts wandered to how right his lips had felt as they traced her neck.

  Sam laughed, dispelling the undercurrent of tension. “All I did was open a door.”

  “And saved her from becoming a…what did you call it? Oh, right, a pile of goo.”

  The dimples replaced the stoic look that had shadowed Jack’s face since she’d chastised him. “You’re the older brother who played football at Boston College. He called you BC then.”

  “Yep, that’s me. It’s probably why we never met. When you were fourteen, I was a senior in college. I worked for Caro from the time I was twelve until I left for college. Every Kerrigan spent time behind this counter. That’s why I’d like to see it stay in your family. Lots of great memories here.”

  “There sure are.” She flinched as sadness hit her, a sharp elbow to the stomach.

  Sam took her hands. “I’m so sorry about Caroline. God, I’m going to miss her.”

  The emotion of the funeral, the grief of Caro’s death and her ordeal in the tiny pantry overwhelmed her. Her eyes welled up and she heaved a sigh from the depths of her soul. “Me, too.”

  Giving herself a quick shake, she put the empty glass on a table and crossed the shop, slipping behind the cash counter, rummaging underneath. “Caro never had time for people who wallowed in self-pity,” she said. “Where is it? Ah, found it.” She pulled her hand from under the counter with a screwdriver clenched in her fist. “She had the greatest respect for people who took steps to control their lives, regardless of the odds they might face. It’s time to live up to her expectations.”