Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  “Really?” Jem made a face of mock disbelief and folded her arms across her chest. “Apparently you and Stacey need to communicate better. She bragged to Margo that you’ve been ‘together’ for some time. I’ve been thinking and it’s likely this ‘one-time thing’ has been going on for nearly three months. And, there have been other women besides Stacey. Am I right?”

  Looking wretched, he ran his fingers through his artfully styled hair before he answered. “Does it matter?”

  “No,” Jem said, surprised by the finality ringing in her voice. It didn’t matter. Not any more. She shook her head sadly, recognizing the truth. But his smug look sizzled her anger back to the surface. She snapped at him. “You know, the hangdog attitude would work better if you could wipe the smirk off your face. You aren’t sorry about your behavior. You cheated on me, repeatedly. You’re only sorry I found out and ruined your fun.”

  Phil looked at her emotionlessly. “You don’t really care to hear my side of the story. About why I felt the need to have an affair.”

  “You’re right. I don’t care. You cheated. End of story. The only thing I care about is my health. Stacey gets around, and apparently, you do, too. Since I know you were sleeping with me the whole time you’ve been fucking her, I want to know if you protected your tiny little penis. I know you didn’t with me.”

  He winced at her crudity. “We’re both clean, so you have nothing to worry.”

  “Of course that’s what you’d say.” Thank God she’d taken time to stop at her doctor’s office on her way over from Margo’s. Protecting her while he screwed around would never have crossed Phil’s mind. “I’ll have the results of my blood test tomorrow. God help you if I find out you’ve infected me with a nasty STD.” Jem stabbed her finger in his direction, her anger threatening to boil over as she questioned him. “How could you be so careless?”

  “I told you I’m clean,” Phil shot back testily.

  Jem looked at him lounging back on the sofa, in his slick, fashionable suit with his tie roguishly loosened, blond highlights winking in his hair. He looked good…today. But his fast-and-loose lifestyle would eventually catch up. The six-pack he was so proud of looked squishy, and surprisingly, there was a hint of puffiness around his contact-lens-enhanced, hypnotic green eyes. She studied his closely shaved face and immediately thought of a more rugged, stubbly chin and tousled dark hair. In her subconscious comparison, Jack won. She shook off her thoughts to concentrate on what Phil was saying.

  “It was never going to be happily ever after for us anyway, baby. The hard truth is you were never my type. You’re freakishly tall and built like a boy. I prefer my girls shorter and softly rounded, more like Stacey. Making love to you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to force myself to do. If I were an actor on Broadway, I’d be nominated for a Tony.”

  Phil crossed one leg over the other. “You know, at first, it was fun. You were enough of an—I don’t know—an anomaly, I enjoyed myself. In fact, I used to close my eyes when I was with other women and picture you. Then, about eight months ago, I started picturing the faces of other women when I was with you. It was the only way I could make it palatable for me.”

  She stared openmouthed at the man she’d thought had been about to propose. She would have said yes. Jem squinted over the ache behind her eyes. He’d picked words he knew would create the maximum hurt possible. The stinging pain of his confession slashed her soul. “God, they don’t come much dumber than me, do they? I thought you loved me, but in truth, you could barely force yourself to touch me. Gosh, Phil.” She stabbed her finger in his direction. “I guess you wasted two years of your life with me.”

  “It wasn’t a complete waste. You knew people, and I knew being with you would be my ticket to more clients and more billings than the other junior partners. When it was time to promote someone to full partner, they’d naturally look at me first. It’s only a matter of time now before they tap me for the job. I was already thinking about ending it with you anyway. You’ve just about reached the end of your usefulness for me.”

  “So, our relationship was only about furthering your career?” Hurt reverted to anger in a heartbeat. Her voice rose as she took an involuntary step in his direction before stopping herself. He’d awakened the sleeping tiger in her, and she fought the urge to close the distance between them to slap his face.

  Phil shrank back against the sofa cushions. The look of disdain on her face must have turned him on, and he licked his lips. Revulsion shook her. He was a sick, deluded bastard if he thought she’d ever let him touch her again.

  “I should have listened to Resa. She never liked you. She never suspected you of cheating on me, but deep down, she knew you were using me. Too bad it took me so long to see it.”

  “Do you know why I sought out other women, besides your lack of physical attraction?” Phil questioned, pushing her nearer explosive anger. “You have closeness issues because of your little problem with claustrophobia. You never wanted me to hold you after sex. The first thing you do when we’re done is push me away. It’s important to me to maintain a close connection after making love. I’m able to find closeness with other women.”

  “Ha,” Jem scoffed, planting her hands on her hips. She knew what he was doing, and she wasn’t buying it. “Like you can do so much cuddling in the ladies’ room at a dance club.”

  Chagrin marred Phil’s angelic look as she continued, “You’re saying something most men would be delighted about, being able to roll over and fall asleep, is a problem for you? People without spatial issues would find your idea of snuggling smothering. You never tried, so please don’t blame your tendency to cheat on me. Time for you to leave, Phil. We’re done here. Leave your key on the table.” She pointed to the piece of furniture, not even willing to take the key from his hand. Walking to the door, she kicked the box of his stuff. She willed him to leave without saying anything else.

  But Phil, being Phil, had to have the last word. Always had…always would. “I knew you’d take it this way. It’s nothing personal, baby. It’s just…you aren’t woman enough for me. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think any one woman will ever be enough.” He bent over to pick up his box, exposing his ass as a perfect target. Jem prided herself on her stance as a pacifist, but the urge to plant her foot dead center on the bull’s-eye she envisioned there was nearly overwhelming. Instead, she waited until he straightened with the box in his hands.

  “It’s very personal to me, you son of a bitch. One last thing, Phil. I hate it when you call me baby.”

  He walked out the door, but turned back to her in the hall. As he opened his mouth one last time, she slammed the door in his face.

  For once, she got the last word.

  Chapter 8

  God, her new life was already exhausting.

  During a farewell breakfast with Resa, Margo dropped by the table at their favorite restaurant. She insisted on buying a send-off cup of coffee, setting Jem back by thirty minutes on her planned start time. Traffic across the Triborough Bridge and through the Bronx was a construction nightmare, turning her five-hour trip into a seven-hour ordeal. It was well after midday before she found her way onto the interstate and slightly smoother sailing. A quick stop in Connecticut was all she allowed herself, eager to get back to Granite Pointe before nightfall.

  She pulled her car into a parking space in front of Caro’s Taste, turned off the engine and simply sat there. Gazing at the airy front windows of the café, she envisioned how the space would look once it had been remodeled. The setting sun glanced off the large panes of glass and revealed the curved lines and decorative flourishes of the Federal style of architecture. Once restored to its original condition, Jem thought it could possibly be a cornerstone for the local businesses.

  Jack had texted her to let her know a repairman for the vintage stove would be there in the late afternoon, so the light shining in apartment window over the café didn’t alarm her. She climbed out of the car and walked arou
nd the rear, pulling suitcases from the trunk. Skirting around the other side of the car, familiar barking drew her glance toward the big truck parked two spaces down.

  Clooney sat behind the steering wheel woofing at her. She laughed at the sight of the dog looking ready to drive the powerful black truck. The idea of seeing Jack in the apartment with the repairman pleased her. She dropped the suitcases on the sidewalk and went over to the slightly rolled down window to say hello to the dog. Clooney greeted her with a lopsided doggy grin, and a quick, wet lick of her fingers as she stuck them through the opening to pet his muzzle.

  “Hello, big fella. Oh, that’s right…you’re such a good dog. What was your mean old human thinking? Huh? Leaving you alone in the truck?” Once she finished talking nonsense to the dog, she retrieved her bags and entered the stairway to the upstairs apartment. She left the larger of the bags at the bottom of the stairs and climbed up.

  As Jem opened the door to her new home, she heard percussive thumps, like a hammer on pipes, coming from the rear of the apartment, the noise drowning out the sound of her footsteps. Today she got to observe unnoticed from a doorway. And the view was incredible.

  Jack worked alone in her kitchen. He’d pulled the heavy Wedgewood away from the wall and shoved it to one side, giving him easy access to the gas line behind it. Bent over, with his back to her, he worked with a wrench. Although the target was similar to the one Phil had presented a few days ago, her hand, not her foot, itched to lay itself along the exposed area.

  Even though she’d approached silently, Jack suddenly righted himself and turned, as if he sensed her presence. A broad grin etched dimples neatly in each side of his mouth and created delightful crinkles, illuminating bright blue eyes.

  She smiled back and set the suitcase on the floor inside the door.

  Jack stared at the small overnight case, the light in his eyes dimmed.

  “So, you’re the guy you know who repaired it last year, huh?” She leaned against the doorjamb, holding back laughter.

  “Guilty,” Jack replied, looking anything but.

  “You know, you could have said you’d look at, instead of letting me believe I was putting you out to find someone who could repair it.”

  His smile widened. “Where’s the fun in that? I know a little something about appliance repair, and I did fix this beast for Caroline last year.”

  She lost the battle to be stern and grinned back at him. His smile was too infectious. “Why’d you leave Clooney in the car? He looked lonely.”

  “I didn’t know how you’d feel about having him in your house.”

  “Next time, bring him in. He’s too well behaved to leave him locked in a truck.”

  “Noted.” He gestured to the pulled-out stove. “The gas was already off when I started to work on it. I checked it over, thinking there had to be a reason Caroline turned it off. When I pulled it out, that was taped to the back of it.”

  He pointed to a puffy mailing envelope with Jem’s name on it lying on top of the griddle plate. She dropped her purse and coat on the table and picked up the envelope.

  “What is it?”

  “It was addressed to you, so I didn’t open it. It feels like maybe a key.”

  “Why was it taped to the back of the stove? What are the chances I’d find it there?” Jem turned the paper over in her hands.

  “Pretty good, I’d say. Caroline disconnected the gas line on the stove as well as turning off the main supply in the utility closet. She had to know you’d find it the first time you tried to cook. If she were going to hide it there, she’d have to turn off the gas to keep it from burning up if she used the oven. The stove works perfectly.” Jack carefully replaced his wrench in the toolbox on the counter. Grasping the sides of the Wedgewood, he began positioning it to shove it back in place.

  “This thing is monstrously heavy. How did she move it?”

  “At some point, it was put on a type of caster, making it easier to move and clean behind. Still, it would have been tough for a woman of Caroline’s age. I had a devil of a time getting it out.” He grunted as he started maneuvering the appliance back into place.

  Jem dropped the envelope on the table and walked toward him. He looked sharply at her as she brushed his hand away from the near side. Jesus! How did that small contact, a tiny brush of her fingertips along the back of his hand, generate enough electricity to power every light in the apartment?

  Hearing the sharp intake of his breath, she knew he’d felt it too. A quick glance confirmed it. The slow, sensual simmer in his crystal-blue eyes left her spellbound for a moment and she let herself drift in the depth of his gaze.

  Shaking off the feeling, she braced herself to help. Between the pair of them, they walked the stove back against the wall until Jack was satisfied it was in place.

  Jem stepped back while Jack eyed the stove’s alignment with the countertop. She pushed her wayward hair back over her shoulder when he faced her, heat still alive in his eyes, a sexy grin on his face. His intense gaze roamed over her face for heart stopping moment and her body responded, heat shooting straight to her belly. And lower. She forgot how to breathe, how to think. Her mouth went dry at the fire she saw in his open expression. Developing a mind of its own, her tongue darted out to dance nervously across her lips, drawing his eyes to them. She swallowed hard when he moved in her direction.

  She suddenly moved away, putting the safety of the table between them. Even though she considered her former boyfriend a horse’s ass, Phil’s hurtful words echoed through her mind, reminding her that he had found her lacking. How long would it be before Jack found her as lacking as Phil had? Who knew? Maybe her claustrophobia would be a problem for him, too. She didn’t think she was mentally strong enough right now to overcome the doubts Phil’s words had created. Getting involved with someone else, even a man as kind, friendly and incredibly hot as Jack Kerrigan, was an emotional ride she wasn’t up to taking right now. She couldn’t bear getting close to him, no matter how much she longed to be in his arms. It would be for the best if they stopped a potential flirtation before it got started.

  Unfortunately, sound logic didn’t stop a sharp pang of regret as the heat died in Jack’s eyes. She knew just one small step in his direction could rekindle the remaining embers. As much as she would have liked to see the flames sparking to life again, she couldn’t do it.

  Jack sighed heavily, leaning his hip on the counter behind him. “Please. Please tell me you aren’t going back to him.”

  Her laughter rang harshly in the quiet kitchen. “I’m not that big of a fool. It’s over with Phil. He cheated more than once and blamed me for his infidelity. Apparently, he’s been stringing me along for two years, capitalizing on my business connections to earn a promotion to partner. He is the walking definition of POS. He figured as long as he was discreet, I’d be okay with his behavior. Like I’m some kind of Victorian housewife. I’m not sure in this scenario who’s the bigger idiot—me or him?”

  “I’ll vote for him,” Jack said, compassion making his voice soft. “He’s a fool.”

  “I can’t find it in myself to trust him ever again. Stacey is welcome to him.”

  “But you’re still leaving Granite Pointe,” he stated flatly.

  “Be careful you don’t hurt yourself jumping to these huge conclusions, big fella,” she said. “Why would you even think that?”

  He looked pointedly at the suitcase resting just inside the doorway. At her unspoken question, he shrugged. “You could barely fit a toothbrush in that thing, let alone an entire wardrobe.”

  Jem glanced at the case and back at him. “This apartment is on the second floor.” At his confused frown, she continued. “Have you seen the size of me? I’m tall, but some people might call me scrawny. I can’t wrestle more than one suitcase up those stairs at a time. There’s a larger one at the bottom of the stairs, and tons of boxes in the back of my car. I’m here for good.”

  Relief lightened his face immediately as Jem ack
nowledged she was staying. But doubt still lingered, a pale shadow across his face. He stepped forward, waving his hand toward the table. “Then what is it? Why are you using a piece of furniture as a barricade between us?”

  She sighed and gestured to herself. “Look at me! Jack, I’m a mess. Suddenly, I’m living in an upside-down world. I liked my life in New York, and now I’ve willingly traded it for operating a business I have no real experience at, in a town whose entire population is roughly equivalent to the number of residents on the city block where I use to live. I don’t know anyone here, except for you. And Sam. And, I don’t know you all that well.” She folded her arms across her rib cage and gazed at the ground. “I never thought I’d be the kind of woman a man would use and cheat on. What pisses me off is how he made me feel when I ended it. Now, instead of riding into the sunset with the man I thought I’d share my life with, in the city I called home, all I’m left with is doubt.”

  “Jem—”

  “I don’t trust—”

  “Me?” he asked softly.

  She lifted her head sharply, surprised by the hurt in his voice. How could he think that? She had more faith in him than in herself. She shook her head vehemently, eager to make him understand. “No! Me. I don’t trust me. And you don’t want that. You don’t want me.”

  “As you said, you don’t know me well enough. How can you possibly know what I do or don’t want?” He stepped toward her.

  She took a step back, maintaining their distance. “Let’s just say you shouldn’t want me. Wanting me comes complete with my neuroses. I hate small spaces and feeling like I’m trapped. I’m ‘freakishly’ tall—Phil’s words, not mine, built more like a boy than a woman worth touching. I no longer trust myself when it comes to making relationship decisions. Honestly, I don’t know when or if I ever will. For now, we should just stick to business. It’s safer for me. It’s safer for everyone.”