Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  “As long as it takes, sugar,” he answered simply.

  He leaned toward her and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek before pulling back and turning toward the door as Avery walked through.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry. Um…the guys want to know if it’s okay to help themselves to seconds. That turkey stuff is wicked good.”

  “Thanks. Tell them they better clean it up. I don’t want any leftovers.”

  With one last look at Jack, she went back to work.

  * * * *

  “You can’t wear that hat to a Bruins game,” Jack shook his head and pointed toward Jem’s ball cap as she walked toward the truck. “Go change it.”

  He’d texted, asking her to meet him on the street in front of the café so he wouldn’t have to leave the twins alone in the truck. While her jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers were fine to wear to a hockey game, her hat choice apparently left a lot to be desired. But it was just a hat.

  “What’s wrong with it?” The humidity was high and her hair curled riotously as a result. She’d managed it the way she had her whole life—pulled back in a ponytail and fed through the back opening of her baseball cap.

  “You look extra cute and kissable, but, sugar, it’s a Yankees cap,” he said, as if it was enough of an explanation. She cocked her head to the side in confusion and he continued. “The biggest and oldest rivalry in professional sports is between the Red Sox and the New York Yankees. Haven’t you ever heard of the Curse of the Bambino? Roger Maris? Come on, you’ve heard of Mickey Mantle, haven’t you?”

  “Well, sure. But why can’t I wear this hat?”

  “Jem, most Bostonians hate, I mean, really hate the Yankees. That would include Boston hockey fans. You show up wearing that and I’ll guarantee you will be harassed. Do you have another hat without a Yankees logo?”

  “I love this hat. A. Rod signed it.”

  He groaned. “All the more reason to change it. Come on, Jem, can you work with me here? I have impressionable children to watch over. Pip will have my head if one of them even mentions I took a Yankees fan to the game.”

  “She can wear my hat. I don’t need it.”

  Jem turned as she heard a sweet little voice coming from the back seat of the truck.

  The voice belonged to a miniature version of the twins’ mother. Mia waved a small Bruins hat in Jem’s direction. In spite of being boy and girl, Jem knew she’d struggle to keep them straight. Mia’s hair was longer, but she shared the same fine, soft curls with her brother, Mason. They both had intense brown eyes they must have inherited from their father. Mia smiled at her, displaying the Kerrigan family dimples.

  “Aw, sweet pea. That’s kind of you, but I don’t think it will fit Ms. Jemima’s head. Do you see the hat there on the floor? Can you reach it and hand it to me?” Jack pointed out the location of the hat in question. “It’s okay, the truck is parked. You can unbuckle your safety belt to get it. Just get right back in your seat and buckle back up, okay?”

  He held his hand out to take the hat from Mason, who beat Mia out of his restraint and grabbed it. Jack took it and reached out to pull the offending Yankee cap off her head, but she pushed his hand away.

  “Jack, it’s just a hat.”

  “You’re right, so you shouldn’t be upset that I asked you to change it.” As she started to argue, he lowered his voice. “I don’t want you hassled at the game, and I don’t want the twins to hear the way some adults talk, okay?”

  “Oh.” Immediately contrite, Jem carefully pulled her hair free, removed the offending hat and tossed it on the front seat. Jack smiled as he handed her a black cap with a logo for a yacht maker on the front. She hopped into the front of the truck and pulled her long, curly hair through the back loop and settled the cap on her head. She turned to smile at the kids in the back seat.

  “Sugar,” Jack leaned in the door across her and jabbed his thumb in the direction of the kids. “Meet Mason and Mia. Kids, say hello to Ms. Jemima.” He was so near, his hot-guy scent teased her nose. Good thing she was already sitting down, since her knees went weak at the delicious smell of him.

  Both kids chirped hello and waved as Jack closed the door, made his way over to the other side and hopped in. Mia commented, as only a five-year-old could, “Like the syrup on my pancakes. Is that why BC calls you sugar?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like it when he calls me that,” Jem responded honestly, glancing at Jack before smiling back at the kids. “You can call me Jem.”

  “Everybody buckled in?” Jack slid behind the wheel and looked over his shoulder at the twins to check as he fastened his own seatbelt. “Let’s go watch some hockey.”

  Jack pulled away from the curb into traffic and the twins settled down to watch the video playing on the in-cab system.

  While dressing for the game, Jem had listened to Resa’s voice saying go for it. Tonight she’d show Jack how big-city girls flirted. The setting couldn’t be better. In a crowded hockey arena, chaperoned by two delightful five-year-olds, she’d could subtly touch, and tempt, to her heart’s desire. He’d accused her of flirting with him the night they’d played darts, but she’d assured him she was simply teasing. She was giddy over the idea of tying him in knots by openly flirting with him.

  As they drove to Boston’s North End, she frequently reached out to touch Jack’s hand, where it rested casually on the seat between them. She ignored the tingly sensation she felt in her own fingers with each touch, pulling her hand away quickly, as if the touch were purely accidental. He took his eyes off the road, glancing in her direction each time her fingers lightly brushed his. Her own gaze boldly caressed his face and body each time she glanced back to address a comment to one of the kids. At one point, she twisted around to hand string cheese to Mason, leaning over the back of the seat as she did so. This action caused her ponytail to swing against Jack’s shoulder and she felt his hand tangle in the curls. She hid a smile at the slight tug on her scalp when he didn’t release the hair fast enough as she faced forward again.

  On the walk from the car park, Jem held hands alternately with Mia and Mason, swinging their arms in time with their steps. Each time they approached a crosswalk, Jack slowed down to watch for cars, grabbing the kids’ hands. The sight of their small hands clasped in his large, elegant ones settled comfortably around Jem’s heart.

  Once they arrived at the arena, Jack escorted Jem and the kids to center ice, settling them in seats ten rows behind the Bruins’ bench. The team was on the ice, warming up.

  “How did you score these seats? I thought we’d be in the nosebleed section, not, you know, courtside.” Jem laughed as she asked him.

  “It’s called a rink, not courtside. That’s basketball,” Jack explained. “See number fifty-five there, the left wing? Sam and I did renovation work on the house he bought just south of Granite Pointe, when Florida traded him to us. He loved what we did and offered us the use of his extra family tickets. We try not to take advantage of it, but we never decline when he calls.”

  “Florida has a hockey team?” Jem smiled at Jack’s short burst of laughter.

  Number fifty-five skated by and raised his stick toward the foursome, at which Mason and Mia jumped up, wildly waving back at him. The player smiled at the twins, revealing a large gap where one of his two front teeth should be. He lowered his stick, stopping a puck sliding his way. Leaving his stick on the puck, he looked up at Mia and winked, making her giggle. He wound up and unleashed on the little black disc, sending it airborne toward the empty net. It hit the cage on the right side pole, ricocheting the puck firmly into the net. Both Mason and Mia shot their arms in the air hollering, “Score!”

  The players cleared the ice, leaping over the railing into their respective boxes as Mia turned toward Jem and raised her arms. Jem picked Mia up and danced in time with the loud music blasting from the overhead speakers. Jem fell in love with the feel of the child’s thin arms wrapped around her neck.

  They took their seats when the referee dr
opped the puck at center ice and Jack began explaining the finer points of the game over Mia’s head. “When the puck crosses the line toward the opposing net, if the offense, the Bruins in this case, crosses the line ahead of the puck, it’s called off sides, and there is a puck drop in the circle closer to the net.”

  Jem strained to hear his explanations, so she lifted Mia out of her seat, scooted one chair closer to Jack, settling the little girl on her lap. She leaned closer to Jack to hear his explanation, her ear so close to his mouth that his breath heated her cheek. He kept up a running dialog of each play, helping her understand. When the Bruins scored, she was astounded by the twins’ excited reaction. But she surged to her feet along with them, enjoying the energy in the arena.

  They sat side-by-side, watching the game. Jem made sure her shoulder and knee brushed Jack’s frequently, her heart fluttering with each contact. She’d glance at his mouth each time he explained a point of the game, as if lip-reading. Her eyes glazed over as she recalled the sensation of those soft, delicious lips caressing hers.

  She could only hope her flirting had the same effect on Jack. However she grew concerned when he stopped responding by the end of the second period. She thought he had enjoyed her effort in the truck on the drive to Boston. Now each time she accidentally touched his thigh or bumped against his shoulder, he didn’t react. Although he sat relaxed, focused on the game, Jem sensed tension in him. A muscle jumped in his jaw with every touch, but he didn’t touch back. He did make eye contact, though Jem found it difficult to read his shuttered expression in the dim rink.

  At the intermission between the second and third period, Jem took Mia to the bathroom and stood in line for their turn. Once they returned to their seat, Jack and Mason got up to go. Mason put his hands on Jem’s cheeks and pulled her toward him.

  “BC and I have to go to the boys locker room, because we have penises, and you don’t. Mine isn’t as big as his.” Mason held up his hands a good distance apart to demonstrate and got his hands pushed down in a heartbeat by Jack. “But BC says I’m growing.”

  Jem’s eyes flashed up to Jack in amusement. In spite of the dim lighting in the arena, she saw pink staining his cheeks. She dropped her eyes quickly, and unfortunately, found herself staring directly at the front of Jack’s jeans. Her own cheeks heated as she desperately trained her focus on Mason.

  “Mason, we’ve talked about this before.” Jack mildly reprimanded the five-year-old. “Gentlemen never discuss the size of their…privates…with ladies. Please apologize to Jem.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Jem.” The stricken look on Mason’s face tugged at Jem’s heart and she smiled sweetly at him.

  “It’s okay, Mason. People make mistakes. Thank you for the apology. I guess you guys should get going before the next period begins.”

  As she watched their departing backs, Jem felt Mia pulling on her sleeve. She put her head down to hear what Mia was saying.

  “Mason’s just showin’ off. Boys aren’t the only people with penises. My mom has one too. And hers is way more special.” Jem held her breath, afraid of what might come next. “Hers is blue, it dances when you press the button. Plus, she can keep it in a box by her bed.”

  Jem was speechless and grateful she’d swallowed a sip of soda she’d taken before Mia made her outrageous statement. Otherwise, she might have spewed a mouthful of her soft drink on the man sitting in front of her.

  Oh God! If she lived to be ninety-five years old, she was never going to be able to unsee that. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, sure any reaction would just encourage the child’s innocent discussion of her mother’s sex toy. Jem was relieved when a classic rock and roll song began playing over the PA system, and Mia jumped out of her seat, grabbing Jem’s hands to dance with her.

  They were both still dancing in front of their seats when Jack and Mason returned. Jem turned as Mason squirmed over the fans seated next to them. She set Mia down to swing the little boy up, and danced with him. Mason threw his head back and laughed as she turned in circles.

  Jem faltered as she caught the look on Jack’s face as he followed. She might have called it stunned, but the look was gone so fast she couldn’t be sure. Right now, this instant, she’d call it clenched. She slowly put Mason down on the seat next to her as Jack made his way down the aisle, staring at her the entire way. The blue of his eyes practically glowed in the reflection from the spotlights on the ice. Breath caught in her throat as he reached her and softly pressed his mouth against hers. That was it. No pressure, no attempt to deepen the kiss, no other body contact. A gentle, sweet, simple caress. Not a kiss that should steal her breath and make her heart pound erratically. But, it did. It was easily the most powerful kiss Jem had ever shared.

  The whistle blew and the moment was over. Mason jumped up and grabbed Jack’s hand, pulling him to the next seat over. Mia asked for a drink and Jem dragged her eyes away from Jack, who bent over to hear what Mason was saying.

  The third period passed in something of a blur for Jem. She watched the action, even understood it, thanks to Jack’s patient explanations. She enjoyed the enthusiasm of the fans around them and joined the crowd when they surged to their feet as the Bruins scored, winning the game. She was wildly aware of Jack, but he didn’t look over or glance at her as he bent his head over one of the kids.

  In spite of the electric kiss, it felt like someone had thrown a cold, wet blanket over both of them.

  She remained distracted as they walked briskly back to the truck to return to Granite Pointe, carrying the tired twins as they went. The bracing air roused her from the gloomy doubts that had consumed her since the beginning of third period. Allowing her to concentrate as she belted Mia into the booster seat in the rear section of the truck cab before climbing in herself.

  Once they reached the highway, Jack kept both hands on the wheel, his eyes facing staunchly forward. She shifted slightly, turning so she could watch him as he competently negotiated through traffic. Unfortunately, she never succeeded in capturing his gaze.

  With the twins dozing in the back seat, the ride home was uncomfortably silent. As they turned into the driveway to drop the kids off, Pippa came outside to help Jack get the kids out of the car.

  “I heard we won,” she said, after greeting them. “Did you enjoy the game?”

  “I did, thanks. I didn’t understand much, but I enjoyed the company. Your kids are extremely well behaved. It was great,” Jem responded, smiling broadly at her as Jack handed Mia into Pippa’s waiting arms before turning back for Mason.

  Pip laughed. “My kids?”

  “I’m going to help Pip settle the kids. I’ll be right back, okay?” He finally smiled at her. “Five minutes, tops.”

  Chapter 15

  Five minutes is plenty of time for doubts to creep up on you. Jem fidgeted nervously with the hat she’d pulled off on the return trip to Granite Pointe waiting for Jack to return. Spending time with him and his niece and nephew this evening had been amazing. Magical. But, what if he didn’t think so? She’d been fooled—cruelly so—into believing her sincere affection was returned before. What if she was the only one turned on by her flirty behavior this evening? She’d listened to Resa’s voice from her shoulder and acted the way she really wanted to around the man. She meant to entice Jack, but anxiety ruled her thoughts. Things had seemed to be heading in exactly the direction she’d intended.

  Until the end of the evening. Jack stopped responding. He’d certainly quit flirting back. What if his speech yesterday—the one about them exploring a relationship together—had been just words? Could her heart survive if she opened up to him, exposing herself once again to a relationship with another man who was completely wrong for her?

  But when he kissed her at the game? The short, sweet, tender kiss…oh dear God, that kiss was indescribable. Was it only a spontaneous expression of affection from one friend to another? Jem had kissed plenty of her male friends the same way, but had never experienced sou
l-searing fire racing through her at the mere brush of Jack’s lips. Maybe she’d misread the stunned look on his face when he returned to their seats with Mason. Was it possible she imagined, or worse, manufactured, the entire reason behind their kiss? God, Jack probably meant it to be just a thanks for watching Mia while I took Mason to the little boy’s room type of kiss. Way to overreact to the situation. Jem shook her head to quell her wild imagination.

  Jack hugged his sister goodbye on the porch and headed back toward his truck. Jem forced herself to keep her eyes on the front of Pippa’s house, rather than glancing over at him as he slid behind the wheel. She swallowed hard to clear her stomach from where it was lodged in her throat. She knew Jack looked at her as he turned the key in the ignition, but she couldn’t force herself to look back at him. If she didn’t look, he couldn’t give her the nice evening, but let’s just be friends speech. Doubts raging, Jem kept her hands tightly clasped in her lap as they drove the short distance to the café and her apartment in silence.

  Jack parked in front of the shop and turned off the truck. He twisted toward her and started to speak, but Jem talked over him.

  “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me tonight. And, for, you know, telling me how the game was played. I enjoyed it. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, around lunch? I think tomorrow will be meatloaf sandwich day. Do you like meatloaf?” She unfastened her seat belt and babbled nervously, reaching for the door handle, planning a fast escape. Like a Band-Aid, it hurt less when ripped away quickly. Who was she kidding? That was a load of crap; it still hurt, just not for as long.

  She squinted her eyes against the sudden glare of the overhead light and heard Jack sigh as he opened his own door. Great—a sigh of relief that the evening was finally over. Just freaking perfect. She was never listening to Resa again.

  “I’ll walk you up and see you safely inside,” he said.

  “You don’t have to. I can get inside by myself.” Jem struggled to keep the hurt out of her tone.