by Brit Blaise
"Felicia is wrong. It wasn't that woman."
"It was another one? I think I'm out of my element here. Oh, no, she's headed this way. I think it's time to visit the ladies room."
"You have no reason to feel threatened by Janet Madsen. Besides, knowing her like I do, I think she'd just follow you."
"Didn't Felicia say she wouldn't interfere again? I could swear by the look on her face she's enjoying this.” Cara pasted her best smile on her face.
"Mike, I was hoping to find you here tonight. I'm on a plane in the morning, or I wouldn't interrupt you otherwise.” Janet Madsen stared at Cara while she spoke to Mike. “I'm an old friend of Mike's ... Janet Madsen.” She held her hand out to Cara.
"Cara.” She took hold of the woman's hand.
Janet's gaze went to Mike. “I thought you'd like to know Larry and I are still together, happier than ever. We are expecting our first child in less than three months.” She patted her flat stomach.
"You're got to be kidding,” Cara's mouth said, before her brain went into gear.
"Trust me. I wouldn't kid about something like this."
"I just meant ... you don't even look pregnant, let alone over six months along. Not that I'm an expert or anything.” Cara touched her hand to her own stomach under the cover of the table. What would she look like pregnant? Why on earth would she wonder such a thing? Holy cannelloni.
"I owe so much to Mike. If it weren't for him, I don't think my husband would have asked me to marry him when he did. Mike helped me make him jealous and forced him into making a quick decision before he left for a job in Europe without me."
Cara picked up the small tray of appetizers the waiter had brought and held it up. The woman dismissed the food with a wave of her hand while she continued to talk.
"Mike and I both believe in love at first sight. Larry, on the other hand, thought I was just a nut. Mike helped me convince Larry we had the real thing, even if we'd only known each other for a couple of days.” Janet Madsen's face radiated her happiness.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?” Janet pinned Cara with another stare.
Cara choked on the appetizer she'd just put in her mouth. “I believe in love at first bite."
"Mike's the right man for you then."
Cara knew the woman referred to Mike's cooking, but that's not what came to mind. As Mike's gaze trapped her, too, she felt the blood rush to her face.
"So that how it is between you two.” Janet tittered.
"You didn't really answer. Do you believe in love at first sight?” Mike wasn't letting Cara off Janet's baited hook.
Cara's heart stopped for a second time. He really wanted to know. Why? Surely not because...
"Sorry,” Janet said, looking at Cara. “Let's change the subject. What happened to your nose and hands?"
"Felicia happened. If the subject is Felicia falling face first into a vat of red dye, I'm game."
Mike squeezed her hand. “Actually, Janet has the key to your symbolic vat of red dye and she doesn't know it."
"Tell,” Janet said.
"We broke up because Felicia thought I slept with you. I couldn't convince her otherwise."
Janet huffed. “That doesn't make sense. If you really wanted to dissuade her, I'm sure you could have. Maybe subconsciously you wanted to break-up with her."
"Not subconsciously. I very consciously refused to be married to a woman who thought me capable of cheating on her. To this day, she doesn't believe I didn't sleep with you."
"And the truth would be your proverbial pot of red dye?” Janet asked.
"You got it,” Mike said. “The last thing Felicia would care to hear right now is she was wrong about me."
"What do you think?” Janet asked Cara. “Should I set her straight?"
"I think she should be set straight, regardless of how I feel about her,” Cara said. How painful it must have been for him. At that moment she knew, no matter what else passed between them, she could trust him.
Janet gave wink. “I think I'll say hello to Felicia before I go ... red dye and all that."
Cara watched Mike stand to kiss his friend farewell. It would seem Felicia had made a grievous error.
"Now you know my sordid past, what about yours?” Mike asked. “How did you manage to escape marriage?"
"I was engaged as a freshman in college. Stan was a junior, a finance major like me. I thought nothing could be more perfect, until I slept with him. He was ready. I wasn't. Time didn't improve matters, so nearly two years later, when Stan was out in the world spreading his wings, the promises he made to me suddenly weren't as important as they had been while we were in school together.
"Stan cheated on me. Several times, in fact, before I confronted him. The final outcome seemed inevitable, and I was left feeling Stan strayed because of my inadequacy, instead of a character deficiency on Stan's part. I met Corey on the rebound. We were as different as night and day, but we managed to replay much of the bad stuff I'd experienced with Stan, down to the number of years we were together and the reason for our break-up.
"I've dated very little since Corey. I just haven't been able to connect with anyone, either emotionally or—certainly not any other way."
"Did you ever think it wasn't so much a matter of being ready as not finding a man who knows what a woman needs? So you haven't been involved with anyone for a while?” Mike sounded happy with the idea.
"Nope."
"After Felicia and I broke up, I took the opposite tactic and went a little crazy. I dated almost every night of the week. It took me about a year to get her out of my system. Now, as I look back on it, I don't think I took it so hard because I was crazy in love with her. I loved her, but I think I loved being in love. I looked forward to starting a family and losing Felicia threw me for a loop. It didn't fit into my life-plan. During the last year, I've mended my bad ways. Until I met you."
"Are you saying you've been bad with me? I disagree. I think you've been good. Too good."
"You want to give me another chance to show you just how bad I can be?” He reached down and laid his hand on her leg while his eyes burned into hers.
Cara uncrossed her legs, knowing she was issuing an invitation. He took his hand away and a wave of disappointment washed over her. He inched his chair as close to her as he could get and put his arm around her.
Not the same. Cara tried not to show her frustration.
With his free hand, he poured two glasses of wine. “Have a drink,” he told her.
Cara picked up her glass and put it to her mouth, when she suddenly felt his hand run up her inner thigh. She choked on the wine and sat the glass back on the table.
"Don't care for the taste?” he asked. He had his hands between her legs, all the way up. She didn't worry about anyone seeing them with the long tablecloth hiding his movements.
"It's great,” she answered, and they both knew she didn't mean the wine. He knew how to touch a woman just the right way.
"Wet and silky. Just a hint of musky bouquet,” he said. He ran his finger inside her panties and then back out to pull her closest leg across his until she was half sitting on him, with her legs spread wide.
"I'm going to owe you a pair of panties,” he said and gave them a tug. Cara heard them rip. The sound made her breathe harder while she anticipated where his hand would soon be.
Seated where she could see out into the restaurant, she tried to appear nonchalant as he slipped a finger inside her. That didn't work, so she moaned instead. “That feels soooo..."
"It's only the beginning,"
He moved the finger in and out, fucking her until Cara had to grab hold of the table. “Oh, no. We're about to have comp ... Oh."
"Are you ready to order yet, boss?” one of the waiters asked.
"Let's see,” Mike slid a second finger inside her while he stared at her, daring her to speak.
Her cunt clenched hard. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the table and made her best attempt to appear normal whi
le the waiter waited for her answer..
"What do you think, Cara? Are you ready?” He managed to pull his fingers free, despite how tight she was holding them, and moved up to her clit.
She grabbed her glass and raised it in front of her face. He had a rhythm going, and she could feel her clit tent up to meet his touch. She was going to come.
Right then.
The glass shook in her hand as she still held it to her mouth.
He paused the movement. “Perhaps another bottle of wine. Something with a lovely, ripe fruit. A vintage with a finely delineated creamy fruit, something silky, just at its peak."
"Right away.” The waiter looked a bit confused, but left. Thankfully. She erupted into an orgasm. Mike thrust his fingers back inside and fucked her with them. The sensation doubled in intensity and sharply increased her pleasure. She was about to scream when he kissed her to silence her. All the while he worked his magic inside her.
"Holy cannolli."
"You have a great G-spot."
"I have experienced things in less than a week that I've never even imagined. Riva was so wrong.” Cara pulled her face back until she could see his eyes. “You aren't the sure thing, I am."
"I think it's time we find a bed and do this right."
With his fingers still buried inside she squeezed him to let him know she agreed.
"There you are. And Cara, I hoped to find you here."
"Mom?” Mike said.
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CHAPTER 10
A slow-moving train hit him. Mike should have been able to avoid it, but it flattened him anyway. And some people thought his mother was a sweet, little lady. She was more like a mob boss, getting her own way with a nod of her silvery head.
The night he'd planned with Cara didn't happen. Several days later it still hadn't happened. His frustration level was at an all-time high. That night in the restaurant, his mother had somehow managed to send Cara home and him to bed. Alone.
Cara's mother kept them apart after that. The mother and daughter left for a three-day trip they'd planned long before he met her. She promised him she'd be at his class Monday afternoon, but he thought she was being overly optimistic. Even with Felicia's reassurance she'd do nothing to make Cara look bad again, he thought it would be too difficult for her to return.
Yet here he stood, a scant few minutes before class was to start, anxiously waiting to catch a glimpse of her face. He'd vacillated all week about what to prepare that wouldn't cause a problem for Cara should she choose to join them. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? No, she might consider it condescending.
Mike looked at his watch. Ten more minutes and Felicia would bring the class to his kitchen. He wondered if he would look too eager if he went out to the lobby to see if Cara had come. He smiled, thinking about her red-tipped nose, a memory to last a lifetime.
Janet's words about love at first sight had been on his mind for days. If he were faced with asking Cara to marry him right then or take a chance of losing her forever, there was no question about it. He would ask her to marry him, even though he had only known her a couple of weeks. Every other woman he'd been with had only been a whisper of what life could be with Cara.
"Hello, stranger.” Cara's voice issued a throaty invitation to his libido. No matter what came out of her mouth, the effect was always same.
Her sensuous voice traced a path of arousal to his core. A hot tide of passion took him by surprise as he bolted across the room to take her into his arms. He pulled her against him, savoring the sensation of her softness yielding to his body.
A slow smile crossed her face, telling him she understood. She threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his. A knockout blow of desire left him weak in the knees and sent him reeling. This kiss broke all the rules, leaving no doubt in his mind. He loved her.
"Where's your whisk?” Her warm breath caressed him when she pulled her lips free. “And just so you know, I don't care what we have to do to make it happen, but you're going to make love to me tonight."
Mike groaned. “Did you do this to me on purpose?"
"You better hide behind your counter before the cameramen show up.” She surveyed the kitchen. “Where are they anyway? Shouldn't they be here preparing to torment me?"
Mike looked at their equipment lying unattended. “I told them I needed a couple of minutes to myself. Under the circumstances, I'm glad I did."
Cara reached up to kiss him again, beginning with a nibble on his chin before she worked toward his mouth.
"Cara,” he managed to say before she attacked. The easy caress of her lips led to a demanding blast of need, while she short-circuited his senses.
"Are you trying to make it harder on me? Trust me. It isn't possible."
When she abandoned his lips to burrow into the hollow of his neck, he discovered he'd erred.
"Are you sure about that?” She snuggled against him, her fingertips in his hair as she pulled his head down. When their lips touched for the third time, he entered an alternate realm. He could feel himself trembling before she eventually let go of him.
"Ahem."
The sound of someone clearing a throat brought him back to his senses. All three cameramen stood watching them. Two of them appeared to be amused, however, one wore a mask of ill-concealed censure. Mike needed to talk to Felicia about replacing him.
Cara pulled him back to whisper in his ear. “You better stick close to me and get behind the counter."
No sooner did they manage to make it to the safety of the counter than Felicia entered with her troops in tow. Mike did a double take. More of the women had changed their hair color to varying shades of red. Mike glanced at Cara to see if she noticed.
"See what you started?” he said.
Cara rolled her eyes. “I can't believe what I'm seeing. Tell me it isn't true."
Time for business ... “Please come in, everyone, and take your places. Make sure not to trip over a cord as you walk. We don't want any mishaps today."
Felicia flashed him a wary glance. He didn't believe she'd be foolish enough to pull any stunts.
"The make-up man will be around to see if you need a touch-up.” Felicia picked up an armful of aprons, distributed them among the women and avoided eye contact with Cara.
Mike raised his hand. “Your attention, please, ladies. Last week Felicia passed out an agenda for this week's class. I have decided we'll save the baked Alaska for another day. After much thought and advice from Betty, I've decided to repeat one of our most popular classes. You have two recipe cards in front of you, chicken kebabs with green peppercorn vinaigrette, and cherry soup.
"Take a few seconds to read the recipes, while Felicia passes out the plastic gloves."
Cara took the pair of gloves handed to her and held them up to the light.
Smart woman.
"Let's get our soup cooking and then we'll begin the kebabs. Felicia made sure you all have eight ounces of fresh cherries sitting in front of you. Pull on your plastic gloves and begin by removing the stems. Take the cherry pitter in front of you and push the small plunger in the hole where you just removed the stem. Pit the cherry. Anyone who wishes is welcome to take her pitter home, if you don't already have one."
Cara held her pitter in front of her like it was something to pull a tooth. The frown on her beautiful face made him chuckle.
"Don't be afraid of it,” he told her.
"People actually have these things in their homes? Who?” she demanded.
"People who enjoy eating fresh cherries. Ladies, how many of you already have a cherry pitter?"
Only his mother raised her hand.
Cara raised an eyebrow.
"Just pit your cherries.” A smile grew in his heart. He'd never seen a woman look more attractive with a kitchen tool in her hand.
"Ladies, when you've finished your cherries, put them in a pot and wait until everybody is ready to proceed together.” Mike held his breath as Cara worked. S
hort of squeezing her finger in the pitter, he couldn't imagine what could go wrong. If she happened to perforate her gloves, it would hardly make a difference, since her hands were still red from the doctored beets.
While Cara didn't prove to be a problem, many of the others seemed unable to handle the simple task. The complaints ranged from too slippery, to too sticky and everything in between. Even fifteen minutes after kissing Cara, Mike couldn't walk from behind the counter, though. All the entreaties for his assistance kept the helpers jumping. Luckily, he'd had the forethought to hire additional staff.
"I broke a nail in the pitter,” he heard exclaimed at the end of the counter from the first woman who'd gone from blonde to red in the second class. He'd figured he'd have a problem with her.
"Mix half of your cherries with a half a cup of white wine. Bring it to a boil and then reduce the heat. We are going to let it simmer until the cherries are soft."
"Is this something easy to burn?” Cara asked suspiciously.
"As soon as you see it bubbling, turn the heat down to low and you shouldn't have a problem,” he told the entire class, as he tried to be careful about every word he said to Cara.
"Too bad you couldn't think of anything to make that didn't involve using a stove,” Cara quipped, but he could hear the worry in her voice.
"This is a cooking class, Cara. It's pretty hard to cook without a stove."
"Is there ever a time when a person might feel comfortable with one? I think stoves are the closest things we have in the twenty-first century to compare with dragons."
"All right, I'll bite. Why does a stove resemble a dragon?"
Cara tossed her hair and started toward the stove with her pan, pausing to look back over her shoulder. “They're big, intimidating, and sometimes they're smelly. And worst of all, they breathe fire on occasion. In my case, more often than not. However, I don't seem to mind so much when I have a knight in shining armor ready to come to my rescue."
Mike couldn't help grinning at her silly analogy. The smile she returned captivated him, and he began to relax. He would always want to be her hero.
When Cara sailed through both the soup and vinaigrette without a hitch, Mike started to believe their problems might be behind them. Cara didn't have a problem ... He, on the other hand, didn't seem to be able to keep his tool ... cool. Temperatures in the kitchen heated up and it had nothing to do with the stoves. Cara's disarming smiles sent his pulse racing. The sound of her voice scorched him, sending flames of arousal shooting through his body. Smitten man walking—parole denied. Mike figured he'd received a life sentence.