by Judy Kentrus
By the end of the day, his assistants had literally taken the bull by the horns and sent him a report. Tracey located a local general contractor who agreed to handle the entire project. They would start Tuesday evening and work through the night to set the new floor. The new bathroom would be installed while the room was being painted. The kitchen would go in over the weekend and they expected total completion by next Monday morning.
The rest of Caleb’s week was spent visiting the store to inspect the progress and coordinating with his marketing department. He met with the store manager and put her in charge of the Helping Hand program in the store.
By Friday, the major renovations had been completed. The tables and the furniture for Mrs. Santa’s reading area were in their receiving department. He personally selected the artificial tree and theme ornaments−trains and planes. A lighted angel would set atop the tree.
He wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d missed Erin like crazy. She’d sent him three brief emails asking how things were going and he gave her updates as things were happening. Every afternoon he’d watch out the front window like a love-sick teenager, waiting for her to come home. Like clockwork, she’d pull into her driveway precisely at four fifteen, but she and Danni would hop back in the car a half hour later. He couldn’t imagine where they could be going or what they were doing. Then he remembered the boards with sticky notes and he wondered how anyone could be so busy.
Now it was Friday and he hoped she wouldn’t be too busy this weekend. He had it bad and really needed to see her. He got back from the store a little after lunch and spent the afternoon in his garage, assembling the three portable work benches and putting together the super flyers’ tool boxes. The plane kits would arrive on Monday and hopefully he could set up their first meeting.
Caleb lifted the garage door to let in some fresh air and wiped his hands on a blue mechanic’s cloth. A smile filled his face. “Right on time,” he said, observing Erin’s Toyota coming down the street. Normally she parked in the driveway, but this time she pulled directly into the garage and closed the door.
“Damn, I need an excuse to go over there,” he mumbled to himself just before an idea popped into his head.
“You did what!” Erin asked, putting away the perishables in the refrigerator. Every Friday after school she shopped for groceries.
“I volunteered you to make tamales for our international pot-lucky thing Monday night at school.” Danni helped herself to a container of yogurt and a bunch of grapes.
“That’s pot-luck. I don’t know how to make them. Our Mexican food comes out of a box. I know it’s a joint third-grade class event, but I wasn’t supposed to make food.”
“I know how busy you are and there isn’t any room in your schedule, but this afternoon the teacher said the kid who picked Mexico won’t be able to be there, so I volunteered you.”
Erin hesitated, lining up the rest of her containers of yogurt on the middle shelf. Being reminded about her strict schedule by her own daughter was troubling. The other night, Daniel had said something to the same effect. She glanced at the three rows of yogurt, perfect aligned. All the flavors were in alphabetical order. Disappointing her daughter took precedence over deciding whether or not she was a compulsive weirdo. She glanced at the post-it notes on her board; with some maneuvering, she could fit it in. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll go online and see how to make them.”
“I knew you could do it!” Danni threw her arms around her mother. “The teacher said to tell you the last head count was seventy.”
“Seventy people,” she muttered in frustration. “We’ll talk more after dinner. Why don’t you start your homework?”
“But it’s Friday!”
“You have a full day of activities tomorrow and Sunday you’re going to the 4-H riding competition at the Double C with Jayden’s family. Get it done and after dinner we’ll hang out and watch a movie. You pick.”
“That’s a deal!” Danni went to leave the kitchen but hesitated. “Mom, even if you are a neat-freak, you’re the best mother in the world.”
“Ah, thanks, I guess.” Neat-freak? How was she going to make tamales for seventy people? They were delicious, if made correctly. There was a woman in their church who made them for their annual church fair but she was currently in Vermont, visiting her daughter for the holidays. Erin grabbed her tablet from her school backpack that she’d set inside the small closet just off the kitchen and helped herself to a glass of iced tea before sitting down at the table. Pinterest had a lot of recipes, but the instructions weren’t quite explicit so she went on YouTube. “Soak corn husks in a bowl of hot water! That’s insane and what the hell is Masa Harina? This is going to take hours! I don’t have large steamer pots!”
The panic in her body surged the more videos she watched, and she almost jumped when her cell phone indicated an incoming text message. Her dismay at the thought of making tamales transitioned into a different kind of excitement when she read the caller ID. Daniel!
She missed him like crazy and wished she had some excuse to go over to the house to see him. Twice this week she’d woken up in the middle of the night. Her camisole top and matching shorts were damp, an after-effect of the sensuous dream she’d enjoyed with the PR man that ended much too soon. The first dream they were in this fancy train car, right out of the Wild West. She was stretched out on a velvet couch, wearing nothing but a red feather in her hair. He was gloriously naked, but for a train conductor’s cap and a silver whistle dangling from a chain around his neck. He’d just lifted her legs over his shoulders and lowered his mouth to relieve the burning ache between her thighs, when she woke up. The second dream they were both naked but for Santa hats. He was driving a sleigh, hollering all aboard, and she was riding him, screaming ho, ho, ho. He was making her batty day and night! She suddenly remembered his message.
“Can I come over? I made Taco Lasagna and thought you might like some for dinner.”
Her finger shook slightly when she typed in her three-letter answer. YES!!!!!
“Be there in a few. Ten more minutes in the oven. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too” she replied and quickly added, “I missed you.”
“I just confessed to missing him! Too late now, can’t take it back.”
She hurried into her bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and white shirt with the words ‘I believe in Unicorns.’ She ran a brush through her hair and added soft pink lip gloss. “Good enough.”
She walked down the short hallway and stopped outside the door of Danielle’s bedroom. Shortly after her father’s death, she had to go to the house and clean out her father’s personal belongings and furniture. The house and surrounding property belonged to the church.
The light oak bedroom set she’d used as a child was still in the attic. Danielle thought it cool that she could sleep in the same bed as her mother. Her daughter chose a blue and white theme for her room, the colors of the Dallas Cowboys. The curtains on the two windows and bedspread reflected the team’s logo.
The other thing her daughter liked to do was collect rocks. Two shelves on either side of the window displayed an assortment of rocks she’d found while exploring with her friends. This year Santa was going to give Danni a stone polisher for Christmas.
Danielle was sitting at the same small desk Erin had used as a child, doing her homework. She approached the desk and turned on the lamp. “You can see better in the light. You don’t have special vision like your super friends.”
“Stop, you can’t look!” Danni said and quickly covered a drawing on the side of her desk with one of her workbooks. “It’s not done. I have to bring it to school on Monday. They’re going to hang our pictures on the bulletin board outside our classroom so the parents can see them Monday night. We have to draw some of our favorite things.”
“Okay, fair enough. I look forward to seeing your picture.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
Erin perched a hip on the side o
f the desk and brushed a hand through the tangled hair on the side of her daughter’s head. Despite the nightly complaints after her shower, “You’re pulling all the hair out of my head! That hurts,” Erin was glad her daughter didn’t want short hair.
“Now what?”
“I really feel sorry for Mr. Thompson. He’s going to be sad on Christmas. I want to give him a present, but I don’t have very much money.”
“Why don’t you make him something? It would mean so much more to him. I came in here to tell you Mr. Thompson is bringing dinner.”
“That’s cool. I want to talk to him about our flying club. We decided on a logo. Don’t tell him about my surprise.”
“My lips are sealed.”
She walked into the living room with its picture window that overlooked the front of the house. Decorating had never been her forte, but the room was comfortable with a beige sectional sofa and two arm chairs. The tall grandfather clock and the two light oak end tables had belonged to her parents. A small oak hutch that had also belonged to her parents held photos of Danielle from the time she was born to her most recent school photo. They jokingly called the photos ‘Danielle through the ages.’
She’d indulged her daughter and purchased a flat screen television. The house was perfect for the two of them, but someday she’d like to have a den or family room.
She pushed the sheer curtain aside and watched Daniel walk across the street. He was wearing those damn boots with his jeans and pale green T-shirt. A picture of him naked, wearing that conductor’s hat, flashed through her mind. He’d wrapped a towel around his casserole dish. Casserole dish!
“That’s it!” He’d barely stepped onto the front stoop when she pulled the door open. “Do you know how to make tamales?”
Chapter 8
Caleb hesitated before stepping into the house. “Excuse me?”
Erin slammed the door with her hip and put a hand to his elbow to guide him into the kitchen. “Sorry for blurting that out, but I’m in desperate need to find someone who can make tamales. We just got home from grocery shopping—I go every Friday after school—and I have plenty of food, but you bringing dinner is a time-saver.” Erin inhaled the mouth-watering aroma when he set it on the hot pad she’d already placed in the center of the table.
“That smells delicious.
“I just took it out of the oven and it should settle for about a half hour.”
“Good, that will give me time to fold my cloth grocery bags.”
Caleb pulled out a chair and sat down, enjoying the vivacious woman who had become a part of his every waking thought and starred in a few nighttime fantasies. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had a feverish sparkle. He liked that she was frazzled. It probably didn’t happen very often.
“Now let’s start again,” he said when she hung up her folded grocery bags in the small pantry. “Hi Erin, how are you. Now you’re supposed to respond, ‘Hi Daniel, how are things going at the store?’ I say, great. All of the basic reconstruction has been done and, come Monday, we can start setting up the room. On a personal note, my week has been very depressing because I didn’t get to see your beautiful face and happy smile. I’ve missed you like crazy. Now you’re supposed to repeat what you sent in your text message. I might even suggest a kiss hello.”
An easy, agreeable smile blossomed on her face when she took a step closer and traced the barely visible jagged line on his cheek with the tip of her finger. “Hi Daniel, I missed you, too. The angel’s mark is almost gone.”
“No, she’s right in front of me and you’ve sidestepped my suggestion.” Standing this close her breasts, covered in a soft shirt, were inches from his mouth. It took all of his self-control not to lean forward and enjoy a gentle nip.
“You really make me crazy, you know that?” she said, keeping her voice low. “I love your suggestion.” She cupped his chin and lowered her head. “You didn’t have to suggest a kiss because that was the first thing I wanted to do when you walked through the door, but I was in a panic about tamales.”
He moved his legs from under the table and his hands took possession of her slender hips to place her between his legs. “Kiss first, tamales later.” He watched her lower her mouth, and the moment their lips met his hands moved up her back to bring her flush against him. Her golden red hair fell forward and formed a fiery curtain about them. He needed to taste more of her and drew her to sit on his thigh, deepening the delicious kiss. When her knee settled against the hardness in his groin, he almost lost it and prayed she wouldn’t move. She did. His moan of ache and want formed a knot in his throat and took his breath away.
Erin had never enjoyed a kiss more and relaxed her body into his solid chest. Her dreams the other night were pure fantasy, but her flesh and blood PR man was very real. She wanted to tell herself this had to stop, but it was too late. She’d fallen hard and fast. Her arms automatically tightened around his neck and the fast cadence of his pulse beat against the palm of her hand, matching her own. She opened her mouth slightly, issuing an invitation. He accepted and his tongue courted hers in a slow dance. Temptation made her stroke her knee against the stiff bulge between his legs, making her weep between her thighs.
Their sexy encounter ended abruptly when she heard the toilet flush.
Erin forced herself to lower her arms and stand up, stepping quickly away from temptation. The potent taste of his lips still clung to her mouth. “Oh, man, if you can cook like you kiss, I’ll be bringing a gourmet meal!” She suddenly realized what she’d just blurted and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. “I did it again!”
When he burst out laughing, she put a hand over his mouth. “Stop! Danni is going to come in here and ask what’s so funny!”
Caleb took her hand off of his mouth and placed a little kiss on her palm. “I’ll return the compliment. You are potent, something you already know since you had your knee in my groin and know what you started. If you kiss me like that, I’ll make all the tamales you want. Tell me. Did you move your knee on purpose?”
“If I said no, I’d be lying. So, yes.”
“You are a wicked temptress. Why don’t I tell Danielle dinner is ready? I think we both need a few minutes to calm down. First I need to use the bathroom.”
Erin’s eyes dropped to the front of his jeans. “Good idea. I’ll set the table.”
How do I get myself into these things? My life was uncomplicated, in totally smooth running order. Then a PR man asks me to do him a favor, and I’ve suddenly developed diarrhea of the mouth and have erotic dreams about a hot naked guy with glasses. I’m standing here in my kitchen with a throb between my legs, and my panties are wet. I think I’m in love.
How am I going to act as if nothing has happened? she asked herself, setting the plates, utensils, and glasses on the table. She’d surprised herself when she admitted to touching him on purpose. Over the years she’d had a couple relationships, but she was never aggressive or sexually curious when it came to having sex. But there was something special about Daniel Thompson. Just one kiss reached out to the woman with unfulfilled longings and made her want more, so much more.
She gave them a smile when they walked into the kitchen. “Right on time.”
Danni held a notebook in her hand and set it down next to her plate on the table. “After we eat, I’ll show you the logo we came up with for the Super Flyers.”
“I’d like that.” Caleb concentrated on removing the towel and foil from the casserole. “I hope you like Taco Lasagna.”
“We both like tacos, so I’m sure we’ll like your dish. I forgot to ask what you wanted to drink. Iced tea, water, milk?” Erin was about to get up from the table when Daniel put a hand on her arm.
“I’ll put this foil in the garbage and get the drinks at the same time. I need something with a lot of ice,” he added with a devilish grin.
“I’ll take iced tea, too,” she returned, giving him a warning stare. “Danni will have milk.”
When he opened
the refrigerator, he stopped and stared at the perfectly aligned items, especially the containers of yogurt.
Erin wondered why he hesitated in getting their drinks. “Is something wrong? It’s in a container on the door, marked Iced Tea.”
Caleb lifted the opaque pitcher and brought it to the table. “Do you always alphabetize your yogurt? I’ve never seen labeled compartments in a refrigerator.”
“My mom wants to make sure everything gets put where it belongs,” Danni said, just before she took a bite of her lasagna. “This is really good, Mr. Thompson. My mom’s Mexican food comes out of a box. Do you know how to make tamales? I volunteered her to make them for our international food party at our school Monday night, but she doesn’t know how to make them.”
“Thanks a lot, Danielle. You make me sound like an inept boob.”
“Your mom told me about the tamales and I’ll be glad to help. We have to decide on a time. We can use my kitchen since I have the large steamer pots.” Caleb directed his statement to Erin and added a teasing wink. “I’m very eager to help you make them.”
Erin kicked him under the table, but jammed her toe on his damn boot. “Let me check my schedule after dinner. Most likely it will have to be late Sunday morning, after church.”
“I’ll go shopping in the morning to get the ingredients. How many do you need?”
“My teacher said seventy people signed up to come,” Danni said.
“No problem, we’ll make a hundred.”
As soon as they’d finished, Danielle helped her mother clean off the table and load the dishwasher. When Caleb offered to help, Danni said this was how she earned her allowance.
Erin had just served coffee when Danielle opened her notebook to show Caleb the club’s ideas for their shirts and hats.
“It’s funny-looking because we can’t draw good, but we like a blue plane with a red cape and the words Super Flying Club underneath in white letters, you know, red, white and blue like Captain America. He’s really cool.”
