by Caro LaFever
The remark went through him in a soft wave. The truth of it sunk deep. Nina Blanchard was good for him. In so many ways it was hard to catalogue all of them. She brought sunshine into his home—her things mixing with his, her presence filling the space with light, her laughter and chatter surrounding him. His restaurant felt better too—he’d never cooked as well as he did now, his staff appeared happier and more eager to do his will. Even his street seemed infused with her joie de vivre. Her cheery wave from the shop’s window and the merry giggles of the other shop owners as they joined in the planning of the festival made the neighborhood feel as it used to when he’d felt like a man and acted like one too.
His entire life, in a few short weeks, had changed. For the better.
And the center of that change was Nina.
Glancing at the festival plans again, he made a silent promise to her. He needed to return at least a small portion of the happiness she’d given him. Expanding the festivities to another street wasn’t enough. He needed to show her he’d grown, show her she’d made a difference in his life. “I’m going to open the terrace for lunch.”
Lali’s brows rose, amazement chasing across her face. “Just for the day of the festival?”
He was about to say yes, but a ball of tight memories clutched at his throat for a moment. Then, as if one of those charms or witch’s brews Jeanie had shown him swirled inside, the awful memories seeped away. Leaving only determination. “Nom we’ll open for the festival, and after that, it’ll stay open.”
“Luc—”
“I mean it.” A mix of fear and joy surged in him. This step, like so many he’d taken with Nina, was fraught with peril. Every time he stepped away from his old life into the new, a tingle of panic zipped inside. Yet, he kept walking, knowing he had to, and hoping she would be there to catch him if he stumbled. “Don’t doubt me.”
“I rarely doubt you, mon lami. Especially now that you have the love of your life by your side.”
The words stunned him. He wasn’t that far down the path. Not nearly. “Don’t say that.”
Lali’s mouth twisted. “It’s no good hiding any longer.”
“I’m not hiding.” He’d admit to holing up for these last few years, but he’d come out of his shell. Mostly. Still, being pushed out farther bothered him. Like one too many layers of skin was being peeled off.
Not wanting to confess his feelings, he gave her a glare before storming toward the back door. “We’ll need to hire more staff.”
“Oui, are you sure—”
“I’m sure.” Never more sure in his life. He’d spent too long hibernating from life. There might be the remanent of the shell he’d built around him clinging to the last piece of his pain, yet he was willing to take one more step forward. Letting Genia and Ames dictate what he did and thought suddenly seemed beyond stupid. For the first time since that ugly night long ago, he wondered what in the hell he’d been thinking. Yeah, his wife and friend had betrayed him. And yeah, he’d lost his temper.
But he was alive. Still alive.
Very alive when Nina was nearby.
His sous-chef rushed behind him as he strode to the center of the terrace. Staring at the dead fountain, he scowled. “We’ll need to call someone about this.”
“And a lot of other things.” Lali’s voice turned wry. “There’s less than a week before the festival.”
“There’s enough time.” Before he could help himself, he glanced at his club.
He straightened, shock running through him. There was something different about—
“She’s planning it as a surprise for you. Don’t screw it up.”
Swiveling, he gaped at her. “What?”
Lali’s long fingers waved toward the rear of the terrace. “She talked to Cyrus.”
“Nina?”
“Who else? I certainly wouldn’t dare to plan such a thing.”
“Plan what?” He staggered around again to stare at the club.
The changes were subtle, almost imperceptible, if he didn’t have an eagle eye for details. The wooden sign still slapped on the brick wall, unhinged on one side. The ground-level windows were still boarded. But the trim along the doorway had been repaired, the window boxes no longer lurched down like drunken sailors, and the vines had been cut back into a tidy formation.
“She’s done most of the work inside for now.” Lali walked to his side. “Cyrus and I have helped. As a warning, though, she’s got outdoor painters and carpenters lined up for the day before the festival.”
“Mierda.”
“The plan is for your mother to pretend to be extremely sick, so you’ll be gone the entire day.”
Amusement ran through the words, drawing him away from his instinctive reaction of outrage. He stood, staring, not sure what to say or what to do.
“Play along, Luc.” Lali patted his rigid arm. “It means a lot to her.”
“Cyrus called the others?”
“Oui,” she said slowly, as if gauging his temper. “Miles is coming from Kansas City, and Shakey’s already moved in his drum set.”
“How could I have missed this?” The murmur of outrage simmered, yet along with it was astonishment. Nina was incredibly sneaky. “Scheming woman.”
Lali laughed. “She is. Definitely. But all for your benefit.”
A good woman only schemes for love.
Did Nina love him?
Shaking off the thought, he strode to the club and opened the unlocked front door. “Who gave her the keys?”
An amused chuckle was all he got as an answer. And he probably wouldn’t have comprehended a response anyway, because of what hit him as he walked into the main bar.
“Jesucristo,” he whispered.
The stage no longer sagged on one side, and the stools and tables were no longer dusty. Liquor bottles glittered, glass mirrors shone. The red of the walls glowed again, and the leather on all the chairs had been repaired. Even the swirled mahogany ceiling had been cleaned.
A new piano stood in the center of the stage.
“How the hell did she pay for this?”
“Cyrus donated that.” Lali waved at the polished instrument. “He said he couldn’t be asked to play the old, broken-down one.”
A snuff of laughter billowed. He could imagine the old man huffing his disgust. But along with amusement came more disbelief. “She barely keeps her shop afloat. How did she—?”
“Nina has a way about her. She coaxed donations, did some wheedling, that kind of thing.”
“That kind of thing,” he muttered. She did have a way about her. A way of bringing a man to his knees and at the same time, bringing him to life.
“I even gave her some of my savings.”
Turning, he gaped at Lali. The woman who counted every penny, since her goal was to eventually open her own restaurant. “I’ll pay you back.”
Her gaze held fondness, amusement, and a wealth of knowledge. For the first time, he wondered why he’d never thought of Lali in the context of a relationship. She was his stalwart aide, his confidant when he needed one, his best friend. True, he didn’t believe in messing around with staff, and true, she’d never indicated any interest, but still…
“It wouldn’t have worked between us, Luc.”
His brows shot up. Was every woman in the vicinity able to read his mind? “What the hell does that mean?”
“It just wouldn’t.” A decisive nod added to the words. “You need someone like Nina.”
Someone young and filled with a joy he’d lost. Someone who instilled in him the fever of lust and the restless desire to change. Someone who schemed for him instead of against him. “Maybe.”
“Don’t be foolish and lose her.”
“She’s hard to lose.”
His wry tone made his sous-chef chuckle. ”Promise me you won’t let on about the club.”
Sighing, he took another look at what Nina had accomplished. This had been his masterpiece, the place he’d been most proud of. When he’d c
onfronted Genia and Ames, and lost them both and even more, the club had become tarnished in his mind. Somewhere he couldn’t stand to enter. Yet, like so many parts of his life, he needed to take a step forward. “Okay.”
She patted his arm. “You won’t regret it.”
“I’ll play stupid until the night of the festival,” he said grudgingly. “But then I’m going to have a talk with Nina about her scheming.”
Lali chuckled again before heading for the door. “That should be interesting. Meanwhile, we better get going with the prep for tonight’s reservations.”
Knowing she was right, he took one last glance around and then followed her across the terrace and into the kitchen. He fell into the typical rhythm of prepping and cooking. Another stellar night of feeding people delicious cuisine sped by.
“Boss.” Alphonse appeared in the doorway.
“Yeah?” Flipping a pan of scallops over, Luc focused on the food.
“Your parents are here.”
“With no reservations.” His words were dry. “Typical.”
“Actually,” the host’s voice went high, “there is a reservation, except it was under another name. I seated them at table eighteen.”
Lali’s head popped up from studying the incoming orders. “That’s a big table for two.”
“They said they’re expecting guests.” Alphonse stepped aside as a waiter bustled into the kitchen. “Several.”
“How many?” Plating the scallops, Luc took a moment to glance at his host. The man’s usual serenity had been replaced with a distracted air, like he was worried something was about to blow up.
Like the chef.
A frown formed and his gut twitched. This wasn’t about his Aunt Marli and Uncle Marlon joining his parents as they sometimes did. This was something more. “How many, Al?”
The man coughed. “A total of ten.”
“Ten?” His mind boggled. He didn’t have that many living relatives. “Who else?”
The kitchen’s controlled chaos seemed to slow, as if every one of his staff wanted to hear the breaking news.
“Get back to work,” he barked.
Vinny whipped around, focusing on the next dessert. Carmelita flung spinach and feta cheese into a bowl. Al took the chance and ducked into the front of the house. Luc glared at the closing door. “I’ll need to go out there and find out what’s going on.”
“Oui.” Lali’s composure didn’t waver.
He threw her a grim look. “Do you know what’s going on?”
“Not precisely.” A wicked grin crossed her face. “But if I had to guess, it would be something to do with Nina.”
“Something to do with her scheming,” he grumbled as he tugged off his dirty apron.
“Probably,” his sous-chef said with great cheer.
He stomped out of his kitchen, taking a moment in the small foyer to take stock and assess this emerging crisis. Whatever crisis Nina had instigated. Because if his parents were involved and his lover was scheming, sooner or later there would be some sort of crisis for him.
Edging closer to the wall that concealed most of the restaurant, he stuck his head out to peer at table eighteen.
He growled under his breath.
As expected, his parents were seated at the table. Along with his smiling, scheming lover. Her sisters were also in attendance, something he could handle, if he needed to. Jeanie and the presence of Nina would likely curb any of Heni’s inclinations. Both women had men with them—that helped, too.
However, his aunt and uncle were chatting with apparent delight with a strange couple he’d never met. The woman turned, and he knew in an instant, this was Nina’s mother. The same heart-shaped face, the same brown, wispy hair, the same languid air. The man looked sour, as if he’d recently sucked on a lemon.
Nina’s father?
Luc stared at the man. From the little Nina had said, he got the sense she didn’t get along with the man. He could see why. While his lover was all lightness and happiness, this man looked like he majored on misery and dark thoughts.
Rather like he’d been himself not too long ago.
The thought stopped him for a moment.
But then, his attention was caught by the old man sitting at the head of the table. He looked like an old-fashioned grandee. A trimmed goatee graced his aristocratic jaw and his alert gaze missed nothing as the people circling the table chattered while he stayed silent. Even the way he sat, commanding the table with his powerful presence, spoke of grandeur and stately power.
While he watched, Nina leaned toward the old man, putting a hand in the center of his chest. Just as she did when she was making love to Luc every night. He’d thought the gesture uniquely theirs, a touch to his heart she only gave him.
A grunt of anger rumbled from his throat.
Her head swung around and her gaze latched onto his. “Luc!”
Every head at the table turned toward him. He could no longer hide. With a grimace, he headed toward the crowd. “What a surprise.”
She didn’t let the obvious disgruntlement in his voice faze her. Which was typical Nina. Bouncing to a stand, she hurried over to him and clutched his fist in her open hand. A beaming smile lit her face. “Our families wanted to meet.”
“Really?” His brows rose as he glanced at his mami. She was beaming, too, which told him another woman in his life was scheming, as well. “And you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“It’s a surprise.” His displeasure still didn’t dim her pleasure. “Come and meet everyone.”
The person he wanted to meet wasn’t her mother or her father. He wanted to know who the old man was, the man she’d laid her hand on. Curiosity quelled his irritation for the moment. “Lead on.”
She danced back to the table, standing behind the couple he’d already identified. “This is my mama and papa.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” the woman gushed, her brown eyes alive with interest.
Luc grunted, realizing there was a strand of amusement winding through his other emotions. He suddenly felt like a stupid high school boy meeting his first girlfriend’s parents. Genia hadn’t had any family to speak of, and she’d picked him, rather than the other way around. He’d never had to deal with a mother’s inspection of her daughter’s beau.
Nina laughed. “Don’t just grunt, saleau. Say something.”
“No nicknames.”
His mami threw him a look that told him he was in trouble. His popa appeared displeased.
Calling on long-forgotten training in good manners, he strode to the couple and took the man’s outstretched hand. “Welcome to El Porras.”
“We’re looking forward to the meal,” Nina’s father said with a pinched frown.
Apparently he wasn’t, and Luc never had much time for people who lied to his face. Dropping the man’s hand with a forced smile, he focused on the head of the table.
“This is my Paw-Paw.” Nina waved a languid hand at the old man, but there was something in her voice that caught his interest.
Glancing at her, he noted the slight frown on her brows and the edge of worry in her smoky eyes. What was she concerned about? That her grandfather wouldn’t like him or that he wouldn’t like the old man?
“Paw-Paw.” She placed her hand on one broad, yet stooped shoulder. “This is Luc Miró.”
The man stood. Unlike her father, his gaze didn’t shift this way and that. Unlike her father, his handshake wasn’t limp and noncommittal. And unlike her father, this man wasn’t a liar.
Luc knew it right to the center of his soul.
“Mais, Miró.” The old man didn’t let his hand go and his eyes narrowed. “My Nina has talked non-stop about you for weeks.”
“Has she?” His hand tightened on the old hand, an instinctive response to the unspoken challenge.
It struck him then. Like a bolt of hurricane lightning, a heated missile sent by God. His family and hers. Nina talking non-stop about him to her relatives. Her mother and his mami
staring at him as if waiting for him to act.
Jesucristo.
Shock rippled through him and his hand jerked out of the old man’s. Sure, he enjoyed Nina in his life and sure, he wanted more. Yeah, he liked the sex and and yes, he might be in love. Still, this wasn’t about enjoying and loving. This was about expectation and commitment.
Something he wasn’t ready for. Something he’d screwed up on five years ago.
“My name is Bade Blanchard.” The grandee’s expression turned cold. “You can call me Mr. Blanchard.”
“Paw-Paw.” Nina’s breathless voice came from his side. “Don’t be ugly.”
Panic sliced into him, its talons sinking like daggers into his dazed mind. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”
“Lucas.” His mami tutted.
Before he sank farther into this pit of family and togetherness, he lurched toward his safety. “Enjoy your meals.”
A dead silence fell behind him, as he raced for the place he’d hid in for so long.
Chapter 26
Nina considered herself an optimist, but tonight’s dinner had been a spectacular disaster any way she looked at it.
And it was all Luc’s fault.
The man could have been semi-cordial to her family. He could have conducted himself with an iota of grace. Knowing his mother and father as she did now, he could have used the manners he’d been taught as a child.
A huff came from her.
His kitchen was dark because it was designed to be a lure. He’d come into his courtyard and think she’d gone to bed. Likely, he’d grunt with relief and stride into this room, thinking he’d been saved from a confrontation for at least a few hours.
He’d be wrong.
The stupid saleau.
Folding her arms in front of her, she slumped on a stool and waited.
Paw-Paw had said little, but she knew him. He hadn’t been impressed. And more than anything in her life, she’d wanted her grandfather and the man she loved with all her heart to approve of each other. She hadn’t cared when her papa whined about his fish or her mama told her Luc was very rich—as if that was a consideration she cared about. What she’d cared about was the two most important men in her life connected.
