by Lauren Dane
She laughed again. “I’m not the best cook in the world. But lucky for you, my friend is one of those talented cooks and she brought me a huge amount of food just this morning. I can’t tell you what any of it is. I just tucked it all into my fridge. But I can guarantee whatever it is you’ll love.”
“And you live in your own place?”
“No. Of course not. I live in a dorm with all my college pals. We play beer pong and have pillow fights in our underpants while giggling.”
He’d been about to frown at her until she made the pillow fighting comment and then he went there in his head and had to fight off a hard-on at the thought.
She handed him a business card. “My house is here. Well, not the gallery part. I live in a small house on the same lot. Mine is the one with the blue shutters. You can meet me there in a bit. I need to take these figs to the same friend who brought me the food this morning. I’ll be home in about thirty minutes.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
She waved and he watched her head to the front to check out. At least he had time to run his own groceries home first.
Daisy knocked and went inside when she heard Mary call out. “Hey, I was at the market and I saw figs on sale.” She held up the bag and Mary took them with a delighted sound before she kissed Daisy’s cheek and hugged her.
“Awesome! I’ve been working for the last two days on a few new recipes with figs. Stay and be my tester.” Mary drew her into the large kitchen where Mary’s brother Cal and their friend Jules were already seated.
“Hey gorgeous!” Jules hopped up to come and hug Daisy.
“Hey you.” She hugged Jules back and then moved to drop a kiss on Cal’s cheek. “I can’t stay. I have…I guess it’s a date.”
“You guess?” Jules’s pretty features darkened.
“It’s this guy I met in a class. Or it wasn’t my class, I was subbing in the class and he was in it by mistake and he left and I left.”
“Oh, hot guy in the suit. Yum.” Mary put the figs on the counter.
“Yes, him. I just saw him at the grocery store. I’m going to make him dinner. Or actually serve him your food, which is better. I told him it wasn’t my cooking all up front and everything.” She added this when Jules’s brow went up.
“Girl, I don’t care about that. Who is this guy? You’re letting a near stranger come to your house?”
“He’s some uber professional hot dude. If I end up dead and stuffed in a freezer, tell ’em some pretty guy named Levi Warner saw me last.”
“Don’t make fun.” Jules glowered and Daisy hugged her, loving how protective they all were.
“I’m not making fun of how you care about me. But he seems wary because of the age thing. It’s dinner, not an engagement.”
“He’s legit.” Cal sipped his beer. “Warner family is a big deal in some circles. They’ve got a law firm in Seattle. He’s got a small office here as well.”
“Is he throwing shade on you guys? I will totally kick him out if he is.”
Cal laughed. “No, baby, but thank you. He does land use stuff. Not anywhere near what we do. He’s even sent some of his local people to us when they needed representation on issues he doesn’t do. But he’s older than you are.”
“He is.”
Everyone made a deal about her age. Usually until they got to know her. It used to bother her more than it did by that point. At the beginning of Delicious, she was just eighteen years old. Gillian and Jules were already close friends. Mary and her brothers too because they lived right next door. Daisy had been the kid who ran errands for them. She’d made extra money in high school working for Jules’s parents at their cafe so she knew them all. Liked them and wanted to be part of their circle. So she’d just done it. Showed up. And they’d let her in and they’d all grown close and now six years later she was one of them, twenty-four or not.
“Like how much older?”
Daisy shrugged. “He looks mid-thirties. But he’s got one of those faces some men have. Could be up to fifty. Though I don’t think so.”
Cal interrupted. “He’s got to be forty or so. He was ahead of me at UW. He and I both went to law school there. What’s a forty-year-old man want with a twenty-four-year-old?”
Daisy indicated her body. “Dude. I mean, come on. Twenty-four-year-old boobs.”
Cal blushed furiously as Mary and Jules laughed.
“Look, it’s dinner. He’s not a creep. I’d know. I can always tell. He’s hot. We had chemistry. That’s all we’re talking about right now. And I need to run. He’ll be at my house in ten minutes.” She hugged and kissed everyone before heading out again and back home.
Truth was, she found herself deliciously intrigued by Levi Warner.
He was nothing like any man she’d been with before. Distinguished, she thought as she put her bags down in the kitchen and headed to her closet to find something to change into. He made her want to dress up to please his eye. Which was interesting in and of itself.
It was too late for a full new outfit and all that. But she could do better than yoga pants. She found some trousers and a shirt to wear over the tee she had on. A quick brush of teeth, some lipstick and a braid of her hair and she was ready by the time he knocked on the door.
She’d even had time to light some candles so the house smelled good when she opened her door to find him standing on her stoop with a huge bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.
“Come in.” She took the flowers and led him to the kitchen, just a few steps away. “Thank you.” She loved that he’d chosen a bunch of colorful wildflowers. They went perfectly with the vase she’d finished up a few months ago.
“I brought wine.” He held up a bag. “And some beer too. I wasn’t sure what you’d be serving.”
“Put them here on the counter. Let me see what I’ve got. I just walked in. If you’d like, you can put some music on.”
He wandered off, looking around and probably thinking she didn’t notice it. The house was where her grandmother used to live and work after her grandfather had died. But she was in her late eighties now and lived in her parents’ house. She and Daisy shared a workspace out back.
So the little house had become hers.
Little Dragon began to play through her speakers. She watched him pause to listen and then nod to himself as if he found it acceptable. This was a good sign.
She pulled out the containers Mary had left, peeking in and taking sniffs as she peeled the lids back.
“Mmm, pulled pork. Do you eat pork?”
He moved to her and she had no choice but to freeze in place. He was too much and not enough all at once and she didn’t know how to process. So intense she wanted to run and rub herself all over him at the same time.
He was the most intense man she’d ever been attracted to. Though, attracted was a lightweight word for the way he simply assumed ownership of all her parts, leaving her mentally panting. And he hadn’t even touched her yet!
He got even closer to look into the container she held. “I do.”
Licking her lips, she stepped back to grab plates and put things into the microwave.
“Sit. I’ll get you something to drink. We’ve got pulled pork, which will go awesome with the brioche she put in with it. Shrimp salad of some kind. Don’t know what she calls it, but it’ll be good. Other little puffy things and some crunchy bits and bobs.”
“Beer please.”
He watched through hooded eyes as she moved around the small space and served him. Watched as she tipped the glass when she poured the beer. Watched as she automatically dished him up a plate and handed it to him along with a linen napkin she casually put on his lap.
Watched and fell under her spell.
“I meant to ask you last week when I ran into you. Whose artwork is that?”
“Did you like it?” She nudged some chili sauce in his direction.
“I did. I take it you work for the gallery next door? I’d like to speak with the
artist. See if he’d be willing to donate something to a charity auction I’m working on.”
One of her brows rose. “I do work at the gallery next door, yes. It’s only open a few hours a week. And I’m sure she’d be willing to donate something for a good cause. What’s the cause?”
“Ah, sorry. I assumed and that was silly. I figured ‘Ramona’ was the name of the art, not the artist.”
She laughed and paused to hum in delight after she popped something into her mouth. “You need to try that pickled thing there.” She pointed. “Ramona is my first name.”
He sucked in a breath. “It’s yours then?”
She nodded. “It is, yes. What’s the charity?”
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles before turning it, unfurling her fingers and kissing her palm. “You’ve got a lot of talent.”
When he looked at her face again she was blushing. “Thank you. Oh!” She jumped up and headed to the fridge. “Tortillas. I knew I had something I was forgetting. Hang on, I’m going to warm them.”
“Did your friend make those too?”
“No. My mom made them. Though she learned from my grandfather. He was the cook in the family.”
“And what do they do? Your family, I mean.”
“My father and sister run a dental practice. My mother teaches at a private elementary school. My grandmother is a painter.”
“Ah, that must be where you got it then. Does the gallery sell other art or just your stuff?”
“The gallery is my grandmother’s place. She and I work there a few days a week. My grandfather opened it when he got back from World War Two. We have some local artists we feature, as well as my work and my grandmother’s. This is their land. My parents live in the big house. My grandmother now with them. This used to be her studio and living space.” She waved a hand as she continued heating the tortillas.
He liked it. The house wasn’t big. But it was vibrant and sensual. Her bed was in a far corner. Unmade. He loved the burst of rich color, the blankets and sheets a tangle of purple and orange. She had a huge collection of music and movies. Her electronics were all very good. He’d apparently been too busy looking at her butt in those pants to have noticed the art on the walls.
The space smelled good. Like her. Sexy. Spicy. Probably forbidden but he had no plans to get up and leave anytime soon. She wasn’t a fluffy-headed young woman. Not at all from what he could see.
“And you? What do you do? Other than paint and give dance lessons?”
“I do lots of things.”
“Is that so?” Goddamn, he hoped so.
She looked at him over her shoulder as she stood at the stove. Her mouth quirked up on one side. “Oh, that too. If you’re lucky.”
“Tell me about your art, then.”
She returned to the table and he didn’t try to resist the tortillas. Once he rolled it around the pork and took a bite he was glad. “Christ, that’s good.”
“I know. My mom is a really good cook. I could live on tortillas and butter. Mainly I work in mixed media. Paint, pen and ink, some photography. I’ve been working with paper a lot lately. Some sculpture and glass. Anyway, I’m always interested in helping when I can. What’s this charity?”
“Foster family support. It’s a private agency that works with public services. Parenting classes, legal support for those who formally adopt, therapeutic support if needed for the parents and other siblings.”
She nodded and then topped his glass off, distracting him a little.
“Sounds like a wonderful organization.”
“It is, actually. We have an auction, it’s coming up in two months. I’m one of the procurers.”
She laughed. “I bet.”
“What do you mean?”
She laughed some more and spooned up some pickled vegetables. “You’re good at talking people into things, I wager. That’s why they make you the procurement person.”
“When you believe in the cause it’s a lot easier.”
“Tell me about yourself, Levi.”
“Not much to tell.”
“I have a confession,” she said before swiping her tongue over her bottom lip and making it hard for him to breathe.
“That so?”
“You like saying that. I’m not surprised you’re an attorney.”
That surprised a laugh from him. “Do a lot of attorneys you know say that?”
“No. I don’t know a lot anyway. Just Cal.”
Cal?
“Cal Whaley?” The guy was handsome and Levi wondered just how she knew Cal.
She brightened at the mention of Cal’s name and his suspicion grew.
“Yes, that’s the one. He never says stuff like ‘that so’ either. But he’s got this way of saying as little as possible while he’s gathering all sorts of info from other people and they never even notice.”
“How do you know Cal?”
She raised her brow again. “How do you know Cal? I mentioned you when I stopped by my friend’s house earlier and he said he knew you. Also said you weren’t a serial killer. He didn’t think.”
Torn between amusement and agitation he took her in. “Good to know he doesn’t think I’m going to hack you up and put you in the freezer.”
“Ew. I bet you never say things like that in front of your family.”
She had this way of blurting things out that were startlingly true and intimate. But she didn’t even know him.
“My family isn’t prone to talking about serial killing.” He shrugged.
“God, mine either. Boring. We talk about art and teeth. Oh and teaching. So you’re a lawyer too and so I assume that’s how you know Cal.”
He nodded. “It’s a small island. We do business from time to time. I use some space in his building when I have a large meeting and I’m not in Seattle. And you?” He was pretty sure Whaley was gay. But come to think of it, Levi had seen him with a woman a time or two and it was obvious it was a date.
“I’ve known the Whaleys most of my life. They only live just up the road a little. Ryan, that’s Cal’s brother, used to babysit me and my sister when we were kids. Mary, that’s Cal’s sister and one of my best friends, she’s the one who made the food we’re eating. She takes pity on me and feeds me. That’s her thing. She does it to everyone.” Daisy smiled and it shot straight to his cock. “Would you like more food?”
“I think I’m full. For now anyway.” He pushed back from the table. “You do the food since I don’t know where anything is. And I’ll clear the dishes.” He stood.
“No.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. Go and sit. I’ll be done in a minute or two.”
First she put an apron on and god help him, his cock actually throbbed, it was so hard. So pretty and feminine, she put lids back on containers and bustled around, opening and closing the fridge and cabinets as she cleaned up. The couch he sat on was comfortable, set back in a bay window. A copy of Stephen King’s The Shining lay open on the arm.
“All right then.” She moved toward him. “Are you all right for beer? Would you like a top up or something else? I’ve got cider.”
“I’m good.” And he was. Utterly relaxed for the first time in a week. “Sit with me.” He patted the couch and she dropped next to him, tucking her feet beneath her.
“What sort of law do you practice?”
“Land-use stuff mainly.”
“Let’s pretend I’m dumb and I don’t know what ‘land use’ means.” She fluttered her lashes and he found himself laughing again.
“Say you’re a communications company and you need cell towers to provide your customers service. I help with permits and any sort of contract they might enter into to lease private and municipal property for that use. Sometimes I handle land reclamation issues. Say if a new company buys land and it’s contaminated or being cleaned up. I help them get through the regulations and permitting process so they can get to work. It’s not always fascinating, but I like making things happe
n.”
“Making things happen takes a certain kind of talent.” She took his hand and began to knead it before she turned and examined his palm.
“Are you going to read my lifeline?”
She leaned in and brushed a kiss over his lips. Just a breath of a touch and his entire body went hard. “No. I just like touching you.”
He wasn’t sure what to do with someone so straightforward.
“Right now you’re thinking. What is it you’re thinking, Levi?”
“I’m thinking you’re very young.”
She nodded. “I am.”
“I’m trying to find a way around that.”
“How about I explain to you that I’m twenty-four, not fifteen. And that I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions and choices.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “And I’m thinking I’m too old.”
“Too old for what? Do you have trapeze fantasies or something? And how old are you? Sixty? Eighty-four?” Her mouth trembled as she held a smile back.
The pressure in his chest lessened.
“Eighty-three. Don’t age me before I’m ready.”
“You’re not too old. I’m not too young.”
She stayed where she was, his hand in both of hers. Those big brown eyes watching him carefully. Waiting for him. Christ. She had no idea what that did to him.
“I’m forty. I’m nearly twice your age.”
“So what?”
“Yeah. So what?” He took his hand from hers and touched her chin, tipping it. “I want your mouth.”
Her eyelids slid down a little and she took a deep breath. “Take it, then.”
Chapter 4
She tasted like honey.
Odd and yet, not entirely unexpected.
Her lips were soft, opening on a sigh. He took her invitation and took the kiss deeper, his tongue sliding into her mouth.
His hand remained in hers, though he wanted to haul her close and take her to the couch. He hadn’t wanted to get horizontal on a woman with this much intensity in a very long time.
