by Lexi Blake
He would love to meet her ex. “She should have been given a good portion of his earnings for the next several years. She gave up her own education to support him.”
“The state of Texas doesn’t acknowledge what she put into the marriage,” Sebastian said, putting his notebook down. “There are no provisions for alimony for a woman like Deena. She can support herself so the court wouldn’t have given her alimony. What they might have given her was a break. All the debt for his law school was secured with her name and her job. All their debt was joint. By taking the deal, she had to agree to pay off seventy thousand dollars worth of debt.”
“She sold everything she had and it still took her five years and two jobs to do it,” Macon said quietly.
“Damn, man, where I come from there’s a simple solution to that. It’s called life insurance. She should have killed him before he left her and collected,” Javi said with a sad shake of his head. “Seriously. I know a guy.”
Javier knew a lot of interesting people, but it was a bit late to collect on her ex’s policy. “Macon, you knew about this?”
“I knew she was paying off debt,” Macon replied, giving Sebastian a long look. “I didn’t think that was anyone else’s business.”
Sebastian frowned. “Well, I was trying to fit in. You told me I should do that. It seems to me that the men in the kitchen like to gossip. Besides, she also talked about Eric. I believe the word she used was hottie. I do not believe she was discussing your cooking.”
He knew she was attracted to him. That wasn’t enough. Not even close. Attraction wasn’t what he was looking for. “That doesn’t mean she wants me. I like this woman. I want more than a one-night stand with her.”
Sebastian looked thoughtful for a moment. “Having spoken with her that night, I think she wants you as well. She can try to say it’s all about sex, but I don’t think she’s the type. Men make moves on her all the time, but she brushes them off. Many of those men are very attractive by today’s standards. She’s not interested. She can giggle about men with Tiffany and Ally, but it never goes past that. Sometimes what a person wants and what they need are two different things. It’s like a perfectly paired wine. You make an excellent crab bisque, but I’ve noticed you ignore my pairing.”
“I prefer the Sauvignon Blanc. It’s what I usually drink with fish.” He wasn’t a major fan of sommeliers. He liked a couple of wines. He preferred to concentrate on the food.
“Try it. Take a good spoonful of the bisque and then take a drink of this wine.” Sebastian uncorked one of the bottles he was holding and poured a small amount of the rich looking gold wine.
He sighed. He did not need a lecture on wine pairings, but when he opened his own place, Sebastian had agreed to help with the wine list. He wouldn’t get a better offer so he wasn’t about to piss the man off. He knew what his damn crab bisque tasted like, but he took a spoonful anyway. The flavor coated his mouth, creamy and rich, with the buttery meat of the crab. He took the glass from Sebastian and swallowed a mouthful.
It complemented the crab, drawing out the flavor in a way the wine he would have used never could have. He stopped for a moment and savored the taste. Sometimes it was easy to forget why he’d started down this path. Food was a passion for him. It was something he loved, needed in his life. When had he stopped experimenting? He put down the glass and faced Sebastian. “That was perfect.”
“We get into comfortable places and forget to try new things,” Sebastian said quietly.
“I think what he’s trying to say is don’t get your panties in a wad and be patient,” Javi said with a nod. “Deena will come to you.”
“I never mentioned his panties.” Sebastian recorked the wine with a sad shake of his head. “Macon, I’ll be in the cellar. I need to check on how the new order was stocked. The last time I walked in there someone had put a Pinot Noir in the refrigerated section. Barbarians.”
He turned and walked out.
“That is one weird dude,” Javi said with a shake of his head. “And he was totally talking about your panties. All that wine stuff was a metaphor.”
Macon laughed. “He’s a good guy. I knew him for a while in the Army.”
Eric nearly dropped his jaw. “Sebastian Lowe was in the Army? Was he in your unit?”
“No. I met him in rehab. He walks pretty good for a dude who lost his legs, doesn’t he? He’s also a legend in sommelier land. It takes decades for some people to reach master status. He’s the youngest in the country. I know he comes off as weird, but give him a break. He’s completely transformed himself. And he had offers to work in France, New York, and LA. Do you know why he chose to come to work for an upstart chef in Texas?”
Damn, he needed to give his coworkers the benefit of the doubt. “He wanted to be with his people.”
He wanted to be with the ex-soldiers and they’d kind of crowded the man out because he was different. That would change and fast.
“I hear what you’re saying and I’ll make sure to include him. I’ll put the word out.” He shook Macon’s hand. “I’ll also take his advice and try to not get my panties in a wad.”
He would take another look at Deena, try to give her what she needed, and stop worrying about his damn ego. She’d been through hell. It hadn’t been a short journey. It would take time to teach her she didn’t have to stay there.
* * * *
Deena sat across from her Dom. The reality was starting to settle in. After her talk with Master Ian, she’d realized she was taking all of this far too seriously. It was all play. It was experimentation. It didn’t matter who her training Dom was. She looked around and watched the other couples. She would bet Tiffany wasn’t worried about getting in too deep with the man she’d been paired with. Althea was talking calmly to her new sub, not a hint of panic or terror on her placid face. And the chick Javi had been partnered with better not think it could go anywhere. The man had a broom closet at Top with his name etched on it from his many quickies. No, she was the only one panicking and there was zero reason for it.
Eric was her training Dom, or at least he would be once they signed this contract. It didn’t mean anything more than they were compatible on some level. She stared down at it. They’d gone over hard and soft limits. She was interested in just about everything but the truly extreme stuff. She’d happily checked off her interest in role-playing, bondage, fire and electric play. Those last two were a little scary, but she couldn’t help but shiver at the thought. Why not try it? The great thing about D/s was she had a safe word. If things got dicey, she said the word “red” and everything stopped.
Of course, having a Dom who she knew one hundred percent would honor her safe word was also good.
She’d thought about it all day. After the talk with Master Ian, she’d gone over to Ally’s. Ally had convinced her it would be good to work with a Dom who would have no expectations of her sexually.
Deena hadn’t mentioned the fact that he’d kissed her. He’d kissed like she’d never been kissed before. He’d inhaled her like he needed her in order to breathe. She could still feel his tongue sliding against hers, dominating her.
“Deena?” His deep voice broke through her thoughts. “Have I lost you? Or are you seriously thinking about checking the humiliation play box? You should read the section thoroughly before you do that.”
She gasped and quickly marked the box no. She didn’t judge. If some women got off on being called a dirty whore or getting peed on during sex, cool. Whatever floated someone’s boat got a thumbs-up from her, but she was not doing that. “I’ll pass.”
His lips turned up in the hottest grin. “That’s good because I’ll be honest, I’m not very interested in exploring that either.”
Of course not. He wouldn’t ever call a woman a whore. He was safe. That was what Ally had convinced her of. Eric was a safe bet. Unless she initiated contact or stepped way out of line, he would be a simple play partner who could introduce her to this world, and then she could find a
dirty Dom who would take only what she was willing to give.
“Do you have any questions for me?” Eric asked as she finished the questionnaire portion of the contract.
All around her the other training couples were sitting and talking. Tiffany was grinning at something and pointing it out to her training Dom. Althea was super cool and mysterious, while her trainee looked so out of place. He was a big, gorgeous male hunk who looked like he should be on the other end of the crop.
They were all trying to find themselves. She had to remember that. Focus on the journey and not the man in front of her. That was the mistake she’d made before. She’d thought the man was the journey when he’d been the roadblock.
She smiled and shook her head and signed her name on the dotted line. “No, I think I’m good.”
His grin faded, but he took the contract anyway. “All right. Let’s go over the opening documents. We’re supposed to talk about our expectations and what we’re both hoping to get out of this class.”
She’d disappointed him. It was plain on his face, but she wasn’t sure how she’d done it. She’d signed the contract, agreed to sub for him through the training class. Did it matter? If he wanted something from her, he was supposed to ask.
They’d spent the first half of the class talking about how she’d gotten here. He’d asked about her childhood, polite questions about where she’d grown up and how she’d ended up in Dallas. She’d been honest, though she’d dodged some of the worst aspects of her life. He knew she’d been married and divorced. She’d explained her husband had left her for another woman. That was all he needed to know. They’d wasted half an hour on her boring life before getting to the contract.
“What do you expect to get out of this class?” He was warm, but she could feel a distance that hadn’t been there before.
“Knowledge, I suppose. I want what everyone wants. I want to figure out if I enjoy this lifestyle. I think I will.”
“What about it attracts you?”
This was something she’d thought long and hard about. “I started reading some BDSM romance books about a year ago. I did it because Tiffany recommended it, and honestly, I was curious because the author comes into Top all the time.”
“Serena. I like her a lot. I haven’t read her books, but she’s a very nice lady.”
Serena Dean-Miles was funny and kind. “I thought I could joke about it. You know, look at me I’m reading porn.”
“It spoke to you.”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never read romance before. She had something to say about finding ourselves, about paying attention to our own needs in a way that wasn’t selfish. I suppose I grew up with a mother who sacrificed everything for me, and don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all that she did for me. But I know she was unhappy. I knew it then. I wonder what would have happened if she’d pursued some of her own joy. She was a wonderful woman, but I felt her dissatisfaction. I think I thought that was how the world had to work for a very long time.”
“That’s why you sacrificed in your marriage.”
Touchy subject, but somehow she found herself opening up. No, Eric didn’t need to know these things, but sitting in this room where she was supposed to be open and honest, she found herself talking. “I think it was a lot of things. Despite the fact that my dad was a jerk, I remember hearing them fight a lot. He would accuse her of not paying enough attention to him. He said he was leaving her because he’d found a woman who supported him better than she did. A woman who made him feel like a man. I know he was wrong, but sometimes the things we hear as children seem to seep into our psyches.”
Eric leaned forward. “It’s a two-way street. Support that is. I’m not saying in a relationship everything should be fifty-fifty at all times. Needs change. They ebb and flow and a couple has to be fluid, but one person shouldn’t bear the load. Why do you have a partner at all if you’re going to do that?”
“That’s a good question and why I won’t get married again.” She’d made that decision long ago.
“So even if the right man came along, you wouldn’t try?”
“Probably not. I’m not putting myself in that position again. You wouldn’t understand because you’ve never been married before.”
He sat back, his arms crossing over his chest. “Who said I hadn’t been married before?”
“You never mentioned an ex-wife.”
“You never asked.”
Wow. She hadn’t. He’d asked her a million questions about her life and she never asked him anything but superficial crap. They’d been friends for months and she knew next to nothing about his past. She’d seen his gorgeous body and face and dismissed him utterly with the exception of enjoying his company on a surface level.
What had Master Ian told her? When a person cuts off one kind of relationship, she inevitably becomes harder on all the others. She’d cut off the possibility of love. Had she done the same with friendship? Was she going to end up cutting them all out because she was so scared of hurting again?
She was living her mother’s life.
“I never did, did I?” Shame swept over her. He’d been kind and she’d blown him off. She spent time daydreaming about the man and yet she refused to let herself know him. Even tonight he’d concentrated on her and she’d ignored his needs, expecting that he would simply take care of them himself.
She was being a bad partner.
“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “You’ve made it plain you aren’t interested in more than a training relationship.”
But they’d had more. This was the guy who helped her out when he didn’t have to. He gave her a ride and sat next to her in clubs, though she wasn’t sure he truly enjoyed them. The man never danced, but insisted on going along with them to make sure everyone got home all right. He looked out for her and she viewed him as nothing more than a gorgeous guy she should stay away from.
“I thought we were friends.”
“I did, too.”
“I haven’t been a very good friend.” That bothered her. She was good to her girlfriends. She always had an open couch. Even when she was struggling she could find the money to help out a friend. Eric had proven he was loyal and kind, and she hadn’t given anything back to him. It was one thing to not fall in love with the man. It was another to be unkind to him. Had she made him feel small? “Have you ever been married, Eric? I mean, Sir.”
“Eric is fine when we’re talking. Sir or Master Eric when we’re playing or in formal club circumstances, but we are friends. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about that. And yes, I was married. Like you, I married my high school sweetheart.”
She hadn’t seen that coming. He was so open. She’d expected he hadn’t been hurt before. “What happened?”
“Oh, years away in the Navy happened. We changed and we weren’t together when we changed, so I came home to a different woman than the one I married. She married a kid who liked sports and sneaking beers and I came home angry and scared.”
“Of war?”
“Of how much I liked it. Not the killing. I liked the camaraderie. I liked being important. I was good at it. I was so good at it I went Special Forces. She thought she’d married a kid who was in the Navy to get his college degree paid for and she found herself married to a SEAL.”
She didn’t understand how that had caused a rift. “That doesn’t sound so bad. You were serving your country.”
“Like you said, sweetheart, you haven’t lived it. We married young and we both had to move on. I wish she hadn’t moved on while I was on active duty, but I understand.”
“She cheated on you while you were fighting?” Who the hell did that? Outrage rose in her gut. He’d been risking his life.
“Well, it wasn’t like she knew how to get hold of me,” he said with a soft laugh, as though the incident was amusing. “My whereabouts were classified and I would go months sometimes without talking to her. She was lonely and she turned to someone else.”
; “You didn’t.” Eric Vail wouldn’t cheat on his wife.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re not that guy.”
“No, sweetheart. I’m not that guy. I was faithful to my wife. I’m friendly with her now. She’s married again and has a couple of kids.”
“How can you still talk to her?” She wouldn’t talk to her ex for anything.
“Because we were friends before we were anything else. I’ve learned life is far too short to hold grudges. It’s too short to not forgive yourself.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Didn’t I? There are two sides to every story. I didn’t come home when I said I would. Once I forgave myself for making the mistake, I found it was quite easy to forgive her for doing the same. I left the service after one too many bullets hit me and I found something I really loved.”
“Cooking.”
“Yeah. It’s funny because I wouldn’t have found it if May hadn’t left me and I hadn’t been forced to move back to my folks’ place after I got home. My mom was crazy about cooking shows and she challenged me to try it. I indulged her, and a few months later, I was at a cooking school with all these tiny young people. They were infants. Most of them thought I was the janitor the first day. Or maybe security. I thought a lot about my sister while I was there. She was older than me and she loved to bake. She was always making cookies.”
He said it with a sad smile that made her wonder. “Is she a chef, too?”
“She died when I was sixteen. Leukemia. I took that cooking challenge from my mother because I knew she missed my sister and wanted a child of hers in the kitchen with her again. Even if it was only for a day. I cook with my mom any time I’m home, and let me tell you I might be the pro, but I’m her sous chef, too. She rules that kitchen with an iron will any chef would be proud of. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, hadn’t gotten married and divorced, I wouldn’t have been sitting with her that day. I wouldn’t have laughed and said it looked easy. I wouldn’t have found my passion. Those things that seemed like mistakes led me to something I love. So I forgave myself and moved on.”
