Love Caters All

by Nicci Carrera

  He took the water glass and drank the last bit. “Guess I owe you a spanking now, too.”

  She laughed so hard tears filled her eyes. Embarrassment over the spanking disappeared. A good night’s sleep was back on the horizon.

  A slow smile softened Rick’s face. “So…you said you like dining out. How would you like to join me for dinner some night…? Soon though.”

  Excitement fluttered in her belly. “That would be nice.” So much for playing it safe. “Let me just get a towel to clean this up.”

  “I’ll do it.” He peeled off his jacket and flung the expensive garment onto the bed. Next his fingers closed over the top button of his shirt.

  Maya tore her gaze from his chest. “Please…make yourself at home!” She bolted for the door before tossing final instructions over her shoulder. “There’s wi-fi. The info, along with all the other house details, is in the kitchen.”

  “I thought you had a library.”

  She turned. Now he was shirtless. Yum…but…he had a tattoo! A navy blue sun with sunbeams followed the contours of his arm muscles. Wait, he’d asked a question. About the library? “Yeees…a small one. In the living room. Funny you should mention it.”

  “Doc made me unplug. Ordered me to read books. Even went so far as to write out a prescription.” Rick reached in his pocket.

  She took the paper he’d retrieved and read it. Sure enough, their website and the words, No electronics, read a book were scrawled on an Rx sheet in Doc’s handwriting. She handed back the note. “I’d recognize Doc’s penmanship anywhere.”

  “Penmanship!” Rick grinned. “You can see from Doc’s chicken scratch, if I had to rely on the internet for entertainment I’d be out of luck. It’s old-fashioned bound-paper for me this week.”

  “I love books. In our library, you’ll find the classics, westerns, and some spicy romance.” Maya thought she’d just toss the last genre in there to see how he’d react. He grinned. Her stomach fluttered. This man was nothing like the conceited ass she’d dated last summer. Both men might be rich, but they were so different. “History, biography, and a Bible.”

  “Will there be a quiz?”

  “Only on the romance.”

  His laugh was so sensuous she could roll in it.

  “I really need to dry the floor. I’ll get a rag. Excuse me.”

  Mama passed her at the hall closet. “We should invite Mr. Nordan to our party tomorrow.”

  Oh no. Rick was going to meet the gorgeous twins before Maya even had a single date with him.

  “Mama,” Maya whispered, “he’s a guest. I mean a customer. Not a guest.” Would he be half-naked when Mama walked into his room? He certainly wasn’t very modest. What about his tattoo? Oh, that would be perfect. If she saw the ink Mama probably wouldn’t invite him to the party. Mama barged past Maya.

  Maya hurried after in time to hear Rick say, “Hi, Mrs. Cruz. Sorry about the water.”

  Had he put on a shirt? She peeked around Mama. No. He was half naked on his knees wiping up the water with one of the towels from the bathroom. There was another tattoo on his back. Some kind of massive bird, not realistic, more stylized.

  “I’ll do that.” Mama bustled toward Rick.

  With Mama’s knees, she definitely shouldn’t bend down to wipe the floor. Rick had finished the clean-up. Gratitude filled Maya.

  Now Rick stared at the expensive periwinkle blue towel in his hand. “I’m sorry I used this.”

  Mama took it from him. “Never mind. I’ll get you another.”

  “I’ll just use this one.” He liberated the rag from Maya’s fingers.

  He was going to dry himself with that ratty old thing? He wore an expensive looking jacket, designer shoes, and a button-down shirt to fly all the way across the country. He knew the difference between a good towel and a rag. He was a CEO of a major corporation, yet he had tattoos. This man was a paradox.

  “Mr. Nordan,” Mama said. “We’re having a family party tomorrow to celebrate Maya’s twin sisters coming home for summer vacation. How would you like to join us?”

  Oh no, here we go. Rick would meet Cara and Blanca. Surely, he’d say no.

  “I’d love to. Are you cooking?”

  Mama smiled. “No, Maya is.”

  Rick’s eyebrows shot up. Then his eyes settled on her Band-Aid. She had forgotten about it. Now, the cut on her finger stung.

  “I don’t want you getting hurt on my account.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Her finger throbbed, but her ego was even more bruised.

  “Oh, no,” Mama hurried to fill in. “Maya is a very good cook. You can’t judge her by one little accident.”

  “Everyone who works in the kitchen as much as I do will get cut eventually.” Maya was being defensive. First the shoes, then her career. He was stripping away everything she needed to stand on equal footing.

  “Do you work in the restaurant business?”

  “Yes, I own a food truck. The hospital lets me operate out of their parking lot because it solves the problem of feeding hospital visitors and others who don’t want to or can’t eat in the cafeteria, like ambulance drivers. The great thing is I even get tourists and locals who want a quick take-away meal. I also cater on weekends and special occasions.”

  “Oh. A food truck would be perfect for catering.”

  “To do the prep, yes, but I have a van, which is a lot more nimble for deliveries.”

  “You’re a great cook, then.” He got it.

  Pride swelled in Maya’s chest.

  “By the way,” Rick said, with a smile, “I’d love to come tomorrow. Where?”

  Oh...Mama’s party invitation. Did Maya have to answer? Rick was staring at her, so yes, she had to answer. “Another house in the woods, like this. Really not much to see. You should go out on the water or downtown to the piers. Otherwise you’ll think the area just has backwoods houses.”

  “Not at all. Like I said. I’d love to come. But I need an address. Something more than somewhere in the woods.” His half-smile played. At least she didn’t have to deal with the dimples. Those required a full grin to make an appearance.

  “Don’t you have—” She was going to say GPS on his phone, but then she remembered Doc’s Rx for Rick: no electronics. She told him the time. They left him a map on the counter.

  If only he didn’t fall for one…or both…of the twins, maybe she’d get him to herself for a date.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Rick explored the town. Lobster Cove had a lot of charm. Tree-lined streets sheltered a mix of New England style houses, some dripping in history, some modern, some nestled away from neighbors, some maximizing views of the water.

  He pulled into the first parking spot he found. The sun, still young for the day, cast a dusky wash across a bay dotted with yachts. One wide pier supported a bustling tourist business. Vacationers in bright clothing moved along the pier’s spine. The other pier stood near McClintock and McClintock Lobster Company. Fishing boats moored along its sides. The sounds of people at work, a few shouts, the clang of equipment, the rev of boat engines, punctuated the air.

  Rick pressed the remote key lock. The car chirped, the sound joining the cries of gulls wheeling over a fishing boat. Cool bay breezes would soon give way to a hot day. He strode down the main street, past the town square. Like all the surrounding area, the spit of land that formed one side of Lobster Cove was covered in forest with sculpture-worthy boulders along the water’s edge. In a clearing above some rocks perched a squatty white and red lighthouse. Before it huddled two buildings. The white manmade structures stood out against the deep greens and blues that dominated nature’s palette.

  The lighthouse tempted his trigger finger on the camera, but it would have to wait. Right now, he needed some grub. He should be running late since his body was on west coast time, but he’d barely slept. Normally work stress would cause the insomnia but not last night. No, a certain very spicy young woman had messed with his beauty rest. It
had been a long time since a woman made him lose sleep.

  A bright green VW Beetle caught his attention. Then he noticed the driver, an attractive woman who looked really sad. Hmm. Despite the appearance of perfection, Lobster Cove had real people living here. Real people always had to deal with real crap.

  Ah, Maggie’s Diner. The restaurant sat at the end of a row of buildings on Oak Street. The aromas wafted from the premises. The fragrances advertised the restaurant better than any other form of marketing. A bell over the door announced his arrival. The interior was classic diner. Blue checked curtains, chrome tables. Framed photos of people, presumably residents, covered every inch of wall space. Nice touch. Maybe there was something to be said for a town where portraits of locals counted as decoration.

  A fit-looking woman with light brown hair in a bobbing ponytail bustled by carrying a tray of plates filled with baskets of muffins.

  An older woman with a friendly face came through a swinging door by the kitchen. “Welcome to Maggie’s!”

  “Thanks.”

  “Pick your poison.” She waved at the booths.

  A woman with short dark hair sat alone in one of the booths in front of a small plate containing a mountainous muffin. She smiled at him. If he hadn’t already met Maya, he would be interested. Instead he aimed for the booth beyond her but didn’t make it before she spoke.

  “Hey, care to join me?”

  “Uh, I just came in to grab a bite to eat.”

  “I’m a bite.”

  Sheesh! Another sassy one. Probably a friend of Maya’s. The older woman watched him intently from behind the counter. If he brushed off this woman’s invitation, would he be pegged as a rude unfriendly tourist? Probably. Did he care? Yeah…kinda. Oddly enough. Something about Lobster Cove tugged at him. Maybe everything about it.

  “Okay, if you insist,” he said.

  “My name’s Sin,” the woman said with a wink. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s short for Sinclair.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sin. I’m Rick.” He slid across the leatherette bench across from Sin.

  The waitress with the ponytail bounced over. She handed him a menu. She had a lot of rings with big bright gems that she seemed eager to flash. Her nametag said Sally. “Can I start you off with some coffee?”

  “Yes, thanks. What do I need to do to get a muffin like hers?”

  “Just walk through the door.” She smiled. She seemed like a cheerful, colorful character.

  “Do you have any egg combos?”

  “Sailor’s Special—” the women blurted simultaneously. “Jinx.” Another duet.

  “Sin you better watch out or you’ll end up working here,” Sally said.

  “Can’t do that ’cause then I couldn’t live here.” Sin gave a rueful smile. She poked at the muffin with her fork. Perhaps she came here for the atmosphere because eating didn’t seem to be on her agenda.

  “Sign me up for the Sailor’s Special, then.” Rick fought a grin. The sense of camaraderie was pleasant. “With a side of muffins.”

  After the waitress left, Sin cocked her head. “So…you don’t sound like you’re from Boston.”

  “No. California.”

  Sin let out a soft whistle. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Vacation.”

  “That’s a long way to come. Do you know people?”

  “Doc.”

  “Doc.” She stared at him for a moment. “Doc Olson?”

  He nodded.

  She pursed her lips. “So you’re from Silicon Valley.”

  “Yep.”

  “Weird.”

  He snorted. The waitress delivered the coffee, which he sipped black. “We prefer ‘nerd.’”

  She giggled. “I meant it’s unusual to travel so far for vacation. Most visitors come from the east coast. But I’m glad you’re here. I hope you enjoy Maine’s special brand of hospitality. By the way, you don’t look like a nerd.”

  “I try to hide it.”

  “How do you know Doc?”

  “He’s my doctor.”

  Sin’s turn to snort. “You got me. He sent you here?”

  “Lobster Cove came highly recommended.”

  “Are you staying at the Cruz house?”

  Okay, small-town time. “Yep.” He took another careful sip of the scalding coffee. “How’d you guess?”

  “Doc’s close with them. It’s good to know he’s sending business their way.”

  Rick represented business for Doc’s friends. Well, there was sincerity in Doc’s prescription, too. The place was doing him good already. The tension he carried in his shoulders had eased.

  “Have you met the Cruzes?” Sin asked.

  The breakfast arrived. He devoured the eggs and bacon.

  Sin watched his progress, her food sitting nearly untouched on her plate. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He ripped a chunk off the muffin. “What was it again?”

  “Have you met the Cruzes?”

  He took a bite. Warm blueberries melting in buttery crumbs filled his mouth.

  Sin arched her brows.

  “Yes.” A gulp of water washed down dessert. “Why?”

  “Just wondering…”

  His turn to arch a brow.

  “I’m friends with Maya,” Sin said.

  Ah, so he’d guessed right. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’re both pretty sassy.”

  Sin blinked, then grinned. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “I’d like to find out.” He shouldn’t encourage her. He could break up a friendship. So much for not making waves in Lobster Cove. He had just followed Sin’s lead. It was fun. He didn’t mean anything by the exchange, but perhaps he’d stirred a pot filled with explosive ingredients.

  “You won’t hear any secrets from me.”

  Curiosity stirred. No, time to change the subject. “I’m having lunch with them later.”

  “Really?” Sin’s eyes widened. “You were invited to their little welcome home party? It’s only for them, you know. The way Maya explains it, having the twins gone was so hard for Mama that they had to have some private time at the start of every summer. But I think Maya also likes the tradition.” Sin sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her tone had changed, since learning of Rick’s invitation to the Cruz private party.

  “Is she close to her sisters?”

  Sin nodded, her expression now serious. “The four of them cling to each other. Maya is the life raft.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She took too much on herself. That’s my opinion.”

  “Meaning?”

  “After Eduardo, her dad, died.”

  “She seems to be doing pretty well.”

  “Yeah. She kicks ass.”

  Rick grinned. The mild flirtation was done. Sin was a good friend to Maya.

  Sin scooted out of the booth. The bench seat squeaked under her jeans. He had all the information he was going to get out of her.

  Sin proved to be tall and slim. “Say hi to Maya for me. Tell her not to forget our shopping date.”

  “I’ll try to remember.” Rick stayed until he finished his coffee. Outside, an elderly couple walked along the path by the water, holding hands, wrapped in their couple-bubble. A pang in his gut cut off his interest in the muffin. He’d probably never share an old age with a long-term wife. It wasn’t in his genes.

  ****

  Blanca and Cara’s presence instantly transformed Maya’s log-cabin rental. Nothing like four Latin women all concentrated in one place to create a Cruz-family home. “Rick Nordan?” Blanca propped up the bathroom doorframe with her athletic shoulder. “The Rick Nordan of GameCom? You do realize he’s a legend, don’t you?”

  Maya raised the tip of her favorite lip pencil, Heat Wave Red.

  “Maya, you have no idea what Blanca is talking about, do you?” Cara slouched on the closed toilet seat.

  Maya straightened
. To avoid meeting Blanca’s eyes in the mirror, she watched her hand all the way to the makeup holder. “Yes, I do know who Rick Nordan is.”

  She didn’t, but she should. She hadn’t bothered to research his background on the web. Doc referred him, so there was no need. Then, after greeting him at the now rental house, she came in and fell onto her bed only to spend hours lying there thinking about his body, his scent, those wicked suggestive eyes.

  “We studied him in Economics at Cal,” Blanca said. “He made all his money by bootstrapping off the gaming computers he rigged during college. They hit the market sweet-spot. His dad already had dough, though.”

  Maya met Blanca’s gaze in the mirror. “So why’d he work?”

  Blanca shrugged.

  “You seem to know a lot about Rick.” Maya dragged a brush through the lipstick. Blanca’s exotic eyes hung above her in the mirror where the scrutinized Maya’s primping.

  Blanca walked away while Cara climbed off the pot.

  Cara balanced on one foot like a dancer while she worked her other foot back into the clog. “He’s single, in case you were wondering, Miss Never-Looks-Anything-up-on-the-internet.”

  Maya puckered her lips and stilled her brow with the skill of an actress even though Cara stared at her for a full minute before flouncing out of the bathroom. Once alone, Maya set the lipstick brush back in the slot with a trembling hand. She took four slow breaths while gripping the cold porcelain of the pedestal sink.

  A pine-scented breeze ruffled the burgundy curtain hanging over the partially open window. Outside, the neighbor’s SUV started up. She glanced at the clock, ten a.m. Rick would be here in two hours. Time to help Mama get lunch ready.

  In the kitchen, sautéing onions perfumed the air. Mama was bent over, getting something out of the bottom door of the fridge. Her sisters perched at the table staying out of the way. They wasted no time returning to the hot topic of the day.

  “Rick Nordan is huge, Mama,” Cara said.

  Mama had returned to the stove, so Maya went to the fridge for a cooked lobster. She set the stainless-steel bowl on the counter. Grabbing a knife, she started peeling the shell off the sweet smelling meat. “He’s just a customer. A paying customer.”