by Candis Terry
“Well you certainly have all that figured out.” She folded her arms. “So what kind of food do you see plated at the pickup station?”
“I don’t know.” He scratched his head and sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve done my homework. Done research on the target audience. Talked to a few local chefs who have a steady clientele. And I know my budget and expenses.”
“Great groundwork. Have you chosen a name for the place?”
“Sunshine & Vine.”
“I like that. It opens the door for all kinds of ideas. What style are you thinking? A flashy hot spot? Bistro? Grill? Café?”
“We won’t be open all day or even every day. It will be specialized to dinners, desserts, and wine. Catering mostly to middle-aged adults with combined salaries over $150K. Eventually I’d like it to be a destination restaurant. Somewhere people are willing to drive a distance to get to.”
“Then what’s your menu style? Table d’hôte? A la carte? Static? Cycle?”
“Signature a la carte with daily specialties.”
“Casual or fine dining?”
“Fine.” He chuckled. “Do you ever take a breath?”
“Not when there’s stuff to figure out. Cuisine style?”
He dropped his chin. “And there lies the problem.”
“But you have everything else figured out.”
His gaze came up and found hers. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is that easy, Parker. You’ve selected a name that invokes a classy atmosphere. You already have a built-in vineyard theme. Your restaurant is in an old wooden barn. You have a running creek within a stone’s throw of the restaurant. From the looks of the construction going on with the rest of the vineyard, it looks like your renovations will add an Old World atmosphere. You know you’re not creating a build-a-burger joint and you’re not going to serve fried chicken and corn-on-the-cob. It should be easy.”
“Well, it’s not.” When his jaw clenched she realized she’d pushed him. And that was good. Exactly what needed to happen to move him off his stumbling block.
He’d been answering all her questions mechanically, without the passion she knew he personified. She knew he had an eclectic style because she’d seen and tasted his food truck menu. She needed to keep pushing him through the obstacle that was keeping him from pulling his dream together and nicely tying it up with a bow.
“Want to know what I’d do with this place?” she asked, knowing he probably didn’t.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not.” He crossed his arms. “Right?”
“See what a smart man you are?” She cracked a smile to see if he’d give one back. He didn’t, but the furrow in his brow did deepen.
“First of all,” she said, “I’d really specialize it. If possible, I’d use some of the open property to create a restaurant garden. A place where you could grow fresh herbs and vegetables for the dishes you’ll prepare. Pacific Northwesterners love organic.”
“I don’t know if the growing season here would sustain it all year.”
“Then build a greenhouse to give things a jump start or extend the season. It doesn’t have to be huge, just big enough to help tie things into what makes your place special.”
His jaw-clenched silence said he was either contemplating her idea or considering choking her.
“As far as the menu goes, I’d go for traditional,” she said. “Freshly caught seafood married with light and fresh pastas. If you have ranchers nearby you could serve local beef or free-range poultry. Light fare. Nothing too heavy. Celebrate your dishes with a dash of what you grow on those vines out there. Create entrées that reflect the surroundings.”
“You’ve given this some thought.” He spoke in not so much of a snarl as a grumble. Maybe because he hadn’t been the one to come up with it first.
“I have a lot of spare time,” she said. Thanks to being unemployed, a fact of which he was unaware and a fact she planned to keep private. If he hired her she wanted it to be because he knew she was qualified, not because he was doing her a favor so she didn’t end up eating at a soup kitchen. “Tossing a frozen pizza in the oven or popcorn in the microwave for your employer doesn’t take much brain power.”
“Those are all interesting suggestions,” he admitted. “And not at all close to what I’ve been mulling over in my head.”
“You mean you don’t have fantasies about popping microwave kettle corn?” She flashed him another smile but he was still too deep in his own tangle of thoughts to reciprocate.
So she pushed some more.
“So what kind of menu have you been mulling over? Calamari and escargot? Bratwurst and beer? Tacos and margaritas?”
“Those aren’t my style.”
“Then what is your style? It’s hard to tell. Your food truck menu is very . . . eclectic.”
Both eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Is that an insult?”
“Not at all. I value creativity. Even if it sometimes seems a little . . . schizophrenic.”
“The food truck business does great,” he protested.
“I don’t doubt that. I’ve sampled the menu and everything I’ve tasted is amazing. Although there are some days I’m not sure your customers are really there for the food.”
His head went back like she’d slapped him. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean they think you’re hot. They go there to see you. To flirt with you. Hope for a date with you. Or maybe just some heavy petting in the back of your food truck.”
“My customers aren’t all women.”
“I wasn’t talking about just the women.”
His brows pulled together.
“Kidding!”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Okay.” Perfect. Now she had his mind off all the things that had it clogged up. “Then say your five top menu sellers.”
“Easy. Pan-seared halibut crusted with roasted, crushed pumpkin seeds.” He counted the dishes off with his fingers. “Pork chops with maple-apple chutney and bacon au jus. New York steak sandwich. Slow-roasted chicken and dumplings. And . . . I’d have to say the eggplant caponata and the ricotta stuffed tortellini would probably be a tie.”
“What a wonderful, flavorful variety,” she said.
“I like to change things up.”
“And you’ve been successful at it.”
“I have.”
“So why are you so confused about creating the menu for Sunshine & Vine? The answer seems simple to me.”
“That’s probably because you don’t have everything riding on its success.”
“Ah. So now we get down to the truth.” Unable to resist the worried furrow to his brow and the tight clench to his jaw, she wrapped her fingers in the front of his jacket. “You’re afraid you’ll fail.”
“Maybe.”
Absently, she stroked her fingertip down the icy teeth of the coat’s zipper. “Were you this nervous when you first opened the food truck?”
“Not really.”
“So you’re more nervous this time because . . .”
“Because I’m building the restaurant on vineyard property to help my family. To help make the family business profitable again. To help ensure that the future generations of our family can continue the legacy our grandfather started.”
Family.
Her heart squeezed knowing how deeply he cared for them.
“You know what I think?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
She chuckled. “I think you’re an amazing man. And I have no doubt that you and your restaurant will succeed.”
“But mostly . . .” A slow smile tipped his delicious mouth as he moved in closer. The scent of warm man triggered all her womanly senses. “You think I’m hot.”
She laughed. “As a wildfire burning out of control.”
“That’s pretty cheesy.”
When he put his hands on her hips and brought her up against him she knew s
he’d not only hit some hot buttons, she’d ignited some sexual interest too. Totally not her intent. Still . . .
“And for you to pretend that you don’t know you’re good looking is even cheesier,” she said.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re standing in a kitchen, or all this cheesiness could get really messy.”
Shoving her good intentions in a mental lockbox, she slipped her hand into the front of his jacket. “Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“About to get messy?”
“I think we’re way past messy.” He leaned his big warm body against her. “I think we’re headed into virtual meltdown territory.”
He cupped her face between his hands and tilted her head for a deep, lingering kiss that promised good and naked things to come. As his tongue slicked against hers and he led her into a sensuous dance that made her nipples hard, his erection pressed against the crux of her thighs and roused the lust patrol in her panties.
Kissing Parker was like all the best things coming together. If she thought about it too much, it would scare the daylights out of her. So she didn’t think. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted to the toes of her boots, and put everything she had into kissing him back.
Kissing Gabriella might be his current favorite thing. She was incredibly sexy and desirable. And as much as he might try to deny it, there was some kind of crazy chemistry between the two of them that made him act unreasonably and think irrationally.
Right now, he should only be focused on getting his restaurant done in time for Jordan and Lucy’s wedding. But that wasn’t stopping his hands from sliding beneath Gabriella’s sweatshirt so he could touch her warm, silky skin and cup her more than ample breasts in the palms of his hands.
On a sigh her lips parted and she opened to him. The sweetness of the barbecue sauce she’d had at dinner lingered on her tongue and he couldn’t get enough. When her icy hands snuck beneath his shirt and touched his skin, he shivered, even as his dick grew harder. Right then, all he could think about was getting her heated up, naked, and under him.
“Parker?”
A female voice. Not Gabriella’s.
His head snapped up. “Fuck.”
“Who is it?”
“Nicki. My little sister.” While Gabriella licked her lips, he tried to subdue the erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans. “I need to see what she wants.”
“Okay.”
“Stay here. Just like that.” He pressed his mouth to hers once more before he broke contact and backed away. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
“Promise.”
When she gave him a nod he pushed through the door and out into the dining area when all he really wanted was to stay right there, strip her down, and make her sigh.
Chapter 7
Parker found Nicole by the front door holding a flashlight and shivering in a pair of Ugg boots with a fuzzy hooded white parka over her cat pajamas.
“Nicki? What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I’ve been working on a new song all night and I got stuck on the lyrics, so I thought I’d take a walk. I saw a light on in here and noticed your car parked out front. I thought you were still working, so I thought I’d drop by and say hi.”
There were times when Parker looked at his eighteen-year-old sister and saw a young woman ready to start her adventure in life. There were other times—like right now—when he looked at her and still saw the little girl who used to tag along behind him and his brothers, wanting so badly to be a part of the pack.
The glittery pink tutus and tiaras she’d constantly worn hadn’t helped her fit in with the boys. The fact that they were all so much older than her hadn’t helped either. Tonight, with her pretty face surrounded by the fur on the hood of her jacket and the cartoon cat pajamas, she looked like a little girl again. Unfortunately she was a girl with a lot of baggage on her small shoulders, so he opened his arms and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m glad you came by,” he said. “But you’re shivering like you’ve been stuck in a freezer.”
“Yeah. The weather is definitely getting colder. But the fresh air always helps me think. And I’m searching for the perfect line for the song.”
“For Jordy’s wedding?”
Nicki nodded. “I already wrote one, but the more I play it the less I like it. So since I have a few weeks, I decided to start from scratch.”
“I’m sure whatever you create Jordan and Lucy will love it.”
“I hope so.” She shrugged as her gaze darted around the room. “Wow. You’re really making progress.”
“That’s the plan. I guess both of us have Jordan’s wedding on the mind.” Currently an out-and-out lie on his part because all he could really think about was that Gabriella was waiting for him to come strip her down and heat up the kitchen.
“Do you think you’ll have the place done in time?” Nicki asked.
Parker pushed out a breath. “I’m busting my ass to make it happen. As long as the construction crew stays on task, the equipment arrives on time, and everything passes inspection, I’d say there’s a chance.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“The big glass doors are new from the last plans I saw,” Nicki said with a nod toward the back wall.
“Yeah. Someone suggested it,” he said. “I thought it was a good idea. Now we can have a dining patio on the back that will overlook the vineyard and creek and add a place for smaller parties and receptions.”
“Someone who?”
Shit. He didn’t want to bring up Lili’s name. There was still too much animosity on Nicki’s part. But at some point, Nicki had to deal with the truth. And though he wanted to protect his sister—hell, all the members of his family—from any further heartache, it didn’t look like today was that day.
“Lili suggested it. She’s family too. And just like anyone else, she’s got a right to be a part of the development of the vineyard.”
“That’s not the way I see it.”
“Shit, Nicki.” Frustrated and tired of the recycled conversation, Parker shoved his fingers through his hair. “Why do you have to make everything an argument?”
“I’m not arguing.” Nicki lifted her chin. “You’re the one getting all defensive.”
“Of course I am. Because how are we going to resolve this?” he asked her. “How can we all possibly work together to build a future if you won’t even give it a chance? I understand your feelings—”
“No you don’t.”
“I do. Believe me, I do. But just like nothing you ever did had anything to do with Dad’s behavior toward you, Lili’s in the same place. She didn’t ask for him to be her father. She didn’t ask for him to abandon her in the same way he abandoned you. She didn’t have anything to do with the choices our father made. You’ve both been dealt a shitty hand. And you both have more in common than you’re willing to admit. You should be pulling together instead of pushing her away.”
Huge tears floated in her eyes. “Are you choosing her over me?”
“Of course not.” He hugged her again even though he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. “There are no sides. That’s what you have to understand. We’re all in this together. Nobody likes what happened. Nobody likes the situation. But we’re the only ones who can turn a negative into a positive, Nic. We can’t let the choices or the sins of our parents become our own. We have to fight—to come together—and be there for each other. Otherwise it will destroy us all. Don’t you see that?”
Nicole wiped her damp eyes with the sleeve of her coat. “You make it sound so easy.”
“I know it’s not easy. It’s all kinds of fucked up. But life is what you make it. And unless you want to be miserable for the rest of your life just so you’ll have more fuel for your songwriting, it’s not worth the energy to stay pissed.”
“I’d rather wri
te happy songs.”
“Then live a happy life.” Parker hugged her again, this time staying in the hold until he felt her body relax.
“You can let go of me now,” she said with her face muffled against his coat.
“Nope.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Still a nope.”
She slapped him on the arm and giggled. “You’re such a dork.”
“But I’m a dork that loves you. And I want you to be happy.” He held her away so he could look into her eyes. “You need to start talking to the rest of us more, Nic. Don’t hold all this in. We’re here for you. Every stupid one of us is here for you. Anytime. Anywhere. We may not have all the answers but we’ll try hard to find them.”
“I know.”
“And you should really try to open your heart toward Lili. Don’t blame her for something that wasn’t her fault. If you give her a chance, I think you might be pleasantly surprised at what you’ll find.”
Before she could answer, he pulled her back into his arms again until she nodded against his coat.
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“Love you, Nicki.”
Her arms finally came up and she hugged him. “Love you more.”
“Impossible.”
After several moments of a swaying embrace, they eased apart.
“Now get back to the house and finish that song for Groomzilla,” Parker told her. “And make some hot chocolate to warm up. Double the marshmallows.”
“Yes, Dad.” She gave him a little salute before she turned in her Ugg boots and left.
As he watched her go, Parker’s chest tightened and he pressed his fist tight against the center, wishing he could protect her from all the ugliness in the world.
One day when he had his own children, he’d make damn sure his top priority was that he and their mother maintained an honest, loving relationship until the day they died. He believed in the power and the honesty of marriage vows. Without an absolute dedication to upholding them, everyone—especially the children—suffered. And that hard lesson, as he’d recently learned, was completely unacceptable.
