It was glorious.
She shopped on the way home from work Friday night, checking her lists twice. She went to the shops her mom had favored, and it was good to chat with the owners again. It felt good to be preparing to cook, and that she’d be hosting a party. Optimistic. Celebratory. Happy. She planned to have some things delivered Saturday morning and would invite some of her neighbors to the party when she saw them.
She was at the butcher shop, deciding if she’d forgotten anything, when the guy behind the counter fixed her with a look. “Aren’t you Mr. Thornton’s daughter?”
Amy blinked. He was maybe ten years younger than her and vaguely familiar. “I am. Were you one of his students?”
“One of his projects, more like,” the guy admitted with an easy smile. “He was a good teacher. I was sorry to hear he got sick.”
“Me, too.”
“I should have come to the hospital.” He gestured to her purchases and Amy shook her head, because she had everything she needed. He carried her choices to the cash and she sensed that he had more to say. “I came to the funeral, but you probably don’t remember.”
“Sorry, I don’t.” Amy had been too upset to be aware of everyone that day. She smiled. “A lot of people came. It was a nice tribute.”
“Well, he made a difference, you know. He was the first person who believed in me, the first one who challenged me to try.” The younger man shrugged. “I was hanging out with these guys. I thought they were cool, but your dad didn’t. He told me I was too smart to just go with the flow, that I should figure out what I wanted and chase that.”
“That’s what he did,” Amy said.
“Yeah. That’s what he said. That you have to have the conviction to go after your dreams, because that’s the only way they come true.” He smiled, then wiped his hand before offering it to her. “Name’s Jesse. I’m very sorry for your loss. I should have gone and told him that he’d helped me change.”
“I bet he knew,” Amy said, her tears rising.
“Maybe,” Jesse acknowledged. “You need anything, I’m here to help.”
“Thank you, Jesse.” Amy was touched by the reminder of her dad’s influence. Jesse’s words just made her more determined to return to the land of the living, to stop marking time and keep chasing her dreams.
She arrived home, laden with groceries and filled with plans. She put the eggs in the fridge then climbed the stairs to invite Lisa and Mrs. P. to the party before she started to cook. She fed Fitzwilliam, then changed her clothes and began on her prioritized list.
Lothair and Argenta would have to wait a few days.
Amy felt as if her mom was standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder, giving advice about when the dough was just right, when the filling had enough seasoning, when the sauce was thick enough.
She thought about Ty and couldn’t suppress a little shiver of anticipation. He’d be here at her house, in her kitchen, acting like they were a couple again. If he wasn’t so nice, she would have jumped his bones.
Doing so would undoubtedly shock him.
On the other hand, she did enjoy shaking up his assumptions a bit. Maybe she would jump his bones.
Amy thought about Matteo and what they’d done this week and felt a different kind of tingle. The danger certainly gave her an adrenaline rush.
Was he as bad as he tried to appear? Amy couldn’t believe it. He’d touched her so gently. So reverently. He’d just had bad luck, she was sure of it.
Maybe he just needed someone to believe in him, the way that her dad had believed in Jesse.
Maybe he needed the love of the right woman.
Maybe that was thinking too far ahead, but by the time the lasagna noodles were hanging to dry and the ravioli had been filled, Amy knew what she had to do. She washed her hands and got her phone. She hesitated for a moment because it was late. She glanced at the night sky beyond the window, then took a deep breath and called Matteo.
* * *
Ty was sorting out his files for the trip to Japan, ensuring that he had the phone numbers and emails for all of his contacts programmed into his phone, and double-checking his reservations when the burner phone rang.
At first, he wasn’t sure what the sound was. It chirped, a completely different ring tone from his own phone. By the third ring, he realized what it was and dove into the kitchen to snatch it up before Amy abandoned the call.
She’d called Matteo.
At midnight.
“Hello, Angel,” he purred into the phone, even as he wondered what was going on.
“You knew it was me,” she said and didn’t sound entirely surprised.
“I told you. I got this phone for you.”
“How many phones do you have?” she asked with a welcome suspicion.
“I cannot share all of my secrets, Angel. Is there a reason you are calling?”
“There is.”
He heard her take a deep breath, as if to steady herself.
“Talk dirty to me, Matteo.”
Ty blinked even as a jolt slid through him.
“Tell me what you’d like to do to me, in complete detail,” she continued, her voice strengthening with conviction. “Every naughty little bit. I want to hear it all.”
Every naughty little bit.
Shit.
Ty hurried across his apartment to dig out the books he’d put aside. He reminded himself that Amy was doing research, but this didn’t feel like any research he’d ever done.
“Matteo? Are you there?”
“I am deciding, Angel, how naughty you wish me to be.”
“Very naughty,” she said, her tone husky with need. “I want wicked and I want outrageous, and I want it now.”
Ty flipped open a book, scanning the text in desperation. “Tell me what you are wearing first, Angel,” he said, to stall for time.
“A T-shirt and jeans.”
Ty considered this. “Naked, Angel,” he said, letting his voice turn harsh. “I want you naked, now.”
“Yes, Matteo.”
“I want you in your bed, blindfolded, naked, and waiting for me.”
“Oh, yes, Matteo.”
Ty took advantage of the few moments required for her to follow his instruction to locate a sexy scene in one of the books he’d picked up. He’d thought at the time that taking the woman captive and using her as a sex slave had been a bit over the top, but if they were exploring forbidden fantasies, this looked like a good candidate for the dirty talk Amy wanted.
“Imagine that you are waiting for me,” he said, making his voice low and silky. “Imagine that you have left the door unlocked and prepared for me, following my instructions perfectly.”
“Ohhhh, yes,” Amy said, exhaling the words in a way that got Ty right where he lived.
Maybe Matteo didn’t have to die just yet.
Maybe he’d survive this phone call, just to see how far Amy wanted to go with this.
Wherever she wanted to go with it, Ty had a feeling he’d be right there with her.
* * *
Amy was done.
She surveyed her kitchen with satisfaction. She’d worked all day, but it had been joyous work. Her back ached a bit, but her counter was covered and her fridge was full. Everything was ready, and it had come out brilliantly.
Because she’d had her mom’s notes.
It was only eight on Saturday night, but she was going to crash so that she’d be fresh and ready the next morning. She was heading for the shower when her phone rang. She snatched it up, hoping it was Ty, then saw that it was Brittany.
“Hi, Brittany.” Amy winced when her cousin’s triumphant laughter echoed in her ear.
“I changed everything!” Brittany declared. “You said it couldn’t be done, but I fixed it all.”
Amy sat down hard, a cold knot in her stomach. “What exactly did you fix?”
“The menu, of course. I never wanted chicken…”
“But your mom did.”
“Who cares what she wants?
I wanted roast beef and so does Nick, and so I went there today and changed everything to what I want. It’s my wedding, isn’t it?”
Amy rubbed her forehead. “And what are the vegetarians going to eat?”
“I don’t care.” Brittany paused. “They can have the salad, or the shrimp appetizer.”
“Vegetarians don’t eat shrimp,” Amy said wearily. “Neither will the guests requesting kosher meals or the ones with shellfish allergies.”
“Then they can eat the pecan pie.”
“That’ll work for the diabetics, too.” Amy knew her sarcasm was unkind but Brittany missed it.
“There are diabetics?”
“Twenty-eight diabetics, eight vegetarians, six vegans, two rawists, twenty-three lactose-intolerant guests, and forty-seven requesting gluten-free.” Brittany seemed to be startled to silence by this, so Amy continued. “Twenty-one shellfish allergies and thirty-seven nut allergies, the majority of which are listed as anaphylactic.”
“What does that mean?” Brittany demanded with suspicion.
“They can die. People with allergies that severe don’t even need to eat the substance in question.” Amy took a deep breath, not feeling particularly inclined to be nice to her cousin. “The catering manager and I planned a menu with no trace of any of those substances because I assumed you wouldn’t want anyone to get sick or die at your wedding.” She paused for a minute. “My mistake.”
“Oh. My. God.” Brittany whispered. “Well, you have to fix it!”
“No,” Amy said, bracing herself for the tears.
They came in a torrent.
Amy held the phone away from her ear when Brittany wailed.
“My wedding is going to be a disaster and it’s all your fault. You were supposed to be helping me, but now my dress doesn’t fit and someone’s going to die and the flowers are all wrong…”
“What happened to the flowers?”
“His mother changed her corsage, because it won’t match her dress and now it won’t match anything else…”
“The mother of the groom’s corsage doesn’t have to match the other flowers,” Amy said with more patience than she felt.
“Yes, it does! Of course, it does!” The tears began again. “I thought my wedding was going to be perfect but every bit of it is going to shit. I should never have trusted you!”
Amy finally snapped.
“And I should never have expected you to delegate the arrangements and leave them alone,” she replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That even a big wedding like this shouldn’t have been this much work. That I shouldn’t have spent so much time on the phone or on my way to New Jersey or negotiating between you all over trivial details.”
“Trivial!”
“Trivial,” Amy repeated. “They do say that no good deed goes unpunished, and I guess that’s true. I did this because you’re my cousin and I wanted to be helpful, but I’m done. Fix it yourself.”
“I can’t fix it myself! Amy, you have to help me.”
“See, that’s just it. I don’t have to help you and if you don’t ask me nicely, I won’t.”
“Bitch!” Brittany screamed and ended the call.
Amy knew her cousin well enough to anticipate that she’d call back within five minutes and try to change Amy’s mind. She turned off her voice mail, knowing she had to call someone.
If she called Ty and told him what had happened, he’d be proud of her. The problem was that she was pretty sure she would ultimately cave in and fix the arrangements. Even though she was frustrated with Brittany, she liked to finish what she’d started. Ty probably wouldn’t like that.
Better if he didn’t know at all.
No, what she needed was a treat.
An indulgence.
Something sinful and naughty.
A forbidden pleasure.
The choice was obvious.
Amy dialed and spoke as soon as he answered.
“Talk dirty to me again, Matteo,” she whispered. “Tell me the sexiest thing you’ve ever done with a woman.”
“Such a naughty angel,” he purred and she shivered with delight. “I will tell you the harshest punishment I ever gave a woman, and how she loved it.”
“Yes, please,” Amy said.
It was research, plain and simple.
But when Matteo murmured to her in his deep gravelly voice, Amy’s reaction didn’t feel plain or simple at all.
* * *
Talk dirty to me.
Amy was driving Ty crazy.
He’d thought the first call was bad. This one had gone right off the rails to uncharted territory. He was wound up, and aroused, ready to get in his car and go to Amy’s house to do all things they’d just talked about.
Because she loved it.
Or at least the idea of it.
Ty paced his apartment, replaying her words in his thoughts.
Because Amy had talked dirty to him this time. Really dirty. And it thrilled him, even though she thought he was another guy. Who was actually him. The whole game was fucking with his mind and his assumptions, yet it was addictive all the same.
He wanted to call her back and go another round.
Worse, what he wanted to do to Amy was even naughtier.
He wanted to make her fantasies come true.
He wanted her to know it was him doing as much.
But if he told her the truth, she might break off the fake date or even stop speaking to him. It was a mess.
A beautiful, exciting mess.
He doubted that begging for mercy would make one bit of difference if he confessed the truth. She’d never forgive him if she knew what he’d done, and he couldn’t imagine being without her in his life.
Ty was never going to sleep.
He decided to go down and swim laps, but he took the burner phone with him, just in case.
* * *
Sunday dawned sunny and warm, as if Amy had ordered the perfect weather.
Or Ty had ensured it was right for her party.
She accused him of that when he arrived and liked how he laughed. “I don’t have that much influence,” he said. “Now, what can I do?”
He’d arrived first, of course, dressed more casually than Amy had ever seen him before. He wore jeans that fit in all the right places and had brought the wine. He got her dad’s collection of wicker furniture out of the garage for her and hung the lanterns on the clothesline before Paige and Derek arrived.
By then, he was doing it again.
He touched Amy casually, keeping up the show for Derek and Paige. It seemed he was always behind her, always dropping his hand to her waist, always brushing his fingertips across her cheek or tucking her against his side. Worse, he kissed her on the temple and the cheek, stirring her emotions and making her flustered, then watched her intently.
With that delicious little smile tugging his lips and revealing his dimple.
He was driving Amy crazy. Two long, hot calls with Matteo had left her itching for satisfaction, and Ty wasn’t helping with his light caresses. She wanted sex more than she’d wanted it before in her life, and thought she’d scream if she had to hang on any longer. The tease was monumental—and the day had barely begun.
Amy was sure that if he kept this up, she wouldn’t manage to take a complete breath all day. Ty made such a good show of adoring her that even she was halfway convinced. She blushed more than she thought humanly possible. Derek and Paige clearly loved the display, and Amy supposed that her reaction only added to their conviction that she and Ty were deeply in love.
Paige stepped up to help Amy as the guys got Derek’s ladder from his truck, fastening down the tablecloth and admiring all the food.
“No paper plates?” she asked.
“My mom always said guests should get real dishes,” Amy replied with a smile, and began to carry her mom’s party collection out to the one long table.
Ty spotted Derek on the ladder when he went
up to check the roof, and Amy showed Paige the main floor of the house before the other guests arrived.
Paige was smitten with the fireplace in the living room. They shared ideas of how the house could be renovated, and Paige did have some great ideas. The two women exchanged numbers and email addresses, Paige clearly assuming that Amy and Ty would be together for the duration. She also gave her the number for Lauren’s shop, pointing out that if Amy ever wanted a cut or color, Lauren was the best.
By then, Derek was sitting with his laptop in the corner of the kitchen. He compiled his estimate, then showed it to Amy on the laptop screen.
“I’ll email it to you, too,” he said. “A little higher than I thought, but you need some point work done on the chimneys. We’ll put caps on them while we’re there, and new flashing, of course.” He indicated a separate line item. “That’s for new gutters. I think you’re due, and it’s a lot easier to do them the same time as the roof. I know a coppersmith who can probably fix the cap of your turret, too, rather than needing to replace it. I made a guess on that cost here.”
Amy stared as her heart soared. Even with the extras, it was lower than the old estimate in her kitchen drawer. She wanted to hug somebody.
It could also be put on the new line of credit that Red had set up for her and wouldn’t even take it all.
“That must include a big discount,” she said and Derek grinned.
“Like I said, family price.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “A little better, actually, in exchange for having my sign on your front lawn for a couple of weeks.” He watched her closely, so obviously wanting the work that Amy smiled.
“Deal,” she said, offering her hand. “When can you do it?”
“Fourth of July weekend? We’re taking Monday and Tuesday off, but a couple of the guys are always ready for some overtime. Even with a smaller crew, we can get it done in four days if the weather is good.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’ll check the long distance forecast and confirm with you closer to the date.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.” Amy realized that Ty had been watching her the whole time so she smiled at him across the kitchen. And thank you, she mouthed, though Paige noticed. Amy saw the smile she exchanged with Derek.
“Hello!” someone called from the backyard and Amy hurried to greet her guests. A new roof just six weeks away.
Simply Irresistible Page 22
