by Francis Ray
Besides, she worked too hard and, from what he could tell, got very little appreciation. Ashton and Gabrielle weren’t the brats Max had imagined, but neither did they seem to be grateful for what a wonderful, loving mother they had.
But perhaps they weren’t alone. Since Max didn’t know the first thing about food preparation except the basics and his aunt was just as lost, he’d called his mother, who had been overjoyed to help him. She was getting ready to go to early-morning church services, but she welcomed his call.
He told her the dishes Gina had planned and asked how he could help. He’d gotten off the phone thirty minutes later with at least an idea of how he could help Gina, and he’d discovered something else. His mother missed him, worried about him. His calls every week or so weren’t enough. Her other three children and her two sisters might live in Memphis with her, but they didn’t negate her need to keep in touch with her oldest child. She sounded happier than he’d heard in a long time. Before hanging up, he promised to call more frequently.
Finished washing the fruits and vegetables as his mother had suggested, he set up the long table he’d used to put brochures on at the grand opening. Next came a plastic tablecloth, followed by Sharon’s white lace tablecloth. Max’s large hands smoothed out the few wrinkles. Usually he felt her presence when he used her things, but not this time. Attributing it to nerves, he finished setting the table.
“Looking good,” his aunt said.
“Morning. Thanks.” He checked his watch. “I’m going to run to the grocery store to get some flowers. Mama’s suggestion.”
“I’ll finish setting the table.” Sophia moved back into the kitchen.
“Use the yellow stoneware. I’m going to get yellow and white flowers.”
She chuckled. “Between Gina and my sister, you’re going to be a male Martha Stewart.”
He paused with the keys in his hands. “Gina’s the one. I wish she would give herself more credit.”
Sophia reached up for the plates in the cabinet. “I figure if she’s around you long enough, it will happen. You have a way with people.”
“You think she’ll leave?” The thought bothered him. He felt a strange emptiness at the notion that he wouldn’t see her every day.
“She does have a business of her own to run, doesn’t she?” Sophia asked. “She has her own dreams to fulfill.”
“I guess. Be back shortly,” Max said, continuing out the door to the detached garage in the back. He hadn’t thought of Gina leaving. Somehow when he thought of Journey’s End, he thought of her.
Guilt slammed into him before he took another step. His eyes shut. His head bowed. The B and B had been his and Sharon’s dream. As his aunt had pointed out, Gina had her own dream. How could he have forgotten that even for a second?
Straightening, he got into the Pathfinder, started the motor, and backed out. He’d do well to remember whose dream he wanted to see come alive.
. . .
Gina pulled up at Journey’s End and, as usual, Max came out almost immediately. Despite her jittery stomach, she had to smile. He wore a long white apron with a lobster on the front.
Opening her door, she stepped out of the car. “Hello, Max. Great apron.”
“Good morning, Gina, Gabrielle, Ashton. Need any help?”
Gina’s smile wavered. Max hadn’t smiled back at her. She thought she knew the reason. “Yes, thank you. In the trunk.” She activated the lock and went to the back of the car. “Don’t worry, Max. They’ll love Journey’s End.”
Without looking at her, he lifted the cardboard box. “I’m sure they will.”
“I’ll get the door, Max,” Ashton said, and ran ahead of him.
“What’s wrong with Mr. Innkeeper?” Gabrielle asked, staring after Max.
“He’s worried about the impression the B and B will make on the Invincibles, and I guess about my ideas to landscape the grounds,” Gina said, handing Gabrielle the gallon container of freshly brewed tea. She’d add the other ingredients just before she served the strawberry tea slush.
“But he was the one bragging about your cooking last night, about everything you did,” Gabrielle pointed out, her expression defiant.
Gina’s stomach, already jittery, knotted. She reached to pick up the small cooler containing the chicken breasts she’d marinated. “Maybe he changed his mind.”
“He’d better not,” Gabrielle said, and started toward the house.
Gina straightened at the angry note in her daughter’s voice. She opened her mouth to call Gabrielle back, but Max, with Ashton on his heels, came out of the door. As Max passed Gabrielle, she turned to glare at him.
Gina picked up the cooler by the handle and closed the trunk. The happiness she’d felt earlier was gone.
“I’ll take that.”
“I have it. Ashton, can you please get the door for me.”
“Sure, Mama.”
Going up the steps and into the house, Gina pushed the hurt out of her mind. She had a job to do.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Max asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Gina and Gabrielle had been busy in the kitchen since they arrived almost an hour ago.
“No, thank you.” Gina, mixing salad greens on the counter, spoke without turning.
“We don’t need you,” Gabrielle said coldly.
Gina glanced up at Gabrielle, then went back to what she’d been doing. “Max, your guests should be arriving soon. Why don’t you go wait for them.”
“Aunt Sophia is already on it,” he said without moving. He’d watched Gina for the past ten minutes. She flittered around the kitchen like a nervous butterfly. And Gabrielle kept throwing him dirty looks.
“Everything looks good,” he tried again. Gina had never been this jumpy cooking in the past.
“My mama knows what she’s doing,” Gabrielle said. “There’s no need to watch her.”
“Gabrielle,” Gina admonished, putting the salad in the refrigerator. “Please go check on Ashton.”
“I was about to finish making the tea,” Gabrielle protested.
“I’ll do it.” Gina removed the gallon of tea and shut the door after her. “The Invincibles should be here soon.”
Max stood in the kitchen, watching Gina ignore him, aware that he had set them on this course, and he felt like he’d kicked a small puppy.
“They’re here!” Sophia yelled.
“Come on,” he said, noticing Gina’s hesitation before she set the tea on the counter.
“Of course.” Taking her apron off, she draped it over a chair at the breakfast table. Stepping past him, she went to the front door.
Four women emerged from a spotless vintage Mercedes. He guessed their ages ranged from mid-to late sixties. Each was well dressed, with understated jewelry and a spectacular hat.
“Welcome to Journey’s End. Thank you for coming,” Gina went down the steps.
“You initially only invited Nettie to look over the grounds. I was thrilled you decided to extend the invitation to the rest of us.”
“I’m glad you could come.” She made the introductions of her aunt Ophelia, Nettie Hopkins, the master gardener, and the other Invincibles, Donna Crowley and Betsy Young. “Max and his aunt will show you inside, and I’ll bring refreshments out to the sunroom and serve.”
Max offered his arm to Nettie. “It will be my pleasure.”
The older woman put her arm lightly on his. “You have to be from the South.”
“Memphis, born and bred.” He slowed as they went up the steps.
“We won’t hold that against you,” Ophelia said.
In the sunroom, he paused. There were only six place settings. He looked at his aunt. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Gina and the children aren’t joining us?” Ophelia asked, her voice tight.
“I thought they were,” Max said, frowning.
Gabrielle entered, carrying a pitcher of tea and a basket of crackers. Directly behind her Gina carried the salad. Com
pliments flowed from each of the women on seeing the serving bowl made out of bread.
“Thank you.” Gina took the pitcher from Gabrielle and finished filling the tall tea glasses. “I’ll let you get acquainted during brunch, then afterward I can show Nettie the plans and walk her over the grounds. I’ll check back periodically to see if you need anything. Please be seated.”
No one sat. The Invincibles, aptly named, Max thought, looked at him as if he were cow dung. But more than that was the slight quivering in Gina’s voice. “There seems to have been a mistake,” he said.
Taking the pitcher from her unsteady hand, he placed it on the table and pulled out the head chair. “If anyone is going to be served, it is going to be you and Gabrielle. You did all the work.” He pulled out another chair. “Gabrielle.”
The teenager unfolded her arms and took the seat.
“But—” Gina began.
“I’ll pull Ashton away from the TV in the study and get him to wash up. Please,” Max said. He’d beg if he had to.
Her throat moved several times, as if she were having difficulty swallowing. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you,” he said, then straightened. “Aunt Sophia, I’ll get more chairs, if you’ll get the place settings.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Sophia left the room.
“Good.” Max smiled fondly at Gina, silently asking her forgiveness.
In a matter of minutes, everyone was seated around the table. Max picked up his tea glass and stood. “I’d like to propose a toast to Gina Rawlings. Her intuitive knowledge and warmth have helped me in countless ways at Journey’s End. The tea, the delicious food you’re going to eat today, will become the signature dishes of Journey’s End. To Gina.” He stared down at her. Her eyes were huge in her pretty face. Moisture sparkled in her chocolate brown eyes. “A woman of immeasurable worth, charm, and grace.”
“To Gina,” those sitting around the table chorused. Even Gabrielle and Ashton repeated the toast, although Gina’s son giggled.
Gina blushed, but her smile was back. Max was going to do everything in his power for it to remain.
FOURTEEN
It had been difficult, but Celeste was ready when Alec rang her doorbell Sunday morning. After much debate, she’d chosen an off-the-shoulder yellow knit top and white cropped pants. The yellow top complemented her olive-hued skin, but the way the top bared one shoulder tempted a man to think about what was beneath and contemplate seeing for himself.
Of course, it was a wicked thought, and one that had never entered her mind until yesterday, when Alec’s kiss made her crave more, crave him in the most decadent way. It went without saying that her patent and leather shoes matched her tote and were the exact same color as her yellow top.
She wanted to look sexy for Alec and sophisticated and classy to his family. She hoped they liked her, hoped he’d think she was desirable and not be able to wait to get her alone and rip off the top. She sighed and picked up her tote from the sofa. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. They had a long way to go before any ripping occurred—if at all.
She opened the door. Temptation stared back at her. Midnight black eyes raked over her in one encompassing, hot sweep, turning her legs to the consistency of wet noodles. Heat zipped through her as she did her own looking.
Oh, my! Not only was he built like a pagan god; he was gorgeous to boot. The white knit shirt delineated his muscled chest, the knee-length navy pants his strong thighs. His long, narrow feet were bare in navy deck shoes that had seen a lot of use. Looking at him, she wanted to do some ripping of her own.
“Hello, Alec,” she greeted despite the crazy thoughts in her head, and hoped her voice sounded casual.
“Celeste. You’re ready.”
“You sound surprised.” She stepped onto the porch to close the door. He didn’t step back. The contact of her body against the muscled hardness of his sent a frisson of heat and desire shooting through her. She gasped. Her gaze flew up to his and found his eyes trained on her mouth, his nostrils flared.
She couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. No, that was a lie. She wanted to close the distance between them, wanted his mouth on her, wanted it with everything within her.
“Alec.” Her voice was the barest whisper of sound.
His head lowered. Her breath caught. Muttering, he stepped off the porch. “We don’t want to be late.”
“O— of course.” She turned away to lock the door as much as to take a few calming breaths. She might have underestimated the power of the sexual pull between them. If she wasn’t careful, this could get out of control in a hurry.
With a smile on her face, she joined him on the sidewalk. He stood as still as a shadow, his expression hard. “Does your brother live far?”
“No.” He bit out the word. Opening the passenger door for her, he slammed it shut as soon as she was seated.
As he rounded the truck, another thought struck. Perhaps it wasn’t sexual tension. After all, she wasn’t that experienced. All right, she had no experience with this. No sexual spark was precisely the main reason she had called off her three engagements.
She waited until he got inside the car. “Alec, if you don’t want to take me, I’ll call and explain that something came up and you’ll be off the hook.”
He started the motor. She opened her car door.
His hard gaze snapped to her. “What the—” Reaching across her, he slammed the door shut, but in doing so his bare arm grazed her breasts. She sucked in her breath, his hissed through clenched teeth.
Cautiously she slanted a look at him. Both hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he had run a race. Since she was having her own breathing issues, she understood his reaction completely.
He was fighting the attraction. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she did know they were going to be around his family for the next few hours and they couldn’t be this jumpy. “Thank you again for the food. I was in my office until ten last night and then I worked at home until around one this morning. The first appointment was with an older couple who recently purchased a three-story house on East Bay. They want it completely redecorated. We drove over there, and it is an amazing property.”
Alec put the truck into gear and pulled off. She relaxed. “Despite what Patrick said, I baked a batch of tea cakes to take on the boat. I always get hungry when I’m on the water. My parents have a beach home in Galveston. Not that with my father’s busy practice they have time to go there very much.”
“Law?” Alec threw the one word at her when he stopped at a signal light.
“Cardiovascular specialist,” she told him. “He studied under Dr. DeBakey, the famed father of cardiovascular surgery. I love my job, but I miss my family in Houston.”
He pulled off. He seemed intent on the traffic more than on her or what she said.
“You must know what I mean,” she said as he drove into the entrance of the underground parking garage of a beautiful upscale condominium on the Ashley River.
He didn’t answer until he’d parked. “There is nothing that compares to family, but sometimes you need the space.”
“I thought that once, but when it all came down to it, what I really needed was the support and love of my family,” she said, not shying away from the pain and sorrow she’d carry for the rest of her life.
He looked at her, impatience in his eyes where she’d once seen desire. “Yeah, I’m sure something major happened. Maybe you couldn’t find the right dress for the prom?”
His derision angered her. “You can be such an ass.” Opening her door, she got out and slammed it shut.
He got out and slammed his as well. “Don’t slam my door.”
Smiling, she opened it, eased it closed a few inches, then slammed it shut. “Oops!”
He rounded the vehicle. She put her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed. He copied her pose.
“Having problems, big brother?”
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Celeste whirled to see a younger, gorgeous version of Alec walking toward them. Mischief shone from his dark eyes; laughter tumbled from sensuous lips. The man was a walking dream.
“Rafael Ricardo Dunlap at your service.” Performing a short bow, he took her hand. “And you are?”
“Cut the crap, Rafael,” Alec snarled.
Rafael ignored his brother, and Celeste decided to follow suit. “Celeste de la Vega.”
Rafael kissed her hand. “Charming name for an exquisite woman, and reminiscent of my grandmother’s country, where women are honored and adored.”
“Rafael!”
Rafael tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Shall we go upstairs? I want to see you in sunlight and perhaps later by candlelight.”
Celeste sighed. If Alec said those things to her, she’d be a goner. His brother was lethal.
“Celeste, you’re with me, or did you forget!”
She felt the sudden tension in the air, the stillness of Rafael, who had only been playing around. “I didn’t forget, but you seemed to have forgotten quite a few things.” She pulled her arm free from Rafael. “Please thank Patrick and Brianna for the invitation, but I have a headache. Good-bye.”
Rafael caught her arm when she started to move away. “I’d take you home if I thought it was necessary. I’ll see you both upstairs.” He looked at Alec. “I’ve always been proud of you.”
Alec closed his eyes, rammed his hands into his pockets. Nodding to her, Rafael went to the elevator, punched the button. It opened almost immediately. He entered and the door closed.
Indecision held Celeste still. No one had to tell her that Alec regretted his outburst. The Dunlap brothers were close. That meant they didn’t steal each other’s girlfriends. Rafael’s remark about being proud of Alec must have cut deeply.
“Rafael loves you.”
Alec’s eyes opened. “I was jealous,” he ground out, each word seemingly more difficult and more unbelievable than the last. “I trust him with my life.”
