Intertwined Hearts Series (4 book collection): (Intertwined Hearts, An Exceptional Twist, Tangled Paths & Grafted Vines)

by Kimi Flores

  Leaning into me, he growled, “Like that’s possible.”

  He picked up a wet sponge and began to vigorously wipe down the counter, then he reached for the bags on the floor, brushing up against me in the process. As much as I didn’t want to, I gasped, exhaling as my traitorous body reacted to his touch. I leaned into him, loving how close his body was to mine.

  But when I saw the smug look on his face, I abruptly pulled away. He knew how he affected me, and it infuriated me that I had no control of my emotions around him.

  “I’ll be right back. I have more bags in the car and a lot of flower arrangements.” I needed a moment away from him. Before I had a chance to turn, though, he came up behind me, his warmth covering my back, and my eyes closed involuntarily.

  He brought his mouth to the side of my face, his husky voice cutting through any defenses I had left. “Don't worry about it. I'll get them.”

  But these weren’t sweet nothings. He was messing with me, and it was working. I spun around, gazing into his mesmerizing eyes, then to his soft lips, and back. He appeared to be struggling internally as he watched me take him in.

  Good. I raised my chin. If he could dish it out, he could take it, too.

  “I’ll start in here.” I placed my hands on his chest, stepping away from his hypnotic gaze. But my plan backfired, and I had to fight even harder to keep his overwhelming presence from affecting me further.

  Groaning, he muttered something under his breath and left me alone to deal with the intense sensations he drew from me.

  It took a minute to compose myself. I let out a long breath, then started searching through the kitchen drawers for trash bags. Figuring I would clean out the fridge first, I pulled open the door and a putrid odor slapped me upside the head. “What the hell is that smell?”

  Stefen appeared just in time to see me gagging. Snickering, he put the rest of the bags on the counter. Then the stench hit him.

  He buried his nose into his shoulder, setting the bags down. “What the hell died?”

  I couldn’t answer him as I threw open the back door, gagging until I reached the yard. He followed closely behind. Breathing deeply, my eyes watered. We looked at each other, and all the tension from only moments before dissolved into a fit of laughter.

  “That smelled like a piece of shit threw up,” he laughed out loud, barely able to catch his breath.

  I crossed my legs, cackling uncontrollably. “Stop! You’re gonna make me pee!” I gasped for air between my hysterics.

  He bent in half, bracing himself on his knees. “I think I know what it is.” Grimacing, he admitted, “I may have put some shrimp chow mien take out in there last week. I guess I totally forgot about it.”

  Raising one eyebrow while scrunching the other down, I sneered, “Are you kidding me? How could you stand that smell when you opened the fridge?” Just thinking about it made me want to gag again.

  He shrugged. “I really don’t use it much. I eat out most of the time and when I don’t, I have something delivered.”

  That’s just sad. I loved to eat out occasionally, but the best meals always came from home. “You made pancakes,” I pointed out, recalling the mess in the kitchen earlier. “Didn’t you have to get the eggs and milk out?”

  He shook his head. “It was one of those mixes that you just add water.”

  “How did those taste?” I scrunched my nose. There was no way those pancakes tasted even remotely decent.

  He grimaced again. “Horrible, but I just thought it was because I burned a few.”

  I stifled a laugh, wondering how often he cooked. Must be a rare occasion. “I’ll take care of everything else, but you can get that rotten thing out of the fridge.” I shivered at the idea of doing it myself.

  Once the rancid offender was out of the house, Stefen helped me open all of the windows. A nice breeze blew in, clearing out the house. Nothing like the fresh ocean breeze to clear the air.

  “I didn’t think to keep up on the cleaning. I assumed they had a maid coming soon. Caleb’s always had one.” He leaned on the island, opposite from where I stood in front of the sink.

  “Abby doesn't believe in wasting money on things she can do herself. It's her home now, and she plans on cleaning it herself.” Pulling a bucket out from under the sink, I poured some floor cleaner in before adding water, then went in search for a mop.

  Stefen trailed behind. “Really? I've never heard of a woman who would turn down a maid service.”

  Of course you haven’t. I knew he’d grown up spoiled. It wasn’t necessarily his fault.

  Finding a closet under the stairway, I opened the door and bingo, the mop, broom, vacuum and everything else I would need were neatly nestled in there. I reached for the broom and mop, then returned to the kitchen. “I’m the same. I like taking care of my own space.”

  He looked at me like I’d just grown two heads. “If you say so.”

  I tried to put him out of my mind, committing to the task at hand as I cleaned the rest of the fridge then moved on to mopping the floor. He silently sat at the breakfast bar, observing me.

  “Either help or stop watching me please.” Looking over my shoulder, I caught him once again staring at my ass as I bent forward. Dammit, stop doing that! My eyes narrowed on him.

  Surprised out of his daydream, he didn’t hesitate to set the record straight. “Uh, no thanks. I’m not a housekeeper.” Without delay, he strode toward the stairs.

  I let out a breath, shocked that he just abandoned me, but relieved that I was finally alone.

  Once I finished the downstairs, I headed up to the second floor. “Stefen?” I called out.

  I do not need to walk in on him changing.

  “In here.”

  Treading softly, I reached the guest room he’d been staying in and poked my head in. “Is there a bathroom I can clean in here?”

  “There is, but I already did it.” He was pulling the covers up on the bed.

  “Okay.” He can’t clean the kitchen, but he’ll clean the bathroom? “I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything.”

  “No. I think you’ve done enough.” The snippy tone surprised me. He was irritated again, and I had no idea why this time. Although nothing had been settled, he seemed okay when we were downstairs.

  “I'm leaving then,” I said, dejected, heading into the hall.

  He dashed up behind me, asking in a rush, “Will I see you again before they get home?”

  I turned and, seeing how close we were, I took a few steps back and set the pail down between us. He grinned in the arrogant sexy way only he could get away with.

  “Probably not. I'm going home. I was going to make them some lasagna to bring over after they get home. I work all day tomorrow, but I’ll be here in time to serve dinner.”

  “I don't have anything else to do tonight, do you mind if I come and hang out?”

  Folding my arms over my chest, I tried to hide my irritation from his smirk. “Why? You were acting all pissy just a few seconds ago, and now you want to hang out?”

  “I know, sorry.” He reached out and grazed his finger back and forth across the hem of my shirt before letting it go “I just want to move on from what happened. We were having a great time before the wine tour.”

  Full of remorse, I let my arms drop to my sides, my head falling as my eyes looked up at him. “I’m sorry about that. I really am. I had no right to say what I did. I was having a great time, then everything just blew up.”

  Breathing deeply, he replied, “How about we let bygones be bygones, okay? I’d love to join you for dinner at your place tonight, if you don’t mind.” He cocked his head, waiting for my answer.

  There was a lump in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to believe him, but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t just sweep everything under the rug. Maybe we can talk about it over dinner. In my home, where I’m more comfortable.

  “Sure. I bought enough ingredients to make an extra. We can have it for dinner tonight. I hope you
don’t mind eating vegetarian lasagna two nights in a row.” I clasped and unclasped my hands. This is such a bad idea.

  “Vegetarian?” He grimaced, then seemed to resign to it. “Okay, works for me.”

  Swiftly gathering the cleaning supplies, I bounded down the stairs, “I'm ready when you are.”

  He charged down, meeting me at the bottom. “I need to make a quick stop on the way. Wanted to pick up some wine. You can head home. I’ll be there shortly after.”

  That reminded me of the really nice vineyard owner, Zachary. He’d given me a couple bottles of his wine before we’d left. In all the chaos, I’d lost them.

  I raised a finger to ask him, but stopped myself at the last second. Probably wouldn’t be wise. Smiling, I said, “See you soon.”

  ⁂

  Stefen

  After buying the items at the liquor store I needed for later, I headed to Leah’s loft. Tonight had only one purpose—getting Leah out of my system. Tonight would be romance and seduction.

  “I’m through with being her emotional punching bag,” I said aloud to myself, fully ignoring how crazy I sounded. “I have sex with women. I don’t get involved with their drama.”

  But even as I said the words, I hated how much they sounded like a lie. Frustrated, I hit the steering wheel. My stomach was churning. She wasn’t just another girl to screw, and I knew it.

  “Dammit, why did I let her get to me? I know better.” I always kept women at a safe distance for this exact reason.

  Hearing a gasp, I looked over to see an older woman in the car beside me, gaping as if I had in fact lost my mind. I gave her an annoyed smile and hit the gas once the light turned green.

  This is better, I told myself. I got to see her true colors the other night. She had outed herself. Good thing I hadn’t confessed anything to her yet. Thank god, she ruined it.

  Parking in a spot behind the flower shop, I grabbed for the box I’d just purchased and opened it, which was easier said than done. I shoved a handful of foiled wrappers into my front pockets, tossed the remainder into the glove box, then picked up the bottles of wine I also bought.

  Climbing the stairs, I reassured myself that this was a good idea. At least I hoped. When she opened the door, I got a whiff of her floral scent. It was concentrated in the small space she lived in. Up until this point, I hadn’t been inside her apartment and was pleasantly surprised by the rustic but feminine décor.

  Scanning the room, I asked, “What, no pink?” I had never been inside a single woman's home that didn't have some tone of pink in it.

  Leah followed my eyes. “No, that's Abby's color. She helped bring this place together, but I insisted no pink. I prefer red.”

  Perfect time to pour on the charm. “I've noticed.” I smiled in that way I knew women loved, adding, “And it looks stunning on you.”

  “Thank you.” A bashful smile lit up her face as she took the bottles from me. I followed her into the kitchen, taking a seat as she put the wine away and gathered some items from the fridge. I enjoyed watching her fluid movements through the small space.

  “How do you feel about chopping vegetables?” She turned, handing me a cutting board, knife, and a bowlful of veggies. Without waiting for my reply, she went back to stirring a pot of pasta sauce.

  The only sauce I’d ever used was poured out of a jar and sent into the microwave for heating. Even then, I burned the edges. Leah was gifted in many areas, including the kitchen.

  After watching her dance at our dinner date and at the studio, I had no doubt that her talents extended to the bedroom. My senses went on hyper alert as she tasted a bit of the sauce from the wooden spoon.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, “that's good. Wanna try?” She held the spoon up to me.

  My lips parted as I reached out and gently stroked my thumb along the contours of her hand, guiding the spoon toward my mouth. I flicked my tongue around the edge, then dragged it slowly across the bottom, licking every tantalizing drop.

  Leah watched me, her pupils expanding as my tongue slid out of my mouth and across my lips with a pleased look on my face. Energy sizzled between us. This was going exactly as I’d planned.

  I gave her a devilish smirk. “Outstanding. I can't wait to taste everything you have to offer.”

  Her eyes widened further before she turned back to the range, and I hoped she caught my double meaning. But if I didn’t put some space between us immediately, I was going to take her right there on the kitchen floor.

  “Bathroom?”

  “Sure, just give me a minute.” She ducked into what I thought was the bedroom and I wondered what she was doing. A minute later, she opened the door wider and called me over. “It's in here.”

  Then it hit me, I had gone to enough women’s homes to know that Leah probably wanted to make sure she hadn’t left any panties on the floor. I walked past the doorway, making sure to graze her chest with my arms along the way.

  When I was finished, I stepped out into her bedroom, taking a minute to feel it out. I ran my hand along the red velvet comforter, noting the crapload of throw pillows leaning against the headboard. Why do women always have so many damn pillows?

  Attached to the wall across the room, were black wooden letters that spelled out the word ‘Bucket List’. White-washed, framed chicken-wire hung under those words, along with pieces of flower-pressed paper fastened with clothes pins. Within the frame, sat a small silver bucket. I got closer and started reading the little slips of paper. They were the usual—fall in love, get married and have kids, girly kind of wishes. But the ones that specifically caught my eye, read:

  Mentor a single mom & help her open her own business

  Find studio space for my kids

  Create a community garden

  Remarkable. Even her list of life goals was chalk-full of things she wanted to accomplish for the benefit of others.

  As I stepped out of her private space, she was fiddling with the already prepared lasagna dish, looking uneasy.

  In an attempt to switch the mood, I suggested, “Wine?”

  Briefly closing her eyes, she let out a quiet exhale. “In the fridge, but I should have a few other bottles in there that are already cold. Get what you like and pour me a glass, too, if you don’t mind.”

  She must be relieved that I’m out of her room. I wonder what she’s hiding in there that would make her so nervous.

  I searched the shelves until I found the chilled bottles. Oh great—cheap wine.

  “Is this any good?” I held the bottle up for her. “I’m not familiar with the brand.” It was difficult to even make out the name on the label.

  “That’s one of my favorite everyday wines. Just give it a try.” She batted her eyelashes, propelling a whirl of desire through my body.

  Eye on the prize.

  Swallowing my pride, I drank the bargain wine. To my surprise, it wasn't bad. It was actually quite good.

  She caught my approving expression. “See, I told you it was good, Mister Wine Snob.”

  The second gulp didn’t go down so easy. How did she manage to piss me off and turn me on at the same time?

  “Would you mind putting these other lasagnas in the fridge? I'll stick them in the oven tomorrow before I come over.” Since her hands were full with plates and silverware, she gestured with her lips, pointing me toward the other glass baking dish covered with foil.

  I came to appreciate the way she pointed things out using nothing more than her beautiful lips. One of the cooks we’d employed when I was growing up was also of Salvadorian decent and pointed with her lips, as well.

  Must be a cultural thing.

  Casually swaying her captivating figure around the kitchen island, she set the dishes out on her tiny round dining table, throwing me an alluring grin. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

  She turned on her iPod and mellow background music began to play as we sat down to eat.

  I couldn’t believe how good the lasagna was. I devoured each forkful. “I’ll a
dmit I was skeptical when you said vegetarian lasagna, but this is fantastic.”

  Chewing the food before swallowing, she admitted, “Thanks, but I can’t take all the credit with this one. It’s actually Abby’s recipe. The version I usually make has three types of cheese, sweet Italian sausage, ground beef, veggies and tons of herbs.”

  “You’ll have to make that one next time, then.” Oh, shit. What was I saying?

  “Next time?” Confused, she tilted her head.

  I took a huge gulp of wine before correcting my mistake. “Well, you know what I mean. Two of the most important people in our lives are married. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of each other.”

  That thought hit me. Leah definitely was not a one-night stand, even if that’s what I was shooting for. We’d be running into each other as long as Caleb and Abby were married.

  Hmm—I thought about the possibilities.

  Maybe this could somehow work out. I didn’t mind having a new ‘go to’ girl.

  But that didn’t feel right. My emotions were tangled with Leah’s. There was no way things would turn out well for either of us.

  You sound like a chick, focus on tonight, I reminded myself.

  Now that both of our plates were empty, I grabbed our wine glasses and headed toward the couch. Leah picked up the dishes and put them in the sink. Joining me, she tucked her feet under herself in the corner of the sofa.

  Something caught my eye on the window ledge above the couch. Peering behind, I found a plastic flower with red petals. It was attached to a green stem and two leaves that looked like they were supposed to be arms sprouting out of a red flower pot base.

  Noticing where my eyes roamed, Leah explained, “One of the kids gave that to me. It dances when the sun hits the solar panel.” She smiled warmly. “She said it reminded her of me.”

  “It’s really sweet that you kept it.” Leah is sitting way too far from me. I scooted closer, then brushed my knuckles on her cheeks.

  Gulping loudly, she replied, “I save everything my kids give me.” She touched her mouth, unable to contain her grin. “It’s those little things that can brighten even my worst days.” She was practically glowing.