Dinner at Eight-epub

by Jess Dee

  “I know you won’t believe me,” she murmured quietly when her tears had subsided and her breath had evened out, “but I…I liked your kiss.”

  Jared closed his eyes against a rush of emotion. “I liked it too.” So damn much.

  She kept her face burrowed against his chest. “Do you think, maybe, we could try it again sometime?”

  He laughed softly. “I think we might be able to arrange it.” He’d kiss her all day, every day given the opportunity. “Do you think, maybe, the next time we try it, we do so without the death grip on my balls?”

  “Um, about that…”

  Jared waited, but Ava said no more on the matter. Her shoulders, however, grew rigid.

  He refused to let the tension to build between them again. They’d already gone through the wringer once. That was enough. “It’s all good, Torres. You were only protecting yourself.” One day he’d like to feel that firm grip again—just without her fear and the menacing intent. “Now how about we get to Hurricane’s before they give our table away? I’m starving.”

  “You still want to have dinner with me? Even if I’m acting a little crazy?”

  “Were you not paying attention earlier? I always want to spend time with you. Even when you’re acting crazy.”

  Ava finally looked up at him. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About loving me?”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Every word of it.”

  She frowned. “And you say I’m acting crazy.”

  “You are acting crazy.” He smiled at her. “But I still love you.”

  Ava didn’t return the smile. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Love me.”

  “Too late.”

  “No, Jar, craziness aside, I’m telling you, don’t love me. Don’t be in love with me. I-I have nothing to offer in return. I stopped believing in love and fairy tales and happy ever afters a year ago. I tried it once. Went the distance, gave it everything I had to give, and it almost killed me.”

  Jared hated her choice of words. “I’m not Anthony. Whatever he did, however he hurt you, I would never do that.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not about him. Not anymore. This is about me. I can’t do it, I just don’t have the capacity to love again.”

  Bull. Shit.

  Ava had an endless capacity to love. The strong friendships she’d forged over the years and her close family bonds were evidence of that. Hell, it might be platonic, but she loved him too. If she didn’t, she’d never try to warn him off her.

  Obviously it was romantic love that scared her. If Anthony had hurt her physically, then her fear was justified. She’d equate romantic love with pain and suffering.

  But it was just like Jared had told her. He wasn’t Anthony. He wouldn’t harm her. More than that, he was a patient man. If it took forever to convince Ava she was capable of falling in love again, he’d be right beside her for the entire journey.

  If she’d give him the chance, he’d give her the true fairy tale—complete with her very own happy ever after.

  Damn it, he’d give her the world if he could.

  Rather than fight her on the matter, Jared conceded. “I’ll consider myself warned. Now, move your butt, woman. There’s a steak with my name on it and a reservation that’s not going to wait for us.”

  Chapter Five

  Dinner was remarkably pleasant. They walked to the restaurant in half silence, Jared seemingly content to leave Ava to her thoughts. He sang his tuneless songs most of the way. But once they were seated—a good half an hour late—he began chatting like…well, like they were old friends.

  It was as though nothing groundbreaking had transpired between them. As though she’d never blabbed about her childhood crush and he’d never confessed his adult love.

  He laughed away her awkwardness about grabbing his balls and made light of the kiss that had almost blown her mind. Jared behaved the way he always did around her. Teasing, talking, smiling and genuinely enjoying her company.

  She told him about her new cookie shop, and he regaled her with stories about his time overseas, spoke at length about the animals and the refuge and discussed the three interviews he’d already set up for work.

  When they arrived back at her place, Jared refused her invitation to come in, pleading exhaustion. He left her at the open front door with a peck on the check, promising to see her during the week.

  While his behavior should have reassured Ava that everything was normal between them, it didn’t. She was a wreck.

  She’d almost attacked Jared. Grabbed his balls in warning. Had he not sweet-talked her out of her terrified stupor, she might well have done him damage. Thank God he’d taken it with a pinch of salt. Though why he had, Ava wasn’t sure.

  Then there was that kiss, which had totally knocked out her sense of gravity.

  For close to a year, Ava had told herself she’d never get involved with another man. She’d sworn off love and romance and sex, and all the other bits that came with a relationship.

  She hadn’t experienced a physical urge in all that time. The thought of being touched or kissed intimately left her cold. Sex was so far out of her realm of probability or desire, she’d welcomed the prospect of never diving into bed with a man again.

  Sex led to intimacy, intimacy led to love and love led to pain.

  Ava wanted no part of any of it.

  Yet she’d welcomed Jared’s kiss. Anticipated it—and returned it. She’d opened her lips to him, inviting his tongue inside, and responded with a burst of lust she’d long believed herself incapable of.

  Then he’d startled her, crushing his lips to hers, and she’d reacted on instinct, nipping his passion in the bud. Cue the unpleasant testicles incident.

  Self-defense strategies aside, that kiss had stirred something in her. Reminded her that she was a woman with very basic needs. And those needs had not subsided with the end of the kiss and her attack.

  Dinner had assuaged her hunger. A cocktail had quenched her thirst—and helped with the trembling in her hands. But nothing eased the throbbing in her pussy. The same throbbing that had pulsed to life when Jared slid his tongue into her mouth.

  Eleven years ago, she’d have killed for Jared’s kiss, but she’d been a kid. A lifetime had passed since then. So why now, when desiring Jared was about the furthest thing from her mind, and his kiss had thrown up every guard she had, did she silently ache with the need to share another kiss with him? Her friend.

  She checked Liv’s room, hoping to find her flat mate home, but of course she wasn’t. She was spending the night upstairs at Jimmy’s. Pity. Some girl talk would have been a good distraction.

  Listless, she turned to the kitchen. A tub of ice cream would help.

  Only it didn’t. Ava’s appetite was not for dessert.

  Perhaps a shower would wash away her desire?

  No luck there. The pounding of warm water made her skin tingle, and the slip and slide of her soapy hands only exacerbated its sensitivity. With a frustrated cry, Ava turned off the taps and dried off.

  Slipping on her favorite T-shirt, the one softened with wear, she climbed into bed and flipped on the telly, searching the channels for something to watch. A movie rerun caught her eye, and she tried to lose herself in the story.

  She couldn’t. All she could think about was the T-shirt. She slept in it so often, Liv teased her that it had become her second skin. It was, of course, too big to fit like a second skin and long enough that it fell down to her knees. The Quiksilver logo on the front had faded almost to invisibility from repeated washes.

  The shirt was Jared’s.

  He’d lent it to her after a rainstorm, and Ava had never given it back. She’d forgotten all about it, until months later, when she’d returned to her flat—after Anthony had moved out. Lonely, defeated and miserable, she’d come across it in the back of her wardrobe.

  Putting it on had somehow made her feel less alone and closer to Jared,
as though wearing it narrowed the miles between them.

  Tonight, the shirt didn’t offer its usual comfort. It clung to her body, rubbing against her skin—already sensitized by water and soap. And though she knew it was insane, not to mention impossible, she swore she smelled Jared’s aftershave on it.

  The feel and the scent drove her crazy. With a frustrated wheeze, she pulled off the shirt and tossed it to the floor.

  It didn’t help. The scent still clung to her.

  Maybe it was in her hair. She’d been wrapped in his arms, her head pressed against his chest. He’d kissed her. His aftershave could certainly have rubbed off on her.

  Complicating matters, the soft cotton of the doona now rasped over her bare chest, teasing her breasts. They were heavier than usual, her nipples hard, and each time she moved, the brush of cotton over them made her want to groan.

  Liv wasn’t in the flat. Ava could moan out loud, and no one would hear.

  The thought was somehow…liberating. She arched her back, deliberately brushing against the doona cover and gasped at the resultant prickle of excitement.

  God, she hadn’t felt that prickle in forever. She’d almost forgotten what being aroused did to her. Ava had been so intent on covering and ignoring her breasts, she’d failed to remember how responsive they were to the lightest touch.

  She scraped a nail over a nipple, stunned by the wanton response of her body. The walls of her pussy clenched, and the throb intensified. Cupping both breasts, she experimented by running the pads of her thumbs over her nipples, and moaned as a thrill washed through her.

  She trailed a tentative hand down her belly and slipped a finger over the front of her panties. Her hips bucked as she touched her clit.

  Um, okay. Wow.

  Ava closed her eyes, let her head fall back against the pillow and traced soft circles over her swollen bud.

  Yeah, definitely good.

  For long seconds she played, deliberately blanking her mind. If she thought this through too deeply, she’d begin to make associations with sex and love and marriage and pain, and right now, she didn’t want to. For once, she just wanted to run with the sensations Jared had stirred in her.

  Jared. Her childhood crush. Her best friend. And the man who’d made her remember she was a woman—with womanly needs.

  Was it terrible to think of him as she dipped her hand beneath her panties and found her bare clit? Was it bad to relive his kiss as she moved her finger lower, sliding it over her pussy lips?

  They’d both been aroused. For the second he’d hauled her into his arms, his erection had pressed against her belly. His actions had scared the bejeepers out of her then. Now, the memory of that erection made her belly flip with excitement.

  She slipped her finger between her pussy lips, and warm moisture oozed onto it.

  Ava was wet—for Jared.

  Her heart pounding, she slid her finger over her slickened folds and back up to her clit. The tentative touch was too hesitant. Too uncertain. She needed more pressure, more focused attention.

  She needed to…come.

  Her breath caught.

  That was exactly what she needed. Tension built inside her, making her pussy pulse. Her inner walls clenched, as though seeking something to grasp.

  She plunged a finger inside, and a surprised, “Oh,” burst from her as gratification erupted.

  She’d forgotten. Repressed all memories and thoughts of sex. And in the process, failed to recall how damn much she liked it. Loved it. How responsive her body was to stimulation. And how incredibly amazing she could feel.

  How could she have forgotten?

  She stroked her finger in and out, her belly spasming in response. And then she plunged another finger in, stretching her walls.

  God, she was tight, as though lack of use had made her shrink. But she was wet enough that her thrusts only enticed and tantalized, the pleasure spiraling.

  Ava pressed the heel of her hand against her clit, relishing the build and the climb. Relishing the freedom she found in touching herself. She’d missed this physical satisfaction. For too long she’d denied it.

  She would deny it no more.

  Thanks to Jared, she was well on her way to experiencing her first orgasm in almost a year.

  Jared, her beautiful, kind, tender, sexy friend.

  Jared, whose brown eyes shone with affection every time he looked at her.

  Jared, whose declaration of love had stunned her, and whose lips and tongue had set her on fire.

  Jared, whose balls—once she’d become aware she was holding them—had fit all too well in the palm of her hand.

  Jared… Jar… Jared!

  Oh God. She was coming. Climaxing so damn hard… to thoughts of her best friend. Rapturous pulses thumped through her pussy, her muscles tightening around her fingers. Her clit throbbed wantonly, her body jerking in time with her orgasm.

  Her thighs clenched tight, tighter still, until a hoarse groan was wrenched from her throat.

  Long seconds later, when the tremors had ebbed and her muscles had relaxed to goo, Ava collapsed back against the sheets, her breath coming in harsh rasps.

  God, that had been decadent. And delicious. And so damn good.

  Good enough that she might just have to do it all over again.

  Chapter Six

  “Jared?” Ava blinked at him over the glass display case of her shop. “What are you doing here?”

  The sight of her walloped him in the gut—just like it always did. Would he ever see her and not feel pole-axed? “You’ve sent me pictures of One Smart Cookie. Now it’s time to visit in real life. Up to giving me the grand tour?”

  Her mouth drew into a smile of delight. “Always.” She waved him around the counter. “You’re just in time. I’m about to take a fresh batch of white choc and macadamia cookies out of the oven. Nessy?” She looked at the other woman standing behind the display.

  “I’ve got it, boss. Go ahead.”

  The small shop was filled with customers, all of whom would now miss out on being served by his gorgeous friend. Jared hid his smug smile.

  Ava took his hand and tugged him into the back room. Delicious smells hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold, making his stomach contract with hunger.

  The small kitchen was equipped on one wall with ovens and a huge fridge, and the other with countertops. Two large electric mixers stood against the far side of the room, and cupboards took up every available inch of space. Tray upon tray of cookies sat on silver, mobile cooling racks.

  “So? What do you think?” Ava pulled on industrial-strength gloves and opened an oven.

  A waft of heaven-scented heat hit him in the face.

  “I’m impressed. The place looks great.” Ava had done an amazing job. The shop was decked out in eye-catching reds and white. Had Jared been walking past, none the wiser as to who owned the store, he’d have walked inside just to look around.

  The glass case in the shop front was simple, geared toward displaying the cookies to the max. Each one of them looked mouthwatering.

  An elaborate coffee machine sat beside the display case, and four small tables with three stools each had been set out, so shoppers looking for a quick break to enjoy a cookie and a coffee could rest their weary feet.

  Ava removed a large tray from the oven, sliding it into one of the racks. “Jimmy designed the shop and Liv decorated it. I couldn’t have done it without either of them. And Liv got me great discounts on all the equipment and furniture.”

  She removed a second tray, and Jared feared he might pass out from hunger pains. The interview he’d just had, for a temporary consultant position at an established veterinary practice in Randwick, had run way overtime, and he’d skipped lunch.

  “Give these cookies a couple of minutes to cool down and then you can try one. You’ll burn your tongue if you take it now. Your fingers too.”

  Jared looked around, taking in every tray. “You did all of this, Av? You baked them all?”
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  She laughed as she removed a final tray. “It’s my job. Nessy helps. Or Delia, depending on who’s working. They’ve both been with me from the beginning. It’s usually me and one of them in the shop, but for a few hours every weekend I’ve started leaving the place to them and some part-timers, so then they do all the baking.”

  “And these cookies?” He gestured to the cooling racks. “How did you come up with recipes for all of them?”

  She shrugged. “Trial and error. I played with the original recipe, adding, or switching one thing or another until I found winning combinations. It’s fun discovering new flavors. Hard work, but fun.”

  Jared walked over to a rack, inhaling deeply. “What are these?”

  “Anzac cookies. The only biscuits I sell that aren’t really mine. Zoey’s grandmother gave me her recipe—on condition I send her a box once a week. More than a fair trade, I thought. Try one.” She picked up a cookie with a pair of tongs and handed it to Jared.

  He consumed it slowly, humming his appreciation. “That’s delicious.”

  “I know, right?” She grinned. “These ones on the lower racks are my Healthy Bites. I replace sugar and refined flour with honey, ground nuts, whole-wheat flour and chia. Oi, stop grimacing.” She poked him in the ribs. “They’re delicious.”

  “As bird food maybe.” He shook his head when she picked one up with her tongs. “I want the sugar and refined flour.” Lots of it. “What are these?” he pointed to a different rack. The cookies looked almost as good as Ava.

  “Triple Chocolate Delights. Milk, dark and white choc chips, drizzled in milk and white chocolate.” Jared didn’t refuse her offer this time. “It’s my personal favorite, but too rich to have more than half a cookie at a time.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he made short work of the delicious morsel. “I’m not having that problem.”

  “I’d offer you another, but taste the One Smartie Cookie instead.” She handed him a biscuit crammed full of brightly colored, candy-covered chocolates.

  He chewed thoughtfully. “Mmm, nice. Too sweet for me, but I bet kids love it.”