“What the hell, Dad?”
“I’m not so old that I can’t knock some sense into you still.” Harry was panting, his eyes burning as he glared at Ben. “You’ve got more heart than anyone I know, but you keep it hidden behind that bullshit temper and the guilt that fuels it. You did not ruin your brother’s life, Benny. He did that all on his own. Hell, if it weren’t for you watching out for him—for both of us—things would have gone to hell a lot quicker than they did. You tell everyone the story of how Artie made you want to be a chef. But you were cooking long before you got that job in the restaurant.” Harry pointed a meaty finger at Ben. “Do you remember? Do you remember when and why you started cooking?”
Ben shut his eyes, but that didn’t stop the memories from crystallizing in his mind. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.
“It does to me, and it should to your brother. He was picky, just like Zach. You started experimenting with whatever we had in the kitchen, trying to come up with food he would eat.”
“He was so skinny, especially after Mom left.”
“Between you inventing new things for him to try and the breakfasts you practically force-fed me as hangover remedies, it’s a wonder you can tolerate being in a kitchen.”
“It was all I could do.” Ben sank down onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands. He’d blocked most of the memories from his childhood other than the ones that had led to Cory’s downward spiral. Now he let some of the good things trickle in, even though the pain from those was different and almost more acute than the punishment of blaming himself. “It was a challenge, you know? Trying to make things he would eat. Seeing how many new ingredients I could sneak in without him realizing it. With you it was the combination of carbs and protein that would get you out of bed the quickest.”
“Two pancakes and four eggs,” his father murmured, taking a long drink of the iced tea sitting on the coffee table.
“Plus bacon if we could afford it.” Ben smiled at the memory. Despite what his dad thought, cooking had been one of his happiest times as a kid. In the kitchen, he was in control, and he could help his dad and brother in a way that seemed impossible otherwise.
“You took care of us,” Harry said, his voice taking on a wistful tone, “even though that was my job.”
“Don’t make me into a hero, old man.” Pressure built behind his eyes, pulsing and scratchy. “You know that’s far from the truth.”
“I understand why you hide behind your temper. I did the same thing for years, all through the troubles your mom and I had and for a long time after. But Chloe is not your mother and you’re not me. She’s someone you could trust. A woman worthy of your love.”
Ben let out a harsh laugh. “I don’t think the issue is her worthiness. The lack lies with me, as it always has.”
“You came home when those kids needed you, and in just a few weeks you’ve changed their lives.”
“I came home because I owe Cory, and Abby and Zach would have been fine without me. You’ve cleaned up, Dad. I’m not the only one who deserves some credit.”
Harry shrugged. “All I’m saying is don’t throw away a chance at something good because you think you might fail.”
“What if I think I might hurt her?”
“You won’t, Ben. Not like you’re talking about. You aren’t me.” Harry reached out a hand and patted Ben gruffly on the back. It was the closest the old man had come to a hug in years. Ben was shocked to find it made his throat thicken.
“This is from your brother.” Harry stood and pulled a folded piece of notepaper out of his back pocket, dropping it into Ben’s lap. “Do me a favor and read it before you make any decisions.”
As his dad walked out of the room, Ben stared at the piece of paper for several minutes. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find, but somehow he knew this note was about to change everything for him.
With shaking hands that he was glad no one was around to see, he opened the note and began to read his brother’s scrawly handwriting.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chloe fingered the delicate heart pendant at her throat as she stood before her four employees, who were gathered around the back counter of the toy store later that week. “Thank you for coming in today and for the extra work and hours each of you has been putting in at the store to increase our sales numbers. What you all have done here in the past month has been nothing short of amazing. Our sales are up almost forty percent, the morning and weekend workshops and classes have waiting lists, and the online sales continue to grow.”
Sally and Laura patted each other on the back.
Chloe made eye contact with Tamara, who gave her a sympathetic nod. “Unfortunately,” Chloe continued, “despite all that work, it hasn’t been enough—”
“Then why did you close the store this weekend?” Sally asked without waiting for Chloe to finish her sentence.
“Girl, you know the answer to that.” Tamara stepped forward, pointing to her face. “Thanks to Jimmy, I got a swollen nose, two shiners to go with it, and a permanent restraining order. Chloe ended up with a big mess on her hands.”
Chloe held up a hand. “The truth is I needed a little time to regroup. We’re extremely lucky Tamara wasn’t hurt worse last week, but it made me reevaluate the toy store’s mission. I know each of you has been dedicated to The Toy Chest, and I appreciate that.”
“It’s because of you,” Laura said quietly, but everyone turned to look at her. It was unheard of for the reticent woman to voluntarily speak at one of their meetings. “You’ve given us back our confidence, and in some cases, a new start for our lives.”
“It’s true,” Sally added. “Do you all remember Marsha, who left just after I came? She’s a manager at Macy’s now. In charge of the whole perfume counter.”
There was a round of aahs from the women. Chloe felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. Yes, this was what she’d set out to do with the toy store, but in a different way. She’d wanted to change her own life, and she had. But not how she’d expected—her change had come from helping these women, from learning that she still had something to give.
“I appreciate—” she began then heard an insistent knocking on the front door and recognized Gloria Rees, her contact from the property management company, waving her hands to get Chloe’s attention. Chloe grabbed the key from the counter and unlocked the door, opening it just enough to peek out. “Can you give me a few minutes?” she whispered. “I’m telling everyone now.”
“Don’t.” Gloria flashed a bright smile. “Ben Haddox is renewing your lease. I’ve got the paperwork right here. He’s also lowered the rent back to where it was when Stan owned the building. The store is safe, Chloe.”
A chorus of cheers went up behind her, and she whirled around. Gloria pushed open the door to give her a hug and her employees lined up to follow suit.
“This can’t be happening,” she muttered, turning to Tamara, who’d come to stand at her side. “It’s more than just the money. I promised Abby I’d make this right. Ben’s brother went crazy when he found out the kids were helping me. Ben has to shut us down.”
“No way, honey.” Tamara smiled. “You went up against the Beast, and you took him down. This is the best news ever.”
“I’ll email the new lease agreement to you as soon as I get to the office. We’ll have a contract locked in by this afternoon.” The realtor gave her another small hug. “Enjoy your celebration, Chloe. You’ve earned it.”
But she hadn’t earned anything. Right now, she felt like she’d stolen the happiness of an innocent girl. Abby was so insecure about her place in the Haddox family. If Cory blamed her for helping Chloe to turn around sales, it could destroy the girl’s fragile self-confidence. Chloe knew what could happen when you stopped believing in yourself. There was a good chance Abby would bury her talent and throw away her future just to prove to Zach, Cory, Ben, and Harry that family was more important than anything else.
Chloe couldn’t let that
happen.
She made her way back to the register where Karen stood, a wide smile on her suntanned face.
“Can you open for me today?”
“This is good news, right?” The older woman’s soft eyes were concerned. “It’s what you wanted?”
Chloe shook her head. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know at this point, but I need to make sure Abby and Zach are ok and figure out why Ben is renewing the lease.”
“Sometimes we get the thing we wanted all along, only to realize it wasn’t what we needed the most.”
“I don’t . . . this isn’t . . .”
“You’ve done so much for all of us,” Karen said gently. “It’s ok to want something more for yourself now.”
She hugged the older woman, grateful for someone to say the words out loud. “I’ve got to go.” Without looking back, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
She hesitated at the front door of the Haddox house a few minutes later, her hand poised to knock. Maybe she should have called first. Maybe Ben didn’t want to see her. Of course he didn’t, not after the things he’d said to her. Whatever his reasons for pulling the offer on the building, they probably had nothing to do with her. It was silly for her to think otherwise.
But she couldn’t walk away. Not now that she was here, so close to looking into his stormy blue eyes again. She wanted . . . no, she needed to know that he hadn’t compromised his promise to his brother for her. She had to know that Abby was ok. That’s all this was.
Yeah, right, a voice that sounded a lot like Sam’s said in her head.
The truth was she missed Ben with every breath she took. As much as it would hurt, she had to do this. Before she could knock, the door swung open.
“How long are you planning on standing there?” Harry asked. He took a drink of his iced tea, watching her over the rim with the same blue eyes as Ben’s.
“Long enough to get over being a wimp,” she admitted on a harsh breath.
That earned a snort. “You’re quiet but not a wimp. I’ve never seen a woman handle my bull of a son the way you do.”
“Did,” Chloe muttered. “The way I did.”
“You still have some stuff to learn.” He motioned her into the house but didn’t wait to see if she followed, just turned on his heel and stalked down the narrow hallway. “I got my hands full today, girlie. Could use some help.”
“Is Ben here?” She waited a few beats but when Harry didn’t turn back around, she followed him toward the kitchen. The counter was filled with boxes and bags of varying sizes, all of it junk food, from what Chloe could see. There were Pop-Tarts, powdered donuts, at least four different kinds of chips, sugary cereal, bags of licorice, and cookies.
It was a kid’s grocery dream come true, but Zach sat at the kitchen table, his hands folded over his thin chest while Abby held out a plate to him. “You love frozen waffles with Cool Whip,” she said, a pleading note to her voice. “You have to eat something, Zach. Anything.”
Harry whipped around to Chloe. “Hell, no, Ben’s not here.” He pointed at Zach. “If he were I wouldn’t need fifty pounds of that crap just to coax my grandson into taking one bite.”
Abby looked up, her distressed gaze settling on Chloe. She dropped the whipped cream container on the table and came forward. Chloe braced herself for whatever Abby had in mind, whether it was a sucker punch or a shin kick, understanding the girl’s anger and willing to be an outlet for it. Instead, Abby threw her arms around Chloe’s waist and pressed her face into the crook of Chloe’s neck, sobbing loudly. Zach didn’t move, but his anxious gaze nearly broke her heart.
Harry cursed and lifted his hands to his ears, as if he couldn’t stand to hear any more crying. Chloe shot him a dirty look then stroked her fingers along Abby’s back as she gave Zach a hopeful smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll make this right. I promise.”
“Y-you can’t.” Abby’s voice was hoarse but clear.
“I can. I’ll close The Toy Chest, and I’ll make sure Cory and Ben know you convinced me to do it.”
Abby sniffed, pulling back to look at Chloe. “Why would you close the store?”
Chloe glanced from Abby to Harry then to Zach, who’d turned to watch the scene.
“Because that’s what Cory wants, and Ben made him a promise. It represents something to this family, and I get that. You all are more important to me than anything else.”
Fresh tears welled in Abby’s eyes and she hugged Chloe again.
“Dad is fine with the shop,” Zach said from the table, pushing away the plate that held a rather sorry-looking waffle.
“Eat that,” Harry shouted, pointing a finger at Zach before switching his attention to Chloe. “Cory had no right to make Ben promise what he did. The kids and I went down there and straightened him out. He understands that your store isn’t to blame for his problems and also how much you’ve helped Abby and Zach this summer. He sent a note back for Ben, releasing him from that ridiculous vendetta.”
Chloe held on tighter to the girl in her arms. “Then why . . .”
“Ben’s gone,” Abby said on a sniff. “He’s not coming back, Chloe. He left.”
Disappointment settled in Chloe’s stomach. “Gone where?”
“Vegas.” Harry spit out the two syllables like they were acid on his tongue.
“Why?” The word slipped out on a hiss of breath.
“To open a fancy restaurant.” Harry shook his head. “The big lug thinks that everything that’s happened, from the online photo that led to the attack at your store to Cory flipping out, is his fault. He’s scared to pieces that he can’t control his temper and will hurt someone. He thinks the only place he’s safe is in a kitchen where he can channel his anger.”
“That’s not why he cooks,” Chloe whispered. “Food is love for him. It’s why the show has been so hard. He needs to be cooking the kind of food he wants to for people he cares about. If he takes another contract to develop a menu that isn’t his passion, it’s going to kill him.”
Harry let out a breath as if he was relieved she understood.
“He says we’re better off without him,” Zach said, biting down on his bottom lip.
“We’re not,” Abby said, sounding a little desperate. “Chloe—”
“I know.” Chloe smoothed the hair back from the girl’s face. “You need him. We all need him.”
As she said the words, she realized how true they were. Ben was a larger-than-life presence, and while his temper was maddening, she understood now that it wasn’t scary the way her ex-husband’s anger had been. Ben was all bluster, hard and tough on the outside, but that rough shell was only a shield to hide his soft underbelly. He had a protective streak a mile long and had spent his life trying to take care of everyone in his life. She felt safe with him, not just physically, but emotionally, and even when he lashed out, she knew it was more about his own fear of failing his family than anything else.
She’d wanted a love that was easy and calm, but that wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was Ben.
“I’ve got to stop him,” she muttered, only realizing she’d said the words out loud when Harry, Abby, and Zach all started to move at once.
“I’ll book the tickets on my laptop,” Abby said. “Harry, you’ve still got the credit card Ben left?”
The older man pulled a piece of plastic out of his back pocket. “First class, Abs. Ben owes us for trying to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life.”
The girl flashed a cheeky grin. “First class all the way.”
“I’m going to grab my iPad from my bedroom.” Zach sprinted up the stairs.
Harry pointed at Chloe. “I’ll drive to DIA. You have your driver’s license on you?”
“In my purse. But we can’t—”
“We can and we are,” Harry interrupted. “He needs us right now as much as we need him.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you with us or not, girlie?”
Abby’s fingers stilled on the laptop’s keyboard
as she glanced at Chloe.
Zach came charging back down the stairs. “Come on,” he yelled, grabbing the waffle from the plate on the table and shoving it into his mouth. “We need to rescue Uncle Ben.”
Chloe swallowed, squeezed her fingers into a fist, and pressed it to her chest to try to stem the tide of her heart racing. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “We’re in this together.”
His head pounding from two days of meetings, tours, more meetings, and a dinner at one of James Wyatt’s other Las Vegas hot spots, Ben rattled the ice in his water glass and took a long drink. “No.”
Four men stared at him from around the large conference table inside Wyatt’s plush offices.
“Breathe, Michael,” he said to his publicist, who sat rigidly still beside him. “This isn’t the end of the world.”
Suddenly the stout, portly man at the end of the table jumped up, pounding his open palm on the polished mahogany. “It’s the end of your world, you cocky prick.” James Wyatt was as well known for his outbursts as he was for his world-class restaurants. He and Ben had that in common. “Is this some kind of a fucking joke? Some sadistic mind trick cooked up by the producers of that crock-of-shit show of yours?”
“It’s no joke, James.”
Another string of expletives erupted from the restaurant mogul’s mouth, so colorful and inventive that Ben thought he should take notes.
“I’m sorry.” The words felt rusty in Ben’s mouth, but he found he meant them. His temper, always simmering just under the surface, was shockingly passive. For the first time in years, he felt peaceful. Well, not in years. He’d been at peace with Chloe wrapped in his arms. She’d changed not only his life, but also his heart. This time in Las Vegas had showed him that he couldn’t go back again. He didn’t want to go back again. He wanted to move forward, with his family and with the woman he loved.
He wanted to be a man who deserved her love, but first he had to get back to her.
“You string me along for weeks then refuse to sign? I’m going to open this restaurant without you and fucking have your balls as the nightly special.”
Recipe for Kisses Page 23
