Just Add Spice (The Spice Series Book 1)

by Calista Fox

  He stood and paced the large kitchen. Mere seconds later, he drew up short and muttered, “Shit.” He planted his hands on the kitchen island and dropped his head.

  “Tesoro mio,” Vesta scolded.

  Rafe lifted his head. Ignoring the reprimand, he said, “Even when Jenna was traveling and working so much those first two years, we were still always connected. I missed her, yes. And I wanted her with me. But I talked to her every day and…she was still mine.”

  Vesta gazed at him with notable concern.

  Rafe said, “I thought about this previously, but I didn’t have the chance to delve too deep. I suppose it’s time I do… It wasn’t until after I filed for divorce that things truly fell apart for us and we stopped talking every day. A couple of months slipped by, neither one of us attempting to reach the other. It was only when I couldn’t take the separation any longer that I called her for the first time since she’d signed the papers. We went on and on about everything under the sun. Then realized we’d been on the phone for two or three hours and finally hung up. We’ve repeated that every two or three weeks from that day forward.”

  Naturally, Rafe would spend days afterward with a rock in his gut and a sharp pain in his chest—missing her like hell.

  His heart sank now as he faced a very disturbing and disconcerting truth.

  “I did this to us.”

  “Oh, tesoro mio.” His aunt’s hand covered his.

  Rafe groaned. “Maybe she wasn’t around a lot those first two years, but we were still together. And she did have a home, even if she wasn’t accustomed to thinking of the loft and the restaurant and the family in those terms. What if—”

  He blew out a long breath.

  “Yes?” Vesta prompted, likely already drawing the conclusion he was so loathe to admit.

  “What if she just needed more time? And I didn’t wait long enough for her to come around? I wanted a traditional wife. Yet I knew from the moment I met her that she never would be. And the most contradictory and conflicting thing about that is…I really don’t want a traditional wife. I want Jenna.”

  “Well now.” Vesta patted his hand. “I think you’ve finally learned your lesson, tesoro mio.”

  * * *

  “You’ve been staring at that wall for forty-five minutes,” Tad told Jenna. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

  She sighed. “It’s really a pretty, quaint shade of yellow. Makes me think of a Nantucket cottage with lots of crisp-white wainscoting surrounding it and wide molding. Maple floors. Ceiling fans. The sound of water lapping along the shoreline, beyond opened windows.”

  “Nice visual, sugar plum, but this is an Italian restaurant in San Francisco.”

  Jenna snapped out of her reverie and glanced at Tad over her shoulder. “Do you realize I’ve never used a term of endearment once? Not ever?”

  His eyes narrowed on her. “What made you think of that?”

  “Everyone uses them on me. You, Rafe, Vesta. Even Mags.” Jenna cringed. “Jesus. I haven’t been to see her. Rafe’s right. And she’s probably sore about it.”

  Rafe’s younger cousin had been a fan of Jenna’s do-it-yourself remodeling section of her website long before she’d met Rafe and married him. Long before she’d been offered her own show.

  Mags had been in awe of Jenna from the beginning, and perhaps that was why they’d hit it off—not because Mags had been star-struck, per se, but because Jenna’s notoriety and Mags’ shock over meeting her idol had brought on a bout of timidity on Mags’ part.

  She hadn’t overwhelmed Jenna at all. Rather, Mags had been very tentative about approaching her and had been less invasive than the rest of the family, not wanting Jenna to think she was an annoying fan.

  Jenna laughed suddenly. She didn’t have annoying fans. She had followers who felt as though they knew her well enough to send her emails or post comments on her blogs, asking for a DIY solution to this problem or that one.

  Jenna’s legion of specialists contributed as well, offering advice on electrical, plumbing, architectural topics and the like that exceeded Jenna’s expertise. She’d built a community that transcended the Internet. And had been thrilled when she’d learned Mags, a regular and familiar follower from the time Jenna’s web presence was in its infancy, was a part of Rafe’s family. A very happy coincidence.

  Consulting his watch, Tad said, “The lunch crowd doesn’t start for another hour—that should give you a decent break for a visit. I can take over being front-of-house manager if you need longer than that.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she stood. “But the bakery is on the Wharf, just blocks from here, so I’ll be back before we open the doors.”

  She grabbed the keys to the rental and headed out. Beach Street wasn’t far away and she parked in a public lot by Ghirardelli Square. It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny. High sixties. Jenna had dressed in a black sweater minidress and leather pumps for the autumn weather and found the temperature to be just right. She’d always enjoyed the sultry ambience and seductive personality of the city. Particularly this time of year, when it took a bit longer for the fog to burn off in the morning, and it ribboned through the buildings and hovered over the bay earlier in the evenings.

  Walking into the small bakery owned by Vesta’s and Zelda’s families, Jenna inhaled the delicious scent of fresh bread and marveled over the numerous varieties of scones, muffins and Italian pastries displayed in pristine glass-and-wood cases. Biscotti, bocconotto, pasticiotto… Oh, my! Rum cakes and her personal favorite, taralli. The hot, peppery type made her mouth water as much as the crème puffs and the chocolate chip-filled cannolis.

  One would not guess she’d had breakfast this morning. And she certainly wouldn’t be leaving without a boxful of treats.

  She moved farther into the shop and caught the eye of the cashier. Bethany Sampogna, Vesta’s daughter and Mags’ younger sister—falling in between Mags and Marco—let out a squeal of delight. She called, “Mags, come quick!”

  Jenna beamed at Bethany’s exuberance. She was a beautiful girl—woman, Jenna mentally corrected, reminding herself Bethany had turned twenty-one this year.

  “I can only come so quickly,” Mags said as she rounded the corner. “’Course my stomach will reach you ten minutes before the rest of me catches up to—Oh!”

  A very pregnant Margaret Sampogna drew up short and pressed her hands to her mouth. Tears instantly sprang to her light-blue eyes. Taking her hands away, she said, “You came to see me.”

  Jenna felt a hot flash of tears as well. “Of course I came to see you. Both of you. I’m just so sorry it took a few days.”

  Mags fanned her suddenly flushed face as fat drops tumbled down her rosy cheeks. “You’re busy helping Rafe. That’s so sweet of you, J.” That was how Jenna always signed off on her blog posts.

  Jenna let Bethany hug her before rushing off to help customers, then Jenna crossed to where Mags still stood, looking stunned Jenna had made the effort to seek her out. That thought did not sit well with Jenna.

  She took Mags small hands in hers and gingerly kissed her on both cheeks. Then she spread Mags’ arms wide and eyed her belly. “My, oh, my. You’re about to pop.”

  Mags laughed. “Any day now.”

  “You are so radiant. So beautiful.”

  The younger woman’s eyes sparkled and her thick, blonde hair was lustrous. And she couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m as big as Mom’s house,” she said. “But Geoff can’t keep his hands off me.”

  “He’s one lucky man,” Jenna told her. “And you are going to be a wonderful mother.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot, Jenna. Really. And I still can’t believe you came to see me. I was going to stop by the restaurant, but I figured you had your hands full and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Mags.” Jenna gave her a careful hug as emotion swelled in her throat. “You’re one of my favorite people. I always have time for you. And I’ve missed you.”

  Mags hugged he
r back, much stronger than Jenna expected given her slight build and delicate condition. Then again, Mags came from a family strong of will, conviction and heart.

  “Can we sit for a few minutes?” Jenna asked.

  “Of course. Beth has everything under control. As usual. She’s going to run the bakery while I’m on maternity leave. Pete and Dina’s twins are going to help as well, since the girls took a semester off and won’t be starting at the community college until spring. And Connie and John still work in the back, though they’re both gone for the day—you know they come in around two a.m.”

  “I’m sorry I missed them.”

  They settled at a table by a window and chatted endlessly about the baby. Another girl for the Sampognas. It was Mags who finally glanced at the clock over the counter and said, “It’s eleven. The restaurant opens.”

  “Right.” Jenna had been enjoying herself too much to take note of the time slipping by. She stood. Bethany was already boxing up some goodies for her to take. “I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Mags said. “I’m so happy to see you. And Mom called earlier about throwing a big party for Marco before he leaves, so I’ll see you again, right?”

  Jenna forced herself not to tense up at the prospect of a Sampogna family gathering. All those people…

  Mags unexpectedly reached for one of Jenna’s hands and placed it on her swollen belly. “This kid is a kicker. She’s going to keep me on my toes, for sure.”

  Jenna felt the tapping against her hand and the sensation shocked and amazed her. “Wow, Mags. There’s a little person inside you.” A dumb thing to say, she thought, but when the tears stung her eyes and she gazed at her friend, Jenna knew Mags understood her astonishment.

  “Maybe someday you and Rafe…” She smiled softly. “You never know.”

  Then she released Jenna’s hand and Jenna helped her to her feet. “You really do look sensational.”

  Mags beamed. “I’m so ecstatic I can hardly stand myself.”

  “That’s the way it should be.” Jenna kissed her on the cheek again. “Well. I’ll see you soon. And don’t you dare have this baby without someone calling me.”

  “You’ll be one of the first to know. Rafe will make sure of it.”

  They said their goodbyes and Jenna returned to the restaurant, with a peculiar churning deep inside her that she couldn’t identify…or reconcile.

  Chapter Ten

  “Standing room only again,” Tad said as he dropped the last of the menus he’d collected from the dinner crowd onto the pile at the hostess stand.

  “It helps that you and I draw a crowd,” Jenna commented. “But once we’re gone… Sampogna’s has to stand on its own two feet.”

  The rest of the diners had cleared out and the staff went about their nightly closing chores.

  Tad asked, “Room service this evening?”

  “I’d love to. But… I need to speak with Rafe.”

  “Alone,” he added coyly. “You naughty little wench.”

  Jenna laughed. “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s business.”

  “Mm-hmm. I so buy that.” His tawny eyes twinkled.

  “Whatever. Hey,” she said, “we haven’t talked about last night. Huge apologies for the disastrous sob-fest.”

  “Sugar plum,” he said as he gently cupped her face with his supple hands, “you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. I feel as though I broke your heart.”

  “It’s not you, Tad. It’s the situation. But I am glad I told you. And you know what? I felt infinitely lighter this morning after the crying jag. I really did need to get that out of my system.”

  He eyed her a moment, then asked, “Does that mean you’ll try to find Linney?”

  Jenna swallowed hard. “No. She doesn’t want contact with me, Tad.”

  “How can you be so sure?” he asked as his hands fell away.

  “Come on,” she said on a sigh. “I’m the easiest person on the planet to reach.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t know you’re famous. Maybe she doesn’t own a TV.”

  Jenna smirked at him.

  “Or a computer. No Internet or smartphone?” He grasped at straws.

  “If she wanted to speak with me, she would have sought me out a long time ago. I have to let it go, Tad. Let her go. She chose not to be my sister anymore.”

  More tears prickled the backs of her eyes, but Jenna held them in check. She couldn’t constantly fall to her knees every time she thought of Linney’s abandonment.

  “Well,” Tad said, glancing over her shoulder. “Mr. Dreamy has come to collect you. I’ll see you tomorrow. We have the first wave of contractors coming in at seven. And Matthew Amos has agreed to build a bar for Gio—he’ll have the sketch for us first thing in the morning.”

  Jenna knew she’d be immersed in a whirlwind of activity. So tonight, she wanted to spend time with Rafe. At the loft.

  He joined her and Tad, and she smiled up at him. “Ready to cook?”

  Tad chuckled. “That’s what you crazy kids are calling it these days?”

  “Stop,” Jenna said with a laugh. “We actually are going to cook this evening. Rafe has new menu ideas, and I get to be the guinea pig.”

  “You have all the fun.”

  She hugged her best friend and said, “I’ll see you in the morning. Enjoy your room service.”

  “And champagne. Anyone who believes it should be saved for a special occasion does not grasp the concept that every day we’re above ground is a special occasion.” He kissed her on the cheek and made his grand exit.

  Jenna watched him go, then said, “The man has a point.”

  “I have a very nice Prosecco I’ll pop the cork on,” Rafe promised. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They stopped at the all-night market and then deposited the groceries on the counter in Rafe’s kitchen. He divested himself of his burgundy dress shirt and handed it to Jenna. He unzipped her dress and helped her out of it—and the heels. She slipped into the shirt, thrilled it smelled like his male heat and cologne.

  He poured the Nino Franco Grave di Stecca sparkling wine as she settled in a comfy barstool at the kitchen island and turned on her iPad.

  Rafe handed her a glass and they clinked rims. “Salute,” they said in unison.

  He took a deep sip, then went to work, whipping up samples of the items he’d mentioned days before that would supplement the antipasto menu, but that weren’t as large in portion as the appetizers. When he set a plate of soft-shell crab in front of her, she nearly melted off her stool.

  “One of my favorites,” she said.

  “I know.” He winked at her.

  After they shared the crab, he moved onto mini-cannelloni and chicken saltimbocca, a rich, creamy Alfredo dish with tender, juicy chicken, portabella mushrooms, cherry tomatoes and prosciutto that was to die for. He also served her prawns Sambuca, flambéed in the Italian liquor and Chardonnay, with a side of angel hair pasta.

  Jenna was euphoric. “I bet if you kissed me right now, I’d come instantly.”

  He gave her the bad-boy smirk she so loved. “As flattering as it is to know my food is orgasmic, I prefer to put a little physical effort into getting you off.”

  “You should probably stop cooking now.”

  Her body was already tingly from the spicy food and the smell of Rafe that lingered on the shirt she wore. Not to mention watching him bare-chested in the kitchen.

  He shut off the burners and double oven and then moved between her parted legs and kissed her. His fingers tangled in her hair as his tongue delved deep.

  Jenna lost all touch with time and space. Rafe’s arms snaked around her waist and he held her to him. She wound her legs around his hips. His erection pressed to her mound and she wiggled in the seat, rubbing herself against him.

  He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom, with her still wrapped around him. He eased them onto the bed, stripped her bare and made love to her. He
never questioned whether she’d spend the night. Jenna never considered leaving.

  * * *

  Sampogna’s was abuzz with activity the next morning. She found Tad in the midst of it all, efficiently coordinating all the details they’d discussed the past two days. With the exception of the nasty fly in the ointment—she still hadn’t selected a color scheme.

  Tad said, “Paul’s got the refinishing of the hardwood floors covered, but if you do wainscoting, he’ll need to make sure the floor complements the wood you choose. Ditto for the bar—the schematic is gorgeous, Jen. The intricate design will take your breath away. And Patty needs direction on color for the walls and the sheer window scarves. Sharon needs to know about linens and—”

  “I know, I know,” she mumbled as she moved past him. “Just do what you can right now without a particular color in mind. I have to show something to Rafe.”

  She pulled her iPad from the envelope clutch she carried. Frustration over having no idea what the hell the décor should look like at Sampogna’s made her crazy. Everything else was going so well! Yet it would all come to a screeching halt if inspiration didn’t strike—soon.

  “Hey,” he said with a sexy grin when she entered the kitchen.

  Jenna drew up short. “Oh.” The breath escaped her on a sharp exhale. She stared up at her ex-husband’s devilishly handsome face. His beautiful blue eyes shimmered with sexual heat. They were actually a shade darker than normal. All smoldering and sensual and rich.

  Downright breathtaking.

  She was briefly blindsided. Rendered speechless. Her chest rose and fell in heavy beats.

  Rafe’s gaze turned curious. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m having a moment…” She waved a hand in the air. “Just let me think.”

  She started to pace. No one interrupted her pattern, just gave her space while she let new thoughts and images flitter through her mind. Endless minutes slipped by.

  Eventually, her discombobulated thoughts collided. Melded. Erupted.