Just A Little Taste (Moments in Maplesville)

by Farrah Rochon

  Dammit. Trey ran a hand down his face and released a heavy breath. This wasn’t the conversation he thought he would be having with Kiera just twenty-four hours after they’d reconnected. He knew his marriage would eventually come up, but already?

  He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “The one thing I don’t want to do right now is recount every shitty part of my past,” Trey said. “I’m not proud of the person I used to be. I was a bastard of a husband, and while I did work my ass off providing for my family, I wasn’t there for them. Not the way I should have been. But I’m trying to change.” He pointed to the Bluebird. “Those two kids in there mean everything to me. Every single thing I do these days is to help me become a better father for them.”

  “And how’s that going?” she asked.

  He hunched his shoulders. “I’m a work in progress.”

  Her eyes softened and a gentle smile touched her lips. “You’re a grown-up,” she said. “Trey Watson, a responsible adult. Who would have ever imagined such a thing was possible?”

  “I’m no Boy Scout, Kiera.”

  “You were never a Boy Scout. Even if some scout leader was foolish enough to let you join, he would have kicked you out the minute you pulled out the cigarettes and dice.”

  That wrung a laugh from him. “I haven’t smoked a cigarette in years, either. As for the dice, well, a guy is entitled to a bit of fun every now and then, right?”

  She laughed, the sound floating on the air, wrapping itself around him and warming his skin. He’d missed that laugh more than he realized. He couldn’t put into words how good it felt to have her in his life again, even if it was in a strictly professional capacity.

  For now.

  She continued to stare at him with that subtle hint of humor lighting her eyes. It reminded Trey of the times when they were together, when she would tease him while they were out in public by sending him secret little smiles and whispering naughty things in his ear to get him riled up. Her plan usually backfired. She would make herself just as hot for him; forcing them to find a hidden place where they would attack each other like mad.

  The chemistry between them had been combustible.

  As he stared into her eyes, Trey could feel it pulsing around them, stirring up feelings that had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface.

  He reached for her, but she stepped away. Again.

  Dammit.

  “So,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if this were North Dakota in February instead of Louisiana in August. “About that estimate?”

  “Yeah,” Trey let out. That’s why they were here, wasn’t it?

  He walked over to his pick-up and grabbed the estimate from where he’d tucked it when he thought he was meeting her at the food truck. Trey motioned for her to have a seat at the picnic table, then walked her through the estimate.

  Kiera pointed to the column for labor cost. “This seems well below what’s considered standard.”

  “It’s the friends and family discount,” Trey said.

  Her eyes snapped to his. “I don’t want you doing me any favors, Trey.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because favors tend to come with strings attached.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “That’s just one part of it,” she said, cutting him off. “Look, Trey, I want to do this on my own. I need to do this on my own. For once in my life I need to know that I made something happen, without someone else coming to my rescue.”

  Trey put both hands up. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll revise my labor cost. That’ll add another twenty percent to the bottom line. Is that doable?”

  She stared at the printout for several moments before she slowly nodded. She looked up at him and her eyes were once again sparkling.

  “Yes,” she said, awe coloring her voice. “That’s doable. This is going to happen. Kiera’s Kickin’ Kajun will be a reality.”

  The joy on her face was infectious.

  “Congratulations,” Trey said.

  His gaze dipped to her lips, which she nervously wetted with a swipe of her tongue. It made them glisten once again and, this time, there was not a damn thing on the face of the planet that could stop Trey from tasting them.

  “Daddy?”

  Except for that.

  Trey’s eyes shut briefly before he turned to the Bluebird, where Rachel was hanging out the open door.

  “What is it, Rach?”

  “RJ is keeping the remote from me and it’s my turn to watch TV.”

  Trey kneaded the bridge of his nose. He looked over at Kiera and grimaced. “Did I mention that raising kids isn’t necessarily the easiest job in the world?”

  Kiera folded her arms over her chest and grinned. “I want to see how you’re going to tackle this one, Daddy.”

  He let out a groan. “You know when you say the word daddy it has an entirely different meaning, right?”

  She leveled him the censorious look that statement deserved, but ruined it by bursting out laughing. She was so beautiful when she laughed. It lit up her entire face.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you again, Slim.”

  Her eyes still sparkling with her smile, she said in a soft voice, “I never thought I’d ever say this, but it’s good to see you, too, Trey.”

  The door opened again.

  “Daddy!” Rachel yelled.

  “In a minute,” Trey called. “I guess I need to handle this.” He tipped his head toward the bus. “You want to come in for a minute?”

  A shadow passed over Kiera’s face before she bolted up from the picnic table. “No.” She shook her head. “I should go.” She grabbed the estimate and started for her car. She tossed a look over her shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything before you get started on the truck.”

  Trey stared at her SUV as she executed a quick three-point turn and took off, the back tires kicking up dust as she sprinted away.

  Chapter Four

  Trey wedged the blade of the tile scraper between the scuffed vinyl tile and the subfloor of the truck. He didn’t know what kind of adhesive they’d used to lay the tile, but he could glue Humpty Dumpty back together again with this shit. He had to put all of his weight behind every shove.

  When working a job he always built in a little extra time for snafus, but Trey tried to save that for last minute issues that tended to pop up. He was only five days into this renovation and these stubborn floor tiles were already eating away any padding he’d added to his schedule.

  What had Kiera been thinking, buying such a heap of junk? And what unscrupulous bastard had pocketed twenty grand for this?

  More than once since he’d begun stripping out the truck’s interior he’d had to stop himself from asking Kiera for a name. He didn’t like the idea of anyone being taken for a ride, but the thought of someone taking advantage of Kiera?

  His fingers flexed around the handle of the scraper.

  Anger fueled him through another four square feet of tile removal. He gathered the loose tiles and tossed them into the bed of his truck. He’d dump them at the old scrapyard on his way home.

  Trey was well into his work groove when an unexpected find stopped him dead in his tracks. He lifted up a bit more of the tile and encountered the ground, littered with maple leaves and pine needles, below.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  This was way more than just a snafu.

  Trey jumped into his truck, driving first to the dumpster to unload the broken tiles before heading to Kiera’s. As he drove east toward the side of town where her catering company was located, he scarfed down the lunch he’d packed that morning.

  Trey veered off the exit his navigation system instructed him to take, then did a couple of right and left turns before the corrugated building with the Catering by Kiera sign came into view. The surge of pride that filled his chest expanded even more when he pulled up alongside the building and saw just how big it was. It wasn’t just that she’d managed to accompl
ish something of this magnitude; he was proud that she’d found the courage to take it on at all.

  He still remembered the argument they’d had when she’d told him she was going to the University of New Orleans instead of culinary school. Trey had instantly suspected that her brother had been the driving force behind her decision. Mason had hounded her about getting a traditional four-year degree, because it’s what their father would have wanted.

  Only an asshole would use a girl’s dead dad to try to control her.

  Maplesville wasn’t that big of a town, but Trey would do his best to avoid running into Mason Coleman while he was here. He and Mason had gone through twelve years of school together without incident, but all that had changed once Trey started dating the guy’s baby sister. Trey automatically became Enemy Number One. And one surefire way not to land himself back in Kiera’s good graces was to get into a confrontation with her brother.

  The minute he entered Kiera’s building Trey was bombarded with a barrage of aromas that made his stomach growl. The small lobby was empty, so he ventured further, going through a door that led to a large, open kitchen.

  A woman with bright blue hair greeted him. “Hey there. Nice tat,” she said, nodding toward his arm.

  Trey nodded back. “Nothing compared to those full sleeves of yours. Great ink. I’m Trey, by the way, the guy renovating Kiera’s food truck.”

  “Macy.” She ground the palm of her flour-covered hand into a mound of dough.

  “This place smells phenomenal. What are you making?”

  “Brioche. It’s for our homemade bread pudding. But it’s probably the Turducken you smell: turkey, stuffed with duck, that’s stuffed with chicken. We served it at the city council meeting last week and it was a huge hit, so now it’s what everyone around here wants.”

  “I can see why. Make that smell why.”

  “Stick around for the cornbread and pork sausage dressing that’s also stuffed inside of it. That’s when you’ll smell phenomenal. One of Kiera’s specialties.”

  “Is she around?”

  Macy motioned her head again. “Through the swing doors. You can’t miss her.”

  Trey walked through the swinging doors and found Kiera hunched over a platter. She looked up at him, her forehead creasing with her frown. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hopefully, I’m sampling some of that food.”

  A hint of a smile tipped up her lips. “You stopped in the middle of working on my truck and drove all the way across town just to beg for food? Did we not discuss the time crunch we’re under?”

  “Yeah, but I ran into an issue with the truck, one that needed addressing right away.”

  The frown returned. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a part of the floor that’s completely rotted out,” Trey answered.

  Her eyes slid closed. She brought both hands up and started rubbing her temples. “I don’t need this kind of headache.”

  “Nobody needs this kind of headache, Slim, but shit happens. When tackling a project this big, nine times out of ten you’re going to encounter something you weren’t planning for.”

  “The truck itself was supposed to be my ‘Shit Happens’ moment.”

  He grinned. “Sometimes, if you’re really special, you get to have more than one.”

  “Don’t laugh at me, Trey.”

  “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “You’re not laughing with me, because I’m not laughing.”

  He swallowed the laugh that tried to escape and put both hands on her shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Slim. As far as setbacks go, this one isn’t all that bad.”

  “Except that this month’s budget has absolutely no room for a new floor for that money pit of a truck,” she said. “What am I looking at, time- and money-wise?”

  “Believe it or not, this may be a blessing in disguise. Instead of spending so much time trying to lift up those tiles, I can just take a sledgehammer to the floor. See, sometimes when shit happens, it turns out to be a good thing.”

  She blew out an aggravated sigh. The annoyed look she shot his way wrestled another chuckle from him.

  “What about the cost?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about that right now.”

  “I need to know if I can afford this, or if I’ll have to hold off on getting the truck renovated.”

  Trey shook his head. “That’s not the way I operate. Once I start a job, I don’t stop until it’s complete. This truck will get done, even if you have to pay the balance off in installments. My clients do that all the time.”

  “I’ll feel better if you can give me a ballpark estimate,” she said. “I’d rather have the renovation paid in full at the end of the month, but if it does turn out that I need to pay it off in installments, I want to know how much I have to budget.”

  Damn, she was stubborn. Stubborn and sexy-as-hell. Especially with that smudge of flour dusting her cheek.

  “It’ll be another eight-hundred,” Trey said, throwing out the first number that came to his head. He figured anything under a thousand wouldn’t be enough to force her to halt work on the truck.

  Honestly, he didn’t know how much the materials for the new flooring would cost, but Trey had already decided that he would absorb the cost. He would also find a way to cut the eight hundred dollars from the final cost of the renovation. This job wasn’t about making money; it was about making Kiera’s dreams come true.

  He shouldn’t have even bothered telling her about the floor, but he’d wanted an excuse to see her. It had been several days since he’d seen her, and even then it was only for a quick meeting to go over the blueprints he’d drawn up.

  “I can handle eight hundred,” Kiera said.

  “Good. Now that we’ve taken care of that, how about serving me up a plate of whatever it is you’re fixing over there? It’s been a while since I’ve been your guinea pig.”

  Her mouth twitched with a grin as she walked around to the other side of the stainless steel table and picked up one of the narrow, rectangular plates.

  “This is what I’m entering into the Louisiana Shrimp Festival’s Cook-Off. The submission is due by five o’clock today. I’ve got three samples, each with subtle adjustments to the recipe. Let me know which one you like the best.” She handed him a glass. “Sip this between each sample to cleanse your palate.”

  Trey tested each sample, then pointed to the middle portion. “I like this one the best. It has just a hint of lemon, right? The acid is a nice compliment to the shrimp.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “What?” he asked. “I like to watch the occasional cooking show. You absorb a few things.”

  “Trey Watson, you couldn’t boil an egg back when I knew you.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well, bachelorhood will force you to do some scary things, like cooking. Fast food every night gets expensive.” Inspiration struck him like a slap behind the head. He immediately jumped on the idea. “Maybe I should cook for you some time.”

  Her expression turned wary. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Sure it is.” He rounded the table and came to stand in front of her. “Come on. Let me make up for all those times you used to steal your mom’s car to bring me a hot meal when I was working at Decker’s.”

  “I never stole my mother’s car,” Kiera said, taking a step back. “I would borrow it.”

  “Without permission,” Trey added, closing the distance between them again. “In most parts of the world they call that stealing.”

  “You would know,” she said with a nervous chuckle, backing up until she butted against the stainless steel table.

  Slowly shaking his head, Trey braced his palms flat on the table on either side of her, hemming her in. He stared into her eyes and allowed all the need that had been building over the past five days, since the moment they nearly kissed outside his house, to shine through.

  His voice rough with want, Trey said, “You know damn well I never too
k anything that wasn’t freely given to me, Slim.”

  ***

  Kiera’s eyes dropped to his mouth as her own lips parted slightly. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, the sensation causing need to pool deep in her belly.

  Trey edged forward and traced his mouth lightly along her jawline. “I dare you to deny it,” he murmured against her skin.

  “I…I can’t,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

  “I know you can’t,” he breathed. “Because, back then, there was nothing you used to love more than giving it to me.”

  He skimmed a path from her ear, down her cheek, to the edge of her lips. His feather light touch teased her sensitive nerve-endings, triggering a deluge of tingles to cascade along her skin. He brought his hand up and captured her head, slipping his fingers into her hair and gently turning her face to him. As he closed in on her mouth, a blend of remembered longing and deep carnal need swirled inside of her.

  This was Trey. Her Trey.

  The first man she’d truly loved, the only man she’d truly loved. She’d ached with yearning for him for so long; hoping, wishing, praying that one day, by some miracle, she would taste his lips again.

  The moment she did, everything else in her world ceased to exist.

  He was everything. All that she wanted. All she ever needed.

  The thought both scared her and excited her. Kiera knew the danger of falling under his spell again, but right now, she didn’t care. Right now, all she wanted to do was experience Trey. The taste, the texture, everything about his kiss brought her back to a time when the man holding her in his arms was hers and hers alone.

  Whatever morsel of resistance that dared to remain was abandoned when Trey finally laid full claim to her, pushing past the seam of her lips and finding his way inside. His warm, soft tongue brushed across hers before he sucked it inside of his mouth.

  God, he tasted just as she remembered, sweet and spicy and deliciously intoxicating.

  Her hands came around him and traveled up his back, to his head. Kiera held him there, crushing him to her. There was something instinctual about needing to feel him wedged between her thighs, a primal impulse that demanded it. Her legs parted and she pulled him against her. The second Trey positioned his body flush against hers, instinct took over.