“Look, I’m fifty-three. I don’t…” Trudy began. But Jack nibbling on her mouth scrambled her brain and soon she forgot what she was going to say. His hands slipped behind her and lifted her hips. He pressed his body into hers, murmuring sexy compliments the whole time. By the time he drew back, she could barely stand without him holding her up.
He put his forehead back on hers. “No kissing,” he insisted.
“Jack…”
Sighing, he let go. When she slumped and stumbled, he laughed and caught her. He pulled her away from the wall.
“Fine. Kiss the bastard. See if he can take your knees out from under you. I already know I can. Do you think this happens in every relationship? I know you know it doesn’t or you’d been married by now.”
“Jack…” Trudy said softly. “Tonight is dinner. Tomorrow is a friend. I… I’m no more ready for you now than I was before. This can’t work.”
“Don’t care about that,” Jack said, dragging her down the hall by their linked hands. One lone security guard waited at the entrance to let them out. He handed Trudy her purse that she’d checked. “You’re going to have to deal with me this time… and deal with whatever kept you away from me before. I’m not giving up until I’ve had you, and probably not then either. Consider yourself warned.”
Trudy sighed and let him walk her to her car. His hard, demanding kiss goodbye nearly crumbled her resolve. When he walked away, she realized that she ached in places she hadn’t ached in fifteen years. Whatever the magic was with Jack, she was no closer to understanding it.
Chapter Ten
The band was loud, the dresses were sparkly, and you had to yell to be heard, even at the buffet table. Trudy held her plate in her hand while she scanned the food. Her plate had two lonely cocktail shrimp on it so far. Nothing looked appetizing to her.
Rather than blame the caterers, she decided the stress of yesterday had taken its toll by messing with her stomach. She should have begged off her commitment tonight and stayed home.
Kissing Jack had been nerve wracking, but it was his intense stare that she couldn’t get out of her head.
Her date last night? It had been another bust.
Loren had absolutely been the most handsome man she’d ever gone out with, but it was hard to appreciate his good looks when he stayed bent over his phone nearly the whole time. As Mariah had pointed out, the guys who’d chosen her seemed to want her to put up with their distraction. Beyond pseudo-dating—which is what it had felt like—Loren hadn’t even seemed interested in being real friends. She’d done far better on her own over the years. No offense to Mariah, but the dating service just wasn’t working for her.
Despite Jack’s orders, she would have kissed her date goodnight if she’d wanted. There had been a chance of kissing, but she’d sent Loren home, unkissed and still on his stupid phone. She thought more of herself than to tolerate being ignored.
“No, no. Don’t eat that. It’s octopus or eel or something else vile.”
Trudy laughed at Georgia who was dressed in a stunning backless black dress and three inch black platform heels. Her friend made sixty look good—like really, really good. She patted the soft waist of her own fitted black dress and made a silent commitment to finding time to work out. Ann and Jellica were always on her to do yoga. If she didn’t do something soon, nothing in the red room was going to fit her at all.
“It is not octopus or eel, Georgia. It’s calamari,” Trudy said. “And keep your voice down. The caterers will have ears posted everywhere.”
Georgia wrinkled her nose. “Like I care. Give me pigs in a blanket any day. Damn Hollywood and his strange, snooty tastes.”
“You should be more accepting. Brent’s strange tastes are the only thing that explains his interest in you.” Trudy put some crab salad on her plate. The food was okay, just unimaginative. It was like the caterers were using the event to clear out their freezers.
“I spent two thousand to get in here tonight. Doesn’t that entitle me to real food from the ocean?” a masculine voice asked near Trudy’s shoulder. “Most of this is fake seafood.”
“Try the champagne. It’s definitely top of the line,” Georgia replied dryly, lifting her glass to show him her bubbles. “Then I suggest hitting the cheese and fruit table. The cheese is yummy. The strawberries are fresh. Skip the melon though. They cut it a little green.”
Trudy chuckled at the food advice coming from her pigs-in-a-blanket loving friend. She raised her head from the food and looked at Georgia. “You and cheese. Is that the champagne talking?”
“No, I’m not drunk yet, and you know cheese never disappoints, Chef Baker,” Georgia said, glancing at the man whose gaze kept dropping to Trudy’s backside every time she bent over the table to inspect something she was contemplating eating. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Trudy? He’s been patiently waiting for you to acknowledge his presence behind you.”
“My friend?” Trudy said, barely able to hear her own thoughts over the music. She straightened and turned to the male who’d spoken earlier. “Jack?”
Memories of kissing him and him kissing her flooded her face with instant heat.
He took the plate from her now boneless fingers. “Stop trying. You know you can’t eat that.”
Trudy swallowed. “But I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Me neither,” Jack said. “Let’s get some cheese and champagne to be social. Then I’ll take you out somewhere for a real meal. There’s a really good restaurant nearby. I know the chef. She’s an excellent cook.”
“You better be talking about my restaurant,” Trudy said, fisting a hand on her hip.
“I am, sassy,” Jack said, tugging her fisted hand free. “Let’s go.”
Then he stopped, remembering his manners. He kept Trudy’s fingers linked with his as he looked at what he would bet was Trudy Baker’s friend. He stuck out his other hand. “Hi. I’m Jack Dozen.”
Georgia’s eyebrow arched as she looked at Trudy and down at Jack Dozen’s grip on Trudy’s wrist. She stuck out a hand. “Georgia Bates. I’m dating the guy throwing this shindig, but don’t hold that against me.”
“I won’t. Pleasure to meet you, Georgia.”
“Same here,” Georgia said. “Are you two…?”
She looked between them while Trudy snorted and shook her head.
“Stop fishing, Bates. You know I’m guest chef-ing on Jack’s TV show for a few weeks. Our first taping was two weeks ago…” Trudy stopped and put a hand on her forehead. “Oh, my God, Jellica. I forgot all about her. She had a ticket to that first show. I haven’t seen her. Do you know if she used it?” The question was directed at Georgia who shrugged.
Jack cleared his throat as Trudy pulled her hand free of his. “She came. I spoke to her after you ran off. Nice lady, your friend.”
“Yes, Jellica is very nice. She’s probably about your age too, Chef Dozen,” Georgia said with a grin. “By the way, are you still single?”
“Let’s go get some of that cheese Georgia was bragging about,” Trudy said firmly, picking up Jack’s hand again. “If I don’t eat soon, I’m seriously going to faint.”
Jack grinned at Georgia. “I have to go, Georgia. It was nice meeting you.”
“Same here, Chef Dozen,” Georgia said, smiling as she shooed them off.
“Sorry about that,” Trudy said, when they stopped by the champagne service to collect a couple glasses. “Georgia has no filters. She recently started dating and now seems determined to get all her friends into the same mess.”
Jack handed her a glass of champagne and then tilted his glass out to touch hers. Sighing, Trudy let her glass rest against his as she looked into his dark eyes which seemed even darker tonight because of his charcoal suit. Suddenly Jack having a Chinese grandmother made a lot of sense. Brandon had inherited those dark eyes too.
Now mostly alone with Jack, Trudy couldn’t help noticing how he was dressed. He’d shaved and put a tiny, discreet diamond
stud in his ear. It was mostly covered by his shoulder length black hair which was loose for once instead of tied back for cooking. He was so beautiful tonight that it was hard to look away from him.
“Should we drink to a successful three weeks of our segment?” she asked.
“If you insist. I prefer to drink to the first real peace between us in fifteen years,” Jack said, clinking their glasses together before he took a sip. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect that peace to last. I’m just glad you realized it was Luke who set you up that first day and that it was not something I’d planned.”
Trudy snorted as she sipped. “I still haven’t found our cowardly producer, but Luke has to come back to work sometime. I have spies watching for him now. They’ll let me know.”
“Thanks to your on-air poise that first day ended well. But then you’ve always had that kind of confidence in front of the camera. It was one of the things I most admired about you.”
Trudy mumbled “thank you”, but suddenly couldn’t hold his gaze. She busied herself putting cheese and fruit on a plate. “So how did you get roped into coming tonight? Georgia twisted my arm.”
“Your friend Jellica mentioned you were coming when I saw her after our first show. Since I wanted to see you away from the station, I decided the charitable tax deduction was worth spending the money. That snug-fitting black dress you have on has erased the rest of my reservations about coming. All I can think about is kissing you again. What have you been thinking about?”
Giving herself a little bit of time before answering, Trudy carried her food to a nearby empty pedestal table and put her plate on it. She picked at the cheese, chewing a piece while she pondered Jack’s confession. Her conversation with Brandon came back to haunt her.
She could feel Jack staring at her the whole time she was thinking, but he did eventually put one hand in his pants pocket. It was the only sign he gave of being nervous about her reaction. The younger Jack had been an open book to her, wearing his heart on his sleeve. This more mature one was a bit harder to read but no less tempting.
“You should have saved yourself two grand. I’ve already agreed to doing all twelve shows,” Trudy said.
Jack huffed near her ear. “My pursuit of you is not about the show. This is about what you would not allow to happen all those years ago. For three weeks now, I’ve looked at your painted mouth and wanted to kiss you again just as badly as I did all those years ago. I’ve concluded that I still have a thing for you.”
“A thing?” Trudy repeated, laughing at his description. Damn Georgia and Ann. “That’s just unrequited lust, Jack. You’re a healthy male and I’m the only woman who’s probably ever gotten away. This thing between us is not as real as you think it is. I’m far too old for you to build any dreams around.”
Jack snorted and stepped close enough to whisper. “You can call what I’m feeling anything you want and explain it to yourself any way you like. All I want to know is whether or not you’re going to let me kiss you again. Or are you going to be a coward?”
If she lifted her eyes to his, their mouths would only be a few inches away from each other’s. After yesterday, Trudy had no doubt Jack would take it as an invitation.
She kept her head down as she took a sip of champagne. Jack’s cologne wafted towards her and she had the crazy idea that he smelled like a pirate. He was wearing Bay Rum again, but this time there was the distinct smell of limes.
He chose a cheese cube from her plate and popped it into his mouth. She risked looking at him then and ended up staring at his smooth jaw. Then he picked up another cheese cube from her plate and held it against her lips as an offering. Trudy opened her mouth because she wanted to and let him push the bite inside. His thumb brushed her bottom lip before dropping away.
“That was fun, but not nearly enough to satisfy me,” Jack said quietly. “Let’s go somewhere I can really feed you.”
“That’s not a good idea, Jack. We have to work together. People will gossip about us—about you—about me. I can’t do this—you can’t do this. Be reasonable,” Trudy argued.
“I know being seen together will create some talk and I don’t care,” Jack said gruffly, his voice low. “Spending time with you is what I want. I haven’t had anything I’ve wanted for a very long time. Don’t you want to see what this is? And don’t lie to me.”
She lifted her gaze to his, fully prepared to brush off Jack’s dare, but found the hurtful words—the ones that would be necessary to really discourage him—simply wouldn’t come out of her mouth. What did emerge was the most foolish thing she’d ever said in her life.
“My restaurant is about three blocks away. If they’re not too busy, we could probably borrow the kitchen for a short while. I guess you could try to impress me with your cooking. Notice I said try. I’m not promising anything.”
Trudy swallowed nervously as she waited for a response. God, please let the man understand innuendo.
“After being kicked out of your kitchen all those years ago, impressing Chef Trudy Baker would be the comeback of all time, wouldn’t it?”
“Or it could be a test to see if you’ve actually improved.”
Jack’s bright smile of pleasure caused flutters inside her gut. Trudy put a hand over her tummy to stop them.
“I’ll take my chances,” Jack said, shrugging elegantly inside his jacket.
“Well, don’t read too much into my invitation. My moment of weakness is only an indication of how hungry I am,” Trudy warned.
Jack’s wicked grin said it all, but he just had to add. “Trust me, Chef Baker. I’m just as hungry as you are.”
Chapter Eleven
The kitchen at her restaurant was busy, but she wasn’t worried about finding a space. When she’d remodeled the original building, she’d put a test area off to one side that she could personally use when she felt the need to experiment. The test area had its own stove and oven, plus a gleaming stainless counter, much like the set where Jack’s show was recorded. Only one person could stand in the actual cooking area, so Trudy found a padded stool and parked her tired butt at the prep counter. Her lack of sleep and nourishing food was catching up to her.
Jack smirked at her as he took off his jacket. Staring into her eyes, he made a big production of draping the fabric across her sequined lap. After she giggled at his wandering hand across her bare knee, he walked to the stove and started checking it out. Nodding in approval, he rolled up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt.
“Jack,” Trudy said, gaining his immediate attention. “Grab an apron off the hook by the cabinet. Don’t ruin your clothes.”
“Thanks. Got a hair tie?” he asked.
“I’ve got a hairnet in the office,” she told him, chuckling at the pained look on his face.
“A hairnet?” he repeated.
Trudy took pity on him because she was starving. “I’m kidding, Jack. Leave your hair down. I’m enjoying the scenery.” His deep, masculine chuckle made her smile. Had she ever heard him laugh? “Wow. You should do that more often.”
“What? Admit I’m too proud to wear a hairnet?” Jack asked.
Trudy laughed and pointed to her head. “Do you see the length of my hair? I’m not wearing one of those either.” She liked that she’d made him smile and chuckle yet again. “I was talking about your laugh, Jack. You have a nice laugh. You should laugh more often.”
“So I hear from my family,” Jack said dryly. “My son is the worst. He thinks I’m far too serious.”
Since she wasn’t technically supposed to know about Brandon, she made herself ask the expected polite question. “How old is your son?”
Jack stopped and sighed. “Brandon’s twenty-five. I didn’t know about him until he was ten. His mother was killed in a car accident and I ended up with custody.”
Trudy studied his now very, very serious face. “That must have been hard, but I’m sure you were a good father to him.”
“How can you be so sure of that?” Jack a
sked.
Trudy shrugged. “Because my instincts have never been wrong about you. I knew all those years ago that underneath that arrogant bluster was a very good man.” She pointed at him with her hand. “What I didn’t know back then was how handsome you’d turn out to be. You’re aging well, Jack.”
“So are you,” Jack said softly, coming over to lean on the counter. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever come across.”
“Jack, I’m not…”
He put two fingers over her lips. “If you can’t say thank you, say nothing.” He looked stern and waited to see if she would comply. “I find you beautiful. My opinion is mine and not up for debate. Now what am I cooking us for dinner?”
Deciding everything else needed to wait until she was fed, Trudy eased away from Jack’s fingers and looked around. She saw her head chef, Andrew, at the stove.
“Andrew—Honey—Sweetheart, what’s for dinner tonight?”
“Honey and Sweetheart? I think my hearing is going out. For the specials, we have Chef Trudy Baker’s famous Chicken with Sage, or if you want red meat, we’re serving marinated Steak with Arugula. The sous chef tonight made a nice red cabbage salad earlier and a cauliflower toss up for the sides of both dishes. You want me to make you guys dinner?”
Jack narrowed his eyes at the man, obviously offended by the offer, and it made Trudy laugh. “No, thank you. I brought my own cook. I picked him up at a fundraiser down the street.”
Andrew huffed at her teasing as he plated four meals for the hovering waitperson. “Just because the man’s prettier and has his own TV show doesn’t mean he cooks better than me.”
“No one cooks better than you, but Jack kisses better,” Trudy bragged, earning a surprised chuckle from Jack. He gave her a questioning look about her admission and she enjoyed it far too much. Cage rattling was one of her favorite pastimes and Jack’s serious demeanor just begged to be shaken up.
“I’m going to have to take your word for his kissing talents, but my heart is breaking, Gertrude. Guess I’m going home to Sylvie again tonight. She’s a good wife. I’ll probably keep her. The kids would probably prefer I did.”
Never Ever Satisfied Page 9
