Vin swallowed down the ever-present lump in his throat. The one that formed whenever thoughts of his mother, Sonia, and her quick passing entered his mind.
How was it he didn’t see the signs of how sick she was? How much the backbreaking work of running the stand was taking a toll on her? He should have watched her more closely. Should have made sure she was seeing her doctor regularly, health insurance or not. He should have taken better care of her. They were all they’d had. Vin looked down at his clenched fists, then loosened them. He knew this sort of thinking was ridiculous and also knew if his mother were alive she’d take him to task for it. Yes, cancer took her away from him way too quickly and, yes, he’d barely had a chance to enjoy his final moments with her and say good-bye before she was gone. But he also knew she’d be the first to tell him not to question God’s plan but to be grateful in all things. Vin let out a breath. Grateful. Yeah, that was a hard one. Here he was now with the restaurant she’d always talk about having, and the one person he wanted to share it with wasn’t by his side. It was hard to be grateful about that.
Vin let out another breath harshly and forcefully pushed the thought away. The restaurant. That was it. He needed to keep his mind on the restaurant and business. Not the fact that his mother spent most of her days in the off season working in other people’s kitchens and, when not doing that, she’d spent her on-season hours working to make something of their little stand while dreaming out loud of a place just like the one he had now. With this restaurant he would not let her down. With Canela he’d see her legacy of good food live on. And he’d also not let his friends down. He’d bust his ass to make sure Carter and Aidan made their money back with interest. No way would he be the one out of the three of them to fall.
After taking another swig of his beer, Vin pulled it away from his lips and let out a low sigh. He didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight. It wasn’t his usual first of the month money musings. It was something more, and he knew he had to shake it. He didn’t like feeling powerless or out of control. He’d had enough of that in his life. He also didn’t like the idea of his fate resting in the hands of others. He had to find a way to drum up new business. Vin turned and headed back into his apartment through the deck’s double sliding doors. Pausing, he gave a brief whistle, and his lab, Dex, came bounding up the back deck stairs from where he was down on the sand. Dex was about to go into the apartment when Vin stopped him by holding up his hand. “Hold it right there,” he said. “You’re not bringing all that sand into the house; wipe your feet.”
Dex looked up at him sheepishly and then hopped unsteadily on the mat before the entryway to the apartment’s open-plan living room/bedroom. He looked up at Vin expectantly. Eyes wide and hopeful. At Vin’s nod he leaped into the apartment. Vin shook his head and walked in behind the dog, closing the sliders behind him. Shifting his head back and forth he tried to let go of some of the tension he felt creeping along his neck and spine. Ignoring the couch, and even the game on TV, Vin walked toward the kitchen to make something quick to eat.
Although he could have had leftovers from the day’s restaurant specials, he wasn’t in the mood. Opening his fridge and looking around, Vin furrowed his brows as he surveyed his many choices, still coming up empty. Just then a vision of full lips, smooth skin, and delicate shoulders came to his mind, and he flexed his fingers as if spontaneously his hands remembered the perfect feel of the fullness of her hips.
Shit.
Vin couldn’t believe that he was still thinking about her despite her brusque brush-off. But there she was. Wham! Once again in the forefront of his mind, and here he was, hard and hungry and still fixated on her with no remedy for the situation. With yet another long sigh, as if on automatic pilot, he reached toward the back of the fridge and pulled out what he knew was premade filling for empanadas. Vin placed the filling on his prep island as he quickly pulled out flour and butter, plus a bowl to prepare an easy dough.
He’d never had a woman cut and run the way Lily Perry did, twice no less, just when things had the chance for some real momentum. Now here it was two weeks later and he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. He’d planned to pursue her more when he’d gotten back to the reception, but when he’d returned, hard-on sufficiently dormant, she was wrapped up in her family. They’d indeed, as she’d feared, trapped her in a line dance, and though she protested by saying she hated line dances, she dipped, shimmied, and wobbled expertly with the best of them. Smiling and laughing gloriously, barely sparing him a glance for the rest of the evening.
Vin turned the fire to a medium-high flame as he filled the dough shells, his mind divided, partially on his cooking but mostly on her. Could he really blame her? It wasn’t like he went after her when he’d had the chance after their encounter under the dock. Not the way Simon had gone after her sister. Vin snorted to himself. A partial laugh, partial smirk. And look where Simon was now. Chained. Sophie was a great girl and all, but come on. Everyone knew forever was a fallacy, and the headache on the way to learning that lesson was just too much of a pain in the ass.
Nah, chasing a girl like Lily was not for him at that time, just as it wasn’t presently. Back then his mind was where his mind always was, half on the surf and the other half on his grind. He knew he wasn’t in any mental state for commitment. That sort of thing wasn’t for him anyway. It was one thing to commit with friends to a business venture but to put your heart into something more . . . No way. He’d never do that.
Although he’d inherited his mother’s gift when it came to cooking he’d seriously feared he’d inherited his father’s traits when it came to women. When not even the good love of a woman like his mother or the responsibility of taking care of a son could keep his father held down, well, Vincent had to wonder what hope there was for him. His mother, for all her love and positive reinforcement, could never deny the faint resemblances to his father when he’d go out and surf the most dangerous waves or do reckless things like zip around on his motorcycle in the rain. And she’d never stopped praying that there would be a woman who would make him want to actually settle down and slow down. He snorted. That was yet to happen. Of all the women he’d dated he’d not met one who’d been around longer than a season and the changing of weather patterns before he’d started to feel restless. He could almost see his mother now as she pull her lips together tight before opening her mouth and voicing her disapproval, not directly to him but to the pot of whatever she was cooking. “I swear, Vincent, it’s at these times I think my angel is cursed by the devil. You have your father’s same wandering spirit. A born heartbreaker is what you are.” But when he’d start to protest, she shake her head and come at him with a spoon to taste whatever delectable sauce it was she had cooked up, silencing him all together. “No matter,” she’d say. “You’ll get caught soon enough. And it won’t just be the girl’s heart that’s gets broken. I just hope I’m around to see it.”
And then he’d protest and she’d wave a hand, shooing him away as he went on, his bike roaring as he was off to his latest conquest.
All of that reminiscing didn’t matter. Canela was his first love now. All he had room for in his heart and head. Vin knew he needed to truly make a go of the restaurant and get on sure footing so that money, or lack of it, could stop being a stressor for him. He remembered what a stressor it was for his mother, raising him alone, and he’d never forgive himself for doing that to her, for spending so much of his life carefree and on his own terms that he didn’t really stop to think of her needs.
Not wanting to let his mind go any deeper, Vin popped four empanadas into the fryer and instead let his mind wander back to Lily. He was hoping he’d run into her at the reception; he was glad he did despite the outcome of their encounter. She was just as hot as he remembered, no, even hotter. And it was clear that their time apart had done her very well. Not that he knew all that much about her then besides what they’d discussed that afternoon, and they sure as much didn’t discuss much of any
thing lip-locked that evening. She must be nearing thirty; he knew she was younger than him but older than her sister. It was surprising, on one hand, and even refreshing how she didn’t feel the need to settle down, but part of him, the practical part, wondered if it was all an act. He hadn’t met one woman in the past few years who wasn’t on the fast track to two and a half kids and a white picket fence as she chased down her biological clock running a relay, passing the baton with her career-ladder clock. Growing up with a single mother, he could admit it was a tough race.
But it wasn’t his race. He wasn’t chasing clocks, fences, or kids. At least not yet. And truth be told, he didn’t think he ever would be. Presently, and for the foreseeable future, all he saw was his restaurant, building that in his mother’s honor, and while his body held out, his surfboard and battling the waves. That was enough for him. Enough to keep him, if not happy, content for a good long while.
Vin took his empanadas out of the fryer and set them on a paper towel to dry. Frowning, he transferred them to a small plate, then opened another beer while heading over to the couch to flip on Sports Center and the results of the game. Dex came sniffing around, all eyes and whines, but Vin headed him off with a chew toy tossed over to his bed. “Sorry, dude, I’m not in a sharing mood tonight.”
Leaning back he made quick work of the small, hot pies but still wasn’t satisfied. He let out a groan when images of Lily in that pretty semi-sheer dress came back to his mind. The way it fluttered up in the breeze and he caught glimpses of her smooth, curvy thighs. Just the thought had him going hard again. Damn! You’d think he was a teenager with no control over his own body the way she stirred him up.
But, man, was she hot. That gorgeous, soft brown skin of hers that reminded him of sugared cinnamon, and he could just about taste her on his tongue. Her lips. So pretty and pouty. Cute as hell even when she frowned. Little did she know that frown only served to tease him and made him want to kiss her all the more. Vin flexed his fists as his hands remembered the feel of her perfectly shaped ass under his palms. He let out a groan. Fuck. This was getting ridiculous.
Looking down at his empty plate with a frown, Vin suddenly was more than hungry. It was as if his hunger had turned to a longing. But a longing for what exactly? He shook his head. Even for him this type of thinking was a bit dramatic but with the dramatic thoughts and the deep hunger Vin knew that another batch of empanadas just wouldn’t cut it. Ignoring the TV and the depressing score results from the New York teams, Vin picked up his phone and quickly scrolled through the contacts. There were plenty of women he could call to help his current urges. He’d be satisfied and so would she, but frustratingly there was only one contact on his list whom he really wanted to call and she’d made it clear that he might as well lose her number. Lily had told him in no uncertain terms that he was nothing more than a wedding reception playmate and if they were to get in touch, it would be business only. She was a woman who liked to be in charge, calling the shots, and wanted it no other way. And though he could admit that sexy boss ladyness was part of her appeal, it did nothing for his current situation. Should he call her, make up a business proposition that she’d clearly see through in a moment? Or just give up and wait it out until the next Perry wedding, which was sure to come soon?
Part of Vin knew that Lily was totally full of crap with all her talk. There was no way should could have been faking her responses to him. He’d felt her excitement, the way her body quivered ever so slightly as his tongue stroked hers, and unless she was the best actress ever she was just as heated as he was. Those were some hard-ass nipples he’d felt under the pads of his fingertips. Part of him knew a repeat would not be wholly frowned upon. He was sure of it.
So why didn’t they just pick up where they’d left off and have something mutually satisfying for them both? Clearly the need for release wasn’t one-sided. Vin shifted uncomfortably in his jeans, and with that, his decision was made. But he couldn’t call her this late. This late, a call would definitely be considered a bootie call, and only a bootie call to a woman like Lily, even if it was just to pick up where they’d left off at her sister’s wedding, would not be taken favorably. But despite making out twice, she wasn’t the type you just rung up past eleven. No, with Lily a man had to have a plan. He’d wait another day or two and then tell her he’d been thinking of her. Maybe offer her a special dinner at his restaurant. Their date, whether she was up for strictly business or pleasure has been months in the making—the least he could do was put in a little effort.
* * *
Lily was exhausted as she flipped from the news to the sound of the late-night banter of the evening talk show host. But exhaustion aside, she opened her laptop to do a little research for her latest client. Owning her own business meant that nine-to-five was not a part of her vocabulary; she was a 24–7 type of operation. Not quite a one-woman show, her boutique event-planning organization also included her part-time assistant, Tori, running everything with her; the two of them had to fudge it and pretend to be big-time to hang with the sophisticated Manhattan firms that catered to the rich and famous.
Thankfully she was finally starting to wedge her name in with that set, and her latest client, Chelsea Carlyle, had hired her to put together the ultimate in graduation parties for her daughter, Christie. Normally Lily preferred to stick to corporate events and weddings, but with corporate downsizing and the economy, corporations weren’t spending as much as they had in the past on events and increasingly, weddings were becoming intimate destination situations, so her New York specialized services weren’t as in demand as she had hoped. Still she would not be defeated. Lily knew she had talent and she loved this business, so she’d find a way to make it work. Hence here she was putting together what was essentially a glorified kiddie party. No matter though, with the long reach of a socialite like Chelsea Carlyle it would do Lily a load of good if this party went off without a hitch and her business name would get a certain cache if it was uttered from the right side of Chelsea’s mouth. There was always a birthday, and bar and bat mitzvahs came around every year, not to mention sweet sixteens and Quinceañeras.
Lily tightened her lips as she opened up a new program on her laptop to begin to storyboard some party ideas. But her brows drew together as her mind started to wander yet again to heated kisses, strong hands, and the feel of rough scruff as it rubbed against her bare cheek and down her décolletage. Lily gave her head a shake to clear it. This won’t do. She’d been telling herself the words repeatedly in the two weeks since her wooded tryst with Vincent Caro.
After the wedding, she and Thomas had talked only briefly. He’d felt like there wasn’t much of a need to offer up excuses as to why he couldn’t come to the wedding since they weren’t a couple like that. But he’d generously (his words) offered to pay for his uneaten meal. Lily told him to send the check to her sister as a wedding present and let him know she wouldn’t be contacting him for future dates. It was no use getting bent out of shape about it. In all relationships someone eventually leaves. Even in those relationships where you’re not really together. She figured in this case she’d get a jump on what was inevitable. It wasn’t worth it to have a man on your arm if he was just weighing you down like an anchor, and Thomas was definitely turning into an anchor.
Besides, if he had been there she wouldn’t have been able to have so much fun with Vin. That also wasn’t turning out as it should have. She’d made a clean break from Vin after their little, okay, not-so-little encounter. So why was it he was still firmly taking up so much space in her mind? What was this preoccupation with Vincent Caro? Even if things went further with him to the point of finally going past hand-to-hand groping, Lily knew she couldn’t, no, wouldn’t get but so close. So why stress it so much?
She let out a frustrated sigh as her stomach growled. Great, just the thought of that tall, delicious hunk of man and Lily was hungry. Hungry and horny. She put her laptop aside on her bed and headed toward the kitchen. Opening her fridg
e she was almost blinded by the brightness of the light reflecting off the practically empty space.
“Shit,” she murmured. How long had it been since she’d taken a visit to the grocery store? She’d been going from job to job almost nonstop, mostly having food on the run, and then on her nights off she’d been hightailing it out to the island to see her family. Guilted by her mom, and truth be told Mama Dee too, to not miss out on their weekly family dinners. All the Perry women, Mama Dee, though a Henton, took the Perry name in stride since taking the place at the other end of the table in the absence of their father. The gathering was large now with extra folding chairs with the sudden addition of male extensions in the form of the new brothers-in-law. To Lily though, the dinners were still bittersweet without her dad and though she knew she was angry she still missed him.
But as much as she wanted to be a no show she knew she couldn’t have missed out on tonight’s dinner, because Sophie and Simon were back and sharing tales and photos from their honeymoon in Hawaii. Not that she hadn’t seen them all already on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and any other way her sister could poke the hell out of everyone with her wedded bliss. Lily reminded herself that Sophie was living the dream, and it was a dream that she had helped create by giving her the advice of forgoing the usual bridal registry and instead having guests help pay for certain extras on their honeymoon. Both Sophie and Simon’s social media accounts were filled with likes and hearts from people who were happy to see them getting massages by the pool or zip-lining through the lush terrain of their generosity.
Coming away from the fridge with nothing more than limp celery stalks and suspiciously dated hummus, Lily dumped both in the trash and headed back to the bedroom to work.
To Me I Wed Page 5
