Sweeter With You

by Susan Mallery

  Her little red truck, the one she used to pull her trailer, looked naked there on the street. There was a flyer for her business on a nearby pole. As she watched, a gust of wind caught it and tugged the paper free of its anchor. The sheet disappeared up into the sky.

  “What on earth happened?”

  “Are you okay?”

  The familiar voices had her turning. Her two sisters, Dellina and Fayrene, hurried up to her. They reached for her and hugged her close.

  “Are you hurt?” Dellina asked.

  “Tourists are idiots,” Fayrene muttered.

  She let their care and concern wash over her. Tomorrow she would be rational about what had happened. Today she was going to wallow.

  She sniffed, then stepped back. “How did you know what happened?”

  “Greg called me,” Dellina said. “I called Fayrene.”

  Greg had taken charge, but in a good way, she thought. She turned to thank him, but he’d disappeared into the crowd, leaving her in the capable arms of her family.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE NEXT DAY Ana Raquel found herself back at her spot for lunch. She had regulars who might not have heard about the accident and she wanted to explain why she was shutting down so early. She’d barely been able to sleep that night and when she did manage to doze off, she was awakened by nightmares of the accident.

  It wasn’t the damage that bothered her as much as having things taken out of her control. She tried telling herself the good news: no one had been hurt and she was grateful for that. But still...what about her dream? Next year seemed so far away.

  She rounded the corner and found that her usual place had already been taken by a large SUV. One that looked familiar. As she pulled up behind it, she saw that Greg had set up a table just off the sidewalk with a big hand-lettered sign. It showed a crayon version of her trailer with a big bandage on the back corner. The notice above invited her customers to write in their best wishes.

  More amazing were the stacks of sandwiches and salads he was setting out on the table. She got out of her car and hurried over to him.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  Greg smiled at her. “I didn’t want your regulars going hungry,” he told her. “I went into the restaurant early and threw a few things together.”

  She felt her mouth drop open. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I know. I wanted to. You were pretty upset yesterday.”

  She nodded. “Too upset to think of doing this. What a great idea.” Her season didn’t have to end so abruptly, she thought happily. She could make food at home and bring it here. While the menu wouldn’t be so extensive, she had already made her cookies and muffins the night before.

  “Thank you,” she said, impulsively hugging him. “You’re being really good to me. I appreciate it.”

  His body was warm against hers, she thought, suddenly aware of pressing against him with only a few layers of clothing between them. She felt the heat of him and found herself wanting something more than just a hug. She wanted to hang on and never let go and, at the same time, she found herself needing to cry.

  Adrenaline, she told herself as she stepped back. Emotional residue from the accident.

  “I don’t know how to repay you for all this.” She motioned to the sandwiches and salads.

  “Send them up to my place for dinner.”

  He was joking, but she was serious as she said she would. She would tell everyone to go there, she thought. And she would mention what a nice guy he was.

  He walked toward his SUV. “We still need to get going on our cookbook planning,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Tomorrow at three,” she promised. “Café kitchen.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered. Because she did. A lot.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE NEXT COUPLE of months passed in a blur. Ana Raquel and Greg argued and negotiated their way through recipes, organization and bonus material. The town came through with recipe suggestions. Ana Raquel and Greg each had their favorites, and sometimes the choice between two equally wonderful options came down to a round of rock, paper, scissors.

  They spent their mornings on the cookbook, then moved to the restaurant. There the heated discussions continued as they prepped for the evening’s dinner service. Somehow Ana Raquel found herself getting more and more involved with the cooking.

  Once the last patron had left, she and Greg returned their attention to the cookbook. They worked late into the night to find the right combination of savory and sweet, entrées, appetizers and desserts. They’d agreed on easy recipes filled with flavor. The kind of food you could serve your family and the boss when he or she came over.

  Through a friend of Greg’s, they’d made contact with a publisher and quickly found themselves dealing with a deadline. But the book was finally finished.

  The best part of the project had been working with Greg. He was exactly who he seemed to be—a nice man she could depend on. He could be stubborn, but never aggressive. He was reasonable, if quirky. And lately, when he smiled, she felt her world get a little brighter.

  Ana Raquel chopped furiously. The key to a successful service was prep work, she reminded herself. Tonight was a special dinner at Café. Advance copies of the cookbook had arrived. She and Greg would be handing them out at the end of the dinner where every item on the menu was based on the Fool’s Gold Cookbook.

  Life-Changing Guacamole was offered alongside Bubbly Feta and Sweet Pepper Dip with Pita Crisps. There were entrées for every taste and a dessert buffet that ranged from S’Mores Bars to Triple-Chocolate Caramel Party Cake.

  She finished chopping the onions and went to work on the garlic. Greg was lining up the proteins they would be using. Music blared from speakers built into the ceiling.

  The staff at the restaurant worked well together, she thought, smashing her knife against cloves of garlic, then peeling away the skin. Their movements were practiced, the results tangible in the smoothness of a sauce or the tang of a salad dressing.

  Over the past couple of months, she’d found that she enjoyed working with Greg in his kitchen. They argued a lot but only about what mattered, and she won as often as not. Mayor Marsha had been right, she admitted reluctantly. She never would have been able to handle the cookbook on her own.

  “Oh my God!” said Linda, one of the hostesses, setting a spoon in the sink. “That dressing. It’s heavenly.”

  Greg looked at her. “It’s good.”

  “I want to be buried with it.” Linda paused. “Okay, that sounds more gross than I meant.”

  Ana Raquel chuckled as she finely chopped garlic. A lot of kitchens were filled with tension and competition. She’d had more than her share of that while she’d been in San Francisco. But things were different here. More relaxed.

  “Take a break,” Greg said, coming up to her station. “I need you to see something.”

  She set down her knife and followed him to the dining room. Once there, her breath caught in her throat.

  Extra tables had been brought in to satisfy the demand for their special tasting dinner. The tablecloths and fresh flowers were coordinated with the colors of the book cover. Speaking of the book, there were stacks on a table off to the side. She and Greg would be signing them later.

  On the other side of the room, the dessert buffet was already in place. Delectable smells filled the room.

  “Dellina did a great job,” Ana Raquel murmured.

  “It’s impressive. I wish my place looked like this all the time.”

  She turned to him. “It could. Talk to Dellina. She’s great with decorating and parties. She has a real eye for how to put rooms together so that people feel relaxed and enjoy themselves.”

  He smiled at her.
“I’ll have to do that. I don’t have a lot of spare time. The restaurant keeps me busy.”

  “I can see that.” He was getting by with minimal staff. But he was also in that awkward stage—successful, but not making enough to hire everyone he needed. Any extra bodies he could afford were generally serving staff. “You’re doing too much yourself. You need help.”

  “Good help is hard to find.”

  She shook her head. “You won’t have a problem. You’re surprisingly easy to work with.”

  “So are you.” He moved toward her. “I’d like you to think about working here. With me. Officially.”

  Warmth flooded her. To be honest, she’d been thinking about it herself. “I like the Café,” she admitted. “The rest of the staff, what you’re doing with the menu. It’s tempting.”

  “But?”

  “I have my trailer and I love that. Committing to a kitchen is a big deal.”

  “I’m not asking you to give up your street food,” he told her. “I could help with that. We could use it to promote the restaurant and vice versa. We’re a good team. Or are you still mad about my beating you for student council president?”

  He was teasing, of course, but there was something serious in his eyes. An emotion she couldn’t quite fathom.

  “I’m not mad,” she said, her gaze slipping to his mouth. He hadn’t kissed her since that one time when she’d kissed him. She wasn’t sure why not. Was she misreading the situation? Did he only want them to be business associates? Because, while she wanted that, too, somewhere along the way she might have, possibly, fallen for him.

  “Good,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. “All right. We have a dinner to prepare. Only our friends and family and California’s longest-serving mayor.”

  The moment was lost, she realized. Or maybe it had never been there at all. Maybe she was the only one thinking there could be more between them.

  “As long as there’s no pressure,” she said, determined to sound upbeat and cheerful. First the dinner tonight. In the morning she would figure out the state of her heart and decide what to do about it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE EVENING PASSED in a whirlwind of activity. The guests came in waves, filling tables, then lingering as others arrived. It was like regular dinner service on steroids. The kitchen was controlled insanity, with everyone working together to keep food moving.

  Somewhere around ten, Linda came and got Ana Raquel and Greg. They walked out into the front of the restaurant only to find nearly everyone they knew in town crowding into the room. Ana Raquel’s sisters were there, as were Greg’s extended family. The mayor, of course, the city council, other small business owners and friends. Lots and lots of friends.

  She and Greg were given a standing ovation. People called out, “Wonderful meal” and “Come cook at my house!” She laughed even as she felt tears burning in her eyes.

  Greg led her over to the table with the books and they sat down next to each other to begin signing.

  Ana Raquel signed until her fingers cramped, then kept on going. Sometime after midnight, the last of their guests left. The kitchen staff had already cleaned up, leaving the counters gleaming and bare and a couple of small pots simmering on the stove. As she inhaled the scent of their dinner, her stomach growled.

  Greg flashed her a grin. “Me, too. Starving. I’m not sure I’ve eaten since breakfast.”

  “I know I haven’t.”

  She went to get the plates. When she returned to the stove, he was still there, but now he held a bottle of champagne.

  “I thought we deserved a toast for all we’ve been through.”

  “I agree.”

  He opened the bottle and poured them each a glass. They raised their glasses to each other. “To the Fool’s Gold Cookbook,” he said.

  “The cookbook.”

  They touched glasses, then sipped. The liquid was sweet and bubbly, tickling her nose and making her laugh. She carried the bottle to the small table in the back of the kitchen while Greg served their meals.

  She was tired, she thought, but happy. She was still confused about her feelings for Greg and not sure what to do about his job offer. While she liked working with him, she wasn’t sure she could separate her personal feelings from her professional duties. She didn’t want to be one of those women mooning over her business partner. That was just plain sad and kind of embarrassing. She wanted better for herself.

  Of course, a case could be made that thinking she might want more and not asking for it was stupid. Maybe he felt the same way. Maybe he’d secretly been in love with her for years.

  That last thought made her chuckle. How preposterous, she thought.

  He walked to the table, a plate in each hand. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I’m so tired I’m getting punchy. I’m only having one glass of champagne so I don’t fall asleep in my soup.”

  He set down the food. She waited for him to take a seat, but instead he moved closer and cupped her face in his hands.

  “Ana Raquel,” he murmured, right before he kissed her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  GREG’S MOUTH WAS soft and tender. She leaned into him, prepared to lose herself in his kiss, but he pulled back and stared into her eyes.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  What? He wanted to have a conversation now? Wasn’t that just like a man.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  Ana Raquel felt her mouth drop open. She consciously closed it. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  He smiled and touched her cheek. “I’m in love with you. I have been for years.”

  No way! It wasn’t possible. She’d just been thinking that and now he was saying it? Was someone playing a trick on her?

  “I lost my heart to you when I was seven,” he admitted. “The first time I saw you dressed up as Cinderella. The reason I acted the way I did onstage, overacting, talking over everyone’s lines, was that I was afraid I was going to blurt out the truth.”

  His dark gaze locked with hers. “I only ran for student council president because you did and I thought it would be fun for us to hang out. I never thought I’d win. As for what happened after prom...”

  He touched his mouth to hers. “You were my first time, too,” he whispered.

  She desperately wanted to believe him, but there were too many questions. “You always had a girlfriend.”

  He shrugged. “I was trying to get your attention.”

  “You didn’t come after me when I left.”

  “We were kids and needed to grow up. And, honestly, after you left so quickly, I thought you didn’t like me. But I kept track of you. Ask your sisters.”

  She didn’t have to, she realized. Both Dellina and Fayrene had always teased her about Greg. Now she knew why.

  Disbelief battled with a sense of certainty. There was only one reason she’d gotten so worked up whenever she thought about Greg. Only one reason she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. It was because she’d had feelings, too.

  “Back then, it was a crush. But knowing you now... I love you,” he repeated. “I don’t want you here just as my business partner. I want you as my everything partner. I know it’s a lot to take in, but will you at least think about it?”

  She tried to speak but couldn’t, then decided the words could wait. She threw herself into his arms and hung on as if she would never let go.

  “We can do it all,” he was saying. “The restaurant and your street food. We can even try another cookbook.”

  She started to laugh, then realized she was crying. Happy tears, she thought. Because she’d found the man who could be her life partner. Who could understand her dreams because he shared them.

  She drew back enough to see his
face. “I love you, too. I think I have for a long time.”

  “You were mostly pissed at me.”

  She laughed. “A little. Sometimes. You can be really annoying.”

  “I’ll try to change that.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. I like what we have together. And, yes, let’s do it all. The restaurant and the street food. We’ll use one to promote the other. We’ll be a team.”

  He drew her against him and kissed her again. She got lost in the feel of him and how being near him made every part of her tingle.

  On the table, the champagne went flat and the dinner cooled, but Ana Raquel didn’t even notice. Greg’s kisses were more delicious than food, more intoxicating than champagne.

  They were in love, she thought with a sigh. Fool’s Gold really was the land of happy endings.

  * * * * *

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