by Anne Rainey
“Yep. Ohio State University. Partied a little, studied a little, no great scholar or anything like that.” He looked at the pair of mugs and smiled. “I don’t do tea, Shay.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “I could make coffee or something. I don’t have any alcohol, though, sorry.”
He placed his hand on her back and nudged her. “Go sit down. I’ve got this.”
She laughed, and Vance thought it sounded way better than hearing her retch. “You always were too bossy for your own good, but this time, I don’t really mind.”
He grinned as he poured hot water over a tea bag. “I’m not going to lie; I do tend to give orders a lot. It annoys the crap out of my brothers.”
He held the mug out to her. After she took it, she said, “Speaking of your brothers, how are the renovations going at the diner?”
He sat in the seat next to her, worried when the thin wooden legs wobbled a little. “Everything is on schedule so far, but there’s a crap ton of work to go.”
He watched her blow on her tea to cool it down. The action had the opposite effect on his cock. Her full lips sans the peach lip gloss she’d worn earlier in the evening were even sexier than he once remembered. Her cute, oval-shaped face and the delicate line of her neck made him want to brush his lips against her satiny skin just to taste the warmth of her. At one time, it’d been her sweet innocence that had tugged at Vance, but Shayla was older now, and every curvy inch of her was all woman. “What are you doing exactly? Wanda didn’t really elaborate.”
Vance cleared his throat and said, “We aim to turn the diner into a bar and grill. It’ll be bigger, and there will be live music, a few big-screen televisions on the walls, and happy hour. The works.”
She took a sip of the warm liquid and hummed her approval. “That’s a huge project, Vance. Expensive too, I’d imagine.”
He nodded. “We’re trying to keep costs down as much as possible. My company is doing the bulk of the labor, and Brodix has a few ideas on how to pull in more business once we reopen.”
“Did you have to get a loan?” she asked. “And when will the reopening be?”
He tapped his foot on the floor in a lame effort to keep himself in check. She wasn’t up for what he had in mind, at least not tonight. “The grand opening will be April first. That gives us a month and a half. Not a lot of time for such a big job, I know, but there are a lot of us working on it.”
She sat up straighter and offered, “I’d like to pitch in, if I can.”
The idea of Shayla covered in sawdust and driving nails had his lips kicking upward. “Can you swing a hammer?”
“I don’t have any real experience, but I’m a quick study.”
He was unaccountably charmed by the notion that she was offering to help out his family. “Do you have the time? I mean, with your publishing business and all.”
She took another sip of her tea. The towel covering her head started to come unwound, and Vance had the urge to yank it off her and toss it to the floor, along with her clothes. “I’m sure I can work it in,” she said as she placed the mug back on the table. “A few hours here and there are better than nothing, right?”
He gave that some thought and knew she had it right. Besides, if she was at the diner helping him, then he’d have her close. Not a bad deal, all things considered. “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” he asked. “We can head over there, and I can show you around, if you want.”
Her eyes brightened. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you’ve seen the mess you’re about to walk into.”
She reached up, grasped the towel and pulled. It fell away from her head, and a tangled mass of wet red hair fell down around her shoulders. Vance reached out and fingered a lock. “I’ve always loved your hair, Shay. So soft and baby fine.”
“Thank you.” She yawned. “Oops, sorry.”
“You’re exhausted. Come on,” Vance said as he stood and reached out a hand. She took it willingly and smiled up at him. “How’s your stomach?”
He watched her swallow. “Better. Much better.”
“Good, but you need a good night’s sleep.”
“You’re leaving?”
She sounded disappointed. Hell, Vance knew that feeling well. He cupped her face in his palms and whispered, “Only because you aren’t one hundred percent right now. Tomorrow, when you’re feeling better, I plan to make up for it.”
Her gaze turned drowsy as her small hand came up to cover his. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Vance groaned and lowered his head. When their lips touched, the fire inside him built to an inferno of need. Her lips were the sweetest temptation. For a moment, he allowed himself free rein. He forgot that he was supposed to leave. Everything went up in smoke as the flavor of her fresh mint toothpaste and warm tea hit his tongue. Vance licked her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, nibbling and enjoying the eager sounds she made. She arched against him and whimpered, as if ready to plead for him to fuck her. He wanted to. God, how he wanted to. He would take her hard and fast. Slow and easy. He wanted her in so damn many ways it made his head spin.
When Vance reached out and massaged her left breast through the heavy sweatshirt with the palm of his hand, Shayla shuddered. He skated his lips over her cheek to her neck. He licked a spot just above the neckline of the sweatshirt, and Shayla let out a greedy sound. As he cupped the back of her head, her wet hair against his hand brought Vance back to reality. She wasn’t up for this, he reminded himself. Not an hour ago, she’d been hugging the porcelain. Christ, he was a royal ass.
With the last remnants of his willpower, Vance pulled away from her. “Sleep, honey,” he whispered. “You need it.”
“Uh, I’d rather do other things right now,” she said as she reached out for him. He took her hands in his and kissed the backs of her knuckles before dropping them away.
“Think of this as the end of chapter one,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll get to chapter two, I promise.”
Shayla wrinkled her nose and plopped into the chair. “In that case, chapter two better be fantastic, because I’m not happy how this one ended.”
He chuckled and crouched in front of her. “Chapter two is going to be explosive. Just you wait and see.” He kissed her one last time, needing another taste of her, then said, “Two o’clock sound good to you?”
She thought for a moment. “That should work. And I can fix us lunch.”
He nodded and touched her lower lip with his thumb. The soft, plump lip brought a carnal image to his mind. Her mouth wrapped tight around his cock, suckling and licking. “I’ll see you then,” he said in a rough voice. “Sleep tight, Shay.”
Without another word, he strode to the front door. If he didn’t get out fast, he was never going to leave. A man had only so much control, damn it.
Chapter Seven
It was a little before two in the afternoon, and Vance would be showing up any minute. In fact, if Shayla remembered correctly, the man would be early. Being late had always been a pet peeve of his. She grabbed the pepper grinder and sprinkled some over the salad before turning to the stove. She’d decided on grilled chicken, oven-roasted russet potatoes and a garden salad. Unless he’d changed drastically in the years they’d been apart, Vance was a meat-and-potatoes man. Shayla had wanted him good and satisfied. Part of her also wanted to show him that he wasn’t the only one who could cook.
As she placed the plate of chicken and potatoes on the table, the phone rang. Shayla froze. Was he cancelling? God, she hoped not. When it rang again, Shayla dragged herself to the other side of the room and picked up the cordless phone attached to the wall next to the fridge. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie, are you busy?”
Oh, thank you, God. “Hi, Mom, not at all.” She looked at the lunch she’d prepared and smiled. “How are things at home?”
“Everything’s fine. I just called to see how it was going with the new apartment and everything.”
Her mom was her best friend. They’d been through thick and thin together, which was why Shayla knew that the “everything” her mom referred to was Vance. “Um, great. The cold weather is taking some getting used to, but other than that, I’m good.”
There was a beat of silence, and Shayla thought maybe they’d gotten disconnected. “Have you talked to him yet?” her mom asked in a quieter tone.
Shayla heard the worry in her mom’s voice, and that was the last thing she wanted. Evelyn Riggs had had enough to deal with in her life, having been married to a monster like Peter Riggs, not to mention the breast cancer. She certainly didn’t need to waste time fretting about her daughter’s love life, or lack thereof.
“We’ve cleared the air, Mom, so you don’t need to be concerned,” Shayla said. “In fact, he’s coming over for lunch in a few minutes.”
“It’s been a long time since you two were an item,” she prodded. “I imagine a lot has changed. I’m sure he’s changed.”
“True,” Shayla said, unsure where her mom was going with the conversation. “But don’t read a lot into it. It’s just lunch.”
She tsked. “Ha! You’ve cared about that boy for as long as I can remember, young lady. Moving to Florida didn’t change a darn thing, much to your father’s dismay.”
Why had she thought she could fool the woman? “You’re right, but if I start overthinking it, I’ll make myself crazy. Today we’re going to have lunch together, nothing more.” If I hope it’ll lead to more, well, that’s my business.
“How’d he react to seeing you again?”
“At first he was angry, but we talked, and I think he understands why I did what I did.”
“You told him about your father?” she asked, her voice a little unsteady.
“Yeah. I think if Dad were still alive, Vance would’ve…”
“Of course he would’ve. He’s an honorable man. Nothing like the man I married.”
Sympathy for her mother prompted her to say, “Vance is a good man, that’s true, but so is Fred.”
Her mother sighed. “He’s so good to me that sometimes I can’t believe he’s real.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and Shayla said, “But he is real, and you deserve someone like Fred.”
“We both do, sweetie.” She paused, then added, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” Shayla replied. After they hung up, Shayla’s nerve endings were firing like pistons in a racecar engine. Was she doing the right thing? She’d gotten frustrated with Vance for wanting only a physical relationship, but she couldn’t deny her body ached for his just as much. All he had to do was glance her way, and her clit swelled and throbbed. When she imagined him stripping out of his jeans, his engorged cock within her reach, Shayla’s panties grew damp. All they’d done so far was some hot and heavy kissing, and already she was spiraling out of control. Her emotions were all over the place when it came to Vance. If she wasn’t careful, Shayla could end up on the losing side. When she heard her doorbell chime, her pulse quickened. Vance. She checked the clock. Right on time, of course.
Shayla tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothed her beige sweater down. Her jeans were a bit tighter than what she was used to, but they showed off her rear better than any of her others. When the doorbell blared again, Shayla sprinted from the room. She yanked the door open before a third ring.
Vance stood in the hallway to her apartment building and boldly eyeballed her. Slowly. As if afraid he’d miss something if he went too fast. Her pussy throbbed when his gaze stopped for a few seconds too long on her lower half.
“You look hot,” he murmured.
Her face heated. Oh my God, it wasn’t as if she’d never heard a compliment before. What was wrong with her? “Thanks,” she said as she let him in and watched him remove his heavy leather coat to reveal a black pocket T-shirt and a pair of snug-fitting jeans. “So do you,” she told him, appreciating the sight before her. Appreciating that for now, for today, she had him all to her greedy little self.
He sniffed the air. “Mm, something smells good.”
She smiled and led the way to the kitchen. “I hope you like grilled chicken.”
“Love it.” He leaned over the platter sitting on the table. “Are those potatoes oven-roasted?”
Worried he hated it, she answered, “Yeah, is that okay?”
“More than okay. I love those things.” He glanced over at her as he took his seat. “So you’re feeling better?”
“Yep. A twinge here and there is all.” She opened the fridge and peered inside. “What do you want to drink? I have sweet tea, water, and a few cans of soda in here somewhere.”
“Iced tea sounds great.”
She took the pitcher out and poured them each a glass. As she handed his over, she said, “I just made it this morning. I hope its sweet enough.”
Vance took the glass from her and drank a third of it down. “It’s perfect,” he said when he came up for air. “Damn, I was thirsty.”
“I gathered.” She laughed and sat down, acutely aware of their knees touching beneath the table.
He picked up the platter and served them each a chicken breast and potatoes. “We’ve been at the diner all morning beating the crap out of four-by-fours and tearing out the old wiring. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
She started on her salad first but noticed he didn’t follow suit. “It sounds like you have quite a job ahead of you.”
“We do. Not sure any of us knew how big a job until today.” He cut a large chunk from his chicken and brought it to his mouth. Shayla held her breath, wondering if he would love it or hate. When he cut another and stabbed it with a fork, she started to breathe easier. “You’re a hell of a cook, Shay,” he said as he cut yet another. “Want to come work at the diner?”
“As a cook?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
He swallowed a few more bites of his chicken and took a long drink. “Woman, if you didn’t already have your own business, and clearly a successful one, I’d try and talk you into coming to work for us.”
That he was serious surprised Shayla. “But you have a cook, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Eddie is great. He’s been with us for years, but if the restaurant gets as many customers as we’re anticipating, then he’ll need help.”
When he started on the potatoes, Shayla’s heart melted at the notion that he was so enthusiastically eating the lunch she’d cooked for them. How wonderful would it have been to have this every afternoon with Vance? And each morning, sitting across the table from each other before they headed off to work.
All too easily, Shayla pictured Vance coming home after a long, hard job at some construction site, taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless. They would’ve talked about their days over dinner. God, so many years lost, and all because she’d let her father dictate the way she should live her life. All because she’d been too much the coward to stand up to the tyrant and take control of her life.
After her salad was finished, she dug into her own meal. Soon Vance was wiping a napkin over his mouth and sitting back, a look of utter satisfaction on his gorgeously rugged face. When she noticed he had yet to touch his salad, Shayla frowned. “You didn’t eat your veggies.”
He picked up a cucumber slice and popped it into his mouth. “Tastes good, but I’m full.”
She pushed the bowl closer to him. “You were supposed to eat your salad first, though.”
He pushed it right back where it was. “Says who?”
She started to pick up her drink, but his question stopped her. “It’s just something you do. In our house, Dad had a very specific way of doing everything, and that included dinner.”
Vance laughed and leaned one elbow on the table. “You need to come to a Jennings gathering, then. It’s total chaos there. Every man and woman for themselves.”
Shayla couldn’t comprehend a meal like that. “When Dad was alive, we would dress in our Sunday best every night f
or dinner. No one spoke, and you were to eat every last bite or you didn’t leave the table.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” he said in a tender voice.
Her brows scrunched together, and she looked down at her barely touched meal. She was full, but she’d been prepared to eat all of it. God, even now her father had her obeying his every command. It was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, for Lord’s sake.
“Shay?”
She glanced up to find Vance staring at her with sympathy and understanding. Too late she realized she’d been sitting there staring at her plate, not speaking. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second.”
He reached out and took her hand in his. When he twined their fingers together, Shayla knew that nothing had ever felt more right. “When you’re with me, you eat what you want. Dessert first, if that’s your preference. Got it?”
His words thrust Shayla back to the first time they’d met, and she smiled. “Do you remember that time you came up to me at lunch? You asked to sit with me.”
“How could I forget?” Vance bobbed his eyebrows. “I’d been looking for an excuse to talk to you ever since I first saw you in Biology.”
Even now Shayla’s cheeks heated as she recalled how shy she’d been around Vance. “I’d been secretly crushing on you, you know.”
He cocked his head to one side. “You were, huh?”
Shayla nodded “Yeah, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually talk to you. I kept losing my voice whenever you came within ten feet of me.”
He squeezed her hand. “If I recall, I offered you my dessert.”
“Apple crisp,” she said, as if it were yesterday. “I ate every bite too.”
“Hmm, yeah,” he murmured. “I liked watching you eat. It kind of turned me on.”
Shayla’s entire body warmed at Vance’s admission, but as she thought again about her father and his strict rules, she cringed. “Sometimes it’s like I can hear my dad’s condemning voice in my head. I forget that I don’t have to do what he says any longer.” She paused and added, “Thanks for not thinking I’m certifiable.”
