The Single Dad's Family Recipe

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The Single Dad's Family Recipe Page 8

by Rachael Johns


  Eliza looked up from where she’d just seated his mom, her best friend, Marcia, and the twins. As their eyes met, she gave him a slow smile that he felt right down to his toes.

  “Daddy!” Hallie spotted him, rushed out of her seat and threw her arms around his waist. “Can I have some french fries, please? Hamish wants french fries, too. Don’t you?” she said, glancing back to her brother as if daring him to disagree.

  Lachlan smiled as he carried his daughter back to the table. “I was hoping you’d be a little more adventurous than that,” he said, lowering her down into her seat, “but if you choose something from the menu, we might be able to do some fries on the side.”

  “Yay.” The twins punched the air in unison.

  He chuckled and glanced to his mom and Marcia, who would soon be Quinn’s mother-in-law. “Welcome, ladies, so glad you could join us tonight.”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” Marcia said, gazing around. “This place looks fantastic and I feel so privileged to get to try it out before the rest of the town.”

  “We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Nora said, standing to give him a hug. “I’m so proud of everything you and Eliza have achieved so far.”

  Lachlan liked the way his mom spoke as if he and Eliza were a partnership and wondered if somehow she could tell that his feelings for the head hostess were growing into something a little more than professional. He’d pretty much finished experimenting with the dishes now—the menu had already gone to print—but their nightly rendezvous hadn’t stopped.

  And he found himself looking forward to them more and more.

  During the day, his conversations with Eliza were strictly professional—revolving almost entirely around what needed to be achieved in the lead up to opening the restaurant—but at night, he forbade them to talk about work. At night, while he taught her to cook, they made easy conversation, which got a little bit more personal with every passing day. He hadn’t enjoyed a woman’s company this much in as long as he could remember.

  “I can’t take any of the credit.” Eliza scoffed but her cheeks flushed.

  “That’s not the way my son tells it,” Nora said. “He told me these preopening dinners were all your idea. But I do worry the two of you are working far too hard. I hope Lachlan is leaving you some time to relax and settle into your new apartment. How are you finding life in Jewell Rock?”

  “Oh, I love it.” Eliza smiled. “Everyone is so friendly. I’ve never lived in a small town before—so it’s a little weird that the people at the supermarket already know me by name—but aside from that, I like the slower pace of life. In New York, everyone is always in a rush, but here, no one seems to be in such a hurry they can’t stop and say hello.”

  “Splendid. Now, what are you doing on Sunday?”

  Eliza’s brow furrowed slightly. “Um, nothing. I’ll probably end up cleaning my apartment.”

  “Nonsense. Sundays are supposed to be days of rest. Housework is strictly forbidden.” His mom clapped her hands together. “You’ll come to lunch at my place instead.”

  Eliza looked a little flustered.

  “Mom,” Lachlan said. “It’s customary to ask people, not tell them when you invite them over for a bite to eat. Eliza might have had enough of us McKinnels during the week and prefer to spend her weekends by herself.”

  Although secretly he loved the idea of hanging out with her on Sunday, as well.

  His mom rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Eliza. If you don’t have a better offer, would you like to come have Sunday lunch with me and my ever-growing tribe?”

  Eliza laughed. “That would be lovely, thank you. Now, can I get you some drinks to start with?”

  That was his cue to head back into the kitchen, and with one last lingering look at Eliza, he did so. He needed to ignore his errant thoughts and focus on cooking.

  The next few hours flew by. The kitchen was a hive of activity with Lachlan and his team working seamlessly together, creating dishes he was proud of. There were only two mishaps—a batch of bourbon-glazed brussels sprouts slightly overcooked and one broken plate—but nothing that could be classified a calamity.

  Once the desserts had been served, he took a few moments to go out into the dining room and chat to his friends and siblings, who all raved about their dinners.

  “We did it,” he said to Eliza, meeting her as she was halfway back to the kitchen with an armful of dirty plates. He took them from her, their hands brushing against each other in the process. Her skin was silky smooth and he wanted to reach out and touch it again.

  “Did you ever have any doubt?” she asked, her eyes radiant as she grinned at him. “We make a good team.”

  But she turned and went back to keep clearing tables before he could agree.

  Although the cooking and serving part of the evening went fast, the next couple of hours dragged. No one seemed in a hurry to leave and conversation lingered over mugs of Spanish coffee. When the kitchen was sparkling clean, he and Eliza dismissed the rest of the staff, saying that they could handle any last drinks and the locking up of the restaurant. He sent each of his new employees home with leftovers, and when his friends and family finally called it a night, he was overjoyed to be left alone with Eliza.

  “You hungry?”

  “Famished,” she said with a sigh, reaching up to pull her hair free from its ponytail. “But what a night. That went even better than we hoped.”

  “I agree.” He tried not to stare at her gorgeous brown locks, but all he could think about was how silky smooth they would feel if he reached out and ran his fingers through them. “How about we raid the leftovers for our own dinner and I crack open a bottle of wine to celebrate?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “While that sounds just about perfect, how am I going to ride home or you drive me home if we drink a bottle of wine between us?”

  “Hmm.” He rubbed his jaw as he pondered this problem. Dammit. “How about a glass, then?”

  She chuckled. “A glass sounds like a good idea. Any more and I might fall asleep anyway. Why don’t I grab the wine while you get the food?”

  “Good idea. What do you want?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “What’s left?” Before he could answer, she added, “Actually, surprise me.”

  While Eliza poured the wine, Lachlan went into the kitchen and retrieved two bowls of chili. When he returned, they sat down at a table together and talked over the evening. Although everything had gone even better than they’d hoped for, they agreed on a couple of things to finesse in this week’s training before the second rehearsal next Friday. When Eliza yawned, Lachlan realized that they’d both been working pretty much nonstop since early that morning.

  “Come on,” he said, pushing to a stand. “I’ll drive you home.”

  He didn’t want to—although physically exhausted, he could happily spend all night talking to her—but she didn’t object and together they loaded their plates into the dishwasher, then locked up and headed out into the night.

  “What should I bring to your mom’s place on Sunday?” she asked as they climbed out of his truck at her apartment block and headed around to the truck’s bed to retrieve her bike. This had become a nightly ritual but he suddenly realized that once the restaurant was properly opened, their late-night cooking lessons would likely come to an end and he didn’t want them to.

  “Just yourself,” he said as he held the bike toward her. “There’s always enough food to feed a small country.”

  She chuckled as she reached out to take the bike and once again their hands touched in the interaction. Their gazes collided—her dark eyes glittered in the moonlight, her lips parted slightly and he felt the connection like a physical jolt.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice low. “For bringing me and my bike home again.”

  “Any time,” he replied and then, before he could think
the ramifications through, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. What started as a tentative brush across her mouth, what could have almost been a platonic kiss good-night between friends, turned serious very quickly when she kissed him back. As her tongue slipped into his mouth, muscles all over his body tightened and his heart went into overdrive.

  He took his hands off the bike and lifted them to her face, cradling her cheeks in his palms as he deepened the kiss. Eliza let out a little moan of pleasure and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

  A little voice in his head told him that they should take this inside, that at any moment either of his sisters might glance out the window and become an unwitting spectator. It seemed that Eliza was thinking the same thing, for she pulled back and looked up into his eyes.

  His heart halted as he waited for her to speak. Had he misread the signs? Perhaps she hadn’t enjoyed that kiss as much as he did?

  But then she opened those beautiful lips again and whispered, “Do you want to come inside?” Her tone and the expression on her face made it crystal clear what she was offering.

  It was all he could do not to shriek for joy. That pesky little voice from earlier tried telling him that maybe he should decline—that sleeping with an employee was quite possibly the worst thing he could do—but his desire for Eliza was stronger than anything else. For two weeks, he’d barely been able to think about anything but kissing her and now that he had, there was nothing he wanted more than to do so again.

  “I’d love to,” he said, reluctantly dropping his hands from her face so he could take the bike from her grasp and lean it up against the wall.

  After that, no more words were necessary. Eliza offered him her hand and he took it happily, his pulse racing as she led him into the building. They grinned conspiratorially at each other as they tiptoed past his sisters’ apartment and he felt like a kid about to do something very, very naughty.

  But he couldn’t wait and thanked the Lord for the just-in-case condom in his wallet.

  Chapter Nine

  Eliza knew she’d been playing with fire all these late nights she’d been spending with Lachlan but until he’d kissed her, she’d deluded herself into believing that the attraction she felt was one-sided. She’d ignored the way he sometimes looked at her and the way such a look spread heat from her core right down to her toes, telling herself it was all in her imagination. She’d even deluded herself that if such attraction were mutual and if he ever made a move, she’d be able to resist him on the grounds that they worked together and it wasn’t a good idea.

  But the moment she’d felt his lips on hers, she’d known she was a lost cause. She couldn’t push him away if her life depended on it and neither did she want to.

  Adrenaline raced through her body now as she fumbled to find her key in her purse. She shoved it in the lock and pushed open the door. The moment they were inside, Lachlan kicked it shut behind them. Eliza managed to switch on the hall light before her purse and key dropped from her grasp.

  They reached for each other again, his hands drawing her face to his, and hers finding their way around his back and sliding up under his shirt. His bare skin was hot and smooth beneath her touch and her mouth watered at the thought of licking it.

  She honestly didn’t know what had come over her but standing here in her tiny hallway kissing him wasn’t nearly enough. As if Lachlan could feel her desperation in her kiss, his hands started to wander. As one thumb teased the skin at her décolletage, the other went lower, gently and teasingly skimming over her breasts.

  Fire lit within her—she felt as if she might combust if she didn’t feel his hands on her skin. More daring than she’d ever been before, she ripped her hands from beneath his shirt and started undoing the buttons of her own.

  She wanted everything and anything he could give her.

  As if encouraged by her wantonness, Lachlan’s lips followed in the path of his hands, dropping tiny kisses along her neckline that caused her skin to gooseflesh. Heat pooled between her legs and her heart rate went crazy as he expertly unclasped her bra and replaced it with his hands instead.

  “You’re incredible, so beautiful,” he whispered, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. His words made her feel alive, and when he took one nipple into his mouth, she cried out. The pleasure shot through her, right to her core and her knees buckled.

  Lachlan was right there to catch her, one arm sliding around her back and holding her close to his lovely, hard chest.

  “Which way to the bedroom?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, exactly as she imagined sex would sound if it spoke.

  Unable to speak, she thrust her head in the right direction and squealed as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into her bedroom like she weighed nothing more than a silk scarf. Her curtains still open from that morning, the moonlight sneaked in and fell across the bed, giving them enough light to make their way to it without switching one on.

  They tumbled onto the bed together, legs tangling as their lips sought each other once again. Her hands scrambled for his shirt, but chef’s whites weren’t the easiest to remove in the near dark while on the brink of sexual satisfaction.

  “Help me,” she moaned. “I want to feel your skin.”

  Lachlan sat up, his knees on either side of her hips, his body hovering just above her as he whipped off his upper layers.

  Had she ever seen anything so intoxicating as this gorgeous man doing as she’d begged?

  She reached out her hand to touch him. More slowly, enjoying the anticipation now that what she wanted was within reach. She felt his quick intake of breath as her fingers glided down his chest, following the arrow of hair to the top of his trousers. Her hand covered the bulge beneath and her insides tingled as she touched him through the material. He felt so good and she could only imagine how much better he would feel inside her.

  “Take them off,” she demanded.

  Slightly groaning as if trying to control himself, Lachlan lifted her hand from his groin and shook his head. “You first,” he said. Then, he sat up, ripped off her shoes and yanked her trousers and panties down her legs in one swift move.

  Self-consciousness about being fully naked in front of him lasted only seconds, because then he was back, his body stretched out over the top of hers like a warm blanket she wanted to enfold herself in. She could feel his erection against the apex of her thighs and she pressed herself upward, instinct taking over as she rocked herself against him.

  He pushed himself up on his arms and swore as he gazed down at her. “Eliza, you do any more of that and this will be over in seconds. Let me take care of you first.”

  And take care of her he did.

  With those words, he claimed her mouth again with his, but this time, his fingers trekked far lower than they had before, sliding between her legs and touching her where it mattered most. He stroked her gently at first, but then the intensity increased as he pushed his finger deeper and circled her bud.

  She felt her core tightening, her whole body going still as the pleasure built within her. As if that wasn’t maddening enough, he tore his lips from hers and dipped his head, once again twirling his tongue around her nipple and then sucking it right into his mouth. It was almost embarrassing how quickly her first orgasm rolled through her, her body shaking and her inner muscles shuddering against his touch.

  It had been so long since she’d felt such intense physical relief. The man had magic fingers but she needed, she wanted more. Barely able to move due to the sensations flooding her body, somehow she voiced her desire.

  “Lachlan. You’re killing me. Please, take off your trousers. I need you.”

  He looked up from where he’d been pleasuring her breasts and grinned around her nipple. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

  “Just a sec.”

  And then he pushed up from her again an
d treated her to a one-man revue as he unbuckled his belt, then shucked his shoes, socks, trousers and underwear in what had to be world-record time. He was a good-looking man fully clothed, but standing at the edge of her bed, moonlight dappling over his bare skin, he was simply glorious.

  Lachlan seemed far too busy to go to the gym, so she wondered what he did to get such lovely muscles. She couldn’t help gaping at his impressive erection, but she didn’t have time to stare or wonder for long.

  He stooped and picked his trousers up off the floor. For one horrifying moment, she thought he’d changed his mind and was going to put them back on, but relief flooded her when he pulled out his wallet and conjured a little square foil packet instead. As he ripped it open with his teeth and sheathed himself quickly, she silently thanked the Lord that Lachlan had the forethought to think about it, when she’d almost lost her head.

  And then he was back on the bed beside her, taking her in his arms, kissing her like their lives depended on it and making her hot all over again. This time, it was Eliza who slipped her hand between them, moved it lower and wrapped it around his long, hard shaft. She squeezed a little, tentatively at first, but when it grew even more beneath her touch, her own desire took over.

  She lifted her hips a little, nudged her entrance with his erection and then hooked her legs up around his back. He plunged inside, not needing any more encouragement, driving deep into her, his hands pressed against the mattress, their eyes glued on each other as he brought them both quickly to release.

  It might only have been missionary sex—boring sex, as Tyler used to say—but nothing felt ordinary about this connection. Banishing Tyler from her head, she cried out as her second orgasm in what felt like a matter of minutes rocked through her, the pleasure so strong she thought she might combust.

 

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