by Edie Ramer
“I talked to Rosa.” He took the drink from her outstretched hand. “She said to put this one up and see how it goes before filming any more. I doubt one short video will do it. I’d rather film more. You really don’t need her permission.”
“Maybe not, but I want it. Rosa isn’t normally cautious.” Katie sat on the other end of the sofa, holding her own rum and cola drink. “Everything in her life is changing, and it makes her nervous. She’s used to a rhythm in her days, and that rhythm is broken.”
“She called me the day she left her husband, ready to forge ahead.”
Katie shrugged. “Life doesn’t add up like sums all in a row. Life adds up sideways. Like a recipe. You add this and that, and then you think how much wonderful another flavor would do inside. And it’s like magic.”
“She should listen to me. My idea is the magic ingredient.”
“Maybe what’s magic for you isn’t magic for Rosa.” A small frown line creased Katie’s forehead. “She watched the cooking shows for years, and I think it’s been festering inside her that if she had the chance, she could do it as well as the other chefs. And she could.” She nodded sharply. “In fact, she could do better. “
“It would be a great way to show her husband that’s he’s a fool.”
Katie made a rude sound. “He’s been a fool for many years. The whole village knows it.”
“His kids?”
She looked down, and he could practically see invisible barriers shoot up around her. “It’s hard having a parent that behaves badly.”
“You sound like you know something about it.”
“It was a long time ago. My mom had...problems. I’ve lived with my dad since I was almost six, and I’m okay now.” She gave him a tight smile. “We were talking about Rosa. She’s afraid to change her dream. She doesn’t know anything about videos. She’s probably afraid it will be too much for her and she won’t have any control.”
“Everyone is afraid. Everyone worries they won’t have control. Everyone is concerned that it might be too much for them.”
“Even you?”
“When I was a kid, I almost died.” He frowned. Now they’d reached his discomfort zone. “Something like that, it makes you feel you must be here to do big things.”
“Yet here you are in a small village.”
“This is temporary. I’m not staying here.”
“I keep forgetting you’re leaving soon.” She looked down at her hands folded on her lap. “Two of Katie’s boys are here. Her oldest is at a culinary school in New York. The second works in the restaurant she and her husband started. The third was working for him but quit when he found out what his father did.”
“Good for him.”
Katie nodded. “As long as Rosa’s two sons are here, she won’t leave. And unlike me, she’s ambitious. She outdoes me by about one hundred to one. Compared to her, I’m a slacker.”
“That’s not true,” he said.
She gave him a sharp glance. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not the kind of guy that just says things.”
“When men want something, they all turn into that kind of guy.”
He wanted to laugh but what she said was too close to the truth. He rested his arm on top of the backrest, his fingers about two inches from her hair. “What do you think I want?”
“The video.”
“I didn’t have to come here for that. Not tonight.”
Her expression looked trapped. She picked up her drink, brought the rim of the glass to her mouth, sipped, then put it on the coffee table again and turned to face him, her chin raised defiantly. “You’re a man and I’m not. I’d say you want the usual.”
“Affection,” he said.
“Sex,” she said, and her defiant look morphed into an I-dare-you-to-lie glare.
A smile built inside his chest. “Connection with another person.”
“Sex,” she said, her glare lightening.
The smiled widened. “Companionship.”
“Sex,” she said, and now her eyes laughed at him.
Exhilaration fizzed inside him. He slid over to the middle cushion. “Affection,” he repeated.
“Sex.” Her voice turned raspy.
He slid his arm around her shoulders, watching her face carefully. As if she were a bird who might fly away any second.
Like a bird in a pair of hands, she trembled. Then she looked into his eyes. Her face softened. With a sigh, she seemed to melt against him, boneless, like Alice sliding down into Wonderland.
He leaned forward to catch her mouth with his and felt himself sliding, too. Sliding into her embrace. Sliding into her kiss. Mouth to mouth. Tongue to tongue. Chest to chest.
He held her tight, as if to keep them from slipping away from each other. Because what they were doing was a slippery thing, and anything could happen. The worst and the best.
She tasted like rum and smelled like vanilla. He wanted to lick her skin and see if it would taste as good as she smelled. Taste like pie. A Katie pie.
He moved down from her mouth, giving her small kisses along her jaw. She wrapped her arms around his neck and made small noises as he kissed down to her throat, his mouth above her pulse. She seemed so clean and so fresh. So pure in her heart and soul. But the way he felt right now was anything but pure.
She made a protesting sound and jerked away from him. Breathing heavily, she put her hands on her cheeks. “I told you that you wanted sex.”
His mind howled. Howled loudly like a dog that had lost his nice, chewy bone. “What about you? What do you want?”
Chapter Thirteen
The silence stretched out too long, and her mind was blank. She needed a pie to answer this, but sometimes pie wasn’t enough. Sometimes she needed more. Arms. A hard body. The thrust and pull of a man. Sometimes the need came upon her like the need for a lemon meringue pie, normally one of her least favorite pies, so overwhelming she felt she would die if she didn’t get it.
And then when she did eat a piece, she would think That’s all? That’s it?
That’s how men were for her. Every time.
The need was once again drawing her back to Gabe. All her body cared about was that it wanted him with an overwhelming hunger, the way a vampire wanted blood. If she didn’t satisfy that sexual hunger, her soul would starve.
Yet after she had it, she was always left with a bitter taste in her mouth. Sex stopped the ache of the hunger, but it never satisfied her half as much as a plain apple pie like Gram used to make. Sex was always a disappointment.
While pie...well, pie never disappointed.
“Love?” he asked, staring at her. “Is that what you want?
Her heart thumped. Love? No! For one thing, he was leaving. And just the thought of leaving Miracle made her feel sick and lost and scared.
Even if he weren’t leaving, she hardly knew him.
She stood. Her hands shook. Her body shook. As though an earthquake had traveled through the village when she wasn’t looking.
“Not love. I just want you,” she whispered, knowing when push came to shove—or man came to woman—it would be no different than the other times. But the knowledge didn’t matter. Her body was in charge, and it was demanding this. Like a child having a tantrum in the grocery store, the hunger was voracious. Demanding. Taking over her mind and body. Probably because it had been unfed for too long. A sexual starvation. That’s why she felt if she couldn’t have him she would die.
“You’re killing me,” he said.
Oh God, she knew how he felt. “Then let me heal you.”
He froze for an instant, looking at her as if she were a witch. It felt as if the world stopped for that instant. “I swear you told me that before.”
“In your dreams?”
He shook his head, and the heat in his face lessened, his brow furrowed as though figuring out a math equation.
She could give him a math equation. One man plus one woman equaled pretty damn good fun.<
br />
Or at least it would get rid of the soul-itching need that shouted so loudly, Feed me! Feed me now!
“You should be the star in a video,” she said. “Not me.”
“Why?”
“You’re...mesmerizing. You’re like the sun.”
He smiled slowly. Warming his face and eyes like the slow fire burning inside her. “Right now I feel as hot as the sun.”
“So what are we going to do about all this heat?” she whispered.
“This,” he said. His eyes lighting up even brighter, he took her hands in his and pulled her down onto his lap so she faced him, her knees spread on either side of his thighs. Their lips met, melded, loved.
Small sounds came out of her mouth and their upper bodies came together. His hands slid under her top and up her back. She murmured with satisfaction. Her skin loved the contact, the warmth of his palms and fingers making her nerve ends purr.
With a twist of his body, he toppled her onto the couch with her thighs still around him. Then he was on top of her, pressing down on her most sensitive spot as he kissed her again and again. She squirmed and pressed her hips up, wanting more. Much more.
She wanted everything.
His hands continued their caressing. Slipping up the sides of her ribcage and onto her breasts.
Small whimpers came out of her mouth. She pressed her hips up more and held on tight. If she kept this up, she would explode soon. Explode into a thousand pieces.
Then his lips left hers and she felt lost, disoriented. He rained small kisses down her face, then down her neck, and now she felt found. Wonderfully, amazingly found.
“I want to kiss every inch of your body,” he murmured.
She moaned in need. She moaned in agony. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushed him up and away, though he resisted.
“Now,” she said. “I want you now.”
His face stilled and then tensed. He rolled off her, standing on the carpet. Without a word, he unsnapped and unzipped his jeans. As if in an erotic dream, she slid from the sofa then pulled off her clothes. Usually neat, she tossed her pants and top onto the carpet. Her bra landed on the coffee table. Her panties on the chair across the room.
They both stood there, and she looked him up and down and tried not to think he looked better than she did. But it was the truth. His legs, arms and chest were leanly muscled. Though he didn’t have a six pack, his stomach was flat. His package... Her breath sucked in, and her skin heated. No complaints there.
But more than anything else, his skin gleamed golden, making him look like a statue come to life.
Almost afraid, she reached out and touched his arm. “It feels real,” she whispered.
He put his hand over hers. His blue eyes blazed. “It’s all real.” He drew her hand down over his hard pectoral muscle, his nipple drawing a line on her palm. The contact sent a current through her arm and downward.
Her hand went downward, too. Down over his ribcage, down over the flat stomach, then down onto his erection that twitched under her hand.
“Does that feel real?” he asked.
She braced her legs to keep from crumbling to the floor. Closing her eyes, she explored him while he explored her. He started with his hand on her shoulder. And then her breast. And then lower, between her legs.
His fingers were magic.
She felt so much and so deeply, she couldn’t contain herself. Her body shook crazily, but still she didn’t stop touching him and he continued to touch her and rub her and touch and rub her some more...
Oh God, oh God, this is wonderful.
Oh God, oh God, never stop.
He stopped. A protest mewled from her mouth, the need inside her raging. Her eyes opened to see him rolling on a condom. All she could think was Thank you, God. Though she suspected God didn’t really have anything to do with this.
Before she could think any more crazy thoughts, Gabe grinned and stepped forward to kiss her again, bending her backward.
Then she was falling, a crazy, wild free-fall, clutching him tightly. They landed on the sofa and he was on top of her, her knees bent to keep her feet from dangling over the sofa arms.
“Are you ready?” he asked and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, were melting her. Everything about him was melting her, as if she were caramel about to drizzle onto crisp slices of apples.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
He entered her laughing. A triumphant, glorious laugh. That same triumph swelled inside her. This was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
Immediately he found her G-spot, her joy spot, the fireworks-inside-her spot. She clenched him with her inner muscles and gave a little scream. Once, twice, three times, staring into his glowing eyes as he moved in and out, in and out, sliding along that same wonderful spot. She pushed up and her little scream escalated into a loud scream. Over and over, and it was wonderful, it was fabulous.
Then he collapsed on top of her, grunting and huffing. His skin slick and hot.
She reached up and curled her arms around him, holding him tightly. They remained clasped together. She felt the hammering of his heart, and she knew hers was thumping just as fast and furious. They held on to each other for moments as their thundering hearts slowed and an overwhelming tiredness slugged through her body.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes. It was like a fairy tale come true... Only it wasn’t a prince she’d just made love with.
“You’re my angel,” she murmured. “My angel Gabriel.”
Chapter Fourteen
The sleeping dog snored softly and the sleeping woman curled on the sofa moaned in her sleep. Gabe stood by the sofa, his clothes on now but not ready to leave yet. It felt too right being here in this small house in this tiny village with this one woman. At the same time, the rightness unsettled him. He was a big city boy, and he had big city boy plans. This was a temporary place, a one-time gig.
A long sigh came from Katie, and it echoed the unspoken sigh in his mind.
“Shh.” He tucked the throw he’d grabbed from the chair around her, as if she were a child.
Not that he’d imagined she was a child when he made love to her. But in his mind he saw a girl child. Thin and serious with brown hair, big eyes and a big heart.
He’d always thought it was her big heart that had kept him from dying.
If Katie was that girl.
He sat in the chair and watched her still profile. He didn’t know how much time passed before he slowly stood. Slowly made his way through the kitchen to the back door. He locked it before he headed to the car where he slowly backed up.
His entire drive to the motel was spent in a state of suspension. Thoughts of was she? and what if she was? tumbled in his mind like rolled dice.
Inside the motel room, he got out his cell phone but hesitated before calling his mother. She didn’t like to think of that time, the way many war veterans didn’t like to think of the bullets that just missed them. She’d been so afraid. She never talked about it without saying, “It’s all behind us now, thank God.” And always with a fearful glance over her shoulder. As if death, a black shadowy beast, could jump up and steal him away if she weren’t vigilant.
It wasn’t ten yet and she’d probably be reading one of her romances, something she had in common with Katie. The phone connected and she answered on the second ring, sounding happy to talk to him. She talked about his stepfather and half-sisters while he sat on the end of the bed, the mattress giving.
“Are you back in Chicago?” she asked finally. “Come for dinner on Sunday.”
“I’m still in Wisconsin.”
“Not for long, I hope. You’ve been helping your friends for too many years. It’s time you got on with your career.”
“Mom, this isn’t a friend, it’s a client. I’m getting paid for this. It’s part of my career.”
“It’s a job. You’re building for them, not for you. If you went to L.A. today, none of those wedding videos would help you. Nor a cooking video. You may as w
ell dig ditches.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t Mom me. First you’re in Africa building a hospital—for three years. I was scared every night.” Her voice rose. “You came back...different. And you end up being Cherise’s go-to guy.”
“It was a paying job.” He grimaced. His mom had him there. Had him everywhere. Right now he didn’t regret the hospital. Not with all the images of the happy-crying-laughing faces on the final project. The eyes bright with hope. That was something he was proud of. In his old age, he’d look at his copy of the finished movie and think, I helped do a good thing.
But along with the hopeful faces, he’d seen hopelessness. He’d seen cruelty. He’d seen earthquakes and floods that some of the Africans said were sent from the devil.
And most of all, he’d seen the worst that people could do to each other.
It broke his spirit.
The nine months estimate to build the hospital had taken three years. The healing of his spirit had taken longer.
“I never meant to stay with Cherise so long,” he said, answering the only part he could.
“She was so needy. Always with a hard luck story. Don said she knew how to play you.”
Gabe frowned. He hadn’t stayed because of Cherise’s hard luck stories. He’d stayed because he didn’t care. He was skating by in life, and he used her as much as she used him.
“I knew what I was doing. She knew what she wanted.”
“Yes, she wanted you.” A mama lion ferociousness sharpened her voice. She sounded ready to attack anyone who interfered with her children. Even when the child was thirty years old.
“Stop worrying, she’s out of the picture. I’m coming back to Chicago soon.”
