They’d had sex before.
They’d had amazing sex before.
That was not this. This was not just sex. It felt less like something carnal and more like a promise.
This time, there was no driving into her, pulling out nearly all the way, and then taking her over and over. This time, Eli’s strokes were slow, measured, lazy. His mouth was on hers, mimicking there what he was doing below.
Her arms gripped his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, and with ankles hooked, she held on to him with everything she had.
This build took less time, but when the wave took over, Marlee continued holding on to Eli. Knowing he would catch her when she landed.
And when he met her there, his own orgasm overtaking him, everything in the world righted itself—like they’d just been tilted and then everything was fine. He fell against her, his weight pressing her into the memory foam.
Her heart swelled.
They’d be okay.
She pressed a kiss to the dark hair at the crown of his head. She fiddled with the hair at his temples, both of them sated. Neither saying a word.
Still inside her, he lifted himself onto his forearms, gazing at her like she was chocolate cake filled with fudge icing and vanilla crème.
This was the moment. He needed to know about their baby. What they’d made together without even trying.
“Eli—”
He cut her off with a kiss.
It was a good kiss.
An after-sex, he’s-still-inside-me kiss.
She wanted to lay like this with him forever, but he had to know. “Eli—”
He tickled the tip of his nose against hers. A move that was so gentle and silly, it seemed out of place after the intensity of what they’d done and totally normal. It wasn’t the Eli everyone else got. This was the Eli who was only for her.
“Is what you’re about to say gonna piss me off?” he asked.
Well… “Maybe.”
“Then don’t say it.” He kissed her again, withdrew, dealt with the condom, and then settled next to her. He rolled her to him, fitting her body against his like it was made only for that purpose.
She didn’t say it.
Perhaps going all Scarlett O’Hara on the situation made the most sense. Gone with the Wind and “Tomorrow is another day.” That worked out okay for Scarlett. Mostly. Okay, it hadn’t really worked out at all for her.
Maybe it’d be different for Marlee.
Chapter Twenty
Eli had never been good with words. They’d always eluded him when he needed them most, so last night with Marlee, he’d used every other part of him to show her how he felt. Every sensation he could use to bring out the feelings in her that she did in him. How he was feeling about her. The way she was shifting his perception of the life he thought he wanted and bringing in sunshine when he didn’t even realize he’d been in the dark.
And it scared the shit out of him.
He needed to get to work early for the big gala. That’s why he was going to slip out of bed early that morning to head to his kitchen. The only reason why.
With that plan in mind, he wasn’t entirely sure why he kissed Marlee good morning.
Okay, so he kissed her good morning because she was Marlee and she was in his bed and they’d had sex that spoke volumes.
Marlee’s eyes fluttered open. He recognized the moment the fog of sleep drifted away and she knew he was him, and she was her, and it wasn’t a dream.
And she smiled. She fuckin’ smiled.
“My turn,” she said, voice husky from sleep.
Eli needed to get to work. He had a boatload of food to prepare for the day. He was going to be on a graveyard staff and needed to figure out the logistics of what that meant for the evening.
Marlee rolled him onto his back, her palms pressed against his pecs.
He let her.
He had work to do, sure. He was also many things—an idiot not included. Marlee pressed her lips along the column of his neck, down to his collarbone.
His blood heated, nerves fired, throat went dry. She licked his nipple.
The breath he inhaled was filled with Marlee’s scent.
She reached below the sheet, wrapping her palm around the length of him.
Annnnd he was about yay-far from blowing his load before they’d even truly started. What he needed to do was get his head in the game. Regain control. Be the one handing out orgasms that morning.
Marlee had other ideas.
And if he were being totally honest? They turned out to be exceptional.
* * *
“I found you helpers,” Marlee singsonged, sauntering through the door of the kitchen at the event center where Eli was presently sweating his ass off trying to pull together an impossible evening. Five more of his servers had called in sick.
The kitchen staff was on a skeleton crew and the waitstaff was pretty much Marlee and his head server—who swore she got her flu shot early. Eli needed to pull off a miracle.
He glanced up from plating what felt like his two-hundredth plate of surf ’n’ turf in about thirty minutes.
Brek, Jase, Dean, Heather, Velma, and Claire all followed Marlee into the kitchen wearing his uniform of black slacks and a white top. Well, Brek’s black jeans were ripped to hell and back, and he had a formfitting white tee that would probably make the event chairwoman go bonkers with the amount of tattoos it showed—he’d be working kitchen staff, Eli decided—but everyone else looked the part of server for his gig.
Then his sister Sadie waltzed through the door like she was supposed to be there.
He couldn’t help the smile spreading across his lips. “Sadie.”
“I hear you got yourself in a pickle.” She marched forward to give him a hug, totally ignoring the fact that she needed to wash her hands before she came any farther into the kitchen.
Still, he hugged her. “You flew five-hundred miles because I needed help serving?”
“No, I flew five-hundred miles to see Marlee. Helping you is just part of my penance for being a brat when I was a kid.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
Then his mom and dad traipsed through the door.
“We’re here,” his mom chimed. “Where are the aprons?”
“Mom.” Eli gave her a definite what-are-you-doing-here look. “Dad.”
“Put us to work,” his dad directed.
And that was that.
Eli divided up the serving responsibilities. His head server was still there, so she took to training Jase, Dean, Claire, Sadie, his mom, and Marlee. Velma and Heather were on kitchen duty since they both were fluent in all things culinary. His dad got kitchen duty because he could be bristly when he didn’t know people. And Brek got kitchen duty because there was no way Eli could put him and his ripped jeans out on the floor at the fundraiser for Denver’s most beloved charities. The Consolidated Means event didn’t raise money for one charity; no, this group went all out and raised money for them all.
Chefs all over the city were willing to drop down on their knees for the chance to cater this shindig. No way was Eli going to blow it.
Everyone found their groove, Eli finished plating, and the ballroom started to buzz loud enough that he could hear it all the way in the kitchen.
The night was going to be fine.
Marlee bolted through the swinging doors of the kitchen, her heels—why the hell had she worn high heels to waitress?—tapping across the tile floor. Click. Tap. Click.
The color was gone from her skin.
“Mar?” he asked.
She waved him away with a flick of her hand, heading straight through the door of the walk-in cooler.
He followed.
“Mar?” A blast of cold air smacked him in the face.
“Mom and Dad are here.” She pressed her palms against her forehead. “They have a whole table for the office, and Scotty brought my ex-friend Brittney as his plus-one.”
Fuck.
“I mean, I kn
ow that I told them to take a flying leap, but I didn’t expect to have to smile and serve them steak while they rub it in my face.” The color was starting to return to her cheeks, a good sign.
“You don’t have to serve.” He tipped his forehead to hers. “We’ll assign someone else.”
That’s when he caught it. The spark that hit her eyes. A fire that he understood meant Scotty, whoever Brittney was, and her parents were in for a show.
She jutted her chin up. “You know what?”
“Bet you’re about to tell me.”
“I’m doing it.” She firmed her shoulders. “And I’m going to have fun doing it.”
As long as that fun didn’t cost him the client, he was good with it.
“I wasn’t expecting them. They don’t like these things, so they never attend. I’ll be good. Promise. But I’m going to go out there and enjoy myself.”
He understood her. Knew she’d do it with the professionalism needed for him to keep the client and the sass that would ensure her parents regretted carting Scotty and his date along with them.
“You want this? It’s yours.” He stroked the sides of her neck with the pads of his thumbs. “You don’t want it? I’ll assign Jase.”
Jase took no shit from anyone.
Then again, pissed-off Marlee didn’t either.
“I want this.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists.
“Then you’ve got this.” He kissed her quickly—he had a buttload of dessert prep to finish so he could get this night over with and get Marlee home and naked underneath him. Or on top. He wasn’t picky.
* * *
Screw. Scotty.
Marlee was about to make a point with a bread basket. She marched through the kitchen, grabbed a basket of rolls, and headed straight for her parents’ table. Tonight, they’d probably be the king and queen of Denver’s elite fundraising community. They’d spend way too much on the auction. And they’d hate, absolutely hate, the idea of their daughter serving them dinner so publicly.
But they were the ones who cut her off.
They could deal.
Carefully, like they were truly important VIPs, Marlee slipped the basket onto the table at Scotty’s left.
“Drop off at the left, remove at the right,” the head waiter had said.
Of course, Scotty, Brittney, and her parents hadn’t noticed she was there. She was one of the faceless servers for the night.
“Enjoy the meal,” she said as brightly as she could.
Her dad startled and glanced at her. He did a double and then a triple take.
“Dad, I think you’ll really like the steak. Eli did an amazing job with it.” She winked at him. “Mom, let me know if you want a refill on the wine.”
“Marlee?” her dad’s business partner, Jim, asked.
Jim was a silent partner, an investor, who never had his own kids, so he’d doted on Marlee when she was younger. He’d never particularly liked Scotty. They had that dislike in common now.
“Hey, Jim.” Like the good server she was, she refilled his water glass. “Let me know if you need anything, too.”
Jim gave a pointed look to Marlee, then the pitcher, then his glass.
“What are you doing?” he asked like she was Lothario and she was hooked to his pant leg.
Her parents and Scotty had gone silent—with shock, she hoped.
“Working.” She filled Scotty’s water glass as well. “Mom and Dad cut off my bank accounts after Scotty dumped me.”
Scotty sucked in an extremely audible breath.
“Leelee,” he said low.
Well, it was true.
“It’s Marlee.” She pointed to her nametag—black matte with white engraving. “And I heard you got some new landscaping.” She pulled a yeesh face. “Orange is an interesting color choice.”
Scotty blanched. Then he got it. She caught the moment he registered it’d been her that did the decorating.
“We need to talk.” He started to stand. He’d placed the swan-folded napkin from his plate across his lap. He tossed it back on the plate.
Jim glared Scotty down. “I’d like to hear more about the breakup. I understood the cancelled wedding was a mutual decision.”
“Oh, it was mutual. After he got done dumping me.” Marlee held the pitcher like it was a dozen roses from the time she had been a finalist for Miss Teen Colorado. “Take me to lunch sometime. I also work over at The Flower Pot in Cherry Creek. You can find me there. I’ll make Janet an arrangement of daisies. She likes daisies, right?”
Janet was his wife. She straight up refused to come to these events.
“I’ll do that.” Jim’s expression was both tense and soft at the same time. How he managed that, Marlee couldn’t know.
“Marlee.” Scotty’s tone was clipped. “A word.”
“We can go to the kitchen.” She glanced over her shoulder to the swinging doors leading to Eli. She shook her head. “But that’s not a good idea. Eli’s in there.” She quickly glanced at Jim. “He’s my husband. You’ll love him. He’s amazing.”
She gave a pointed look to Scotty.
Sadie grabbed Marlee by the elbow. “Hey, Eli said I should check on you. Looks like maybe I should take this table?”
“Good idea.” Marlee started to move aside. “Mom, Dad, you remember Sadie? She’s my attorney.”
“And as her attorney, I’m telling her to stop talking.” Sadie gave Marlee what could only be described as a shut-the-hell-up stare.
“Marlee, honey.” Her mom started to stand. “I think there’s been a very big mistake here.”
“Marlee’s a waitress?” Jim’s glare was equal opportunity between Scotty and her dad. “And her attorney is serving me dinner?”
“I’ve got to get back to work. You all enjoy your fundraiser.” Marlee didn’t flee to the kitchen. There was no need. When Scotty had dumped her, she set out to make a new life. She’d done just that. A life she was proud of. A life with Eli.
So she didn’t escape to hide in the kitchen, she just moved to the next table. Filled the water glasses. Made sure the wine flowed abundantly. And then she did the same with the next, chatting it up with anyone who felt chatty. Sinking into the shadows around the ones who didn’t. She didn’t mind.
Everything was fine.
“Marlee.” Her mom touched her elbow when she was mid-move between tables. “We didn’t know he was bringing someone. It’s very distasteful. Your dad never would have allowed it if he’d known.”
“You picked him.” Marlee met her mother’s eyes and made it perfectly clear how she felt about that. “You picked him over me.”
“No.” Her mom shook her head. “Dad’s transferring him out of Denver. Scotty doesn’t know yet, but we didn’t pick him. He picked us. But, of course, we always pick you.”
“Miss?” A random man at the next table over held up his glass. “We could use a refill.”
She smiled at him and nodded, then focused on her mom. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
She’d process the rest of it later.
Much later.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eli had nearly survived the night. A night he’d worried he’d never make it through. They were at the dessert portion of the evening. From here on out, everything was on autopilot. Things had finally slowed down enough to focus on something other than food. That something being the conversation Jase was having with Dean.
“Heather’s not pregnant.” Jase loaded up a tray of ginger layer cake with poached pears at the wait station set up in the corner of the big ballroom.
“Then who the hell is?” Dean asked, arranging plates on his own tray. “There were a ton of positive pregnancy tests in the trash when I took it out.”
“Claire?” Jase asked.
Given that they were found at Dean’s apartment, Claire seemed to be the top choice.
Dean shook his head. “It’s not us.”
“It’s not Velma.” Brek joined the fray, preparing
a tray for Sadie and one for Marlee.
He stayed behind the table so his ripped jeans weren’t on display. Eli’s dad was right beside him, helping get the next dessert round to the waitstaff.
“You sure?” Dean asked, his eyebrows drawn together.
Brek gave a curt nod. “One hundred percent.”
“Then who the hell is pregnant?” Jase asked, looking around as though the culprit would bounce by any second.
Eli didn’t have spider-like senses. He had caterer senses, and when it came to women, those were total shit. Still, the little hairs on his arms started to raise.
No one said anything, but three pairs of eyes settled on him.
Absolutely not. It couldn’t be Marlee.
“You don’t think…” Jase scanned the room for Marlee.
All four of them tracked her as she served dessert to the table next to her parents.
“Sonofabitch, it’s her.” Brek looked as shocked as Eli felt. “It’s gotta be Marlee.”
“Is it even possible?” Jase asked.
Sadie paused next to Marlee, said something in her ear. Marlee grinned.
Marlee’d been pale that day. Marlee’d had an upset stomach more than once recently.
Marlee was pregnant.
His wife was pregnant, and while they might’ve been smashed beyond all reason the night they got married, they’d used protection. Every time after was way too recent to count, and even those had been protected. They could practically pose for the yes-we-make-bad-decisions-but-we-always-have-safe-sex poster.
But Marlee had been engaged to someone else a month ago. Marlee had lived with that someone else. Eli hadn’t grilled her on their sex life—why would he? But she’d been engaged… Of course, it was possible.
The idea that she was pregnant with Scotty’s kid made Eli want to throw the pears across the room.
The woman of the moment breezed through at that precise moment. They all stared at her.
“What?” she asked, glancing down at her white shirt. “Did I get something on me?”
Take It Off the Menu Page 21
