Different Tastes (The Alexanders Book 7)

by Tina Martin

  Releasing her arm, he said, “Now, can you please allow me to drive you to the restaurant.”

  “Coastal Creations. I remember now, and yes, you can drive us there.”

  Again, he opened the door for her and got comfortable in the driver’s seat.

  Looking at the GPS on her phone, Tamera proceeded to tell him where to turn and how far they had before arriving – only a few minutes. When they turned into the parking lot, Preston found a close parking stall then shifted the car in park, shutting the engine off.

  “That wasn’t a bad drive. We’re only a few miles away from the hotel.”

  “Yep.”

  “Got your lil’ notebook ready?”

  She smiled. “Yes. I have it.”

  “Then I think we’re ready,” he said, looking at her. “I’ll come around and get the door for you.”

  “Okay.”

  She failed at hiding a smile. When was the last time she had a man open a door for her? Her ex-husband used to, but that was long ago before they’d married. Gestures as such usually faded away once the period of infatuation wore off – the phase in a relationship when the man realized his woman was just another woman. Or maybe that’s the type of man she needed to avoid – a man who thought she was ordinary. Is that why Mark beat her? She wasn’t good enough for him? He didn’t see her worth? Only saw her as ordinary?

  * * *

  Inside the restaurant of antiquated, wooden floors and picnic benches for tables, Preston sat across from her and asked, “What do you know about this place?”

  “Not much,” she said, placing her notebook on the table. She took out her phone, too. Opting not to use her expensive camera this time, she’d utilize her phone’s camera.

  Looking amused, Preston said, “Only you would roll up to a place you know nothing about and write a review.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” she asked, glancing up at him, then looked back down at her notebook, jotting down the name of the restaurant.

  Review notes for Coastal Creations

  -Seafood

  -Nags Head, NC (Outer Banks)

  -Must try crab cakes

  “It’s crazy. That’s what’s wrong with it,” Preston said. “Usually, there’s something that draws a person to a particular place, like good reviews, a recommendation from a friend, or a dish you’ve been dying to try.”

  “Oh, that’s what you meant. One of my coworkers from the health department told me about this place. We were on the subject of seafood one day and I told her I didn’t like crab cakes, and she said I’d change my tune if I ever had crab cakes from Coastal Creations.”

  “Okay, now I get it,” he said, opening the menu that was already on the table.

  Tamera took a picture of her menu before opening it. She smiled while reading the list of appetizers:

  :::::::::::::::::

  Coastal Creations Appetizers

  Firecracker Crab Dip

  Miniature Crabby Bites

  Calabash Bonanza

  Mackerel Spring Rolls

  Chicken-fried Jumbo Shrimp

  :::::::::::::::::

  She giggled. “How do you make chicken-fried jumbo shrimp?”

  Preston lowered the menu. “You should ask your brother.”

  “Tyson wouldn’t make that.” Tamera placed her menu on the table. “Speaking of Tyson, I finally called to let him know I was here.”

  “Oh yeah?” Preston said, curious if Tyson mentioned the conversation he’d had with him.

  “Yeah. He wants me to come to dinner at his place tomorrow.”

  Bummer. That meant less time he would have with her. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would. He also asked me to invite you.”

  Preston’s eyebrows went up along with his radar. “You two must’ve talked about me in order for him to make that suggestion.”

  “Well, yeah. Sort of. I told him you were here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and he asked me to invite you, so Preston, would you like to join me for dinner at my brother’s house tomorrow night?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  “Good. Now, we can order some crab cakes.”

  When the waitress came by, they placed the order. In addition to the crab cakes, Tamera ordered mackerel spring rolls for an appetizer. Preston asked for a bottle of champagne.

  “Did you know champagne pairs well with crab cakes?” he asked her.

  “I didn’t, but now I know why it’s on the menu. I’ll be sure to include that in my review.” Tamera wrote a note:

  -Champagne goes well with crab cakes

  Preston watched her write. If she was nothing else, she was committed to her assignments.

  “Here are your mackerel spring rolls,” the waitress said.

  “Thank you,” Tamera told her.

  “I’ll be right back with your champagne.”

  Preston reached to take a spring roll and Tamera slapped his hand away. “Wait. I have to take a picture first.”

  “Oh. Right.” He smirked, watching her snap pictures. Around the same time, the waitress brought the bottle of champagne he’d ordered with two glasses, then hurried away. “Is now a good time?” he asked. “My mouth is watering.”

  “Sure. Have at it, and tell me what your first thoughts are after tasting it.”

  He dipped it in some sauce and took a huge bite. He chewed. Nodded. “Delicious,” he finally said. “I think the onions help to bring out the flavor. Try one.”

  Tamera took one of the spring rolls, put it on her plate, cut it in half then took another picture. She picked up a half, held it in front of her nose and said, “Sure smells good. What kind of sauce is that?”

  “Just try it, Tamera. Go for it.” So she went for it while he poured champagne into their glasses. “Wow! These are good.” She scribbled a note:

  -Mackerel spring rolls are delicious. Looks like they’re deep-fried in egg roll wrappers. The onions and the shrimp sauce makes the flavor pop.

  “Why did you have to write that down? The brain is good at remembering smells and tastes.”

  “This is just the way I do things.”

  “The old fashioned way, huh? That’s how they operate at Charlotte Magazine?”

  “No. That’s how I operate. I honestly don’t know how they operate. I never have to go there. I do all my work from home.”

  “Is that stressful? I mean, you already have a stressful day job, and then you have to summon enough energy to come home at night and write something worth reading.”

  She smiled softly. “I know. It is hard sometimes, but since I feel like it’s my only shot at being an actual writer, I don’t want to give it up. It’ll be like giving up on a dream.”

  “You definitely shouldn’t do that.”

  “Here you are, folks,” the waitress said. “Our famous crab cakes. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” Tamera told her. She grabbed her phone again, took pictures then said, “Let’s dig in.”

  She picked up a fork, using it to slice one of the crab cakes in half, then brought it to her mouth.

  Preston examined her for a reaction. “Good?”

  She held her left hand in front of her mouth when she responded, “Amazingly good.”

  He took a bite and chewed for a few seconds. “I think these may be the best crab cakes I’ve ever had.”

  “I’ll have to tell my coworker she was right. If we weren’t going to Tyson’s for dinner tomorrow, we would be right here again.”

  His eyes lit up. “So if we didn’t have plans tomorrow, you would’ve wanted to spend the day with me, anyway.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  He laughed. “Oh, yes it is. But it’s fine. I would want to spend the day with you, too.”

  Tamera glanced up at him while taking a sip of champagne, enjoying how the taste blended with the crab cakes. Preston was right about pairing the two.

  “Can I ask you something, Tamera?”
<
br />   “Sure.”

  “What happened when you were in the car?”

  She smiled uncomfortably. “It was nothing. I just…I have a thing about being alone with a man.”

  “What kind of thing?”

  “It’s sort of personal.”

  Preston grimaced and took a sip of wine. He had to get her to talk about it somehow. Tyson had told him a little about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her ex-husband, but he wanted to hear it directly from her.

  “Personal?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take a guess, then.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “You used to be married, right?”

  She stared at him for a long time. Had she told him that? Maybe. She couldn’t remember. “Yes.”

  “So you don’t have a fear of men, and I know it’s not a fear of me. In fact, Tamera, I know you’re attracted to me. So why does it bother you when we’re alone? When it’s just me and you?”

  She blinked rapidly, then took a sip of champagne. “Um…” She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming. The fact was, he was right. She was attracted to him. That attraction had pushed her away – made her put up walls. Falling in love again wasn’t in her plans. She’d tried at love and failed at it.

  “Tamera.” He said her name softer than a whisper.

  She looked up at him, held his gaze. Breaking silence, she said, “We agreed to be friends. Nothing more. I didn’t come here for a weekend fling, Preston. That’s not who I am.”

  “Whoa…wait a minute. That’s not what I’m implying, and that’s not what I want. I’m simply asking you why it bothers you when we’re alone together. I’ve never tried to put the moves on you, kiss you or nothing of the sort. But you’re still fidgety and anxious around me and you can’t hold eye contact with me for longer than a few seconds. Tell me why?”

  “Excuse me for a minute,” Tamera said, pushing away from the table and standing, heading towards the restrooms.

  Preston dropped his head. He’d pressed her too hard, and she couldn’t handle it.

  Again.

  He doubted if she would return to finish her meal. He drank the rest of his champagne and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to return.

  Five minutes later, he placed his elbows on the table, blew a breath and buried his face in his hands. He fought himself from walking to the bathrooms, knocking on the door and finding out where she was and if she was okay. When he heard the sound of someone near the table, he looked up just in time to see her sitting down again. Her eyes were filled with sadness. For a moment, he was too shocked to say a word. Was he the source of her tears?

  “Tamera, if I—”

  “Don’t apologize. Just let me say this. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this but, yes, I was married,” she said with trembling lips and an unsteady voice. “I was married to a man I was in love with. A man I trusted. And, he…he beat me. There. Now you know. I have a complex around men because the one who said he loved me ended up abusing me and because of it, I have trust issues. I have baggage. I have nightmares,” she said, and a tear fell from her eye. She quickly brushed it away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She grinned a little. “Nothing for you to apologize for, but—”

  “I’m apologizing because I feel like I pushed you to tell me this, and it wasn’t my goal to ruin your night.”

  “You didn’t ruin my night, Preston. I actually feel a little better getting this off of my chest.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” she said, using her fork to slice the remaining crab cake.

  “Not all men are like that, you know,” he felt he needed to say.

  “I know.”

  “I’m definitely not.”

  She smiled. “I know that, too.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve been separated?”

  “I’m divorced, and it’s been four years. In those four years, I’ve had other prospects, but I’m extra picky nowadays. I don’t want to go down another path of false hopes and promises leading to nowhere. I mean, my ex showered me with gifts and was the perfect gentleman. Then, after we married, he felt like I became his property or something. To this day, I don’t get it. I just remember trying to hide my bruises with makeup and keep the abuse hidden from my parents and my brother. I was ashamed. I’m a grown woman and I was scared to let people know I was being abused.”

  Preston frowned as he watched her eat.

  “So there you have it. My sob story.” She took a sip of champagne. “What’s funny is, I try so hard to be this strong, independent woman who people look up to and respect, but I didn’t have enough respect for myself to end an abusive relationship.”

  “But you did. Eventually.”

  “No, I didn’t. My brother saw a bruise on my face and asked me what happened. I couldn’t lie anymore so I told him. He is the one who protected me from my ex. He’s the reason I’m free of him.”

  “Well I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me, Tamera, and I’ll try to make you feel as comfortable as possible from now on. In fact, if you want to skip the beach tonight, I’m completely okay with it.”

  “No, I don’t want to skip it. I want to go.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  Chapter 16

  With her hands interlocked with his, their bare feet touching cool, damp sand, Tamera swayed side-to-side with Preston, dancing and feeling more relaxed than she felt with a man in a long time. She’d opened up to him about her abusive past and he’d listened to every word, even offered some comforting words of his own.

  Preston had arranged for the hotel to set up a spot for them on the beach, complete with a small pit fire, tent, champagne and dessert. There were other tents set up along the way, spaced evenly for privacy. Waves tousled in the background. The night couldn’t have been more perfect.

  “This is nice,” Tamera said, releasing his hands so she could wrap her arms around him and press her head flat against his chest. With his shirt unbuttoned, she could feel the warmness of his skin while his chest hair tickled the side of her face, causing her stomach to tighten with need. She missed this closeness. Missed being comfortable in a man’s arms.

  He could feel things too – like the sensations that ran through him – ones of anger at first – at the thought of a man hitting her. But then he felt an overpowering feeling – a strong need to protect this woman who’d stolen his heart. With her in his arms like this, he could see a future with her. He could and would protect her and love her like she deserved to be loved.

  “I have a confession to make, Preston.”

  “What is it?”

  “I am attracted to you.”

  A playful grin touched his lips. “Didn’t it feel good to admit that?”

  She blushed while grinning. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “I’m just teasing. You already know I’m attracted to you. I was from the first time I saw you.”

  “Stop lying.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’m serious.”

  “Even in my solid color business skirt suit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even after I wrote that review about your sister’s restaurant?”

  “Hey,” he said pulling away from her so he could see her face. With his index finger, he gently nudged her head up so she was looking at him. “We said we wouldn’t discuss that.”

  “You’re right.”

  “But in answer to your question, yes, even still.”

  The intensity of his gaze had her cheeks turning a shade. Her eyes rolled down to his lips and she watched them move when he said, “Don’t even think about kissing me.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I wasn’t. I haven’t kissed anyone in years. I probably don’t even know how to do it anymore.”

  “I doubt that very seriously.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I do. With the
right person and the right set of lips, anything is possible.”

  “You think so?” she asked, staring up into his eyes.

  “I know so,” he said, his hand settling at the base of her neck as he stared at lips he desperately wanted to kiss.

  “You want to test the water?” she asked to take the heat of his eyes off of her lips.

  He nibbled on his bottom lip. Yes, he wanted to test the water, but not the ocean. He wanted to test his limits with her. She had baggage. Not something ideal for a woman to have when he thought of pursuing a relationship with her, but for Tamera, he’d make an exception. She had just cause to have baggage.

  “Yes,” he finally answered her. Leading her to the shoreline by the hand, they stepped into the water’s edge.

  “Ooh…it’s much cooler tonight,” Tamera said. “I know it’s warmer in the day due to the sun and all, but I didn’t expect it to be this cold.”

  “You say cold, I say refreshing. It is muggy out here,” he said, still holding her hand. Turning to her and taking her other hand inside of his, he said, “I know coming here with me tonight was a stretch after all you’ve been through. I just want to say, thank you for opening up to me about your past. And thank you for being here.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for being understanding, Preston.”

  He released her hands, then reached to rest his hands on the sides of her face.

  Tamera cringed. The last time a man’s hands were on her face, it was to strike her. But Preston’s hands framed her face delicately like she was a fragile piece of sacred art. For what seemed like an eternity, she held his vision, realizing what he was doing. He was giving her time to get used to his touch. Giving her body time to settle.

  He smiled when he realized it had. At least, a little. He felt the soft gasps hum from between her lips. Before he knew the words had left his mouth, he said, “How could someone hurt a sweet, beautiful woman like you? You deserve so much more than the hand you were been dealt, sweetheart.”