Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (18 page)

“Does Nat know?”

“Yeah, but unlike you, she gave up on your dad a long time ago.”

“I’m beginning to understand her attitude. He makes it very hard.”

“I’m here if you want to vent. Now changing the subject to a more interesting one, the pictures of the carriage house are unbelievable, but I have to say Avery, that Rafe is sexy.”

“Mom!”

“I might be sixty, but I’m still a hot-blooded American woman and I can appreciate beauty just the same as you and Nat. What’s he like? Nice? Arrogant?”

As much as I wanted to gossip with my mom about Rafe, I had to get to work. “He’s very nice, but I can’t get into that now. I’ve got to get ready for work. I’ll call you later in the week.”

“Knock them dead. We’ll send you some snapshots of the Outer Banks.”

“I’d like that. Tell Harold I said hi.”

“Will do.”

After showering and dressing, I headed to my car eager to get to Clover so I could start prepping for the night’s offerings. Rafe appeared, walking the distance to me.

“Hey, Avery.”

“Morning.”

“You off to work?”

“I am.”

“I’m glad I caught you. I’ve changed the alarm codes for the front gates and the main house. I wanted to make sure you had them. Do you want me to write them down?”

“No, you can just tell me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Working with measurements, I’ve become quite good at remembering numbers.”

He gave me the codes. “I should be home, so call me if you forget.”

“Will do.” I wanted to know why he was changing the codes, but he didn’t seem inclined to tell me. Asking seemed rude. “I’ll see you later.” I started away from him but I didn’t get far before I stopped and looked back at him. He still stood there, hands in his pockets, watching me. “Thanks for coming last night. It meant so much more than you can know.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” But it was the tender look in his eyes that had my heart beating faster. He started for his workshop but called from over his shoulder. “If there are leftovers, bring some home.”

Home. I liked hearing him say that, liked it far more than I should.

My muscles ached; the heat from the shower helped to ease some of the pain. We had a few glitches tonight. The one mixer burned out; Tina had slightly over-cooked the caramel sauce. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but when the meal was upward of several hundred dollars, you didn’t serve slightly scorched caramel sauce with your dark chocolate molten cake. All in all though, it had been another successful and satisfying day. But my back was killing me. On my next day off, I needed to buy more comfortable shoes.

I had just lathered my hair with shampoo when the water temperature went ice-cold. I screamed, the action instinctual because it felt like a thousand little needles stabbing me under the skin. I hadn’t realized how loudly I had screamed until I heard the pounding on my front door, followed quickly with Rafe’s worried voice. Jess’s suggestion came flooding back to me on how I could ensnare my landlord by claiming the water had stopped working while I was in the middle of a shower. And it was because my thoughts had taken a radical detour that I didn’t react fast enough to grab for the towel before Rafe came slamming into the bathroom. Thank God, the shower stall had frosted glass, so I wasn’t completely on show for him.

“Avery,” he said in a strangled whisper as understanding slowly dawned.

“The water went ice-cold.”

“You’re not hurt?”

Embarrassment aside, it was nice having him rush to my aid because he thought I’d been hurt. I’d never had that before, a man looking out for me. “Not hurt, just freezing.”

He moved, reaching for my towel before opening the door enough to hand it to me. “Do you have a robe?”

“In the bedroom closet.”

He disappeared only to return a few minutes later. “You can finish your shower in my bathroom while I check on the hot water heater.”

I wrapped the towel around my head so the shampoo didn’t drip into my eyes and pulled on the robe. Stepping from the stall, Rafe made no move to leave. His focus moved down my body, his lips turning up on the one side. “That’s a good look on you.”

“Right.” I thought he was being sarcastic, but when those green eyes found mine, I discovered I was wrong on that account. And that knowledge had my body growing warm to a nearly combustible level.

“Go, shower. I’ll see what I can do about the heater. If I need to order a new one, you can shower at my place until the unit is replaced.”

It was me who made no move to leave because now I was imagining showering in Rafe’s bathroom, preferably while he was showering too.

He made a sound in the back of his throat, a hungry sound that incited a hunger in me; a craving for something I suspected just sampling would be my downfall. And since the man was involved with someone, even a sample was out of the question. I nearly tripped over my own feet in my haste to leave.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower.”

I didn’t wait around for his reply. And as I fled to safety, I noted the weakness in my knees and the pounding of my heart and knew I was sliding down a slope I had no business being on. And even knowing it was wrong there was a part of me that wanted to slide the rest of the way.

Almost a full week had passed since the shower incident. I hadn’t been able to get that moment out of my head, not that I put a great deal of effort in trying to get it out of my head. In fact, I went out of my way to ponder it in detail, the dawning reality that the attraction wasn’t one-sided. Just thinking about him caused chills to shoot down my arms even as a heat scorched my blood that damn near liquefied my insides. Of course, he was involved with someone and that put a damper on my very pleasant daydreams. Though I wasn’t entirely sure he was still with her since she hadn’t been around since that night at Allegro. Either way, he was my landlord and getting involved seemed like a bad idea. Trouble was, I was beginning to really like that particular bad idea.

I was running errands on my day off because I was in desperate need of groceries. I had worked six full days—long, exhausting, tough on the back, exhilarating, thrilling and fantastic days. My team was great, hardworking and eager, but more they weren’t waiting for me to mess up so they could takeover. Chef Moree stayed back and let me lead and his show of confidence added to mine. All in all, my first week of work had rocked.

Returning to the house, I was surprised to see someone standing at the gates. The man turned and there was no denying he was related to Rafe. With the exception of his hair being buzzed, he could be Rafe’s older twin. His father. I waited for the nerves to kick in knowing that he was an ex-con, but seeing so much of Rafe in him, I instinctively took a liking to him. I pulled up to the gates, threw my car in park and rolled down the window: an activity that took about twenty-five minutes since my car was thirty-two years old. The man grinned, the same grin I had seen on Rafe’s face.

“You’re Rafe’s dad.”

“Guilty. Liam McKenzie.” He even sounded like him.

“Is he expecting you?”

“No. Are you his girlfriend?”

I wish.
“No, tenant. I’m renting the carriage house. Would you like to come inside and wait? I imagine he’ll be back soon, he’s probably making a delivery.”

He hesitated, looking a bit conflicted, before he said, “Maybe I should come back.”

“Why?”

He rubbed a hand over his shaved head as he regarded me from the corner of his eye. “Did Rafe mention anything about me?”

“Yeah.”

“That I was in prison?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re still inviting me in?”

“I’m guessing that’s not the reaction you’re used to.”

“No.”

“I don’t know you, but I know Rafe. This is his home and he has made it clear you’re welcome here. I have the day off and a freshly baked apple pie sitting on my counter. If you want to help me eat that pie while you wait, it would be doing me a solid since otherwise I’m likely to eat it all myself.”

“Are you sure?”

And even trying to stay upbeat, I was pissed. Sure I didn’t know this man, but what the hell kind of reception had he been getting that he was so hesitant now? “Yes, very sure.”

He flashed me a smile before coming around to the passenger’s side and folded his large, and immensely muscular, frame into my car. His gaze sliced to me. “1984?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I used to work on cars back in the day.”

Pulling up to the garage, we parked and Liam looked how I probably had the first time I’d seen the place—awestruck. “Hard to believe we’re in the Bronx.”

“My exact words. I’m just going to run to the house to get Loki.”

“Loki?”

“Rafe’s dog.”

Loki was eager to see me, even jumped a bit in greeting. “We have a guest.” I led him across the yard to where Liam waited. “This is Loki.”

Loki eyed the newcomer, taking his measure, and then he did something I had never seen him do, an action that required energy—something he staunchly conserved—he jumped up, put his paws on Liam’s chest and started licking him.

“He likes you.” Having shared as many walks as I had with Loki, witnessing his reaction to people, I believed him to be an excellent judge of character.

“The feeling is mutual.”

I wanted to give Liam the tour, but it wasn’t my place so instead I invited him inside and started the coffee. After I put the pie in the oven to warm, I headed to the freezer since I liked a little vanilla ice cream with my warm apple pie. “I have vanilla ice cream too. It’s homemade, so it’s a bit different than what you’re used to. Would you like some?”

“Please.” Liam’s attention was on the recipes I had lying on the counter. “Are you a baker?”

“Yes. I just finished my first full week as the pastry chef for a restaurant in town.”

“You create those desserts that look like art?”

“I try, the combination of beauty and taste.”

“So you’re an artist of sugar.”

I couldn’t help the smile since I loved that analogy. “Exactly.”

“And how did you know you wanted to do that?”

“I love sweet things, love creating sweet things that morphed into imaging new sweet things.”

“How was your first week?”

A lump formed in my throat at this exchange because this man, who I just met, was showing more of an interest in my life than my own father. I forced the words past the ache, tried maybe a little too hard for happy. “It was a great week. I have a wonderful team who works well together. And outside of coordinating with the executive chef’s menu, I’m only limited by my imagination. It’s a dream job.”

The fact that he picked up on the change in me, evident in the way his eyes grew assessing, hurt too. He didn’t pry and instead said, “I’m in for a treat then.”

Rafe’s father, having met the son, shouldn’t have surprised me but instead of the hardened closed-off man I expected, after the life he’d led, he was surprisingly easy-going. And I found myself as interested in him as he appeared to be in me. Though, in fairness, the man likely was only interested in me since he’d been locked away for so long so any interaction was probably welcomed.

That knowledge didn’t stop me from asking. “If I’m out of line, I apologize, but your hesitation earlier…how has it been acclimating after being incarcerated for so long?”