Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (22 page)

It took effort, great effort, to turn my head; my eyes landed first on Rafe’s feet, up his legs in those sweats that had places on my body aching in ways they never had, up his stomach to the tee that clung to his heated skin leaving nothing to the imagination. And unlike my moment, when I first arrived, of cotton sticking to my body, he looked edible. Reaching his face, I swear I almost lost consciousness because the man was smiling at me in the naughtiest way. If there was any question as to whether he heard what it was Loki and I were discussing, there wasn’t any more. Those made of weaker stock would crumble right now, but not me. I rallied and tried for my best clueless expression—one that looked a lot like Nat’s usual expression.

“Hey, Rafe.”

“Avery. Smells good.”

So do you.
I could see the sweat beading on his neck and how I wanted my tongue there. I was getting turned on, so I tried to pull myself together. I’d wait until later to have my dirty thoughts about my landlord when I could actually do something about the aches he stirred. And then I realized what I was thinking while he stood over me as I contemplated it. Could he read minds? From the way his eyes turned darker, I had a terrible suspicion he could.

Realizing I hadn’t answered him and not wanting him to pry into my brain to read any more of my wicked thoughts, I practically shouted at him. “Pumpkin scones. That’s what you’re smelling.”

“Do you need me to taste them?”

My eyes widened and I think my jaw dropped because as innocent as his comment seemed, there was definitely a sexual innuendo in the way that he said it. And though I was out of my depths, it didn’t stop me from saying, “If you think you can handle something as sinful as my pumpkin scones.”

Humor marched across his face. “Don’t know, but I sure as hell would like to give them a try.”

And in my head my scones actually meant my breasts, and just thinking about that mouth on me, I wanted to weep.

“I’m going to shower, call me when they’re done.”

He was going to shower, of course he was. I wanted to say there was a perfectly usable hose right here why go inside and shower? I’d even hold the hose for him. Instead, I waved at him in a noncommittal way because I was about to expire from raging lust. No need for him to see that. “I’ll give a holler.”

Give a holler? Where was Nat’s deadly knife when I could actually use it?

“Looking forward to tasting…your scones.”

Oh I didn’t imagine that hesitation, the emphasis he put on
your
. Being me and not knowing when to say when I replied, “Looking forward to you tasting them.” And then I thought of Melody and Rafe’s penchant for flirting, having witnessed his banter with Mrs. Milner. It was all in good fun for Rafe, for me it skirted too close to the danger zone. My raging lust evaporated like I’d been doused with a bucket of ice water.

My tone turned neutral, a fact not lost on Rafe. “I’ll leave a few on the counter in your kitchen.”

He stopped walking, his upper body twisting as his gaze searched mine. “What just happened?”

How did I answer that? It was the perfect opportunity to tell him about Melody, but I didn’t. A part of me wanted him to broach the subject of her first, especially since what we were doing was so much more than flirting and he knew I knew about her
.
So instead of answering him, I went with the time-honored classic. “I’m getting a headache.” Yep, I used the old headache ploy. A strategic genius, I was not.

He didn’t buy it; I could practically see the bubble over his head. Instead, he said, “Do you need anything for it?”

You.
I almost said, but bit my lip and shook my head no.

“Night, Avery.”

“Night, Rafe.”

He’d just reached his door when he called to me. “Oh, and Avery?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not with Melody anymore.”

Oh my God, he
could
read minds. And as I mentally recalled every thought I’d ever had when in his company, he added, “I really want to taste your scones.”

And then he winked at me before disappearing into his house. I stood motionless as the full impact of his statement hit me. He wasn’t with Melody anymore and he wanted to taste my scones. Oh, hell yeah. And even riding that high, I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t with Melody anymore then why the hell had she been at his gate?

I was on a break when I noticed I missed a call, but it was whom the call was from that had me staring at the screen in disbelief—my father. He hadn’t voluntarily called me…ever. I couldn’t lie; I was tempted to ignore his call, since he was so very good at ignoring mine, but rudeness didn’t come as easily to me.

He answered on the second ring. “Avery.”

So like him, no greeting. “Hi Dad.”

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue, but I wondered if you had time to talk today.”

Talk was code for wanting something; unease moved through me because the request was likely coming from Dolly and still I heard myself saying, “I have a dinner break coming up at four.”

“Okay, I’ll swing by and we’ll grab a bite.”

As surprised and apprehensive as I was, excitement sparked too because we were going to dinner.

“I’m working at Clover.”

“I know. I’ll see you at four.”

He clicked off before I could reply.

At four I stepped outside and my dad was there, working on his phone. His head lifted and he smiled. “Avery.”

“Dad.”

Nat shared his coloring, blond hair and blue eyes. Tall, fit, my dad was a good-looking man. “Do you have any preference on where we eat?”

“No.”

“There’s a great deli just down the street. How about we go there?”

“Sure.” It didn’t escape my notice how awkward our conversation was and how terribly uncomfortable I felt around my own dad.

“How’s the job?” he asked.

“Wonderful. I love the freedom and the creativity that’s encouraged.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I’ve a business associate who mentioned he dined at Clover the other night and the raspberry rum tart was, his words, out of this world.”

Pride gushed through me not only at the compliment but that my dad was the one to tell me. Rafe had been right, even as adults, children still sought the approval and praise of their parents.

Reaching the deli, we ordered our food and settled at a table. “So your mom and Harold are on their trip?”

“Yeah, she’s having the time of her life.”

“That surprises me, I’d never have thought your mom would enjoy something like that.”

“She didn’t either, but it isn’t so much the activity but the person she’s sharing it with that she adores.” Yes, it was a little dig, but he had it coming.

He brushed right past that when he said, “I’m happy to hear that. And you’re staying in Riverdale?”

My stomach twisted because I hated that I was right. Whatever this was, Dolly had put him up to it.

“I’m renting the carriage house of a friend of my boss’s.”

“Nice.”

“So what’s new with you, Dad?”

He looked up from his sandwich and it was the first time during our reunion that he looked nervous. “Well, actually I do have news.”

My stomach squeezed.

“Dolly’s pregnant.”

My pastrami on rye soured in my stomach. Working to control my reaction to that news was hard, but I sucked it up and pasted a smile on my lips. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s a bit daunting becoming a father again at sixty, but Dolly really wants a family.”

Again? Well yeah it kind of was again since he stopped acting like a father years ago. Bitterness burned through me. Instead, I just smiled and nodded.

“Anyway, to the reason why I wanted to see you. Dolly’s hope is that you’ll have an active role in our child’s life.”

Irritation and annoyance lit through me, as if I was the one who’d been keeping my distance. “As your daughter, it’s kind of a given I’ll be a part of your child’s life.”

“No, I realize that. What I mean to say is she wants to have a baby shower and she’s hoping that as the sister, you’ll throw it.”

It took me a minute for understanding to dawn and I couldn’t lie, hurt hit first knowing that had he not this request to make of me, my dad never would have called. Anger quickly replaced hurt that my dad could be such a blind fool when it came to his scheming bitch of a wife. “And does she have a preference for where this shower should be thrown?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. She’d like to have it at Clover and knowing how hard it is to get in there, she was hoping you could set it up.”

My voice turned deadly quiet; Mom would have known I was just barely holding onto my temper, so would’ve Nat, hell, even Harold would have picked up on it, but my dad hadn’t a clue. “So she’d like for me to ask for special treatment from my boss, whom I’ve only just started working for, so she can show off to all her friends at Clover. Am I getting this right?”

Dad’s brow furrowed, he was seriously living in a hole when it came to his wife. “I don’t think she’s being that calculating, Avery. It’s just an opportunity.”

“And if I worked at say, Applebee’s, would she still like for me to have an active role in my sibling’s life and host the baby shower? What about Nat, not interested in having the shower in an OR?”

Temper, I saw it rolling over his features. This little chat wasn’t going the way he wanted. “I think you’re being unfair to your stepmother.”

That was it; I lost it. “She is not my stepmother. She’s your new wife. I have a mother whom I love dearly. As far as your wife, the only one who doesn’t clearly see your wife’s actions is you. I will not be hosting her shower, in fact as soon as I get back to Clover I will do everything in my power to make certain it will be a cold day in Hell before Dolly gets to strut her low-class ass in my place of employment.”

“Avery!”

“You haven’t called me in years, you haven’t been a father for even longer, but you call me out of the blue, playing on my emotional need to have you in my life, to get your new wife what she wants even if that means using me to do it.” I stood, my body just shaking with rage. “Good luck with baby number three; you sucked being a father with Nat and me, maybe you’ll have better luck with this one.”

Tossing a twenty on the table, I walked out with my head held high until I reached the corner and then it all just crashed down on me. How badly I wanted my dad in my life and how he’d only ever been one huge disappointment. I cried, big fat tears because I’d finally had reached my limit, had finally come to the place where Nat was. I was done trying. When I returned to Clover I looked like a puffer fish, a fact not lost on Trace.

“Avery, what’s wrong?”

Wiping at my eyes, I took a few deep breaths to seek the calm I needed before I said, “I just saw my father. This is out of line, but I’m going to say it anyway. If you should get a request to host a baby shower for a Dolly Collins, it would be a huge favor to me if you turned that shit down.”

“A relation of yours?”

“My father’s new wife.”

Understanding moved over his face. “Consider it done.”

“Just like that?”

“For you to come back looking like that, knowing what I do about you, yeah, just like that.”

Even wallowing in misery, Trace’s opinion of me had a smile breaking over my face. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m even prepared to throw them physically from the building.” He offered that tidbit with a grin.

I laughed at the thought of Trace chucking Dolly out the front door of Clover, pregnant and all. “I don’t think it will come to that.” Even though there was a part of me that really wished it did.

I didn’t go right home after work, went to Allegro and bellied up to the bar. Signaling for a drink, I downed the first glass of wine and ordered a second. Feeling the alcohol in my blood was nice, took a bit of the sting out of the emotions stirred by the conversation with my dad.

I had tried, really had tried to see the good in him, but I was done. He hadn’t even seen it; the manipulation his wife was pulling on him and his daughter and here the man was talking about becoming a father again and with that woman as the mother. Unbelievable.

Tara approached; she must have been working the other side of the bar. “Avery, right?”