Deep Autumn Heat (2 page)

Seb sighed. He used to love being a renowned chef, and had thrived on the sheer volume of work. But lately, it had started to seem like a slog. Had he lost his passion or was he just exhausted?

Damn
. He had to stop stressing so that he could enjoy the weekend, but that probably wasn’t going to happen. He had only himself to blame. His plan was to stay in Star Harbor for a full week, but it wasn’t going to be much of a vacation. He would need to spend at least part of the time working on his upcoming projects. Later on in the morning, he was scheduled to scout out spaces in Boston for his new restaurant. His brothers weren’t too happy about it—their tradition was to spend the weekend
together
, after all—but it was rare that he ever got time away
from his restaurant, Helena. Suddenly, the fact that he was tired, damp, cold, and seriously decaffeinated started to wear on him. He needed that coffee, bad.

“So how’s the writing going, Theo?” he asked, trying to think about something else.

Theo set his book down. “Not as well as I’d like,” he admitted. “I’m having trouble getting started on my next project.”

“Lower your standards,” Cole joked.

“Never.” Theo shook his head. “I just wish I could find some real inspiration.”

“It’s everywhere, all around you,” Val said sagely. He was right. Seb himself could draw inspiration for one of his entrées from anything—a smell, a color, or even an interesting texture. Val didn’t talk much. Never had. But when he said something, it was worth it to listen. Val had been his rock—everyone’s rock, really—since their father had died. And after their mother had passed away twelve years ago, taken from them by a stroke, Val was the closest thing they had to a parent.

He looked at his oldest brother. Calm. Resolute. His face bracketed by a square jaw and steely blue eyes. Their mother’s eyes. He’d trust Val with anything. He trusted Theo and Cole, too, of course, but Val was the most solid of them all. The younger Grayson boys had gone wild when their dad had died. But somehow, despite the fact that he was only a few years older than Cole, Val had brought them back to Earth. Grounded them. Without him, they would have stayed adrift. Val hadn’t supported most of their rowdy adventures, but he had always stepped in to keep things under control. It was Val who’d suggested Seb travel to pursue his passion. He had taken that advice, and now he was at the top of his culinary game.

“Maybe you should come back to Star Harbor for a while. Get some good ideas for your new book,” Cole suggested.

“Maybe,” Theo responded ambiguously and went back to reading. Though not as soft-spoken as Val, Theo was quieter than either Cole or himself. They’d called him “the Professor” growing up because he’d always had his nose in a book or his pen to paper, meticulously plotting their escapades. Cole had been their logistics guy, so it had come as no surprise to anyone when
he joined the military. And Seb? He’d been the charmer, able to sweet-talk anyone into anything. Just like their father.

Seb had loved his mom, but like most boys, he’d worshipped his dad—his slow but easy smile. The way the corners of his eyes would crinkle up when he found something funny. The old pirate stories he used to tell the boys before bedtime. Seb thought about him every day. It was hard not to. Every time he opened his mouth or looked at himself in a mirror he was reminded of his father. But most of all, he missed his dad’s laughter echoing off the sides of his fishing boat as he hauled in the day’s catch.

“Hey, you guys talk to James Bishop lately?” Seb asked, trying to snap himself out of his funk. Jimmy had been a part of their high school crowd and Seb felt a brief twinge of regret that he hadn’t kept in better touch.

“I haven’t talked to Jimmy in years,” Theo said as he broke down his rod and reel.

Val nodded. “Yep. Owns his own tour boat and sailing company now. He’s getting married in a few weeks. Asked me and Cole to be in his wedding party.”

“Really?” Seb couldn’t imagine Jimmy—a huge bear of a man with an outsized voice and a nose for trouble—tying the knot.

“To Emma Newbridge, Kate Everhart’s niece,” Cole said, as if he were reading Seb’s mind. “Emma’s been helping run the Star Harbor Inn since Kate was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. Jimmy’s a changed man. Or so he says.” Cole chuckled as he reeled in his line and started packing up his gear.

“I’ve met Emma,” Seb said. “Can’t imagine how Jimmy snagged someone so … so …”

“Sweet?” Theo interjected.

“Yeah.” Emma was appealing and engaging, the exact opposite of Jimmy. Or at least how Jimmy used to be.

“Well, you can ask him yourself. He’s at the Rusty Nail most nights after work,” Val said. “We can join him later for a beer.”

“Beer sounds good,” Seb said, reminded of his aching body, “but coffee sounds better.
Any idea where I can grab a decent cup of joe around here?”

Val smiled and closed his tackle box. “I know just the place.”

“Damn.”

Lexie Meyers, chef-owner of the LM Kitchen, didn’t even flinch as a huge tray of glassware slipped out of her teenage busboy’s hands and fell to the floor with a deafening crash. As nearby patrons gasped with shock, the culprit winced, looking utterly chagrined. Lexie just let out a deep sigh—and the strongest curse she could say in polite company—and signaled for Dennis to clean up the mess before bending down to help him.

It had been that kind of day already in Star Harbor, Massachusetts, and it was barely nine
A.M.
She’d needed to make a last-minute run to Martins’ Market because her supplier hadn’t delivered the vegetable shipment, which had put her at least half an hour behind schedule. Then both of her morning shift servers had called in sick, meaning that Lexie was the only one available to waitress. To top it all off, one of the gas lines to the stove had ruptured, making the unit completely inoperable.

Trying not to think that all of this was a little bit more than just bad luck—especially since she’d had the stove repaired just last week—Lexie scrambled to greet customers, make coffee, and take orders. It was frustrating to be short-staffed, particularly since it seemed like the whole town of Star Harbor had decided to have breakfast in her restaurant this morning. Not that she wasn’t thrilled about the business. But she would have loved a few minutes to breathe, especially since everything was just a bit off this morning.

Dennis’s broom scraped against the stone floor as he swept the smaller shards of glass into a plastic bin. Lexie had no time to worry about it. At least she’d had the time to get the bread and pastries baked before breakfast. Lexie did most of the baking herself, and the display case at the front of the restaurant was stuffed to bursting with freshly made almond croissants, cinnamon buns, morning rolls, and of course, her famous coconut cake. It wasn’t likely that anyone would order a piece of cake for breakfast, but it never hurt to showcase the treats. Besides, it might tempt people back for lunch.

Who was she kidding? She just wanted to show off her perfect coconut cake. The cake that put the Kitchen on the map. The cake that she hoped would one day make her a legend.

The bell on the front door jingled again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cole Grayson, the new sheriff of Star Harbor, enter the restaurant. He was a good-looking guy—big hands, nice build—but she wasn’t into that whole man-in-uniform thing.

“Morning, Cole,” she said over her shoulder. “You on duty or do you want a table?”

“I’m not Cole,” the man responded in a low, deep voice.

Lexie quickly turned. The apology she’d been about to give caught in her throat. No, despite the strong resemblance, he wasn’t Cole. He wasn’t Cole at all.
This
man looked like he’d walked right out of one of her dirtiest fantasies.

He was tall, taller than Cole, which was saying something, since Cole stood well over six feet. Dressed all in black, he wore a leather jacket over a well-fitted T-shirt and slim jeans. He looked completely out of place in Star Harbor, a quintessential New England town where locals favored canvas barn jackets and waterproof boat shoes. Dominating the space around her, he simply stood there and let her stare. Lexie should have turned, should have stepped away, should have given herself some room to think, to breathe. But she couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

His hair was raven black, and though the thick mass was swept back, a long, wavy piece fell across his forehead. Refined, almost aristocratic features graced his face. He had a strong, elegant nose and a perfectly formed mouth with generously proportioned lips. Lips that were made for tasting. For devouring. Unconsciously, she leaned forward.

Despite the pull of those maddening lips, the most striking thing about him was his green eyes. The color of a stormy sea at dusk with flecks of glinting yellow, they made a fascinating contrast with his black hair and his light skin. His expression was both utterly masculine and devastatingly devilish.

Lexie blinked, trying to clear her mind. Though she knew she hadn’t met him before, he looked strangely familiar, and not just because he resembled Cole. She stared up at him, trying to place him. He stared back, those green eyes sizing her up. She could tell the moment his gaze
morphed from one of curiosity into one of blatant interest. It was no less intense but infinitely more sensual. A tiny shiver of excitement crept up her spine.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

Lexie’s mouth went dry. Had they met before? Aside from in her dreams? Before she could even form a coherent thought, Cole Grayson walked through the door, followed by another similar-looking man.

“Morning,” Cole said with a slight smile. “I see you’ve met my brother, Seb.”

Cole’s easy tone snapped her out of her stupor. “Ah, yes,” Lexie managed to stammer, eyes still on Cole’s brother. “I just did. Welcome back to Star Harbor.”

“Thanks,” Seb said, never lifting his gaze from her. “It’s good to be back.
Very
good.” He smiled, displaying a beautiful set of straight, white teeth.

Lexie swallowed, desperately trying to get some moisture onto her tongue.

“And this is Theo,” Cole interjected, oblivious to the undercurrent running between her and Seb. Turning her gaze to the other men, her mouth opened in surprise. Cole’s brothers were twins. Theo was just as tall, dark, and handsome as his brother, but there were a few critical differences. He parted his hair on the left instead of on the right, and he wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. There was a slight crookedness to his nose, while Seb’s was still straight. Perhaps the biggest difference, though, was in their expressions—Theo looked polite, sedate even, while Seb was dark and brooding.

“Glad you’re finally getting to meet the rest of my brothers,” Cole said. “I think you missed them the last time they were in town. And you’re usually in the kitchen. What’s going on?”

She returned her attention to Cole. Leave it to the cop to notice that something had gone wrong. “You have no idea. But come on in, gentlemen,” she said, with an ease that belied the fluttering in her stomach. “Grab a booth, if you can find one. I’ll come around in a minute to tell you about the specials.”

“Thanks,” Cole said, ushering his brothers toward an open table. As soon as Seb moved
away, Lexie could breathe again. She busied herself with a coffeepot for a moment, more to collect herself than anything else.

The last time she’d been so affected by a mere look it had gotten her into a whole lot of trouble. Trouble she wasn’t keen to rehash. She’d left Frank—fled from Frank, actually—leaving California far behind. Three thousand miles of distance had barely been enough for her to keep her head together and her body in check. She’d fallen for Frank hard. Too bad he’d turned out to be crazy. Literally. He’d made it nearly impossible to leave him, but she’d eventually skipped out, started a new life, and sworn off men. Especially men who had the ability to make her temperature rise with just a smile.

Steeling herself, she grabbed the coffeepot off its trivet. When she reached Cole’s table, she noticed that Val Grayson had joined them. Lexie had met Val within a month of moving to town. Like all the Grayson men, Val was large and powerful, but his sinewy strength was disguised by his loose garb. Lexie knew exactly how strong Val was because she’d once seen him catch in midair a seventy-pound flat of turnips that had fallen off the back of her delivery truck. He hadn’t even broken a sweat—he’d simply returned the flat to the truck’s bed like it was no big deal. Since then she’d made sure to serve him a bit more food on his plate every time he showed up at the LMK.

Val and Cole were absentmindedly thumbing through their menus—like many locals, they knew it by heart—but Theo and Seb were examining theirs more thoroughly.

Lexie swallowed hard. “Coffee?” she offered briskly, hoping they couldn’t hear the quaver in her voice.

“Yes please,” Cole said, flipping his cup over and pushing it toward her. Val followed suit, and Theo threw her a brief smile as he did, too. Seb was silent as he turned his cup over and shoved it to the edge of the table.

Lexie filled the four cups, her hand shaking a bit as she reached over the table. Then she began to rattle off the morning’s specials. “We have banana caramel French toast, which I highly recommend. Our omelet of the day is the Star Harbor special, with crabmeat, red peppers, and
Swiss cheese. If you’re in the mood for pancakes, we have—”

“I’ll have a piece of the coconut cake,” Seb broke in.

“Sorry?” Lexie asked, once again lost in those amazing eyes.

“Coconut cake. I saw some in the display case. It looked incredible. It’s for sale, right?”

“Ye-es—” Lexie started slowly, trying not to sound like an idiot, “but our steak and eggs breakfast is great, and it comes with—”

“Coconut cake. That’s what I’m having. Theo,” he gestured to his twin without breaking eye contact with Lexie, “will take forever to order, so why don’t you just get me the cake now.”

He paused, then let his gaze drop from her face, run down her body in a leisurely fashion, and rise back up again.