Just a Taste (12 page)

His words made her heart hurt. What had she done wrong?

He swallowed hard. “If we don't stop now . . .” His words were more strangled this time.

She realized that he was as turned on as she was. She hadn't done anything wrong. She'd done something very right, so she smiled. “What if—”

“Stop right there. You weren't even sure you were ready for a date. I'm not rushing you into anything.”

Her dad was right. Liam was a good man. She pulled his face back to hers and pressed a closed-mouth kiss to his lips.

“Thank you. I'd like to do this again. I'd really like it.”

He chuckled and stepped away. Even in the dark, she couldn't help but let her gaze wander down the length of him. She didn't know what that did to him, but he groaned and gave her a little push.

“Go inside now, Carmen. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” she said sweetly.

When she closed the door behind her, she stood there until she heard Liam's car start up. She finally understood what Rosa enjoyed about teasing men she met at the bar. It was a great sense of power to know she could turn on a man like that. Liam entering her life was causing a ripple effect and changing so many things.

As much trepidation as she had in forging ahead, the thought of new things excited her. Before she went to bed, she sat and thought about all the dreams she'd held on to after college. All the things she'd thought she'd want to do or accomplish. Then she made a list. It was time to move on and have her own life.

CHAPTER 7

F
or the rest of the week, Carmen and Liam worked side by side, in her kitchen and on the truck. She taught him what she could about cooking her dad's recipes. One thing she learned about Liam was that he didn't like being told what to do. Every time she corrected something he did, he'd scowl and the line between his eyebrows deepened. The man was used to being in charge. Long gone was the meek dishwasher in her dad's kitchen.

By Friday afternoon, they'd had enough—enough Mexican food, enough recipe tweaking, enough sexual tension. After they'd cleaned up last night, Liam had suggested taking a break from the truck and business for a day. They needed to relax, to get away before they ended up hating what they were trying to achieve.

His words made sense, and in truth, she liked the idea of spending time with him without worrying about work. He'd done nothing more than plant steamy kisses on her all week. He touched her all the time. A rub, a pat, a stroke. But not once did he attempt to take it further.

For the first time in her life, she felt ready to take it further. A new kind of nervousness invaded her body, but she pushed it down. Things were going well and she wanted this with Liam. No other guy ever made her feel safe and cared for the way Liam did. She knew that was because she'd had crappy taste in guys when she was in college, and since coming home, she hadn't given any man the chance to make her feel anything.

Liam made her feel.

She'd ventured out to the mall and bought new underwear, a matching bra and panty set to wear on her date. Although she suggested they go out to dinner, Liam offered to cook for her. She barely ate anything all day so she could enjoy everything Liam offered without guilt.

Standing in front of his door, preparing to knock, her nerves attacked full force. She shifted the bottle of wine she'd brought and inhaled slowly. This was normal. A new relationship would be full of firsts. She needed to learn to embrace them. Maybe even enjoy them. She knocked lightly and Liam answered quickly, as though he'd been standing by the door waiting for her.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” His gaze coated over her, warming every inch as it went. He opened the door wider, gesturing her in. As she passed, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

Her heart thumped as she looked at him. Had it really only been a day since they'd been together? He took the bottle of wine from her hand and helped her out of her coat. Again, his gaze raked over her like he hadn't seen enough the first time. She was glad she'd decided to wear a feminine skirt instead of her usual jeans. Her stomach knotted at the thought of him staring like that when they were naked.

Darkness. It was already evening. As long as the lights were out, she'd be fine. She swallowed hard at the lie she told herself. She didn't need to see him to feel his eyes on her.

“Something wrong?”

“Nope.”

He hung her coat on the coatrack near the door. “Come into the kitchen. Dinner will be ready soon. We can enjoy a glass of wine while we wait.” He paused midstride. “Unless you want to sit in here. I can bring the glasses in.”

“The kitchen's fine.” She followed him and the wonderful smell of something delicious caught her. Her stomach growled. She probably should've had something to tide her over. She didn't want to act like a pig at the trough.

The kitchen table was set. He even had a couple of candles waiting to be lit. She took a stool at the counter and watched Liam open the wine. “What's for dinner?”

“Lamb and polenta.”

He poured her a glass of wine and then went to the stove and began whisking whatever he had in the pot on the flame. The rhythmic sound of metal on metal soothed her. These were sounds she'd grown up with. The radio played in the background, something smooth and jazzy. If this was Liam's seduction technique, he knew what he was doing.

She sipped from the wine, well aware that she was drinking on an empty stomach. “Anything I can help with?”

“You can grab the salad from the fridge,” he said without looking up.

Carmen walked to the fridge and nearly had to pick up her jaw when she looked inside. Ruthlessly organized, the entire thing was filled. How much food could a man who lived alone eat?

She grabbed the glass bowl, which was prettier than anything she owned, and asked, “Salad dressing?”

“Already on. It's ready to eat.”

She placed the bowl on the table between the two place settings, which were adjacent instead of across the table from each other. She liked the way Liam did things. By the time she returned to her spot at the counter, he'd pulled a pan from the oven and her stomach grumbled again. She swallowed a gulp of wine to quiet it.

“Hand me the plates from the table.” He suddenly looked up. “Please.”

She smiled because she knew that in any other kitchen, pleasantries were tossed aside. There was no time to waste on
please
or
thank you
. But for her, he altered his speech. She set the dishes beside his work station and watched as he plated the food. It was like viewing an artist at work. The dinner was photo-ready and almost too pretty to eat.

Liam wiped his hands quickly on a towel and then picked up the plates. He put them on the table and turned to her. Instead of telling her to sit, he grabbed her hips and pulled her in for a devastating kiss. His lips were impatient and his tongue swiped against hers, pulling a moan from her chest. He pressed her body fully against his and shifted the angle of the kiss.

Carmen felt light-headed. She couldn't tell if it was the wine or Liam's kiss, but it was wonderful. He slowly pulled away, but his fingers tightened on her hips. “I've wanted to do that since you walked in the door, but I didn't want to ruin the polenta. Timing is everything.”

She was a little short of breath. She didn't think a man had ever wanted her like this. It was a heady feeling. “Burnt polenta might've been worth it.”

He let go of her body and smirked. “You've never had my polenta.”

He turned and pulled her chair out for her. She rolled her eyes. “I can get my own chair, Liam. You don't have to try to impress me.”

As she sat, he lowered to her ear and whispered, “I like doing things for you.”

A shiver raced down her back. He pulled away and took his own seat. Carmen stared at the plate in front of her. Liam reached over and added some salad to her dish.

A small smile accompanied his words. “I know how much you like your salad.” He added a bit of salad to his own plate and then looked around. “I forgot my wine.”

He walked to the counter to get his glass and Carmen studied her plate. She had no idea where to start so she started with what she knew: the salad. The leafy greens held a hint of balsamic vinegar, but the taste woke her mouth. Liam returned to his seat with his glass and the bottle of wine. He topped off her glass and then lit the candles before picking up his silverware.

“Do you do this all the time?”

“What?”

“Go all out for dinner? It seems like a lot of work for two people. Even more so if you're eating alone.”

He gave a careless shrug and lifted the corner of his mouth. “When I'm eating alone, I don't light the candles.” He scooped up a bit of polenta.

She watched his lips close over his fork. The man made eating look sensual. “I'm serious.”

“So was I. Kind of. I like to cook. I usually eat at the restaurant, so I don't cook every meal at home, but when I do, I want it to be something I like. I believe in eating well.”

Those were words she'd grown up with. Eat. Eating well for her meant an expanded waistline. She shoved the thought aside. Liam made this fabulous meal for her and she
would
enjoy it. She followed his lead and scooped some polenta into her mouth.

She'd never had it before although she'd heard of it. The thick texture coated her tongue. An earthy taste followed. She swallowed, but savored the flavor. She had no idea how he had made a pile of mush taste good, but he had. This was the same guy who couldn't get tacos right?

If the polenta was that amazing, she could only imagine what he could do with lamb. She cut a piece of meat, which took little effort because it was so tender. The rosemary was a perfect match to the meat that practically melted on her tongue.

“Is it good?”

She realized she'd closed her eyes while eating and when she opened them at Liam's question, he was staring at her again. “Good doesn't begin to describe this. It's amazing. What's the flavor?”

“Truffle oil.” Her compliment earned her a warm smile.

Truffle oil. One more thing she knew nothing about. Except that it tasted great. She went back to eating, but took her time. One thing she'd learned about herself over the years was that rushing only made her eat more. More than she needed.

The further she got into the meal, the more a nagging thought poked at her. Liam was too good of a chef to be working on a food truck. Her dad had been a cook, a good cook, but he wasn't a trained chef. Gus was all about family food, stuff to eat on the go, that was homemade. Liam was an artist when he cooked.

He would never be happy slinging tacos forever.

She took a gulp of wine to push down the fear. They'd agreed to give it a year. At that point, they would probably sell. Liam had bigger dreams than the Taco Taxi.

Liam watched Carmen eat. Part of him knew it would make her uncomfortable, but he couldn't help himself. The woman looked like she was making love as she thoroughly enjoyed the meal he'd made. He was glad he'd opted to use the good stuff regardless of price. She was worth every penny. If he always got that reaction, he'd cook for her every freaking day. He was so turned on that he couldn't taste the food himself.

She made it difficult for him to follow his plan. He didn't rush into anything, and when he decided he wanted a relationship with Carmen, he also knew that he'd take his time. They had no hurry to move things along, especially since she had so much going on in her life. But every hour they spent crammed into that damn truck or even standing over the stove in her kitchen, he was acutely aware of how much he wanted her.

Now, watching her revel in the food he'd created, he wanted nothing more than to clear the table and take her right here. Which went against everything he ever did.

Ever since coming back in contact with Carmen, he'd been different but he couldn't explain why. It was part of why he'd suggested they take a day off. A day away from the business and away from each other, but he couldn't get her off his mind. Less than twenty-four hours and he couldn't wait to see her again.

They ate, but didn't talk. It was one of the many things that made Carmen so attractive to him. She didn't require him to talk all the time. If she wanted to speak, she would, but she didn't push him. Silence never seemed to bother her, though. But then again, she rarely needed words to convey what she thought.

Her body language spoke volumes and her eyes even more. He could easily get lost staring into her dark eyes.

Carmen pushed her plate away. “That was phenomenal. I couldn't eat another bite.”

He looked at her plate. She'd eaten little more than half of what he'd given her. “Hmm. That's too bad because I made cheesecake for dessert.”

She bit her lower lip.

“House rules are that you don't get dessert if you don't finish your dinner.”

She leaned her forearms on the table. “If I finish all that food, I wouldn't be able to eat dessert either.”

“How about a few more bites and then we'll take a break? Go sit on the couch, finish our wine. The cheesecake will be fine until later.” What he wanted was to take her to his bed and work up a whole new appetite.

She must've gotten his intention because she blushed, just a slight hint of pink on her golden skin.

Scooping up another bite of polenta, she turned her fork over, and keeping her eyes locked on his, she swirled her tongue over the fork. He swallowed hard and leaned closer. Screw dinner. If she wasn't hungry, he could think of more interesting things to do with her tongue.

He reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Even with the corner of the table between them, his mouth met hers. He tasted the truffles and her wine. His jeans became tighter as his dick hardened, but he would be happy to continue feasting on her mouth.

Her fork clanged against the dish between them, startling them both. Carmen jerked back. She breathed heavily and he watched the swell of her breasts rise and fall. Her pulse fluttered against his palm.