Recipe for Kisses (5 page)

He shook his head. “No,” he said slowly, as if realizing he’d taken a misstep somewhere in the conversation. “I’m offering to pay for the damage to your store.”

“Crappy display,” Abby muttered. “Give her twenty bucks for it.”

Ben nudged his niece’s elbow. “Mouth. Shut.”

Chloe looked between Abby and Ben and made her decision in an instant. “I don’t want your money,” she said, pointing at the girl. “I want her.”

C
HAPTER FOUR

B
en felt Abby take a small step behind him and his protective instincts kicked in, along with his temper. He shifted so he was looming over the tiny toy store owner. “What the hell?” he yelled. “I thought you weren’t calling the cops?”

He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see that Abby had gone pale and twitchy, like she was about to run. He took hold of her wrist, just to be safe, and swung his gaze back to Chloe. She looked nervous at his nearness, but there was something more. It was as if . . .

“Are you holding your breath?”

She started to nod then shook her head. “I’m trying not to smell you.”

He bent his head and inhaled the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t—”

“You think he’s bad now?” Zach asked with a laugh. “You should try sitting next to him after Papa makes tacos.” The boy waved a hand in front of his nose. “It’s like—”

“Enough.” Ben cuffed Zach on the side of the head. “No spilling family secrets.” He pointed at Chloe. “I don’t smell.”

Abby peeked around his shoulder. “He actually showered today,” she offered.

“You smell good. It’s annoying.”

“Would you rather I stink?” Ben asked with a chuckle. He was used to women who were experts at flirting. Yet Chloe’s backhanded compliment made his day.

She didn’t meet his gaze as she eased back toward the register. “Never mind. I’m not involving the police,” she explained. “I want her to work off the money she owes me for the display.”

“No. Way.” Abby jumped out from behind him. “He offered you more than it was worth. I’m not going to be your slave. That’s so unfair.”

“Do you have other plans for the summer?” Chloe asked conversationally.

“No . . . I mean, yes,” Abby stammered. “I’m going to hang out with my friends and . . .” She looked around wildly before her gaze settled on Zach. “And I’ve got to take care of my brother.”

“I can help,” Zach said immediately. “I know a ton about dinosaurs and building stuff. I can be your boy expert.”

Ben was floored at the sweetness of the smile Chloe gave his nephew. “I need a boy expert.”

“Honey, you need a man, not a boy,” Ben said under his breath, earning himself a glare.

“Ben, tell her there’s no way you’ll let me work here.” Abby clutched at her chest, displaying the melodrama teenagers are so good at. “I’m not even sixteen. There are child labor laws.”

Chloe laughed at that, a melodic sound that made Ben’s breath catch. He wanted to hear more of it. Hell, he wanted to be the one to put a smile on her face.

He was no rocket scientist, but even he understood the hypocrisy of that when he was determined to close down her toy store. “It’s not work,” Chloe explained in her patient voice. “It’s community service, and trust me, it will do you good.” She glanced at Ben now and repeated the words in a soft whisper. “Trust me.”

Ben, who didn’t trust anyone, immediately put his faith in this petite contradiction of a woman. “Fine,” he said, ignoring Abby’s shriek of protest. “How many hours?”

Something brightened on Chloe’s face, as if the fact that he didn’t fight her on this one thing really meant something to her. “Forty hours,” she said without hesitation. “Ten hours a week for a month. Zach should come with you since his actions started this whole thing.”

“Awesome,” Zach said, pumping his small fist in the air.

“A month?” Abby’s voice was a high-pitched whine. “If I’m stuck here that long, I’ll go crazy.”

Ben smiled as Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’ll live,” she said then turned again to Ben. “I also want something from you.”

His smile faded. “Me? I don’t owe you anything.”

“You owe me the chance to fight for my store.”

He almost laughed at the absurdity of her pronouncement, but she continued. “I’ve watched how you operate on that show of yours,” she said, stepping forward to poke him in the chest. He knew he should be irritated that she thought he was indebted to her in any way. However, the fact that she felt comfortable enough to touch him, even a silly chest poke, made him happier than he had any right to be.

“You’re fair,” she added quickly. “As mean as you are to people on
A Beast in Your Kitchen
, it’s only to the ones who deserve it. If they turn things around in their restaurant, you help them with publicity and stuff.” She nodded, and it seemed like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. The funny thing was, she was right.

Skewed as it might be, Ben had his own code of ethics. Not many people saw through the blustering and verbal barbs he piled on the chefs targeted by his temper, but in his own mind, he tried to honor what he felt was right. Not that he saw himself as a hero, far from it. But he also wasn’t the maniacal monster the show’s editing portrayed, which was why more often recently the “Beast” moniker given to him at the start of his career had begun to be more of a hindrance to living his life than a help to the success he’d craved for so long.

Chloe’s coworker, Tamara, sauntered back to their group. “I’ve watched how you operate in the tabloids. You’re smoother than a baby’s powdered bottom.”

Zach made a gagging noise.

“I think you’ll give me a chance.” Chloe smiled at him, not quite as sweet as the smile she’d given Zach but close enough that his heart lurched, the sensation unfamiliar enough to make him press a hand to his chest.

“Tell her she’s crazy,” Abby told him. “Let’s go home. You’ve already sold me down the river by agreeing to her slave-labor bargain.”

Tamara was gazing at Chloe as if her employer had more than one screw loose, but Chloe’s gaze never wavered from Ben. It was as if she had faith that he’d do the right thing. He couldn’t resist the challenge. “What do you want?”

He saw her chest rise and fall, and her teeth caught on her bottom lip before she answered. He could tell she hadn’t planned this, and it made him all the more curious to see what she’d request.

“I owe almost five thousand dollars in back rent,” she said, flinching a little when Tamara gave a low whistle.

“You mean—”

“I was going to pay the back rent,” Chloe said, looking at each of them. “I meant to but . . .”

“It’s ok, sweetie.” Tamara placed an arm around Chloe’s small shoulder. “Your heart is bigger than your bank account, and that isn’t the worst thing in the world.” She glared at Ben and he felt his face grow unaccountably warm as Abby and Zach both turned to stare at him.

“What?” he said, lifting his hands, palms up. “This isn’t a charity.”

When Tamara stepped forward, clearly ready to light him up, Chloe held out a hand. “He’s right. But I want a chance to earn back my store. If I can pay you the back rent before the lease ends, will you renew?”

This was the point when Ben should shut her down. Opening his own restaurant had been his dream from the time he’d taken his first job as a teenager in the kitchen at Poppo’s Italian Inn near the house where he’d grown up. He’d abandoned that dream when he’d gone to work for Maurice then worked his way up to executive chef at La Lune. The dream had seemed like a far-off plan after his contract with EatTV. Between the show’s schedule and promotional appearances, he barely had time to make himself a bowl of cereal, let alone come up with ideas for a menu. But he’d never really given up. Otherwise, why would he have made the promise to Cory and bought this building? Why would he have encouraged the property manager to go easy on Chloe’s inability to pay, other than because he wanted her weak and struggling before he took her down?

She didn’t look weak now. With her eyes shining and her shoulders straight, she looked fierce and brave and alive. There were a lot of people who thought he was an asshole, but saying no to Chloe now would have been like kicking a kitten. Even Ben wasn’t that much of a jerk.

“Back rent, interest on what you owe, and payment for the next two months.”

He heard Abby gasp and Chloe made a small noise that sounded like . . . a damn kitten mewling. He opened his mouth, ready to relent, when she nodded and thrust out her hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Chloe, you can’t be serious.” Tamara had her hands on her ample hips now, shaking her head. “There’s no way—” The bells above the door interrupted the rest of her tirade.

“That’s Mrs. Murphy,” Chloe said, waving to the woman who’d just walked in with the hand that wasn’t outstretched toward Ben. “I special-ordered a tea set for her granddaughter’s birthday.” She looked at Tamara. “It’s on the shelf behind the register. Will you help her?”

Tamara narrowed her eyes but moved toward the front of the store.

“Your employees are protective of you,” Ben observed, still ignoring her outstretched hand.

Chloe didn’t bother to deny it. “We take care of each other.” She poked him in the stomach with her fingers. “We still need to shake on the deal,” she said but poked him again. “Are you making your muscles tight?”

He felt his mouth curve. “Want me to lift up my shirt so you can check for yourself?”

“Going to be sick here,” Abby said with an exaggerated moan.

“Wanna see my stomach?” Zach asked and lifted up his shirt, thrusting forward to make a tiny pooch.

“Dude, put that away,” Ben said. “We’ve got to work on your game.”

“I like Connect Four,” Zach answered. “We can play at home. Dad got me the travel set since we were going to go camping this summer.”

“He wasn’t going to take you camping,” Abby muttered.

For the first time since he’d come to Denver, Ben saw Zach get really mad.

“Yes, he was,” the boy yelled, drawing the attention of two women at the front counter. “Maybe he didn’t tell you because you weren’t invited. Because you aren’t really his—”

“Enough,” Ben snapped, dropping a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He took Chloe’s hand in his other one, once again noticing how soft her skin felt. “Deal,” he told her, wondering exactly how much additional trouble this was going to cause him.

“B
en ‘The Beast’ Haddox is your landlord?” Samantha Carlton, one of Chloe’s two best friends in the world, asked over coffee later that week.

“I don’t think he likes the nickname,” Chloe said softly.

Sam ignored her. “Since when? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“More importantly,” added her other best friend, Kendall Clark, “why didn’t you tell us the store was in trouble? We want to help if you’ll let us.”

Chloe sighed and broke off a piece of croissant, focusing her attention on the pastry rather than on the women watching her expectantly. She wanted to talk about the situation with people other than her employees but forgot that her friends might be more concerned with how she was affected. She’d become so used to being on her own, she felt rusty at sharing the details of her life.

Kendall and Sam were the most important people in her life, and guilt tugged at her knowing she’d hurt their feelings with her reticence. The three had met at an evening class at a neighborhood community center several years ago and formed a close, if unlikely, friendship.

Although neither woman had experienced the type of destructive relationship Chloe had with her ex-husband, until a few months ago, bad choices in men had been one of their strongest bonds. But Chloe had always felt like the pathetic stepsister when compared to Sam’s beauty and dedication to the inner-city kids she helped and Kendall’s drive and determination. In truth, she hadn’t told them about the store because she didn’t like needing help. Her role was as mother hen or caregiver, and listening to other people’s problems seemed much easier than sharing her own.

The result of growing up with a parent who had issues with depression was that Chloe had learned to pretend things were always fine in her world. Judy hadn’t been like the other mothers, and she’d quickly learned to hide that aspect of her childhood. She hated the shame of admitting her own problems, even though she’d initially chosen a career in social work so she could help other people deal with theirs.

“It didn’t seem like a big deal,” she admitted. “Stan still owned the building when I bought the business from him. He wanted the storefront filled with shops that meant something to the community. He’d owned The Toy Chest since it opened, and to him that was more important than how much money we brought in each month. He was happy the store he loved was going to remain in business when he retired. When he died suddenly almost a year ago, his family put the building on the market.”

“Did your rent go up when the new owner bought it?” Sam asked, taking a sip of her chai tea.

“Yes, but the woman at the property management company was understanding when I made irregular payments.” Chloe swallowed back the embarrassment clogging her throat. “I should have known something was wrong when the café next to me went out of business so quickly. The owner was old and had been looking to retire and move to Florida since I’d met him. Nothing else opened in that space and . . .” She dropped her head into her hands. “I was naive and stupid.”

Kendall reached out to pat her hand. “You’re not stupid.”

“But definitely naive,” Sam said then yelped when Kendall swatted her arm. Chloe smiled despite the anxiety swirling in her stomach. Her friends argued back and forth for a few minutes about what it meant to be supportive, and it warmed her heart to know they were each trying in their own way. She was grateful to have both of them in her life.