Take Me Home Tonight (11 page)

“My grandfather was a tailor, and my grandmother a seamstress. My father put himself through college washing dishes and delivering food. Just like the others in my family, I'm going to forge my own path using my intelligence, my creativity, and my resourcefulness.”

“That doesn't answer the question, but all right. Let's get to it.” She looked down at Mimi's dish. “I give you a two for quick thinking. Unlike Chef Alonso, I couldn't read your thoughts, so since I could only go with your actions, I found your execution of basic tasks a bit plodding. I give you a two for innovation. I'm just not finding salt, pepper, and a few herbs all that innovative.”

Oh, crap. She couldn't afford these low numbers.

“Frankly, it tasted like a dessert that you tried to masquerade as an appetizer with the use of pepper. And I give you a one for presentation because a tart with two sprigs of rosemary?” Zoe remained completely unapologetic, which was so strange since the other judges had the humanity to at least look sorry for delivering a low score.

Five out of fifteen points. Dammit. This could sink her.

“Thank you. I always appreciate constructive criticism.” She took a step back, her legs shaky. She'd blown it. Everything Zoe had said was right. A tart was hardly innovative.

“Okay,” Verna said. “When we come back, who will stay in the game to be the next Verna Bloom apprentice?”

*   *   *

The
moment the show ended, Calix fought his way backstage. A crush of people made it difficult to get to her, but he got a glimpse of those dark red braids and pushed through.

She chatted with the other contestants, her vibrant personality making her stand out among the crowd. He was so damn proud of her. In spite of Zoe's low scores, she'd made it to the next round.

That judge had tried to make her seem undeserving. Like some pampered rich kid who was just playing around, but she'd failed. Because Mimi rocked.

The more he watched, the more he noticed her attention
wasn't really on the conversation. She kept looking away from the group, her gaze scanning. And when she saw him, relief washed over her flushed features.

Calix ploughed through the crowd. As soon as he neared her, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “You're fucking amazing.” It came out a growl.

The way her arms tightened around him, the way she leaned into him, giving him her weight, let him know she'd had enough. He pulled her out of the fray, guiding her down a hallway. His big body shielding her, he tipped her chin. “You did great.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “That was crazy. A total and complete rush.”

“You want to get out of here?”

“I want to say good-bye to Pedro. I don't think he deserved to be eliminated, but yeah, I really want to go home.”

*   *   *

As
the revolving door spilled them out onto Avenue of the Americas, Mimi turned to him, and he knew right away he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

“Hey, thank you so much for bringing me out here and being this huge source of support for me. But I know you need to get back to your family, so . . .” She shrugged.

“You getting rid of me?” She'd given him a good excuse to go. And, yeah, he should take it. But he didn't want to leave her yet.

“I'm totally wired, and at the same time, all I want to do is curl up on my couch, order take-out, and watch movies. I think I'm just going to walk home.”

Right. He could head back. “Okay, then.”

Both stood awkwardly, tires driving through pools of water the only sound. “You going to your dad's?” he asked.

“No, I kept my apartment in the Village since I'll be back in the city once I get a job. Or, hopefully, this apprenticeship.” She blew out a breath, looking down the street, as if contemplating her walk home. “I'm at 12
^th
Street and Second Avenue. Near NYU.”

“That's quite a walk.”

“Well, if I crap out, I'll catch a cab.”

He looked into those green eyes and felt himself tumble into her.

Was it weird that he could feel his skin when he was with her?

All the more reason to get his ass home. “Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.”

She didn't smile, didn't respond, just held his gaze. Like they were the only two people in New York City. She gave a sharp intake of breath, and then her tongue peeked out, swiping along her bottom lip. “Right, so, thanks again. You were awesome today. Bye.”

He watched her walk away, and he felt it. Every step she took made his pulse spike harder and faster. Until it became unbearable. “Hey. Sweet pants?”

She turned back around, a flare of hope in her eyes.

“Want me to walk you home?” He'd leave his truck in the parking garage. Catch a cab back uptown later.

She drew a sharp breath. “It wouldn't suck.”

Calix wasn't sure why he was boarding the elevator in her steel-and-glass high-rise, but he'd come this far. He might as well get her to her apartment.

The moment the doors closed, she leaned against the wall, and a slow bloom of satisfaction spread across her pretty features. “I did it,” she said quietly. “I freaking did it.”

Somehow standing so close to her in this dimly lit box made him forget all his reasons to stay away from her. He wanted her. Plain and simple. There was something irresistible about this girl. He caught her hand in his, brought it to his mouth, and kissed her open palm. “You did. You were fantastic.”

“You helped me.”

“Don't think they'll be giving you offal.”

“Not that.” She touched his arm, like she needed his attention. “You were the voice in my head, reminding me to trust my instincts. You gave me confidence. Every time I started to freak out, I looked at you in the audience, and your badass energy picked me up. Every single time. I needed that.” Her smile was filled with affection. “You made me feel like I could do it.”

“You could. You did.”

She didn't look tired anymore. Her features softened, her lips parted. A crazy energy spun through him, throwing out images—those sultry eyes looking up at him, her mouth wrapped around his cock. He could picture it so vividly, his fingers touching her lips as she sucked him deep, and an explosion of erotic sensation burst in his chest.

The car landed, and the doors opened. Mimi took one step forward and winced.

He stopped her. “You okay?”

“Just a blister.”

That was all the invitation he needed. He scooped her off her feet and stepped off the elevator. Lowering his nose into her sweetly scented hair, he breathed her in. Need rocked through him, and he held her more tightly to his chest.

“Calix.” But she didn't pack any fight in her tone.

He carried her down the hallway. “Which one?”

Instead of answering, she tucked her face into his neck and clasped her arms around him. “Thank you.” Her breath was warm on his skin, and her fingers curled in his hair.

Something hot and alive moved through him. “Gonna run out of carpet in a minute.”

“Is it terrible to say I don't care? I think I want to stay like this forever. You feel so good, and I'm so tired.”

“Come on, sweet pants.”

“Fine.” Big, dramatic sigh. “Six twenty-two. See that crystal chandelier?” She didn't even lift her head. “My door's closest to it.”

“Key.”

She started to pull away from him, but the loss of her touch made him tighten his grip. When he didn't let go, she lifted her head to look at him.

They'd never been this close. Close enough to see the pale nick of a scar right at her cheekbone, that expressive mouth, and the question in her eyes. Need burned through him, sending electrical impulses down his spine and through his dick. He needed her bare, warm skin against his. Needed the wet heat of her mouth, the slick tangle of her tongue. He needed . . . oh, fuck him.

His mouth settled over hers, and sparks fired in his blood. Her body turned toward him, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. The hunger took over, and he swept his tongue across her lips, licking inside her mouth.

With a sharp intake of breath, she was kissing him back. And holy hell, this wasn't some gentle exploration. This was mouth-fucking.

She clutched the back of his neck, her tongue stroking his, and raw desire streaked though him, setting him on fire.

Keeping his arm firmly around her waist, he set her down. But if she thought he was letting her go—not a chance. He just repositioned her so he could lift her against the wall and spread those legs around his hips. Nothing could stop his body from pressing into her and taking that mouth he'd fantasized about for months.

Her tits, her hands, the way she writhed against him, spun him into a frenzy. “Jesus, Mimi.” And then she was making noises, hot, hungry purrs deep in her throat.
This feels so fucking good
. He ground his cock against her stomach. Heat blistered through him.

“God.” The back of her head hit the wall, and she fought to pull her legs out of his grip.

It took him a moment to shift gears, but he slowly lowered her to the floor. She looked as shaken as he felt. His knees barely supported him, so he braced both arms against the wall to hold himself up.

He needed a moment to cool down. Jesus, he'd never had a kiss like that.

All he could hear were her exhalations as she fought to catch her breath. She fumbled in her big black bag. Her hand shook as she pulled a set of keys out of the inside pocket. After the third attempt to stab the keyhole, he took the key and unlocked the door.

The moment they stepped into the entryway, she dropped her bag and kicked off her sneakers.

His heart still hadn't calmed down. And his dick—his dick needed relief in the worst way. “I'm gonna use the head.”

“The what?”

“Bathroom, sweet pants. Gonna take a leak.”

“Right. Okay.” She moved into the living room of the small but tidy apartment. “It's just right there.”

To the left sat a plain galley kitchen. White walls, white cabinets, small stainless steel appliances. To the right, a short hallway—more like a vestibule with two doorways. One went to her bedroom, the other to the bathroom.

Shutting himself inside the good-sized space, all chrome, white, and dark red, he was immediately assailed by her scent. The tiled shower stall held a loofah brush hanging off the faucet by a rope. The corner pockets were wide enough to hold a couple bottles of hair products and one of body wash. Two ruby red bath towels hung neatly over a rack by the door.

Calix caught a look at himself in the spotless mirror. His body was still coming down off the high of that kiss. Sure, he'd had quick and fiery hookups before. Obviously. That was the fun of it. But what had he expected to happen with Mimi?

Fuck. He lowered his head, closing his eyes. This woman brought shit out in him. Not good shit either. As evidenced by the fact he'd driven her to New York City. And stayed.

It was one thing to offer her a ride. A friend would do that. But to stay for the show? To walk her home? What was that?

When he came out, he found her on the couch in a pair of light blue sweats and a white sweatshirt. “I'm gonna head out.”

“Okay. Sure.” She didn't even get up.

“You good?”

“Great. I'm just going to order take-out and watch a movie.”

“Right. See you.”

Hand on the door, he felt this strange pull. He didn't want to leave her. And the fuck of it all . . . it wasn't about blowing his nut.

“Calix?”

“Yeah.” He didn't turn to face her. Didn't want to see that pretty hair she'd unbraided. The flush in her cheeks from their kiss that hadn't yet subsided.

“It's okay, what just happened. I mean, it's been a crazy day. It just . . . happened. We're okay.”

Okay?
He couldn't remember the last time a woman had gotten him so worked up.
Go.
He opened the door. “'Night.”

He hurried out before he turned back and did something stupid like cuddle with her on the couch.

*   *   *

Sitting
on the edge of his chair in the studio's lounge, Calix typed out a text to his dad.
You coming to the listening party tonight?

No.
And then a second one came in a moment later.
Keep an eye on Gus.

Yep.
Wasn't much he could do. Gus was his own man. But Calix knew what his dad meant. Other than his two years at Julliard, Gus had lived at home. And he was restless. Anyone could see that.

“I'm just glad Irwin'll get to hear what we've been doing.” Cooper lay stretched out on a couch.

“No shit.” Ben reached for the water bottle on the table. “None of this would've happened if he'd been in town.”

“True,” Derek said. “He would've been out here, listening to the tracks. Four fuckin' months, man. What a waste.”

“Can't wait to see his face when he listens tonight,” Coop said.

Several Amoeba Records executives were coming out to hear the tracks. Irwin would listen at the same time and participate over Skype.
Should be interesting
.

“How long has Slater been in the iso booth, man?” Derek checked his phone.

“We should pull the plug before Dak destroys his vocal chords,” Ben said.

Derek got up. “I'll kill the session right now.”

“Tell him we're taking a break till Irwin hears the shit,” Ben said.

“Don't need to lie.” Derek headed into the control room.

Calix got up. “All right, I'm out. See you at the party tonight.”

“Check with Dak first, man,” Coop said.

“I'm only a half hour away. If he needs me, text.” As soon as Calix left the studio, he headed for his bike, unable to resist a glance through the kitchen window.

Disappointment at not seeing Mimi pissed him off. He was getting too caught up in her.

And kissing her like that last night? Not cool. She wasn't just some chick he could bang. Tonight at the party he'd apologize. Get them back on track.

As he neared his bike, he noticed the garage door was open. He heard a growl and then, “Fuck me in a teacup.”

Mimi.
He smiled at the pure exasperation in her voice and headed toward her.

Sitting on a crate, features beet red, she held a half-inflated palm tree between her legs. She looked up when she saw him. “Is this what it's like to be stoned?” At least a dozen trees surrounded her. Not to mention plastic lobsters and clams and fisherman's netting.

“You've never gotten wasted?”

She shook her head. “Or like I sucked helium. Yeah, that's what it feels like. Does my voice sound funny?”

“Why're you doing this by yourself?”

“I'm sorry, should I have asked my valet to do it?”

“Your what?” He laughed. “No, you should've asked Emmie or Violet. I'm sure Lee would've helped.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Why not?” He crouched before her and, without even thinking, stroked the hair off her damp forehead.

“I'm trying to stay out of all things Bourbon.”

“That's going to be hard to do.”

She looked up at him questioningly.

“Cooking lessons?”

“Oh, you know. I'm good.” She looked away. “I got this.”

“Mimi?” He crouched in front of her. “I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have kissed you like that.”

“It wasn't the kiss that upset me.” Sometimes her sincerity, the pureness in her heart, flipped him out. “It was the way you left. You shut down.”

He wasn't used to people being so direct, but he found he liked it with her.

“I hate when you do that. You're all fiery and passionate one minute, and then hard and cold the next.”

“Won't happen again.” He didn't address which behavior he meant—the kissing or the shutting down. “I still think we should continue the lessons. My dad told me about the
clambake. He said my mom was into it. So, if it's good for you and good for her . . .” He shrugged.

“Yeah, okay. I guess so.” She lifted the nozzle of the tree to her mouth, essentially dismissing him.

“How're you getting all this shit to the beach?”

She made a strange motion with her hand, and it took a moment to figure out she was pretending to hold a magic wand.

“Mimi.”

“Well, obviously, I'm carrying it.”

“By yourself?”

“No, the seven dwarves should be here any minute now.”

“Someone's feisty today.” He got up, knees cracking. “The guys are just sitting around the studio. I'll get them.”

“No, no. They're digging the pit and getting the fire going. And I've rented a tent and a bar, so all that's left is decorating. Believe me, I can handle setting tables and hanging lobsters.”

She went back to inflating the palm tree.

“How many more of those do you have to blow up?”

She nudged a box toward him with a bare foot, her toenails painted lavender with tiny black treble clefs on them. He pulled out the remaining bags of palm trees. “That's a lot of fuckin' palm trees.”

Pinching the base of the nozzle, she pulled her mouth off. “Go big or stay on the porch. That's how I roll.”

He looked at her, sweaty, flushed, surrounded by all kinds of decorations, and a rush of affection knocked him on his ass.

“You're a nut.” A beautiful, spirited, compassionate nut. He sat down and tore open a plastic bag.

She looked at him, surprised, and he tried to ignore those pink lips wrapped around the clear tube.

Yeah, that was not going to happen.

*   *   *

“Meems!”
In a simple but sexy blue and white maxi dress, Violet wrapped Mimi up in a hug, her distinctive soft floral scent floating around her. “You did such a great job.”

“You really did.” Emmie joined them. While her sundress
appeared basic, it molded to her curves in a fantastically sexy way. Funny thing about Emmie. Her girl-next-door good looks were deceiving. She was a knock-out. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks, guys.” Standing in the corner of the tent, next to the bar, Mimi took in her work. Burlap-covered metal pails of sand held cardboard cutouts of leaping dolphins. The blue and green glow sticks she'd inserted added a very cool ambiance in the dimly lit space. Calix had helped her hang nets from the ceiling. They'd loaded them with plastic clams, lobsters, and fish.

It did look pretty cool. And she'd surprised herself by enjoying it so much.

“Those desserts?” Emmie said. “To die for.”

“They're all her grandma's recipes,” Violet said with a note of pride.