Take Me Home Tonight (26 page)

“You're so beautiful, Mimi.” His fingers swept up and around her neck, kneading the muscles. When he leaned forward, his erection slid into the pool of creamy lotion and glided across her stomach. The sizzle of awareness had her squirming.

She reached for him, desperate to feel him in her hand, but he pushed back with a shake of his head and a tortured smile.

“I want you, Calix.” Oh, God, the man drove her wild. With creamy lotion on her hand, she covered his erection, stroked, and watched him burn with passion. God, she loved the hot, hard feel of him, the way his nostrils flared as his hips flexed, pumping his cock into her fist.

His fingers worked the muscles of her arms, inciting a riot of goose bumps, then moved slowly back up to her shoulders. The pleasure of his touch made her body sing and thrum. Those big hands massaged her slowly, sensuously, making her feel like she was floating.

Until the bastard reached her breasts. He pushed them together, his thumbs flicking her nipples. An arrow of lust shot straight to her core, making her arch into his touch. His expression turned feral as he watched his hands move in slow, sensuous circles, plumping them, her nipples peeking through his fingers.

Her arousal blazed out of control. Callused fingers slid over the sensitive beads, making her throb between her legs. “Okay, sweet cheeks.” She could barely get the words out. “You're killing me here.”

She gave his cock a lusty squeeze, and he shuddered. As she stroked him with both hands, his breathing turned choppy. He lowered his head, eyes closing.

He made the sexiest sounds as he supported his weight on both arms, hovering over her as she stroked his length.

She rose off the pillow, never taking her hands off him. “I want you in my mouth.”

The look of surprise softened into a pained smile. And then he swooped in for a kiss. “You're so fucking hot.”

Pushing him onto his back, she slid down the bed. Gripping the base, she licked the head of his cock, glided the flat of her tongue down that hot, throbbing length, and then sucked him to the back of her throat. Everything about this man lit her up.

His eyes rolled back in his head as his hips punched up. “Fuck.”

We'll get to that next.

*   *   *

The
next morning, when Calix entered the studio, he found the guys sitting in the lounge, tuning instruments. It pissed him off that Gus wasn't there, that he hadn't given up Laney and fought to get his job back. Both times he'd talked to his brother over the phone this past week, he'd barely been able to hear him over the party noises in the background.

Part of Calix understood. Gus was making up for the college years he'd missed out on. The other, bigger part, though, worried for the kind of trouble his brother could get into. Because it wouldn't just impact Gus.

And the uncertainty of what might happen was stressing Calix the hell out.

“Since when do I give a shit about mansions?” Ben said. “I'd buy a boat.”

“A boat?” Cooper said. “The only boat you've ever seen was in your bathtub when you were two.”

“Hello? Lake Austin? I lived there for eleven years.”

“How 'bout you, Calix?” Derek said. “These guys're spending the money they haven't made yet.”

“Coop's gonna buy a Maserati,” Ben said.

“I
said
I'm going to buy my mom a house first.”

Calix remembered that Coop's mom was an addict. He had the impression she'd been sober a few years now, though. A house seemed like a good choice.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “But that's so you can have a garage to park your sweet ride.”

Coop smiled. “Thanks for listening. You get me, you really get me.” He fell on top of Ben, and the two wound up on the floor wrestling.

His dad came out of the control room. “Calix.”

“Hey, Dad. Listen, I need to leave early today.”

“What's up?” Slater said.

“Mimi's fourth show. I missed the third, and I'm not gonna do that again.”

Derek sent a look to Slater. “I'll bet Violet would like to see that.”

Slater nodded. “Let's do it.”

“Bet your mom would like it, too.” His dad pulled out his cell phone. “You think we can get tickets for this many people?”

He had no idea how getting a block of tickets worked, but Mimi would like the support so he'd find out. “Let me look into it.” Then again, it was all about ratings, right? Blue Fire and 100 Proof in the audience? Yeah, he figured they'd find enough seats.

As he opened up the search engine on his phone, he heard the guys talking about seeing Mimi. It wasn't about sitting in the audience of a television show. It was about Mimi. And that hit him hard. That these guys cared enough about her to take time off work. She'd said they were like her family, and now he could see why she felt that way. They acted like one.

These were good guys. Really good guys. A yearning tore through him—to dig deep into the music, become part of the creation, the words, instrumentation, vocalization, just
immerse completely—fuck, he missed that. He
needed
it. And these guys—

An image of his mom in her art studio jolted him. Sweaty, exhausted, deep grooves around her mouth and eyes.

Yeah, just . . . not the right time
.

“Okay.” Terrence clapped his big paws together. “Let's talk about what we're gonna do today.”

Calix swiped it out of his mind and focused on what mattered right then. Gathering everyone around Mimi.

*   *   *

Calix
kept his eyes on the monitor. He couldn't even say what the other two contestants had made. He'd focused on Mimi the whole time. And she was a star.

Now, the three remaining contestants faced the panel of judges, with Deborah, the spa cook, standing in front of the line-up.

“I don't know what to tell you.” Zoe, the spike-haired, severe woman who'd rarely found a nice thing to say to any of them, looked like she'd swallowed a bug. “Your food is simply bland. I know you work for a spa, but we're not looking for clean, healthy food here. This is your chance to experiment, have some fun, but you're not. I'm not seeing you adapting. And for that reason I'm giving you a one for innovation. But since you always pull together a very pretty plate, I'll give you a four for presentation. And quick thinking?” She shrugged.
Whatever.
“A three.”

“That was harsh.” Cooper elbowed him. “She gonna shred Mimi, too?”

Calix nodded. “Count on it.”

Leaning across Violet, Emmie tapped his knee and nodded toward the stage.

Mimi had stepped forward, hands clasped at the small of her back.

“Okay, Ms. Romano,” Verna said. “Tell us what you've prepared.”

“I've made a caramelized cod on a bed of
ciambotta
with crispy polenta strips.”

“Sounds awesome.” Verna gestured to the first judge. “Chef Alonso, what do you think?”

The chef looked at Mimi as if she were his daughter and had just finished her dance recital.
Too bad her dad didn't give her that.
“I saw the way you looked at that fennel bulb, Ms. Romano, and I wasn't sure how this was going to go.” He looked to the other judges. “She wears it all on her sleeve, doesn't she?”

The severe woman gave no response, but the older gentleman smiled warmly.

Calix agreed with the judge. And that was one of the things he liked best about Mimi. She was straight up. He always knew where he stood. That gave him a comfort he didn't fully understand.

“But I have to say when I saw you making, essentially, a ratatouille, I was worried. Fennel in a ratatouille? My palette revolted. But then you caramelized the fish, and it started to come together for me. The fennel with carrots, potatoes, and sage was magnificent and the dish paired beautifully with the cod. But the crispy polenta?” He clapped his hands together. “With a slightly sweet and soft main course, you were clever to add something savory and crispy. I didn't see you add much more than salt, pepper, and parmigiana to the polenta, but it was sensational. I give you three fives. Well done.”

The audience exploded with applause. So far no one had scored fives across the board.

“Thank you, Chef,” Mimi said. “And it's the wine.”

“Excuse me?” the chef asked.

“In my family, we add a little Merlot.”

“Ah.” The chef took another bite of the polenta and closed his eyes. “Yes. Oh, excellent.” When he opened them, he turned to his colleague. “Isn't that fabulous?”

“Well, I'd say Ms. Romano knocked this one out of the park,” Verna said. “Mr. Simmons?”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but classic
ciambotta
is tomatoes, zucchini, potatoes, onions . . . maybe eggplant?” Mr. Simmons asked.

Chef Alonso nodded.

“So, then using the fennel to create the dish is quite
innovative,” he continued. “I'm not a fennel fan, but I quite enjoyed it here.” His lips pressed together, eyebrows lifted, and he said, “I liked everything about it. I'll give you a four for quick thinking, a five for innovation, and a five for presentation.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Yes!” Violet pumped her fist a few times.

Cooper let out a wolf whistle, and Ben shouted, “Go, Mimi!”

Laughter moved like a wave across the audience, and the male judges nodded their approval.

But not Zoe.

“Chef Zoe?” Verna said.

“Your fan base keeps growing with each show. And who did you bring with you today?”

“That's Blue Fire, the band I cook for.”

“We love you, Mimi,” Cooper called.

She flushed prettily. “Love you, too, Coop.”

“Since you're not being judged by the company you keep,” Zoe said, “let's get on with your dish.” She spat the last word out like a husk in her oatmeal.

“What a bitch,” Coop said.

Zoe sneered at the white plate. “Let's just say you saved this dish by adding the crispy polenta. Otherwise, between the fish and the soggy ratatouille, I could've gummed it. But, and here I'm going to respectfully disagree with my
very
agreeable colleagues, I don't see any innovation. You fall back on your Italian heritage every time. I'd almost rather have your father on the show than his protégée daughter.”

“Oh, no, she didn't,” Violet said a little too loudly.

“She's so insulting,” Emmie said.

“So, I'm going to give you a three for quick thinking because you did pull together quite a few dishes in the limited time frame. As for presentation, why is it that you always seem to forget about it until the last moment? And then, in your haste, you simply toss a sprig of some herb and a splash of color? I'm afraid I can only give you a two for that. And a one for innovation because, like I said, you can't seem to break out of your Italian comfort zone.”

“I'm no chef, but crispy polenta strips?” Violet whispered to him. “That's pretty innovative.”

“Thank you, Chef Zoe.” Mimi nodded, looking deceptively relaxed. “I appreciate the feedback.”

Mimi stepped back into the line-up, her gaze immediately seeking Calix out. He knew the lights made it hard for her to see him, but he always knew when it happened. The moment their gazes connected, static electricity flashed across his skin.

Derek leaned across Violet. “Mimi rocks.”

He couldn't keep the smile off his face because she did.

And when the voice in his head whispered,
Mine
, not a single part of him rebelled.

*   *   *

Mimi's
father gave them a private room in one of his Upper West Side restaurants. The eleven of them sat around one long table in a dimly lit room with stone walls.

Calix sat back in his chair, enjoying the conversations around him. Across from him, Slater and Derek were arguing over bass players.

“Wooten might be funkier than Pastorious,” Slater said. “But he's still a fuckin' master.”

“Can't touch Pastorious,” Derek said.

“You haven't seen him live,” Slater said.

“He's good. I'm just saying he's no Pastorious.”

Huddled together at one end of the table, his sister and Ben nearly touched foreheads as they talked quietly to each other.
Where did that come from?
Then again, Lee seemed to like bad boys—rockers, in particular. Although Ben didn't strike him as all that bad.

When Mimi's hand squeezed his thigh, he tuned into her conversation with his parents.

“Doesn't matter what you think.” His mom's exercised tone surprised him. “It's about points. It's down to the two of you, and you can't afford any deductions.”

“She's got thirty minutes,” his dad said. “She's gotta make a good dish, not worry about impressing a hard-ass judge. She should focus on getting high scores from the other
two judges, and to do that, she needs to knock it out of the park.”

“I'm telling you, anything Italian is out.” His mom had that stubborn look. It made Calix happy to see her so engaged.

“Yeah, but I know I can pull off a good Italian dessert,” Mimi said. “It's what I know best.”

“You do what you want,” his mom said. “But if you want to win this thing, you're gonna have to mix it up, get creative. Because Eleanor may run a tea and coffee house, but she's inventive and clever.”

“She is.” Mimi shot him a glance, looking for confirmation.

“You've got all week to work on desserts.” Calix kissed her. “You've got this.”

Her eyes rounded in surprise, and her fingertips touched her lips. Made him realize he'd never given her that. A public declaration. Which, from her perspective, meant he hadn't fully committed, could bail at any moment, and no one would be the wiser.