Take Me Home Tonight (34 page)

Her
Google Alert chimed, and Mimi pulled her phone out of her bag.

Pedro 10 AM 4 Wall Street
.

In her brief conversation with him, Pedro hadn't seemed all that interested in her proposition. But she'd do a better job talking to him in person with the architectural drawings she'd had drawn up to give him a visual of how his grilled cheese shops would look.

“Morning, Mimi.”

“Morning.” As she strode across the lobby, her heels clicking on the shiny marble floor, she gave her doorman a wave. “If I don't see you before you leave today, have a great vacation.”

“Thanks.”

Shoving her phone into her bag, she pushed through the revolving door and spilled out onto the sidewalk. Before her meeting she needed to head into the office to get the real estate projections—
Oh.

Calix leaned against the side of her building, long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. His worn black T-shirt pulled taut across the hard muscles of his shoulders, and she couldn't help noticing his tan, muscular forearm as he held out a coffee to her.

“Latte. Two sugars, sprinkle of cinnamon.”

In the week since she'd last seen him, he'd continued to send texts and cute, brief e-mails. He wasn't giving up. “What're you doing here?”

With his other hand, he gestured across the street to one of the elegant brownstones. “Renting a place. Well, renting with an option to own. I know you like the neighborhood, and the place is big enough for us and all my equipment. Plenty of bedrooms for when our friends want to crash.”

I love you. I'm in love with you
. With all her heart she wanted to believe him. And maybe one day he really would be ready. But right then? She had to get to work.

Accepting the coffee, she breezed past him, fighting a smile. “See you around, Calix.”

*   *   *

The
sweetest sense of familiarity rushed through her as Mimi watched her friends heading toward the house. Warm water hit her fingers as she rinsed the beaters in the sink, and her heart squeezed with how much she'd enjoyed her weekend on the farm.

In the two weeks she'd been working for her dad's firm, she'd come out here both weekends, but that would end soon. Once her project got greenlighted, she wouldn't have time anymore.

She'd miss this. She'd miss
them
.

With a bang of the screen door, Violet and Derek entered the kitchen.

“How's it going?” Over the past several weeks, the band had auditioned over twenty keyboard players.

“All right, I guess.” Derek grabbed a cookie sandwich off the platter. “How come you never made these for us?” He took a bite.

“Yeah, Meems.” Ben and Cooper slammed into the kitchen and snatched a couple cookies each.

“This is great,” Coop said with a mouthful.

“What I want to know is
why
you're making them.” Violet pulled the lemonade pitcher out of the refrigerator. “You're supposed to be relaxing. You've got a ton of work to do this week to get your project off the ground.”

“This
is
relaxing.” She smiled at the quiet realization.

“What're you working on, Meems?” Ben kicked a chair out with his foot and sat down. “And how come we can't be your project?”

“Life's not the same without you,” Coop said.

“Tell me about the project,” Derek said.

“I'm going to offer small business loans to low-overhead restaurants. The first contestant to get kicked off the show—”

“The grilled cheese dude?” Ben asked.

Mimi set the bowl down to face him. “How did you remember that?”

“We watched.” Cooper seemed surprised she'd ask.

Back in the city, in her dad's office, she felt like a stick figure plodding through life. But here? She came alive. This was her family. Right here. These people she'd spent every day with for a year. Funny how hard she'd tried to be part of her dad's world when she'd already become part of this one.

“I miss you guys.”

“So come back,” Ben said.

“Somehow I don't see her giving up her big-time job with her dad to bake you cookie sandwiches.” Violet carried an armful of glasses to the table.

“But these are good,” Coop said. “Like, unbelievably good. You should open up a bakery or something.”

“Hey, V, would that fit with your products?” Ben asked. “Selling baked shit?”

“She makes tea, ya dope,” Coop said.

“So make it a teahouse,” Derek said.

Mimi shot a look to Violet. Their gazes connected in a shower of sparks.

“That'd be pretty cool,” Coop said. “You could sell all your shit out of that shop. Your tea bags, soaps, potpourri. All that crap.”

“That would make a lot of sense, actually,” Derek said.

Ideas started popping in Mimi's mind. “I think it's a great idea, V.”

“Me, too,” Violet said.

She could see it so clearly. “You can design it like we did your reception. With the tree branches and little white lights. A big bay window and pie chests filled with your products. And then you'd have this display case of all the desserts your customers could choose from.” She picked up a sandwich cookie. She'd made dark chocolate brownie cookies and filled them with pastel-colored cream. Then, she'd dotted the frosting with sprinkles.

The more she thought about it, the sadder she got that she couldn't be a part of it.

Or could she?

Imagine running a teahouse on the farm. Living out here permanently. The very idea sent a rush of joy corkscrewing through her.

What about working with her dad, though? Could she really give up everything she'd worked so hard to build?

And, most important, when would she see him if she moved out here permanently?

Clarity struck with the snap of a wrist. She'd spent twenty-four years chasing after her dad, begging for his attention. Wasn't it time to stop? Let him come to her?

“Would you do this with me?” Violet asked, her voice filled with so much hope.

“I want to.” Images rained down over her like confetti. “Whitewashed wood floors and antique china plates. Vintage cake platters. All those pretty desserts.”

“It would fit perfectly here. Meems, we could be like the Serendipity of Eden's Landing. We'd be advertised in all the
tourist guides. Can you imagine? Our wildflower tea and your desserts? We'd design it just how you envision it.”

“I love it. I just don't think I can.” Give up everything she worked so hard for to run a teahouse?

“Of course you can,” Derek said. “You can do anything you want.”

“What about my job?”

“This would be your job,” Violet said. “We'd do it together.”

Derek's phone buzzed, and he whipped it out of his pocket. “Another guy's coming for an audition.”

“When? Now?” Ben said.

“I thought we were done for the day,” Cooper said.

“Terrence just texted.” Derek pocketed the phone with a strange grin. “Said the guy's coming by right now.”

“Fuck that,” Ben said. “I'm hungry. What's for dinner, Meems?”

“She's not cooking you dinner,” Derek said. “She's out here for a visit. You cook
her
dinner.”

“Sorry, guys. I've got a train to catch. I have to get to work early tomorrow.”

“Mimi,” Violet said. “Hang on. All that work you're going to put in so other people can realize their restaurant dreams . . . why not realize your own?”

“I don't have restaurant dreams.”

“You think about that bakery idea all the time. Why not make it happen? Besides, it wouldn't be like a bakery. You wouldn't make the same things every day. And once we got going, we could hire people so you could continue to cater events for the band.”

“Why just the band?” Ben asked. “Irwin would hire her for all his events.”

“Hell,” Cooper said, sounding excited. “
Amoeba
would.”

A rumble of energy got her pulse spiking. Oh, now that sounded really good.

Would she really give up her job to do this?

“Slater's on his way.” Derek tipped his chin, indicating they look out the kitchen window.

Slater and Emmie swung hands as they walked down the
road. Emmie threw her head back and laughed, and Slater tugged on her so that her body collided with his, and he buried his face in her neck.

“What do you want, Mimi?” Violet asked. “In your heart, what do you want?”

If she took out wanting to be with her dad, what would she want to do with her life?

The image of the teahouse—
her
teahouse—hers and Violet's—sparkled like a glossy ad in a magazine.

It was a no-brainer.

“Why's everyone coming here to audition another guy?” Ben asked.

The doorbell rang.

“We're about to find out.” Derek headed off to answer it.

“Well, I can tell you already he's not gonna work,” Coop said. “Thinks he's too good for an actual audition? I don't care if he's Keith Emerson, he's gonna have to play for us.”

“Oh, Christ, just what we need,” Ben said. “Another Dak. Like we give a shit about his fuckin' résumé.”

“He's gotta fit,” Coop said. “He's got to smoke those keys, and he's gotta fit in with us.”

“All right, I'm out of here.” Mimi made sure she'd turned off the oven. “Ach. I'm leaving you with a sink full of dishes.”

“We got it, Meems,” Ben said.

“Thanks, guys.”

“I'll get my keys.” Violet headed out of the kitchen while Ben and Coop scooped Mimi into their arms for bear hugs.

“Miss you, Meems,” Cooper said.

“Kick some ass out there,” Ben said.

And then voices. One voice in particular. Deep, raspy, incredibly sexy.

The voice that made her heart jump into her throat.

Why would he come by when they were auditioning someone to replace him?

And then he was in the kitchen. His easy demeanor turned tense when he saw the guys touching her. He didn't need to say a word for Coop and Ben to quickly take their hands off her.

“Dude. What're you doing here?” Ben gave him a man hug.

Calix never took his gaze off hers.

“He's auditioning,” Derek said.

He was joining the band? Committing to them. What did this mean? What the hell did this mean? But she knew from the way he looked at her that he was all in.

The guys kept talking—
You serious, man? You're in? Fuck, yeah
—as Calix slowly walked toward her.

“Meems, you ready?” Violet hitched her purse over her shoulder, keys in hand.

Her body went hot, and her cheeks flamed. And then Calix was right in front of her. Knees bent, arms banding around her hips.

And then she was in the air.

“Calix?” Violet said. “Oh.”

The guys, the kitchen, the living room, everything was a blur around her. Her heart beat painfully, and she could barely take a breath. He swept her up the stairs, kicked open the door to her bedroom, and dropped her on the bed.

He towered over her with an expression that brooked no argument. Those warm, dark eyes, so intense, so demanding, told her everything.

She had a hard time catching her breath. “We should . . . talk.”

“Said what I had to say.” With a snap, he tore open the buttons of his jeans.

“Yeah, but—”

He lunged for her, covering her mouth with his. And he took her, claimed her, kissing her senseless. “I love you, Mimi, and if you think for one fuckin' second I'm gonna let you get away, you're outta your mind.”

“But if—”

“No buts, sweet pants.” He pulled back, sitting on the edge of the bed to dump his boots on the floor, then toss his jeans. “This past week sucked. It hurt to breathe without you. Nothing tasted right.” In black boxer briefs, he stretched out alongside her, his hand sweeping a slow path up her rib cage. “I love you. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it's not gonna happen again.”

“Yeah?” Hard to concentrate when his thumb stroked the underside of her breast.

“I got stuck in my own head. I couldn't see beyond my own guilt. Turns out my mom had guilt of her own. And instead of helping each other, we were keeping each other stuck. You unstuck me.”

“Well, I'm happy for you, and you can send me a nice gift card if that'll make you feel better, but as for us—”

“Spitfire.” He gently tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “I love you, Amelia Romano. I love you because you're the strongest person I know. I love your spirit. We're a stubborn bunch of bastards, my family, and we don't let many people in, but you broke through. I love your passion. I need it. Because it matches mine, and I shut mine down. But you brought it back out. You brought me out. And I'm not letting you go. I'm not.”

“But I . . .”

“You love me?”

It flooded her. Rushed her so hard she lost her breath. “Yes.”

“You gonna let me spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me?”

“The idea has a certain appeal.” She reached for him, clasping the back of his head and bringing him in for a kiss. “But you're gonna have to get a move on it. I've got a train to catch.”

His smile bloomed deliciously across his handsome face. And then his big, warm hand covered her breast, and he leaned in to lick her nipple. “Fuck the train. You're stayin' here with me.”

Happiness spread through her, thick and warm. “No place I'd rather be.”

“I thought this was a teahouse?”

The older woman peered up at Mimi with a confused expression, teacup halfway to her coral-colored lips.

“It is, Mrs. Mahoney.” On the round table covered with a crisp white linen tablecloth, the tea service included a china pot with mismatched plates and antique silverware. A tiered pewter dessert stand held tea sandwiches in egg salad, ham, brie and apple, salmon cucumber, and steak
au poivre
.

“But this is a brownie. Brownies aren't served at a tea.”

Violet breezed by with a large crate. “It's actually
torta Barozzi
, Mrs. Mahoney. Try it. You'll think you've gone to heaven.” She set the box down in front of the pie chest and began stocking the shelves with her wildflower-based products.

“But I wanted scones.”

“Then you'll have scones.” Mimi shot Violet a quick smile. She didn't bother reminding the woman she'd chosen her own desserts from the display case.

“And clotted cream.” The woman looked genuinely upset.

Mimi gently nudged the ramekin toward her. “This is the clotted cream.” The grand opening for Four O'Clock Farm's
Tea Party didn't start for another two hours, but they'd invited their elderly neighbor in early, since she'd stopped by every day for the past several months to check on the progress. Few new businesses opened this far out on Long Island, and fewer still were associated with rock bands.

Okay, none were. Just this one.

“Oh.” Mrs. Mahoney brought the container to her nose and sniffed. “I thought it was butter.”

Mimi smiled. “Is there anything else I can get you?” As she reached for the cake to take it away, the woman's eyebrows shot up and her hand made a grab for the plate.

“Well, hold on. I want some heaven.”

“Then you'll have it, Mrs. Mahoney.” Finished stocking, Violet turned to take in the room. She and Mimi shared a smile. They'd created a magical, whimsical teahouse. Everything she'd envisioned they'd brought to life.

Mimi smiled warmly at her elderly neighbor. “You can have heaven
and
scones. We have—” But before she could describe the scone selection, the woman bit into the deep chocolate tart and her eyelids fluttered closed, a look of rapture softening her features.

“Oh. Oh, my. Oh, my Lord.” Her eyelids popped open. “This is
divine
.”

Someone rapped at the door. “Excuse me.” Mimi stepped out onto the porch to find a group of teenage girls. “Hey, ladies. Did you come for the grand opening? Because we're not open just yet, and we're solidly booked for the next several weeks.” Reaching inside to the hostess stand, she grabbed a postcard-sized menu. “Give us a call, and we'll reserve a table for you.”

“We don't want tea.” One girl stepped forward. “Is Blue Fire here?”

Mimi held back a laugh. “They're actually on tour.” Her heart pinched, missing Calix and wishing so much he could've been home for the opening. Of course, she had more help than she could possibly need, but still. She hated when they weren't together.

“When will Slater be here?” one of the girls at the back of the group asked.

“They'll be away for several months.” And once the teahouse was on solid ground, Mimi and Violet would join their men off and on throughout the six-month tour. “You know, they won't really come here all that often.” She noticed the T-shirts and posters they carried. “But if you want to leave those, I can have them sign them when they come back to town.”

One of the girls perked up, readily handing over her items, but the leader scowled. “No, thank you. We want them to sign in person. We'll come back.”

“Okay, then.” Mimi went back inside the restaurant just as the kitchen door swung open.

“Amelia.” Her dad raced out in a white apron that said,
I don't need a recipe, I'm Italian.
“For God's sake, we're out of ricotta.”

“Of course we're not.” How could they be? They hadn't even opened their doors. “We have more than enough.”

“Look in the refrigerator. Look. There is no more ricotta. How can I make my
cannoli
?”

“What're you shouting about?” her mom asked, coming out of the kitchen with a stack of sky blue cake boxes and peach satin ribbon.

“Ricotta.” Her dad sounded affronted. “How can we open for tea without the
cannoli
?”

“We're not out, Dino.”

Mimi loved her mom's soothing tone. It was great seeing her parents in a whole new relationship. After the divorce, Francesca had cut herself off from her ex as she sought to find her true self. Mimi knew her dad had missed his wife terribly, and it was good to see them becoming friends. History enabled them to know just how to comfort and support each other. And since Irwin knew he had Francesca's whole heart, he didn't mind.

Well, not much anyway.

“You ordered too much to fit in this refrigerator, so I stocked it in the in-law house. I'll go get some.” Her mom set the supplies down. “How many do you need?”

A strange
thwap thwap thwap
sounded overhead. At that same moment Calix's mom came in the back door of the
kitchen, carrying the notebook they used for the event planning side of the business. The record label was throwing a huge party for Blue Fire's recent Grammy win, and Sweet Cheeks Event Planners had scored the job. Lee was kicking herself for not getting to participate, but she'd just started at FIT for the spring semester and couldn't afford to miss anything. It was hard enough for her to get back into the groove of school after so many years.

A thunderous sound had all of them racing outside to see what was happening.

“Why's a helicopter landing on your property?” Mimi asked as they all lined up to watch.

A huge green and white chopper set down in the middle of the wildflower field. Her dad stood with his arms at his sides, looking like a gunslinger from the Wild West, ready to draw.

The rotors slowed, the door opened, and the stairs came down.

Out walked Slater-fucking-Vaughn with a pink baby carrier strapped to his chest. The big, muscular man had a hand on his little girl's bottom and another on the back of her head as he leaned low to clear the blades. Once on the ground, he turned to wait for Emmie, and the two of them held hands as they headed toward the teahouse.

Mimi leaned into Violet. “What the hell?”

“I have no idea.”

“They have a show in Columbus tonight.”

Violet turned to her in alarm. “Maybe something's wrong with the baby?”

“No, we'd have heard.”

They both turned back, waiting for Slater and Emmie to reach them.

Violet looked concerned. “Derek didn't tell me a thing.”

And then the doorway of the aircraft filled with Calix's big, hard body. His gaze sought and found hers instantly, and Mimi took off. By the time he hit the ground, she was flying into his arms.

He caught her, held a hand on top of her head as he hustled her away from the now-still rotors. She breathed in his
familiar scent and kissed his neck. “What're you
doing
here?”

“Not gonna miss my girl's opening.” She loved that deep, sexy voice in her ear.

“But you're on tour. You've got sound check at three.”

“Sound check's covered. Besides, the flight's just over an hour.”

“Calix.”

“You happy to see me?”

She gave him a teasing smile. “Well, I was kind of in the middle of something.”

His smile widened. “Yeah, well, you're about to be in the middle of something else.” Cupping her ass and lifting her legs around his waist, he stalked toward the in-law house they shared while their new house was being renovated about half a mile down the road.

“You hardly need to carry me.” She rubbed her nose against his scruffy cheek, breathing in his familiar masculine scent. “I'm pretty willing, if you know what I mean.”

“I've only got you for a few hours. Not gonna let you go.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Don't want you to let me go.”

“Never, sweet pants.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you so much, Calix Bourbon.”

“I love you more.”

Cupping his cheek, she whispered, “Show me.”

He kissed her, right there in the middle of the wildflowers, the bright sun shining down on them. “Count on it.” He nuzzled her ear. “Every single day for the rest of your
life.”