Yeah, Vince wouldn’t have had a leg left to stand on.
“I’m not sure T has mellowed enough to handle it,” Rhett told her.
Jane nodded. “Normally I would be all for full disclosure and all, but…”
The memory of Terrance’s bloody knuckles flashed through her mind again. No, she couldn’t be sure of what Terrance might do if he learned who Vince was. He hadn’t asked, but there would come a time when he would, and she would have to tell him she wasn’t prepared to share that information yet. It would take more time for her to trust he’d conquered his temper. They were so new together.
Would it be enough for him?
Well, it would have to be. He was supposed to be minding his Ps and Qs so his primetime TV show would go through. Beating Vince to smithereens would harm that—and it would cause unwanted attention to fall on her because of him. The very last thing she wanted was for that chapter of her life to be opened again. If Terrance went after Vince, then the man she feared most would know exactly where to find her. She couldn’t risk that. Not even if it meant Vince would finally feel the same fear and anxiety he’d unleashed on her.
“You’ll back me on keeping Vince’s name out of it?” she asked Rhett.
“Yes.” His sigh ruffled the napkin he was using to wipe his mouth.
“Me too,” Jane responded. “If he asks.”
“Terrance can be pretty tenacious. If he gets something in his mind, he’ll…”
Move mountains, she realized. Intensity. Passion. She’d traced those Chinese letters on his body over and over again last night.
“We’ll take care of it,” Rhett told her and grabbed her hand. “I just want you both to be happy, and if you can find that happiness together, I’ll be over the moon.”
“Me too,” Jane said softly, but even Elizabeth caught the worry in her eyes. Her friend remembered all too well how scared she’d been the night of Terrance’s fight.
“It’ll be fine. We’re just…” She stopped herself from making light of what they had. Her heart knew better.
They’d both admitted to thinking they’d been in love with each other before, but neither of them had gone the next step and said those words in present tense. Yes, Terrance had said she’d captured his heart, but that wasn’t the same. They needed to get to know each other again. There was no rush.
“Don’t fight falling in love, Liz,” Rhett said, patting her hand. “Trust a good ol’ boy on this. At first it might taste like the worst cough syrup on the planet, but after a few sips, you realize it’s intoxicating.”
“Yuck,” Jane said with a laugh. “That has to be the worst description of love I have ever heard. I almost want to send Abbie a dozen red roses after hearing that.”
“You impugning my comparison?” he asked Jane with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
The two of them knew what that look meant.
Jane scooted back her chair until she was perched on the edge of her seat, prepared to run for her life if Rhett followed through.
He lunged for her and scooped her up without even breathing hard, slinging her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She was laughing as she tickled his back, her feet dangling at his waist.
“Aren’t you going to help me, Liz?” Jane asked, lifting her head as best she could.
“Nope. I don’t have any desire to suffer the same fate.”
Rhett laughed as he said, “Smart move, Liz.” Grabbing Jane by the waist, he shifted her and tossed her in the air.
Her friend squealed the moment before he caught her again.
“If only your fans could see you now,” Elizabeth muttered.
Rhett set Jane back down in her chair, grinning like the school boy he was acting like. “Are you kidding? The men would envy the heck out of me. Not every guy gets to scoop two gorgeous women up and throw them in the air.”
Jane smirked at Elizabeth, who shot off her chair and ran toward the bathroom for all she was worth. It was one sanctuary Rhett had never dared cross.
She didn’t make it of course, and soon she was laughing as her hair hung to the floor when he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
Soaking up every minute of their fun, she didn’t protest like Jane usually did. No one had played with her like this growing up, and she felt like she was making up for lost time.
This was her family, and family did funny, crazy things together.
She knew who had her back.
Chapter 23
Fortunately, Wednesday was a slow night at High Stakes, so Terrance left the kitchen in his sous chef’s capable hands and changed out of his work clothes. His chef’s jacket was dotted with sauce since he’d daydreamed about Elizabeth and let a sauce bubble over, a rarity. More embarrassing than his slip, his whole staff seemed to understand what was up with him.
Apparently his Latin dance antics at the beautiful Elizabeth Saunders’ class were currently top tier gossip in town. It was his first taste of small town life. Terrance was used to his life being the fodder for the media, but somehow this was different.
Dare Valley was charming, but he didn’t appreciate knowing his sex life was going to be discussed at Arthur Hale’s Bingo night. Hadn’t Jill chortled with glee when she’d told him about that? Dr. Evil was still wreaking havoc wherever she went. He’d sent up a chocolate soufflé, hoping to sway her from her sinister ways.
Time would tell if she could reform.
Even though he wanted to push his car over the limit to reach Elizabeth’s house, he didn’t speed. Was he acting like a good boy or what? His mother would never have believed it.
The lights were warm and welcoming when he arrived, and he jogged up her steps only to see the door open. Framed behind a sea of soft light, she stood there, naked as the day she was born, Venus come to life from a frothy pool, awaiting her pleasure.
His loins tightened at the sight of her.
“I knew you’d be early,” she said as he reached her.
Yanking her to him, he lowered his mouth to hers, and like usual, they went from hot to combustible in that precious space of a second. He’d never mastered the art of making love to Elizabeth slowly the first time. Seemed like that pattern wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
He shuffled them inside and slammed the door as she tore off his clothes. The bedroom was too far away, and she was so warm and ready, he ended up pressing her against the door and kissing his way down her body.
“I’m hungry,” she said with enough sauce in her voice that he had to fight the urge to take her right then. “I thought you said you’d bring me something to eat.”
He bit the inside of her thigh gently and then kissed the mark. “Later. God, I want you.”
He continued his path of lush kisses inward, and she grew frantic and tense in his arms. She was panting, moaning, and he used everything he could remember about her body to drive her wild. When she came, the sight of her bucking against him was so erotic he had to lock his muscles to keep from entering her. He kissed her instead and nestled her against his chest when she descended back to him.
Those luminous blue eyes finally opened. “Hi.”
Even though he was straining for his own release, he kept a leash on his desire. “Hi.”
“I missed you today.” She trailed her hand down until she wrapped her fingers around his hard length. “Seems you missed me too.”
“Ready for round two?”
Pushing him onto his back on the floor, she straddled him, and the sight of her curvy body with her long blond hair trailing over her shoulders stole his breath.
“Are you?” she breathed out as she took the condom he handed her and rolled it over him.
He didn’t answer, simply rose up to a sitting position and took her mouth again before he finally entered her. Like always, their dance was instinctive. He knew just where to thrust, how deep and how fast, while she knew exactly when to circle her hips and drive him wild.
When their releases came, he felt that familiar pull of something more, something special—the same kind of sensation he had when he created a culinary masterpiece. The kind of emotion that went beyond the everyday and into a whole new realm.
Tucking her close, he didn’t fight the moment, the pull, the feeling, whatever this was with her. She laid her head on his chest, her body soft against him.
“Do you ever wonder what it is between us?” he asked in a low voice.
Her muscles tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “Yes.”
He waited, but she said no more. Neither did he. For both of them, it was enough.
Soon, he realized the hardwood floor was cold, and he needed to clean up, so he stood and extended his hand to her. They made it to the shower, where they enjoyed more fun and games.
Relaxed beyond words, he retrieved the groceries he’d bought from his car. He’d had the foresight to leave them behind before coming to her door, knowing he didn’t want putting away groceries to be the first thing on the menu for them. When he returned, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. She was wearing nothing but a cream silk robe. With that view, he began to sort through the contents of his well-stocked bags.
“You didn’t have to bring groceries,” she chided, but picked up the celery root the size of a pineapple with a puzzled look on her face, turning it over in her hands.
He’d bet a million bucks she didn’t know what it was. Heck, most people wouldn’t. “These ingredients are special. You can’t get them in Dare right now.”
Her look said it all. “So what are you going to make me?”
“A special ingredient arrived today that I want to try out. You up for something unusual?”
She eyed his bags with suspicion now. “You don’t have bull testicles in there, do you?”
Like that would ever be his perfect ingredient. He was a man after all. No way serving up some poor male’s balls would be his Holy Grail. “Fennel pollen.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “Excuse me. Did you say you’re feeding me pollen? Terrance, I am
not
a bee.”
“Could have fooled me. Earlier you sure were buzzing like one.”
She socked him. “Those are sexy sounds, not…insect sounds.”
“I’m not complaining,” he said, taking out the container holding what could be his perfect ingredient.
He’d stared at it earlier after cracking the seal, hoping this would finally be the end of his quest. Inhaling the heady scent of fennel, he’d tasted a pinch. The licorice and citrus had saturated his tongue, and for a moment, it was like tasting the most perfect sunshine on a summer day, the promise of peace palatable. This might be the one.
“I’m going to add it to couscous, along with the most incredible olive oil you have ever tasted from Tuscany.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you.”
Those words did something to him. Suddenly all he could see was her, sitting there under the kitchen lights, her skin still warm and radiant from their lovemaking. Vixen had been so beautiful, but seeing Elizabeth all natural like this… Something shifted in his heart.
The container of fennel pollen fell from his hand onto the counter. He couldn’t see anything but her, didn’t want to see anything else, taste anything else, experience anything else.
“Hey!” she cried. “I’m hungry here, and while I want more sex too, I want to eat first.”
He shook himself. She’d misunderstood his gaze. It hadn’t been lust. It had been…hell, he didn’t know what. Shoving his hand into the grocery bag, he drew out the couscous.
While she sipped the wine he’d brought, a buttery Chardonnay from one of his favorite vineyards in Napa, he cut and pan-fried the celery root chips. The couscous didn’t take long, and as he drizzled olive oil on it, he knew it was the moment of truth.
When he added the fennel pollen, he would discover if it was the perfect ingredient.
Dusting the soft grains with the mustard-colored powder, he drew out a stainless steel spoon and prepared himself. Whatever it was—nirvana or mundane—he was ready to accept the truth.
Taking a delicate portion, he raised it to his lips, inhaled the fragrance of lemons and spice, and then opened his mouth. The couscous was perfectly al dente; the olive oil called to mind ancient and gnarled olive trees of Tuscany; and the fennel powder gave him the vision of a field of those tall green stalks swaying in a gentle breeze on a summer day.
The taste was marvelous.
There was enjoyment, yes, but not that moment where everything stood still. Not that feeling of home, of endless peace.
He set his spoon aside. It wasn’t the perfect ingredient.
Elizabeth jumped off the counter and rubbed his back. “Hey now. It can’t be that bad. I mean your food never sucks.” Taking his spoon, she took a portion and shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes widened. “Wow. I mean, that’s incredible. Why did you look so disappointed?”
“It’s not the perfect ingredient,” he told her. “I keep looking for it, but I haven’t found it yet.”
Somehow he ended up telling her, trusting she wouldn’t think he was crazy or the biggest food nerd on the planet.
“That’s a pretty tall order,” she said when he finished telling her. “Maybe that one thing doesn’t exist. For me, it’s like ice cream, I guess. I eat it when I’m upset, hoping it will fill the hole inside me, but it never does.”
She immediately busied herself with grabbing them plates and silverware, as though she’d revealed too much. Closing the container of fennel pollen, he set aside his hopes and dreams for the ingredient. No, it wasn’t the one, but it was incredible and deserved to be honored in his kitchen.
“I’ll have to make you my Italian gelato,” he told her as he brought the food to the table. Maybe the best ice cream would bring her peace. He wanted that for her more than anything.
“I’d love that,” she replied, watching him as she lit the candles. “But what I said about the ice cream…it’s a bit…heavy. I’m sorry.”
He turned his head and stared at her. “And my story about the perfect ingredient wasn’t? Elizabeth, I
want
you to tell me things like that. No secrets, remember? Come here.”
She crossed to him, and he simply opened his arms. The moment of vulnerability was ripe between them. He held her until he felt himself settle, heard her exhale deeply. He kissed her hair and let her go with a gentle squeeze.