Delightful: Big Sky Pie #3 (14 page)

“Mama and I are trying to figure out what to do with the pies in the cases and the ones in the refrigerators.” He ran a hand through his collar-length, blue-black hair, his expression one she recognized. He was all business at the moment, concentrating on fixing whatever wasn’t working. “They’re perishable.”

“But the kitchen is spotless. Why hasn’t Henry shown up and signed off on the reopening?” Andrea had checked into the procedure. “The judge who okays a closure like ours also gives the Health Department the authority to sign off on our reopening.”

“That little shit.” Quint had an “if I get my hands on him” scowl. “He isn’t answering our phone calls.”

Anger burned through Andrea’s stomach. How dare Dolinski pull this? It was unprofessional and mean. He was tarnishing their reputation with this shutdown. “It’s not like we had cockroaches or rats or
E. coli
. It was a damned series of mishaps. An accident. That can happen to anyone. I will hunt him down.”

“And hang him from the nearest tree? ’Cause I’ll bring the ladder,” Molly said on a little laugh, though Andrea suspected she meant it. At least at this minute. “Oh, dear, I completely forgot to ask, how is Mr. Erikksen? Did he have a concussion? Have you heard anything more about how he’s doing?”

Andrea’s cheeks heated with embarrassment for how much she knew about Ice’s medical condition. She fiddled with the clasp on her purse, not gazing directly at either Quint or Molly. “He suffered a slight concussion, but nothing so serious that he had to stay the night in the hospital.” Nothing so serious he couldn’t make love. Nothing that had kept him from trying for another round or two during the night every time she’d gone into Logan’s room to check on him. “I, er, haven’t seen or spoken with him today, but I’m assuming he’s fine. Oh, and don’t worry about the loss of the merchandise. Ice said he’d pay for whatever damage he’d incurred since this was his fault.”

“Well, money won’t get that runt Dolinski to return our calls and give us the go-ahead to reopen,” Quint groused. “Or, trust me, the doors would already be open.”

“Henry must be a very unhappy man.” Molly actually seemed sorry for the guy. “He derives such pleasure from being mean.”

“Maybe celebrity power would help,” Andrea heard herself suggest.

“Well, so far the mayor’s pleas have fallen on deaf ears,” Quint said. “He won’t even return his mama’s calls.”

“Norma is fit to be tied,” Molly added.

“I’m not talking local celebrities, I’m talking the Hollywood variety.” At their questioning frowns, Andrea explained who Ice’s parents were.

“No shit,” Quint said. “You wouldn’t know it by talking to him.”

“His not flaunting it makes me like him more,” Molly said.

“I doubt his being famous will help the situation.” Quint sighed. “Henry isn’t starstruck by anyone but himself.”

“It was just a thought.” A thought that led her straight back to Ice. She didn’t want to think about him anymore. She clutched her coffee mug with both hands, letting the warmth soak in and calm her. “I noticed Wade’s pickup out back. Is he here?”

Quint nodded, his hair flopping onto his forehead. “Just applying the taping mud to the plasterboard. He claims it’ll be good to go by the end of the day.”

“Molly, has anyone spoken to the Gardeners?” Andrea’s brain was keying in on things that needed to be seen to, calls that needed to be made. “I haven’t been able to reach them, and I thought maybe they might have phoned you?”

“No, dear. Trying to reach Henry has been a full-time chore today.”

“Well, I’ll try again. And I’ll make some other calls about the pies. I’m wondering if the homeless shelter could use several as well as the diner I told you about. Don’t worry, I’ll come up with a few more places and then start delivering them.”

Andrea started toward the office, then stopped. She had to get over Ice, and the best way to do that was to move on, to put in motion her find-a-stepdaddy plan. Starting here and now. She screwed up her courage and marched into the cold room. Wade was standing framed against the bright light, admiring his handiwork.

He glanced around at the sound of her boot heels on the concrete floor. “Hey, good morning.”

“Good morning yourself.” She gestured to the wall. “All done?”

“The tape needs to dry, but that’ll take a couple more days.” He began gathering his tools, a sexy guy in blue jeans and western shirt, a touch of white taping mud in his dark hair. “By the time this place is reopened, it’ll be just like the leak never happened.”

“Wonder if Charlie Mercer has figured out the cause of the freezer dying.”

“Wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “Where are the cameras today?”

She had no idea and didn’t care. It was nice not to have the extra chaos. “I think they’ve done enough damage for a while. I hope they don’t show up today. Nothing going on anyway.”

He held his taping mud tray, gazing down at her, the moment awkward, stilted. She wanted to ask him out, but she didn’t ask men out. They usually asked her. Wade was shy, old-fashioned. He might think she was overstepping.

As though he’d been reading her mind, he blurted out, “I’ve been thinking…would you like to go to dinner later this week?”

He seemed as surprised that he’d asked as she was to hear the question. She wanted to get to know him better, so it was nice to know he could step up if he had to. “I would.”

“Great. How about Friday at Moose’s? Or if you’d rather, we could go somewhere fancier.”

“For a first date, Moose’s would be perfect.” Familiar ground for them both, the prices were reasonable, and the atmosphere wasn’t too intimate or suggestive, in case the chemistry she felt with Wade turned out to be nothing more than a case of nerves.

She wished him a great day and went to the office to get started on her calls. She phoned several places who were more than happy to receive free pies, and a few who insisted on paying for them. Almost every person she spoke to commiserated with Big Sky Pie over
that awful Henry Dolinski
. So many folks seemed to share this opinion that she started to wonder if they could initiate a petition to get him placed somewhere in the Health Department that didn’t wield so much power.

She spent the afternoon delivering pies, silently willing the Gardeners to return her calls. She tried Rebel Scott, too, hoping for an update from that source, but she didn’t answer. Frustration tensed Andrea’s muscles, giving her the start of a headache. She hadn’t heard from Ice either. She hadn’t expected to, but she was surprised he hadn’t at least phoned Molly once he’d learned about his part in the pie shop being shut down by the Health Department. She’d resisted sending him a text. She had accepted a date with Wade. She was moving on. Doing what she had to do to overcome her bad-boy obsession. Seeking a better life for herself. For her sons. She also knew she didn’t dare take another step in Ice’s direction. She was
almost
in love with him, but falling over that precipice would be the end of her.

Her mom texted to say she’d taken the boys home and would wait there until Andrea arrived. She stopped at the store to pick up groceries and the latest animated DVD. Tonight, she planned to fix the one meal she couldn’t screw up—spaghetti, applesauce, and salad. Molly McCoy’s pie was for dessert with some ice cream. The boys were going to be thrilled. After the dishes were done, they would snuggle on the couch, watching the movie with, maybe, some buttered popcorn. If they weren’t all too full. She smiled to herself as she drove home. Things were looking up, looking toward a new and different future. One that was long overdue.

Juggling grocery bags, a pie box, and her purse, Andrea opened the apartment door. The unmistakable aroma of sautéing onions and peppers greeted her. Darn it, she should have texted her mother not to start dinner. “Mom, you didn’t have to—”

The words froze on her tongue. Ice stood at her stove, one of her aprons wrapped around his waist, stirring something in her best frying pan. And her sons and her mother were all helping him.

A
ndrea set her groceries on the kitchen counter with a thump. “What’s going on?”

Everyone turned at once, surprised to find her there. They all spoke at the same time.

“Sweetheart,” her mother said.

“Hi,” Ice said, looking glad to see her, as though finding him cooking dinner were the most natural thing in the world.

“Mommy,” Logan said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Mommy, Ize is letting us cook,” Lucas said, bubbling over with excitement. “He teached us about sauting unyums.”

Andrea raised questioning brows at her mother.

Delores started talking fast. “School let out after half a day. Some teachers’ meeting or other. Logan said he forgot to give you the notice. When they called, I picked up the boys and brought them here. After what went on in the pie shop yesterday, I didn’t want to bother you at work.”

“Logan found Ize in his bed,” Lucas said, always the informant.

She expected Logan would give her some grief over this, but he was gazing at Ice like she’d caught herself doing. What the hell? Logan was the mistrustful one, but Ice had apparently won him over. Not an easy task. Logan was acting like they were long-lost buddies. Had she walked into some Twilight Zone alternate reality?

Logan seemed more…confident? Was that possible in a few hours? He shifted his weight, acting cool. “Ice took us to the park. We played catch with my football. It was awesome. He taught me how to hold it with my ring and little fingers crossing the laces and my thumb underneath, like this.” He snatched the football off the table and demonstrated, then recited as though he’d memorized the rule. “My index finger should be over a seam. My thumb and index finger should make an L shape.”

The joy in her son’s voice zinged straight to her heart. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d seemed so happy. It drove home how much her sons needed the influence of a man to teach them things she and her mother just didn’t know about, like the proper way to hold a football. But Ice was a stranger. Her boys had only met him today. What was her mother thinking allowing him to take off with her children? “You shouldn’t have.”

“Ah, it was no trouble,” Ice said, totally misreading her statement. “I had as much fun as the boys. Maybe more.” God, he was beaming like Logan. Hadn’t anyone played football with him as a kid? His story and circumstances came rushing back, and she realized they probably hadn’t, and the knowledge made her sorrier for him, softening her resistance.

She gave herself a mental slap. “That’s not the point.”

He studied her, obviously trying to discern the root of her quiet anger, and then a mental light seemed to click on. He threw up his hands and shook his head. “No, no. Your mother chaperoned our whole afternoon.”

As if that made this okay. “I see.”

“We wanted to get to know Ice better.” Her mother gave her a pointed look, as though she had meant to find out more about the man that she felt her daughter might be falling for, the Donnie Lovette clone. She didn’t appear to disapprove of Ice. In fact, if he hadn’t been standing here, Andrea feared Mom might give her a thumbs-up.

Andrea groaned to herself. Here she was trying to oust this man from her life, and her whole family was embracing him, falling for that celebrity charm.

“The boys confided to me that you aren’t as good a cook as your mom.”

“I like your peanut butter sandwiches,” Logan said quickly.

“Yeah, me too,” Lucas chimed in.

“Me three.” Ice smiled that heart-stopping grin. “They were surprised to learn that I like to cook.”

He cooks? What? He wasn’t dreamy enough already before she knew he could cook? Why had fate delivered the perfect man into her life when she couldn’t have him? Had she been really bad in some other lifetime to deserve this punishment? She pulled open the fridge to put away her groceries and found it completely stocked. Milk, bread, butter, eggs, salad makings, fruit. “So you took Mom and the boys grocery shopping?”

“Yeah, I noticed you were low on a few things.”

Low was such an understatement that she almost choked. There was even bottled water and white wine stowed on the side shelves, and five beers left of a six-pack. She didn’t drink beer. Neither did her mother. Did he plan to stick around and finish the rest? She just stared at him, uncertain if she was angry or grateful, or both.

Ice fixed his incredible gaze on her. “I decided to teach the boys a few culinary tricks that they can teach you. You know, later.”

Yeah, later, when you’re gone.
A wayward stab of pain breeched her heart. Damn him. It was bad enough that she would miss him when he left, but now her sons would miss him, too. Maybe even her mom would miss him.
Angry. Definitely more angry than grateful.
This was why she didn’t bring men home.

Since she couldn’t insist he leave with dinner under way or vent to either Ice or her mother with the boys present, she decided if she couldn’t beat them, she’d join them. She poured herself a glass of wine, handed Ice a second beer, and stood by the stove to see what they were preparing. Some sort of pork chops.

Maybe it was the wine plucking at her wall of resistance, but she felt herself mellowing and enjoying the happy chatter and camaraderie that came with cooking a meal together. The kitchen space was tight. Several times, she brushed up against Ice as she gathered dishes and set the table. Twice their hands bumped, their eyes met, and an electric pull charged through her.

Lucas chattered nonstop about everything as if he sensed he would only have this male attention for a limited time, and he intended to get as much out of it as was humanly possible. She would have reined him in, but Ice was so gentle that she couldn’t do that to either of them. She knew instinctively that Ice needed this as much as Lucas did, even if Ice didn’t realize it. This whole new side of him threw her.

Gone was the bad boy, Mr. One Night Stand who’d strolled into Big Sky Pie hiding behind aviator glasses and a doesn’t-give-a-shit attitude. If she held up a mirror, he wouldn’t recognize his own reflection. There was more to this man than anyone knew, more than he’d ever shown the world, or himself. It wasn’t Ice standing in her kitchen; this was Ian. And she marveled at how much she cared for both of them.

Dinner was a pure delight. The boys were thrilled that they had helped make it. She would have to include them more whenever she cooked. Maybe she should take a cooking class. Nothing too fancy. Just enough to learn a few things. Maybe she and Mom could take the class together.

After dinner, her mother helped with the dishes, then announced that it had been a long day and she was going home. The boys insisted Ice stay for the movie. Andrea could hardly object. As Logan readied the DVD, she went back to the kitchen to make the popcorn.

Ice came in. “Can I help?”

“Nothing to do.” She placed a bag of buttered popcorn into the microwave and set the timer. She found the big bowl they used for movie night and set it on the counter, aware of Ice’s gaze on her every movement. She needed to cut the sexual tension between them. “Did you know that, after the fiasco in the kitchen yesterday, the Health Department shut down Big Sky Pie?”

“Yeah, Bobby texted me. I phoned Molly and Quint, and I’ll make up any loss of revenue to them as well as pay for all the cleaning. I know that won’t compensate for any loss of clientele due to this closure, though.” He looked so sorry, her anger waned.

“Well, I think we’ll be okay. I found out a lot of folks in town have fallen victim to Henry Dolinski’s bullying tactics. His boss could be about to receive a hundred or so complaint letters about him.”

Ice smiled, and her insides began to melt into hot lava. She wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her, wanted him to pull her close and kiss her. She pulled her gaze from his, retrieved the popped bag of corn from the microwave, and filled the large bowl.

“That smells delightful,” he said, bringing her gaze to his.

“That’s what you said the first time we met.”

“I was talking about the popcorn this time.”

“I know.” She put another bag into the microwave.

He braced his hip against the counter. “I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving.”

Her heart dropped to her toes, and she struggled to keep her face from reflecting her dismay. “Oh? The pilot’s done then. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow. But it’s the show that’s done. Molly and Quint decided to call off the pilot. They feel the reality show is too disruptive, not nearly as much fun as it looks on TV.”

Andrea had been involved with Molly’s attorney when the contract between Ice Berg Productions and her boss was drawn up. She knew a clause or two had been included to cover this possible outcome. But it wasn’t her only concern.

“What about the studio that commissioned the pilot? Won’t there be some sort of financial loss that someone would have to absorb?”

“They have insurance for that, but in this case, we had a private investor. Anonymous. He came forward as soon as I texted to tell him the pilot was a bust. It turns out it was BiBi’s father, Chopper Henderson. He wanted her to be the star of the show. Or at least have the most TV time. He’s also the one who sicced the press on me, figuring some media attention might help the pilot sell.”

“He would. He misses the limelight. BiBi misses living in Hollywood, but she’s a daddy’s girl, and Daddy lives in Kalispell.” This was, however, as far as Andrea knew, the single nicest thing BiBi’s father had done for her.

“Yeah, well, she and Bobby have been hooking up. If you get a chance, you might want to warn her that he’s in major rebound mode. Just coming off a nasty divorce.”

“BiBi’s got a mind of her own.” And a tattoo that said
Defiance
. “Whoever she hooks up with is not going to be influenced by me.” Andrea recalled seeing BiBi in Moose’s with Bobby. It looked like she wouldn’t be the only one brokenhearted when Ice Berg Productions left town.

“Just thought someone should know.”

“I guess you’ll be needing to get back to the hotel to pack up.”
Cut the strings that have tried to wrap you up all evening. Cut them quick. Ruthlessly.

He frowned. “The boys wanted me to stay and watch the movie.”

“You know, that’s not a good idea.” She pulled the second bag of popped corn from the microwave and emptied it into the big bowl. “I thank you for spending so much time with them today, but you won’t be seeing them again, and kids tend to get attached too quickly. It would be best if you—”

“Ize, are you coming or not? Logan is gonna start the movie.”

Ice glanced at Andrea. She sighed, and jammed the popcorn bowl into his arms.

During the movie, Andrea sat with Lucas curled against her side, but her gaze kept wandering to Ice. She’d caught him staring at her, a longing look in those dreamy eyes. Was he thinking that he might miss her as much as she was going to miss him? She tore her gaze from him, pushing down the yearning inside, forcing herself to stare at the TV.

Lucas sat up suddenly and interrupted her thoughts. He glanced at her, then at Ice, then said, “Get a room.”

Andrea startled. Had her six-year-old just said “get a room”? “What?”

Logan was giggling. Ice, too, looked amused.

“Well, that’s what they say on TV,” Lucas explained, “whenever some guy and lady are making moony eyes at each other like you and Ize are doing.”

Embarrassment flushed her skin.

Ice looked chagrined.

Lucas asked, “What does it mean?”

Andrea asked, “What does what mean, sweetie?”

“Get a room.”

Ice put his hand to his mouth, and Andrea knew he was hiding a grin.

Logan giggled harder as if he knew exactly what the expression meant. Lord, did he? At least sort of? Was it time she told the boys the facts of life? Weren’t they still too young? If Donnie had been here, she had no doubt he would do it. But she wasn’t Donnie, and she wanted her sons to remain as innocent as possible for as long as was realistic.

Another reminder that a man in her life, in their lives, was much needed.

“Mommy, what does it mean?” Lucas persisted.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?”

Logan jumped into the conversation. “My teacher says that, if you don’t know the answer to something, asking a question is the only way to learn.”

“Your teacher’s right, Logan,” Ice interjected. “But in this case, it just means that no one wants to see the guy and the lady being mushy. You know, like go into the other room.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, reaching for more popcorn and immediately reengaging in his movie.

Logan joined him on the sofa, yawning, his football tucked to his side like one of the stuffed animals he’d lugged around everywhere not so many years ago. Andrea mouthed a “thank-you” to Ice.

The movie ended shortly after that, and Andrea sent the boys to brush their teeth and get their jammies on. Alone, she carried the popcorn bowl to the kitchen.

Ice followed. “They’re wonderful children. You’ve done a terrific job raising them.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it would be nice not to have to do it all alone, as you saw tonight.”

He nodded. “They need a man in their lives who isn’t going anywhere. And for the first time in my life, I wish I could be that man. For them. And for you.”

I wish you could be, too.
“I think these feelings we share are confusing and pretty wonderful, but it’s not the lasting, forever-after kind of thing. We recognized a kindred spirit in each other. That is very seductive. We’ve both known someone who was supposed to love us, but who didn’t, and unless you’ve lived that, you don’t understand. But those betrayals came at a price, leaving us both wary of commitment.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond, but plunged ahead. “I have realized, if I continue making the same choices, I will always end up alone and lonely. So I’m going to make some positive changes in my life.”

He was frowning so hard she thought it must hurt. “Changes?”

“We can be friends, Ice, but I want more than that and you don’t. I’ve lined up some dates with guys who don’t think
marriage
is a dirty word.”