Good Wood (20 page)

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Authors: L.G. Pace III

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BOOK: Good Wood
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“Okay, lay it on me, Danny-boy.”

“Well, you remember back when I brought my brother in to eat and he raved about your talent?”

“How could I forget?”

“He hasn’t stopped raving. He bought a restaurant down in Galveston and when I told him you sold out and moved back to Tejas, he totally flipped.”

I smiled “Tell him to come check out my food truck if he loves me that much.”

“Honey, you have no idea. He is willing to practically write you a blank check to get you to come cook for his new place. I told him that I would pass the word along.”

I huffed with a smile. “Dan, that’s an amazing offer. But Galveston is a little far away from my family. The whole idea of moving back was for me to reconnect with them.”

“I know, honey, I know. But I told him I would offer. He isn’t opening the place for a few months yet, so if anything changes just let me know. Okay?”

As I crossed Lady Bird Lake, we caught up a bit and I promised to call him back soon so we could really dish the dirt.

I pulled into the empty parking lot of the Sweetish Hill Bakery. The GPS said I’d reached my destination, but it was obviously wrong. I drove around back to turn around and I saw Joe’s truck parked underneath a carport a couple of buildings down. I parked and was about to get out of the car when my phone beeped.

Is it possible for a phone beep to be ominous?

Pulling up my email I saw the one I was waiting for at the top of the list.

Sweetie, just keep in mind that everything happens for a reason. Love, Dan.

Clicking on the link he had sent I skimmed through the story and studied the pictures over and over, acid rising in my throat. Smiling happily back at the camera wrapped in one another’s arms were my former sous chef, Elaine and my ex-husband. The article announced the wedding of the happy couple. The picture though…Dan hadn’t exaggerated that the picture told a story; a story that filled me with rage and despair. The
very
pregnant looking bride of my cheating bastard ex was positively glowing. The article laid out the details the picture didn’t tell.

Math can be a really uncaring bitch. The happy couple would be welcoming a new arrival that only could have been conceived before I discovered the panties and my shaky marriage went completely to hell. And I had sold that soulless bitch my restaurant for a killer price. I’d gushed about how happy I was that she could keep things going and how much I trusted her to carry on without me. Elaine had just stood there, smiling, and letting it happen. It was a very good thing we were several states apart. Otherwise I might have ended up in the newspaper as well for beating a pregnant woman and her sleazy other half to death.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, staring blankly out the window. There were a few angry tears but mostly I just felt numb. The last thing I wanted to do was deliver the damn pies. But I was already here, so I climbed out of my car. Yet again, I was going against my instincts which screamed ‘get back in and head home’.

Keep it together, Molly. Tell him Happy Thanksgiving, hand him the pies, and leave.

Seemed like a simple plan. I could do this.

I wandered around to the front of the bakery and hurried two buildings over to the one that I’d deduced was his. A heavy metal security door was in place, locked in front of what looked like a vacant storefront. There was heavy paper covering the windows. There was no sign, so I assumed it had been vacant for a while. To the right was a single door with two mailboxes. The address on one matched Mason’s text, and was labeled J. Jensen.

Faint music drifted down from the second floor. Heaving a reluctant sigh, I trudged up the stairs, taking care not to trip as I balanced both pies. When I reached the top of the landing, I saw two apartment doors. It was obvious that the music came from the door on the right. I adjusted the pies and was about to tap on the door. The slow, seductive beat of the music added to my growing discomfort. I heard no movement, and a horrifying thought occurred to me.

What if he’s with someone?

Once the insidious idea popped into my head, I couldn’t shake it. This day was bad enough without me having to deal with some hoochie mama. I would die of humiliation if a half-naked girl answered. I heard footsteps somewhere in the apartment and realized I needed to get the hell out of there. Looking around I saw no other option so I knelt to set the pies down on floor of the landing. That’s when the door swung open.

Shit.

Caught red-handed, I had no recourse but to look up at Joe. His expression of surprise would have been downright hilarious had he not been standing there shirtless. My stomach sank with dread, sure at any moment some female hand would wrap around him and drag him back inside. Then my brain registered that he was holding a paintbrush and that his faded jeans were randomly splotched with dark paint. I rose slowly, fighting to keep my eyes from dropping to the trail of soft hair that began just above the button of his jeans.

The plan, Molly. Stick to the plan.

Yeah. Whatever that was.

After what seemed like an incredibly long trip back to standing, I was face to face with him.

“Hi.” His eyes swept my face as if searching me for clues. He didn’t look angry, which was a decidedly good thing.

“Hi.” I dragged the word out apologetically. “Sorry to just show up here. I didn’t think you were home. My mother insisted I bring you pie.”

His gorgeous green eyes dropped to the two pie tins in my hands and swiftly returned to mine. The corners of his mouth curled in a smile just this side of naughty.

Sweet mother of God.

Within an instant of being in his presence, I was in serious danger of doing or saying something I’d regret. I recalled with perfect clarity just how good he felt inside me, and I craved that kind of raw comfort after the day I’d had. As always, Joe was almost too tempting to resist. It was time to go.

I held out the aluminum wrapped pies and was about to blurt ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ when he stepped back and said “Come on in.”

“Oh. Ummmm…O..okay.” Flustered, I stepped in after him. He sauntered to a ladder on the far side of the room and I couldn’t help but admire his broad, bare shoulders and the curve of his lower back as it branched out into that perfect denim-clad ass. He dropped his paintbrush into the tray on the ladder’s platform. He picked up a paint cloth and turned back in my direction as he wiped off his hands. The room was vacant except a TV stand that was draped with plastic. Before I’d interrupted him, he’d been touching up the dark trim. I realized he was watching me as I made my way into the kitchen. I took my time getting to the counter, dodging discarded paint cans and treading cautiously on the drop cloths. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up his hard work or knock paint over onto the wooden floors.

The kitchen was beautiful, very modern, and he’d chosen similar materials to those that he used for Mom’s. Finding a safe spot to set the pies, I turned and saw Joe had followed me. Whether intentional or not, he had positioned himself between me and the exit.

“I heard you were going out of town today. Did you ditch out?” I remarked. Between the newly remodeled truck and the do it yourself paint job, his incessant need to work made even me look like a slacker.

“No.” He paused long enough that I wondered if he’d say anything else about it. “We got an early start. I stayed overnight last night and took my oldest niece out for a sunrise ride. My sister has horses.”

“Oh.” Imagining Joe with his niece made me feel even lonelier. Perhaps it had something to do with the protruding baby bump in Draven’s wedding picture. Imagining Joe on horseback did little to dull the erotic ache he always brought out in me. I hadn’t realized just how badly I’d missed him until I looked into his emerald eyes.

“Are you coming back to work on Monday?” I fought hard not to sound eager.

“Yep.” He folded his incredible arms and leaned on the doorframe which I hoped for his sake wasn’t still wet. His gaze seemed to scrutinize me, and I was just too emotional to keep a stiff upper lip much longer.

I clasped my hand together and smiled uncomfortably. “Cool. Well, I guess I’ll see you then. Happy Thanksgiving.”

I walked past him, wedging myself between him and the kitchen island as I made for the door. The awkwardness of my visit had me shaking my head when I felt him grasp my elbow. I quivered as the inevitable sparks shot through me.

“Molly?” His voice had lost its edge and that somehow rooted me to the spot. I slowly pivoted toward him, and my eyes nervously went from his hand to his face. He released my arm, color rapidly rising in his cheeks. It seemed as if my apprehension wounded him somehow. He studied the floor, and then after some struggle, he forced his eyes to mine. His voice was a shy whisper. “Are you all right?”

I’m pretty fucking far from all right.

I wanted nothing more than to blurt it out loud and collapse in his arms like some Victorian heroine, but Joe had his own shit to deal with, and I fought to hold it all in long enough to get out of there with some small tatter of my dignity intact.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a
very
long day.” His eyes seemed to see into me. Cocking his head sideways, he gave me that small, sympathetic grin and I felt searing heat rush through me.

“Bullshit.” He said it softly, his hold on my eyes anything but. “I know fine, Molly. You aren’t fine. Sit down and tell me about it.”

As I looked up at him, I knew I was walking a tightrope and I
knew
with perfect clarity that I was about to fall. On one side I dissolved into a blubbering mess in front of this man, in another…

I pushed him back against the wall, knocking random painting supplies out of our way in the process. My lips hungrily sought out his, and I nearly died when I felt him hesitate. My self-esteem was already at an all-time low, and the vulnerability Joe’s disinterest had always brought out in me threatened to consume me. I almost pulled away, but at that exact moment, he responded to me, enthusiastically… almost aggressively.

Breaking free of my lips, he nibbled my neck and his talented mouth sent shivers of desire all the way to my toes. I raked my nails gently across his shoulders and was rewarded by a feral growl that rose deep from within his chest. His left hand slid up into the back of my hair gently gripped it at the nape. Pulling my head back, he began to tease me, nipping and sucking on the other side of my neck. I arched into him as he coaxed whimpers of pleasure from me.

Desperate for more of him, I absently clawed at his pants and somehow succeeded in unbuttoning them. Sliding my palm inside I was rewarded with a handful of hard excitement. As my fingers closed around him he broke off this kiss and gently pulled my hand away

“Molly…we shouldn’t.”

“Why?” I was breathing with a great deal of effort and I could see the battle behind his eyes. He was wresting with something, struggling to fight the attraction between us. I should have backed down, but I needed to be wanted, and the image of Drae with Elaine blazed in the forefront of my mind like a brand. I slipped my hands back into Joe’s fly and he groaned, his breath becoming raspy.

“Careful, little girl…” He moaned against my lips and I shut him up by closing my mouth on his. Careful was no longer in my vocabulary. He continued an attempt to resist my kisses and I bore relentlessly down on him. I desperately needed something good, to feel desired. Coming to Joe with this need was idiotic, knowing what I knew about him. It wasn’t right for him and wasn’t fair to me. But none of that mattered enough to stop me. I was going to have him.

Grabbing his face with both hands, I coaxed his mouth with mine. I wanted him to
want
to play with me. Within seconds, his moan rushed into my mouth, and I felt his resistance melt away. Strong hands grabbed my ass and lifted me to him. One hand reached behind me and artfully released my bra. Once my breasts were free, he carefully placed me on the kitchen island. His mouth slipped from mine as he focused his attentions lower.

My back arched as he made his way down my body. He removed the clothes from my lower half in one practiced motion. He looked up at me from under his dark lashes as he trailed kisses up my inner thigh.

“Oh, God.” I whispered and the coy look he gave me in response was too much. I closed my eyes, dropping my head back onto the island. He took the hint and stopped teasing me. I suddenly found it hard to breathe as my hands gripped his hair, pulling his face harder against me. His skillful tongue teased and flicked its way along the most sensitive part of me, quickly bringing me to a body-rocking orgasm.

As my brain regained some semblance of function, I slid down to the floor as he rose to his feet. I turned him around and pushed him back against the island, ripping his pants down and out of my way. I used every trick in my repertoire, and his responses told me everything I needed to know. He gripped my head, steadying me as he thrust repeatedly into my mouth. His labored breathing egged me on, coaxing me to perform.

“Molly,” he moaned, and bit his lip.

Suddenly, he yanked my mouth off of him and I groaned in protest. He pulled me to standing, and scrambling for a condom, he lifted me onto him. Thrusting himself inside me, the sheer force of his strokes drove the breath from my lungs as he powered into me. Joe nipped at my lips, his eyes holding me prisoner. I couldn’t look away from him if I’d wanted to and as the color rose in his cheeks, I
really
didn’t want to.

He swiftly took me to the ground and he threw his head back as his thrusts continued over and over in a steadily increasing frenzy. Seeing him on the verge set me off all over again. Digging my fingertips into his flesh, my world exploded into chaos and my eyes rolled back in my head. As my body clamped around him, he moaned with undeniable pleasure and after several more fierce thrusts I felt him still. He collapsed onto me, softly kissing my neck. My arms and legs were still wrapped around him and refused to release him from the grip as we sprawled in a mess of paint and brushes, intertwined together.

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