Recipe For Seduction (A Madewood Brothers Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (15 page)

With his head lowered, he walked away. Poor kid had been defeated, twice.

Turning his attention to Veronica, Finn asked, “Are you about done with the hissy fit?”

“Hissy fit?” Her voice went up about ten octaves with only two words.

“No one messes with my menu. Not even you.”

“
Hissy fit?
”

He swore he saw steam coming from her ears. He had apparently touched a nerve. It was time to calm her down.

He motioned to one of his line cooks who had shown up with a few glasses of wine to pair with the food. “Ensure that my brother and Sterling taste the rest of the menu. For the next course, two of each canapé on the platter.” And then he turned and strolled away.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Finn O’Reilly!”

She did exactly as he’d expected. She followed him out of the dining room, past the kitchen, and into the small hallway at the back of the restaurant. On either side of the hall was a door—the entrance to the two restrooms—and at the very end was another door marked
private
, which was the door to the storage facility and Finn’s makeshift office.

He turned the knob and stepped inside.

All the while she nattered behind him. “I know you still don’t see me as an adult, but you need to get over it.”

Oh, she was an adult, all right. All grown woman. She had proven that in spades when he’d had her tied to the bed two nights ago.

She continued to rant as she followed him inside. “This is my profession, and I do it well. You have to trust I know what I’m doing.”

He honestly did. But that didn’t mean he would put up with a tantrum.

“This wedding day is in
my
hands,” she continued in exasperation, “and despite your brilliance in the kitchen, I need you to acknowledge I’m in charge.”

He laughed. “In charge?”

She narrowed her eyes, then nodded. “Yes.”

He reached forward and grabbed the door. She jumped when it slammed shut behind her.

“Well. I guess we both like being in charge.” He stepped closer to her, towering over her petite body. “The question is, who’s going to win this time?”

“Me,” she squeaked. He had to give her credit. She wasn’t backing down. But she was getting worried. Or…was it anticipation shining in her eyes?

He shook his head. “We both know who’s in charge here, little one.”

“Stop calling me that,” she growled. But her retort, the one usually spoken with indignation, came out a little breathy.

He couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped. “And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?”

Her face softened, but only a little. He knew she was too stubborn to let him win outright. Her chin lifted. “Maybe I won’t let you get in my pants again.”

He pushed a few strands of wet hair off her cheek and leaned in. “I think we proved more than once over the past weekend that you want nothing more than to get in my pants, little one.”

“Stop calling me little one!” With a huff, she turned and gave him her back. “And what happened on the weekend was a onetime thing.”

His stomach tightened. What had happened between the time she’d dropped him off this morning and now? She was pulling away again. Maybe he’d been the only one to think their time away together had been perfect.

Aligning his body with hers, he played with the ends of her hair. “You didn’t have a good time?”

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t recall ending our little game, do you?” He grasped her arms and turned her around to face him, but she didn’t give him any clues. Which meant he only had one game plan in his arsenal to coax out what he needed to hear.

“I love these suits you wear. So sophisticated. So uptight. But now I know exactly what you look like with those nerdy glasses off, and your hair all tangled, like it gets when I press you good and hard against a mattress.” Never had any other woman revved up his desire without provocation. “I know you have a beauty mark right…there.” He touched her chest, just above her breast. “And it’s fully visible when you don’t have your shirt buttoned up so primly.” He popped open one button, then another, exposing the soft swell of her breasts so he could see the slopes of them in the gap.

Her breath became labored and her body shivered. He grabbed the lapels of her blazer and pulled it over her shoulders and down but only as far as her elbows, preventing her upper body from moving.

“Finn—”

There was never such a beautiful sight as her, right now. Disheveled, angry, and fighting her instinct to give him control over her.

“Control…power…it’s earned, sweetheart.” He pressed his erection into her stomach. “And you’re going to show me just how much you want control. Starting with your lips on my—”

The door opened, shoving her forward into him.

“Seriously?” Cal stood on the opposite side, his face curled up in a sneer. “At
work
? It’s bad enough I had to walk in on you in my own house.”

She drew herself up. “What I do in my house, in my bedroom, is none of your business,” she told him curtly.

“And considering this is my restaurant, I can screw whoever I want in it, wherever I choose.”

She gave Finn a shocked glare.

“You let him talk about you like that?” Cal asked.

When she didn’t answer, he stormed off, forgetting to get whatever it was he’d come to fetch in the storage closet.

“Do you have to say those things to him?” She hit Finn in the chest.

“He’s an adult. Unfortunately, we have to deal with him knowing about us, and since he does, he should know the unvarnished truth.”

She stared up at him expectantly. “What exactly is the truth?”

“That we’re two consenting adults who can do what we damn well please.” Finn touched her cheek. “Our relationship, or temporary arrangement, or whatever you want to call it, is none of his business. It’s no one’s business.”

Not Cal’s. Not Mark’s. Not his brothers’. But unfortunately, the more time Finn spent with Veronica, the more he longed for this temporary arrangement to move into the “something more” category. Their weekend away had only solidified his feelings for the woman who was his perfect match in the bedroom. But he couldn’t have his cake and eat it, too. He knew that. Anything more with Veronica would only lead to heartache.
His
heartache.

When her lips parted but she didn’t respond, he said, “We’ll continue this discussion another time. We should get back to Jack and Sterling.” He had forgotten how they ended up in this closet in the first place. He tipped up her chin. “I’ll even let you stay for the rest of the tasting.” He winked. “What do you say?”

It wasn’t exactly in his best interest to invite her to stay. Not after they’d been interrupted by Cal, and definitely not when he was unable to follow through with the sweet-dirty activities his brain and his body craved. Damn. He’d wanted to do things in the closet that would melt the warning labels off the cleaning products.

“So generous of you.” The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable, even without the tongue she stuck out at him.

He could think of much better uses for her tongue.

Back at the table, Sterling and Jack were sharing bites of their food. Sterling did most of the talking. Jack was sitting back against the bench, clearly aware his opinion didn’t matter. Every decision was ultimately Sterling’s, and not because she wore the pants in that relationship, but because her adoring groom demanded she get the wedding of her dreams. And so did Finn. They both deserved it.

Every once in a while, between picking at the food on her plate, Veronica looked in Finn’s direction, and when their eyes met, she’d quickly look away. His first reaction was to ask if she didn’t like his cooking, but had a feeling her lack of appetite had nothing to do with tastiness.

“What do you think, Veronica?” Sterling asked.

Her eyes shot up. “Um. I think you have a lot of lovely choices here.”

Sterling turned in her seat. “Well, what’s your favorite?” she asked.

“I…” Her mouth parted, but again no words came out.

He already knew what she would pick. She had been a steak lover since she was a kid and it had continued through her adult life. But she was still super annoyed with him.

“She won’t answer you, Sterling,” he said wryly. “That would mean she’d have to give me a compliment by saying she actually likes one of them.” He leaned back against the booth and laid the napkin he’d been fiddling with on the table. “But she picks the steak.”

She shot him a death glare from across the table.

When he looked over at his brother and Sterling, they were giving each other the eye. They were obviously picking up on the fact that something was going on between Finn and Veronica. Something besides the lame fight about him going above her head as the wedding planner. He had no doubt Sterling had spilled the beans to Jack, which meant Penn had spilled the beans to Sterling about what she’d walked in on the other day.

Such drama for such a small family.

“Well, I’m loving the pasta,” Sterling said around a mouth full of fettuccini. “It’s my favorite, but I know people will be expecting meat.”

“What do
you
want, sweetheart?” Jack leaned across the table and grasped her hand.

Sterling’s entire life had been spent catering to other people, and Finn knew his brother would make sure everything about their wedding was what
she
wanted, not what she thought anyone else expected.

“I understand your thinking, Sterling,” Veronica said. “Many people only come to weddings for the food and drink. It’s natural to want to please your guests.”

Sterling nodded. “Exactly.”

“So then what do we do?” Finn asked. Like Jack, he refused to let Sterling pick something that wasn’t her favorite. “We need to pick one.”

“Not necessarily.” Veronica sifted through her briefcase and pulled out a pad of lined paper. She drew a square—the outside walls of the barn where the wedding was going to be held—then added a rectangle at the back wall, most likely the riser where the ceremony would be held. “The barn is big enough to accommodate one hundred and fifty people, plus a dance floor, and the ceremony space. You’ve only invited half that number. There is a lot of room to work with. I’m thinking we should do stations.”

“Stations?”

She quickly sketched the layout they had agreed upon, then added a few more areas. “We can have pasta set up at this table. A meat-carving table over here. Essentially, we could have every main course Finn has offered. The wedding dinner won’t be sit-down, which I know Jack will like.”

He winked at her. Jack had been quiet for most of the planning with the exception of saying he didn’t want to be sitting down for hours eating a big meal, when there was lots of partying to be had.

“Oh, I like that idea.” Sterling straightened in her seat, her eyes sparkling. “Can we do this, Finn?”

“Of course we can.” He should kick himself. Veronica had just proven why he should have invited her in the first place. “I wish I would have thought of it.”

The I-told-you-so look that blossomed over her face would forever haunt him. He had been so wrong to leave her out of the planning process. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“Then I think we’re all set,” she said. “Right?”

She packed up her things and stood, smoothing her blazer into place.

“Thank you so much, Veronica. You saved the day again.” Sterling rose and pulled her into a hug.

“I’ll see you on Sunday, and if you need anything in the meantime, just give me a call.” She smiled at Jack and Sterling, then turned to walk away.

She stopped after a step, and turned. “For the record, my favorite
was
the steak.”

The frizzy strands of her air-dried hair whipped around as she walked away, an extra spring in her step.

Had he just been put in his place? He couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, that was”—Jack clapped his hands on the tabletop—“interesting?”

Sterling leaned forward and whispered to Finn, “What’s going on between you two?”

He shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell anyone about their deal. Or even that they were getting together in addition to discussing wedding plans. Not because he was ashamed—quite the opposite. He just wasn’t ready to put his feelings into words.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure what his feelings were. All he knew was he wanted to spend as much time with Veronica as he could. As much time as she would let him.

“Come on, Finn. Penn told me all about what she walked in on the other day.”

Jack turned and smacked him on the shoulder. “Why don’t I know about this? What did she walk in on?”

So Sterling hadn’t spilled the beans to Jack. Finn made a pleased mental note that Sterling could definitely be trusted.

“Penn’s vivid imagination got the best of her again,” he insisted. “It was nothing.”

“Finn, you have to—”

“I’ve got all of your options in my head.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “I’ll put in the order for all of the food tomorrow.”

He stood up from the table and, with a wave, left his suspicious brother and Sterling to their speculations.

He walked into his kitchen where his staff was working diligently, prepping for the evening ahead. Cal, who had come a long way in the very short time he’d been working at Carmel, stood off to the side prepping garnish.

When he noticed Finn walk in, he shot him a warning glare. It was a back-off-pal stare that Finn planned on respecting. He’d given the kid enough to be traumatized about over the last couple of weeks.