Scrumptious (14 page)

The men were still sleeping when she returned with her bowl full of blackberries. She tossed a half bag of fresh coals under Wilbur and shut the lid again. The pig was getting brown and almost starting to look like food. She had no idea what time the guests were going to arrive or how many people to expect, but judging from the supplies Joe had packed, they were expecting an army. Marlene could handle an army.

An hour later, the blackberry cobbler had filled the kitchen with a heavenly scent, and she was frying bacon for the barbecued beans.

Joe walked into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. He had straw in his hair. “What smells so good? Bacon?” He opened the door of the punched tin refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen and popped the top off a beer.

“Joe, it’s eleven o’clock.”

“When in Rome, sugar. Want one?”

She shook her head.

Joe shrugged. “My father always said that the day my mother died, he was gonna go around the world with a ten-dollar whore who could suck the chrome off a bumper hitch. I think he’s looking for you, sugar. You really knocked me out.”

Marlene fought down her anger and raised a cool eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying thank you?”

He met her challenging stare with a shrug. “Maybe.” He dropped his eyes first. “Sorry.”

“You should be.” Marlene turned her back on him to pull the bacon out of the pan and turn off the fire. She set the pan in the sink and stood still, gazing out the small, dusty window over the kitchen sink.

After a minute, Joe stepped behind her to rest his chin on top of her head. She didn’t soften.

“My father makes me crazy,” he said, arms stealing around her waist.

“I can see that. I get a little nuts around my own father. Don’t take it out on me though. I’m one of the good guys. I made blackberry cobbler.”

Joe kissed the side of her neck, and Marlene turned to face him. She pulled the piece of hay out of his hair. “I think I changed my mind about that beer.”

Joe handed her his can. Marlene took a long swig. It did help.

“Have you checked on Wilbur?” he asked.

Frank entered the kitchen just as the sound of crunching gravel alerted them to the arrival of their first guests. “Your girl knows her pig, son. ’Bout halfway done, I reckon. Go see for yourself,” Frank challenged. “You’re the professional.”

“So is Marly, but I’ll take a look.” Joe grabbed another beer and took off for the shimmering roaster, leaving her alone with his father.

Frank had a beer in his hand too.

Marlene ducked her head and peered into the dark oven. When she pulled the hotel pan out of the oven, the biscuits were the perfect shade of brown and the deep purple berry juice bubbled through the crust in thick bursts. It smelled like sweet, summer heaven.

Frank grinned. “Now that is a sight for sore eyes, girl. You sure are taking good care of us. Joe must have done something good to deserve a girl like you. Where’d you meet my boy, anyway?” he asked.

“Do you know Joe’s friend Olivia? In Norton?” Frank nodded. “I’ve been working for her family for about fifteen years. We’re having some trouble staffing the restaurant, and Joe’s helping us out for a while.”

“I wondered why he couldn’t get here any sooner,” Frank said.

“We’ve got our hands full.” Marlene kept the sympathy out of her voice. They both stood and watched Joe out the window. Marlene didn’t know what Frank was thinking as he watched his son, but she hoped her own thoughts didn’t show on her face.

Joe’s white T-shirt stretched over his wide back as he heaved the lid of the roaster open. His faded jeans rode low on his hips. Well-broken in work boots and a brown leather belt completed the workman look. Just watching him sweat over the roaster made Marlene want to have him sweating over her.

“You in love with him, little girl?” Frank asked abruptly.

“Nope.” She tried not to sound startled. “I don’t do love. Just not my thing.”

“Hmm. Well. I didn’t think I did either. Sometimes things change.” She caught a glimpse past the blustery good ole boy facade to the uncertain man beneath the bold words. Frank knew he had a problem. He just didn’t know what to do to fix it. Her dislike of him morphed into, if not exactly empathy, then something closer to understanding. “You don’t fool me, Frank.”

“I don’t have to. I just have to fool him,” he replied.

“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“So he’ll stay out of my hair.” Frank pretended indifference.

“You don’t really want that.”

“Yeah, well, he does.” He emptied his beer can into his mouth.

Joe clomped back into the kitchen. The look his father shot him was full of bitter longing, quickly covered. Frank tossed his empty in the trash can and grabbed another beer. “Looks like your Uncle Sal’s on his way up the drive with every brat in the family.”

“Should we shoot now or wait until they get closer?” Joe wondered.

“Let’s wait. Sal’s got the cards and poker chips.”

It was obvious Joe was kidding about shooting the children because the first kid to hit the porch got slung up onto his back. And the second. The third he wrapped around his waist. Joe jumped off the front steps and began swinging around the driveway grunting like a gorilla. Soon, he was covered in children, slinging them up and down, tickling the slow ones and trying to snatch the quick ones.

The shouts and squeals bounced between the outbuildings. It was chaos. The game ended with Joe flat on his back in the grass at the side of the house with the smallest of the kids sitting squarely on his face and the rest of them, six in all, draped all over his body.

“Has anyone seen Matthew?” Joe asked in a muffled voice. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“He’s sitting on you!” the children chorused.

“No, he’s not. I can’t see him. Has anyone seen Matthew?” Joe repeated.

The two-year-old began to bounce up and down on Joe’s head, screeching. Joe gently knocked him onto his side, catching his head before it hit the grass. “Oh, there you are. I was getting worried.” Joe blew a raspberry on Matthew’s stomach.

Marlene felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

The old man’s laugh was low and cheerful. “You don’t fool me either.”

***

Four hours later, the yard, the house, and the barn were full of people. Big people, little people, fat people, skinny people. Some well-dressed, some, like Frank, in tattered overalls and faded shirts.

They were all eating and drinking. The children, even more of them now, raced around like mad fools. A few of them had water pistols; the rest had cap guns. The kids were jubilant and completely out of control. Marlene was breathless.

Joe handed her another beer. “I told you it would be fun.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I forgot.”

Marlene’s head was fuzzy, but it was all right because the food was all out on the table, and everybody loved it. The pig took up an entire folding table and finally looked like food.

“What on earth is that?” she asked, pointing at the flour tortilla in Joe’s hand.

“Pork, sliced avocado, Sriracha, and a big handful of cilantro.”

“I didn’t see that on the table.” She frowned.

“Packed extra,” Joe said.

“That can’t possibly be as good as what I’m eating.” Marlene gestured to her straight-up pulled pork sandwich with coleslaw right on the bun, North Carolina–style. Sauce dripped over her palm.

Joe held out his burrito, and Marlene took a big bite. As she chewed, her eyes began to water, and she had to swallow before she was done chewing because her tongue was on fire. Heat torched her stomach like napalm.

“Is your mouth made of asbestos?” Marlene croaked, nose dripping.

“Just about,” Joe said. “You want another bite?” His eyes held a dare she could not resist.

“Hell yes.” Joe switched plates with her. He handed her extra napkins too. The noise buzzed pleasantly around them as they sat on the steps of the drunk house and watched the action.

When Marlene was finished, Joe took her plate and put his arm around her. That was even more pleasant, so she leaned against him.

The pack of children paused around them. “Uncle Joe and Marlene, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” That was as far as they got before Joe pulled her in for a kiss. With tongue. The children ran away screaming and screeching. But not before soaking them with their water pistols.

“The wet T-shirt contest is next,” Joe said.

“You wish,” she returned.

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you really their uncle? Where are your brothers and sisters?” Marlene was curious. Were there more like him?

Joe shook his head. “I’m an only child.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Takes one to know one?” Joe asked.

She nodded.

“I’m more like their second cousin or something like that. My Dad’s brothers had zillions of kids. Then they had kids.” Joe waved his hand around the yard.

“Got it.” Marlene nodded. “Think there are any kids in the hayloft?”

“Definitely,” he said.

“Too bad.” Marlene could go for a roll in the hay right about now.

“Later?” Joe offered. “Much later, probably. When the kids settle down, the poker will start. Hardcore. You up for that?”

Marlene frowned. Poker made her think of Keith.

“Stop thinking about the restaurant.”

“I can’t believe she blew us off like that,” she said.

“Would you want to hear that your loser husband stole money from you and then blew it at the casino?” Joe asked.

“I think forewarned is forearmed. Did she tell you she’s thinking about letting him come back to work?” Marlene said.

Joe didn’t look surprised. In fact, the look on his face fell into the I-told-you-so category.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “I tried to tell her the things going on at the restaurant are a little too strange to be coincidences. She didn’t want to hear that either.”

Joe shrugged. “She might be right. Keith let a lot of things slide around Chameleon. Olivia was spread too thin, and you’ve got your hands full too. You have to expect the shit to hit the fan sometime. We’ll get things back on track next week. Don’t worry about it, sugar.”

“What happened to Chef Sherlock? You going soft on me?”

“Sherlock’s on vacation. Relax, sugar, we’ve got our own poker game to play. I’ll even front you some cash if you’re nice to me.”

“You will? I can be nice. Real nice.” Marlene pulled his lips down to hers and forgot all about Chameleon. This trip was already turning out to be more fun than she had anticipated.

And a pickup game was pure gravy.

***

“I wouldn’t do that, sugar,” Joe advised her a couple hours later, just as it was starting to get dark.

They were sitting on the front porch. The locusts were singing and lightning bugs danced at the edge of the trees. “Uncle Mikey’s got a set of cowboys. I can tell by the way he’s scratching his armpit.”

“Uh-huh,” Marlene said. “Call.” She laid down a straight.

Joe looked over at her with respect. “Nice.”

“Your Uncle Mikey’s been looking down my shirt,” Marlene whispered, loudly. “He didn’t watch the turn or the river. I knew I had him.”

“Auntie Carol’s not gonna like that.”

“See, then I did him a favor.”

The game continued. Marlene knocked Joe out next.

“Nothing personal,” Marlene said sweetly. “It’s just a game.”

He sighed and tossed his cards to the center of the table. “You gonna be okay here if I go tell the kids some ghost stories?” Joe asked Marlene.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re playing for clothes or anything.” Marlene’s smile was full of innocence and sharp teeth.

“Is that even a possibility?” Uncle Sal looked hopeful.

“No,” Joe said firmly. He looked around the table. “I guess I asked the wrong question. Are you boys gonna be okay if I leave her here?” The men hooted.

Joe got Marlene a fresh beer and headed for the barn, yelling a round-up call as he went. Kids came from all corners, following Joe up into the hayloft. Marlene hoped none of them fell asleep up there. She had plans for later, and they didn’t involve more than two bodies, no matter how cute his devoted uncle routine was.

First things first though. She was going to take Uncle Sal’s money too.

Joe thought Marlene looked disappointed with the flop when he came to fetch her.

“Call,” his father said. They were the last two sitting at the table.

Marlene tossed her cards into the muck and stood up, pushing her chips across the table.

“Just like that, huh? You fold?” his dad asked.

Joe pulled Marlene to her feet. She reeled against him, probably from sitting for so long and spending the better part of the day guzzling beer.

“Frank, there’s only one thing more fun than playing poker, and I know a better deal when I see one,” she said, stealing a kiss.

Joe smiled against her ninety-proof lips. At some point she’d switched to bourbon. No wonder she was about to fall on her ass.

His father put a wad of cash into Joe’s hand. “This ought to cover the pig.”

“I’ve got it, Dad,” Joe said, pushing the money back at his father.

“Hell no.” His dad gathered the cards. “Put her to bed, son.”

Joe shoved the money in his pocket. Marlene sagged against him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He half-carried, half-steered Marlene up into the hayloft. “Playing with that crowd has its drawbacks.”

“Your family is great,” Marlene slurred softly.

“Can you wait up for me? I need to talk to my father.”

“I’ll be asleep before you hit the bottom of the stairs, sucker.”

“And you didn’t even win,” he chided her.

“Bullshit. I had four of a kind,” Marlene mumbled into her pillow. Joe pulled a blanket over her shoulders.

He found his father sitting in the kitchen with the top half of the Dutch door open to the night air, pouring himself another drink. Joe walked into the cabin and sat down at the table. “You haven’t had enough yet, Dad?”

“I knew you were going to start in with that.” He tipped another shot into the glass.

“You’ve been drunk since Mom died.”

“So what? I’m getting along.”

“Are you?” he challenged.

“Sure.” His dad took a slug of his drink. “Gotta tell you, son, I sure am sorry your mother didn’t get to meet Marlene.”

Joe snorted. “Mom was very clear about how she felt about the women I date. Her last words to me were, ‘No more sluts, Joe.’”

His father glared at him through narrowed eyes that showed no sign of the vast quantities of alcohol he had consumed that day. “Boy, you disappoint me.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said flatly.

His father ignored him. “If you can’t tell the difference between a woman like Marlene and a simple piece of ass, then you haven’t learned a damn thing from me, that’s for sure. That girl is smart as a whip. You think I don’t know she just beat my ass? She was just being polite. Not only that, she’s so easy on the eyes that everybody wants to look at her. Your Aunt Carol had to clout Mikey upside the head before he got his eyes under control. Pissed Carol off good too, but then I pointed out that Marlene can’t see any man but you. That shut Carol up quick. She’s the toughest of all your aunts. If she liked Marlene, then your mama would have loved her, for sure. That girl is a keeper.” His father took a drink, swallowed. “Sounds like she fucks like a mink too.”

Joe’s hand curled into a fist, and his dad’s dirty laugh turned into a wheeze.

“Go ahead, boy, take a shot at your old man. Might make us both feel better.”

For one raw second, Joe considered it. He would purely love to feel the crack of his knuckles against his father’s jaw.

It was his fault Joe was afraid to settle down and fall in love with a good woman. His wanderlust blood that ran in Joe’s veins, making him afraid to make promises he couldn’t keep. He hadn’t shown Joe how to be faithful.

He flexed his fingers and relaxed his arm. His father smiled, but it wasn’t a nice thing to see.

“Yeah, love’s a bitch, ain’t it?” he said.

“How would you know?” Joe retorted.

“I loved your mother like nothing else on earth. She was too good for me. Beautiful. Strong. And too smart to take shit from any man. A real wildcat
—
” Joe held up his hand. “Sound familiar? Women like that ain’t a dime a dozen, son. Pay attention. I know you don’t want to hear it from me, but your mama ain’t here anymore to set you straight.”

“She ain’t here anymore to set you straight either.” He took the bourbon out of his father’s hand.

“Huh.” The old man sank down in his chair.

Suddenly that’s what he looked like to Joe. An old man. Diminished, somehow. Not the towering giant of Joe’s youth. Not the father who would always be smarter, stronger, and wilder. He looked like an old man who had lost his heart and then tried to drown the leftovers with whiskey.

“Enough booze,” Joe said. “It won’t bring her back.”

The men sat quietly for a few minutes, taking each other’s measure. Joe saw his father reach for the drink that was always nearby. His mouth worked convulsively for a minute before he laid his hand flat on the table, pressed it down until it quit shaking.

“I promised Mom I’d pull you out of the bottle,” Joe stated. “She knew you wouldn’t know when to quit. So here I am. I need to know if you’re done trying to drink yourself to death.”

Silence settled between them again as his father considered the question.

“I reckon I am,” he finally said.

“Good.”

His father took a breath.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Joe said before he could speak.

“I figured as much.” His father exhaled. “Didn’t expect you to stay.”

There was so much that was better left unsaid between them. Joe didn’t want to open up another can of worms tonight. He didn’t want to hear about all the things he should be doing with his life, all the ways his dad could do it better. He’d spent his whole life listening to that.

Joe stood up and pushed his chair under the table. “Good night, Dad.”

“’Night, son. Remember what I said about Marlene.”

Joe shook his head. “I’m leaving for California next week.” He opened the bottom door, stepping through. “I’ll find another ‘piece of ass’ out there.”

Joe shut both doors behind him and took a deep breath of the damp night air. He had fulfilled his promise to his mother, but he still felt the sharp sting of her disappointment pierce his heart. His father’s take on Marlene had opened his eyes, and the clues washed through his head, making him feel exposed and stupid. The fact that his father had seen her so clearly, when he had not made him feel even more like a dumb ass.

Joe had assumed Marlene was easy because she had a lot of guys circling around her, and she came on strong. On the surface, she seemed to be like all of the women he had left behind. The kind of girl he could fuck and forget. He had been fooling himself. He had flat-out ignored all the signs that she was different, far different, from his usual fare.

Her kitchen should have tipped him off immediately. It was the kitchen of a professional cook and a homemaker: practical, comfortable, and top of the line. It was the kitchen of an equal, a room Joe envied. Hell, her kitchen had made him yearn for banana pancakes, for home and comfort. How could he have forgotten that the first time his mother had let him touch the stove, they had made pancakes?

Then, of course, there was Marly on the line at Chameleon, a force to be reckoned with. She single-handedly ran the bakeshop and had her finger in every other pie in the kitchen
—
ordering, training new cooks, filling in during service, acting as the prep cook, and even washing dishes when necessary. Joe had never worked with someone who challenged
him
to keep up with
her
.

There was also the fact that he hadn’t willingly left her side since Saturday night, and he was perfectly content. Truth be told, he had never spent every minute of the day with a woman and been at ease. Hell, he’d never spent every minute of the night with a woman and been at ease. Okay, he had never spent an entire night with a woman, period. That fact alone should have told him she was different.

He wanted to sleep with her, cook with her, and work by her side. He wanted to make love with her every night, every morning. He wanted to make breakfast in that excellent kitchen and then go into Chameleon and fix all the restaurant’s problems with her help. Then he wanted to go home, make dinner, and start the process all over again.

Marlene made him want to stay.

Joe took a half step back toward the log cabin and his father. It was ironic that he had fallen in love for the first time in his life, and the only person who knew it couldn’t possibly give him any advice worth taking. He took another step. He might not want his father’s advice, but he sure as hell wanted that bottle of bourbon that was sitting in the kitchen. When he reached the door, he heard his father move inside the kitchen.

It was better to stay sober. They had a long drive back tomorrow, and he had a feeling Marlene was going to be in rough shape in the morning. He was glad she wasn’t waiting up for him because it spared him the temptation of blurting out his feelings to her. She would probably jump out of the hayloft. He knew exactly how she felt about their relationship, the same way he had felt until five minutes ago. He stepped off the porch and headed for the outhouse, instead of the bourbon.

His glorified vision of finding a nice girl and settling down in California seemed crazy now, but there was no place for him in Norton. Sure, he could find a job. Hell, Olivia would probably hire him if she could afford it. He could easily find a place to live too. That wasn’t the problem. Marlene was the problem. He might want to stay, but that didn’t guarantee she would be willing to keep him.

That wasn’t the only problem either. It was all well and good to think about inflicting himself on a nameless, faceless California girl, but he actually cared about Marlene. Just because he had decided to try to settle down and honor his promise didn’t mean it was going to go well. Rafferty men were cursed. They hurt the women they…loved. If he really cared about her, he should get away from her before he did something stupid. He had to get the hell out of Norton as fast as possible.

God, he was such an asshole.

Joe pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, wondering if anyone would be in the kitchen in California. Test-cooking was only a formality. He knew they were waiting for his call. Maybe he could even move his interview up a week. He punched send and waited for the call to go through. Marlene might be a “keeper” as his father had said, but she knew the score. He hadn’t made her any promises. She didn’t know he cared for her, and he wasn’t going to tell her. He would enjoy the rest of his time with her in a way they both understood: naked, wordless, and uncomplicated.

Just as the phone began to ring, his cell phone dropped the call. He had been surprised to have coverage in the middle of all these trees anyway. No worries. He would stay in Norton for one more week, like he’d promised. His presence at Chameleon was only a Band-Aid, but he could never leave Olivia hanging, especially with a wedding on the books. He’d keep his word, and as an added bonus, he would figure out who was causing all the trouble at the restaurant before he left.

As his final act of service, he would also give Olivia a much-needed wake-up call. Joe knew exactly who should replace Keith, and it wasn’t him or anybody on one of the résumés in the office.

***

Marlene flattened herself against the side of the log cabin and watched Joe head down the path to the outhouse. She’d just come from there. The slight ache in her head became a flurry of hammer strikes.

She hadn’t planned to eavesdrop, but Joe’s quiet voice had carried across the driveway. She’d heard her name mentioned, so she had drifted closer, close enough to catch the tail end of a conversation that left her in no doubt as to how Joe felt about their affair.

She was a piece of ass.

And to think she’d been acting like a girlfriend.

Hot shame made her feel dizzy. She shouldn’t have gotten carried away by the warm family picnic mood today. Joe couldn’t help being cute with the kids. He hadn’t asked her to make blackberry cobbler, and he hadn’t known she was making a play for his father’s approval. She had thrown herself into the role of girlfriend with gusto, completely ignoring the fact that it was all an illusion. Joe was temporary. Their relationship was only about sex.

She slipped up the hayloft stairs and settled herself into her sleeping bag with her back to the stairs. Hot, angry tears slid from her eyes and soaked the pillow under her cheek. A few minutes later, Joe climbed the stairs and slid into the bag next to her. He nudged her hip. She didn’t stir.

Not a chance, buddy.

It might be all her own stupid fault that she had allowed her emotions to get involved, but she was mad at Joe. Tomorrow she’d get her head back on straight. She would remember that she didn’t want to be a girlfriend, ever. Tomorrow, she and Joe could pick up where they left off this afternoon in the hayloft. He thought she was a piece of ass? By God, she’d be the best piece of ass he ever had. She’d be unforgettable. She would ruin him for other women. He would leave Norton, but he would think of her every time he got hard, and when he climaxed, she hoped he’d choke on her name.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she was going to pass out and try to forget that she’d broken all of her own rules. The smartest thing to do would be to move on to the next guy immediately, but she knew she wasn’t going to do that. Joe was leaving soon enough, and this was too good to give up. She would deal with the emotional backlash, if there was one, after he was gone. Until he left, she was going to spend every minute she could with him and have as much sex as possible.

Tomorrow.

Marlene forced her eyes to stay shut, her body still, her breath quiet. She ignored Joe’s warm hand on her hip and the silent tears sliding down her cheeks. Instead, she welcomed the swirl of alcohol in her blood that carried her into black oblivion.