The Perfect Blend (6 page)

Her kitchen appliances were white and stainless steel, just like Matt’s apartment back in L.A. Carrie motioned for them to sit, then served the cream of potato soup, which looked and smelled incredible. It hadn’t dawned on Matt that Carrie would be a good cook, and he felt like a schmuck for not giving her more credit. Especially since she was famous around town for her pastries.

Lindy dipped her spoon in and took a dainty taste. Her brow lifted. “This is pretty good. I’m not usually big on cream soups, but I’m almost tempted to ask for the recipe.”

“I’m glad you like it. And I’d be happy to share the recipe, just let me know. Okay, first batch of fried zucchini’s done.” She scooped the golden brown slices out of the deep fryer, deposited them onto a paper-towel-lined plate, and sprinkled them with a little kosher salt.

Matt grabbed one as soon as he could pick it up without burning his fingers. After a quick dunking in the ranch dressing, he took a cautious bite. “Mmm!” He looked at the breading. “I don’t know your secret, but these are even better than Nino’s. And if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Carrie winked at him and his heart sped up. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Lindy reached for a piece of the zucchini and took a small bite. Her eyes widened and she nodded her approval, popping the rest into her mouth with a thumbs up. Carrie served the ham soufflé next, which was equally amazing, and Lindy ended up asking for recipes for everything. Carrie, not quite as surprised as Matt seemed to be, happily forked them over, even the one for the chocolate mocha trifle she served for dessert.

“Wow,” Lindy said as she scraped up the last spoonful of trifle. “I think I must’ve gained ten pounds. Hope you’ve got a health club in town so I can work this off tomorrow.”

“We don’t, but there’s a Y in Morgan, the next town over. It’s about a twenty-minute drive from here.”

Lindy pushed back from the table and stretched her arms over her head. “Sounds good, I’ll need something to keep me busy. Matt, I’m beat. Can I have your car keys so I can head back to your place? I’m sure Carrie would be happy to give you a lift home later...or tomorrow morning.” A knowing grin curved her lips.

“I’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Carrie replied without missing a beat. “If you want to stay for a little while.”

Okay, was she saying what he thought she was saying? She met his gaze, but for once, Matt couldn’t read her facial expressions. Hell, who was he kidding? Didn’t matter why she wanted him to stay, Matt wasn’t going anywhere until she kicked his ass out. He pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Lindy. “Think you can find your way back from here?”

“I’ll manage.” She caught the keys and stood. “Head back to Salvation, make a right, and then another right at the light. Second house on the left.”

Once Lindy drove off, Carrie got up and retrieved what looked like a small envelope from the top of her microwave and handed it to him. “This is for you.”

“A present? But I don’t have anything for you.”

She gave a teasing eye roll. “Just open it.”

Matt arched a brow, peeled the flap open, and shook the envelope over his hand. A key fell out. He looked at her, his heart thumping. What a huge statement she’d made with just that small gesture. Obviously, this was Carrie’s way of letting him know she accepted him as her partner.

“To the coffee shop,” she needlessly explained. Matt gave a curt nod, overcome with emotion. He wanted to race around the kitchen table and crush her in his arms, kiss her like she’d never been kissed before…Whoa, buddy, baby steps. He’d started to fear Carrie would never fully trust him—or any man—in this lifetime. If he put the moves on her and she wasn’t “there” yet, he’d ruin any chance they had of...of what? Hell, Matt was half in love with her, and for all he knew she thought of him like a big brother.

Then again, a woman didn’t put on makeup and wear sexy clothes for her big brother. Hell, if she didn’t send out so many mixed signals he’d know which way was up. And all the vibes she sent out were—

“Matt? You all right?”

Carrie gazed at him with a frown of concern. He chuckled, praying like hell she couldn’t read minds. Then again, if she could, she’d have slammed the door in his face two seconds after answering it. “Yeah, sorry. Just hoping Lindy made it back to the cottage safe.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, which confused him even more. “Well, give her a quick call. I need to run upstairs for something anyway.”

* * *

Carrie raced up the stairs and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She shouldn’t have presented the key like it was some sort of gift or something. He had as much right to have a key to
Coffee To Chai For
as she did. But the look on his face...almost as if a spider had dropped into his palm, the way he’d gawked at it.

Carrie pushed away from the door and checked herself in the mirror. What he must think, she thought, holding back tears. Normally she didn’t bother with makeup, and she rarely wore anything other than the black slacks and the cute T-shirts she sported for work. Tonight she’d taken a chance and prettied herself up. What a joke. Her makeup was so heavy it looked like a child had applied it; her boobs were one good bounce away from freedom, and her tight jeans would leave angry lines that lasted a week.

Okay, so he hadn’t flown across the table and kissed her breathless. Certainly not the end of the world. Carrie tore off a piece of toilet paper and dabbed at her eyes. Matt wasn’t interested in her that way. She’d read all the signs wrong. And if he were a gentleman, he’d never mention this night again.

After a few deep, calming breaths, she opened the door and headed back downstairs. Matt stood at her kitchen sink gazing out the window. The sun had already started its downward descent, but there was still plenty of light to see her backyard.

He glanced over his shoulder as she approached, and a welcoming smile transformed his handsome face. Carrie wanted to kiss him something fierce, but she didn’t dare. She’d never be able to live down the humiliation if he backed away when she leaned in.

She walked up beside him and looked out into her yard. “So whatcha looking at?”

“You have a hammock.”

He said it with near reverence, and she was hard-pressed not to laugh. “Yep. My parents started the tradition. This used to be their house. I bought it from them when they moved their practice to Green Bay.”

“Not once you get the hang of it. Come on.” She motioned him to follow her outside and led him toward the two stately oak trees her father estimated were over three hundred years old. The hammock, however, was new. Her father’s old Pawley had finally given out after over two decades of service, so Carrie replaced it with a soft as silk, multicolored Mayan without a spreader bar. Heaven.

The sweet scent of petunias filled the air, as did the four o’clocks her mother loved so much, and the night blooming jasmine—Carrie’s personal favorite. Her mother had started the night garden when Carrie was still in diapers, and although her time was limited these days, Carrie enjoyed it too much to give it up.

“Smells nice,” Matt commented as he fingered one of the many pink, purple, and white blooms that grew up the side of the arched trellis.

“Sorry, forgot. It’s pretty easy, believe it or not.” Carrie positioned herself with her back to the hammock, grabbed it with both hands and sat down, then slowly lay back as she spread the delicate strings out with her hands. “Okay, get in next to me, but not too fast. These types are hard to flip, but you still have to get in it with care. And make sure there’s nothing sharp in your back pockets.”

“Don’t you need to turn? You know, so your head and feet are facing the trees?” He propped his hands on his hips and frowned, eyeing the hammock with hesitancy.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath, as if he were about to dive off a cliff instead of simply lie back on a hammock. “Here goes nothing.” He slowly reclined back until he was lying right beside her, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

Carrie closed her eyes for a moment as she savored the feel of his warm body pressed against hers. She hadn’t been this close to a man in years, close enough to smell his spicy aftershave, feel the hard contours of his muscled arm. God, how she wanted to turn her head and take a whiff of him. She bit back a smile over the absurdity of her thoughts.

“Mind if we get a little more comfy?”

Carrie’s pulse picked up speed as Matt carefully maneuvered one arm beneath her and curled her into his side, his hand stroking possessively up and down her side. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and she wasn’t sure, but it felt like one was about to pop out.

“Better?” he asked, his breath warm against her scalp.

A shiver ran through her and her nipples hardened. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

“Hey, you all right? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just...I’ve been waiting all week for a chance to get my arms around you.”

She tried to lean back and gaze into his eyes, gauge the truth of his words, but it wasn’t easy in a hammock. “Really? I kinda thought...but then I wasn’t sure...” Great, she sounded like a complete and utter idiot.

He gave a soft chuckle and turned slightly toward her, his lips just inches from her own. The sun had finally disappeared into the western horizon, his handsome face now completely in shadow. “Funny, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He dropped his voice down to a near whisper. “I’m crazy about you, Carrie. All I can think about right now is kissing you.”

“Then why are you still talking?” she whispered back, emboldened by his confession. She tilted her face up, making it clear that she wanted the kiss as much as he did.

Matt didn’t waste a second. He captured her mouth with a soft groan, moving gently at first, coaxing a response with his incredibly soft lips. When Carrie parted hers, he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, running his hot tongue along her bottom lip before slipping it past her teeth in search of her own. She met the stroke of his tongue with a sigh of relief. He tasted like pure heaven—chocolate and wine.

Overwhelmed by how right it felt to be in his arms, Carrie slipped one arm up around his neck and opened her mouth a little wider, inviting him to deepen the kiss even more. Matt needed no further persuading. He wrapped his other arm around her and crushed her against his chest, his hands kneading her back, her waist, and finally wandering down to cup her backside, pressing her into his hardness.

A familiar ache flared to life just below her bellybutton. It’d been so long since she’d felt sexual attraction, she’d started to wonder if her sex drive had died along with her marriage. But oh no, her body was practically singing for Matt’s touch. She draped one leg over his hip and just like that the hammock flipped over.

Chapter Six

They landed on the soft grass in a tangle of limbs, their feet twisted in the fine, hand-woven netting. The initial shock wore off after a couple of heartbeats and then they both burst out laughing.

Matt managed to disentangle her feet first, then his own. Once they were both standing, he took her back into his arms. “Hard to flip, huh?”

Carrie laughed softly, her eyes closed as she inhaled his wonderful scent. “I said hard, not impossible. Be thankful I use fertilizer; the grass is as soft as a pillow-top mattress.

“And do you own a pillow-top mattress?” His breath whispered across her ear, turning her knees to Jell-O.

Carrie’s heart was so full she thought she might float away like a helium balloon. For the first time in so long she couldn’t remember, her guard was down and her mind open. She’d lumped most men into the same despicable category for years, but thanks to Matt she’d finally started to believe in the opposite sex again. That maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t wind up as some bitter old cat lady. “You may very well find out, but it won’t be tonight. I’m not that easy.”

He pulled back and cupped her cheeks, his thumbs stroking gently under her chin, his gorgeous face illuminated by the moonlight. “I’d have been disappointed had you invited me in to find out.”

Liar. She grinned. “Yeah, right. You’re just saying what you think I want to hear.”

He reached up and caressed her face, traced his thumb across her bottom lip. “I’m a hundred percent serious. As much as I want you—and Carrie, I’ve never wanted a woman more—the first time we make love is going to be perfect. And, no, I’m not just saying what I think you want to hear.”