The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley) (20 page)

As he left, he deposited the tray outside Jill’s office and knocked. She looked up when he strolled in.

“Oh, it’s the man of my dreams,” she said, popping another truffle in her mouth and moaning. “The one who sent up chocolate with my lunch. Feel free to send chocolate anytime.”

“I didn’t have a chance to thank you in person yesterday for your help with the dancing gig, but I appreciate it. It will
never
be repeated, though, so you can stop the email invites to dance class.”

She snorted and wiped her mouth. “Ah, and you were getting so good. I could see you as one of the celebrities on
Dancing with the Stars.
Imagine…my protégé, up on that stage.”

“No way in he…heck,” he responded. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”

She pushed out of her chair like she was trying to be some crazy mountain lion on the prowl. “Aren’t you going to tell me about your date? After all, I did make it come together.”

“No way,” he told her.

Circling him, she ran a finger around his chest, and he shoved it down.

“You’re looking a little tired today,” she nearly sang.

“Enough. Or you won’t get any more food from the kitchen.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t cut me off.”

“Try me.”

“Fine. I’ll let you go, but are you sure you don’t want to come to Elizabeth’s class with me tonight to watch her moves? I think you have talent—really, you could be one of Rye’s backup dancers.”

He strode out the door with a wave. Jill would never stop talking if he didn’t leave. And he didn’t need to go to Elizabeth’s class when he could see her moves in private.

Something he definitely planned to do more of now that she was back in his life.

Chapter 21

Natalie was having a really bad day. Blake had texted her, then called and left her a message. She hadn’t listened to it.

He did this every few months, so she wasn’t exactly surprised. It was their anniversary today. Every time he called he said he wanted to talk about what had happened between them.

And every time, it threw her for a loop.

Why wouldn’t he just let her go?

As far as she was concerned, if it weren’t for her ongoing association with the Raiders, she’d never see him again.

As it was, she was girding her loins—literally and figuratively—to be around him at the upcoming dinner. And, dammit, his rock-hard body and handsome face never became less hotalicious. Heck, he practically glowed like the crazy superstar he was. What she would give to be one of those lucky divorcees whose exes got fat and went bald.

She couldn’t even watch the Raiders anymore because her body still responded to him, even in those ridiculous gold tights she used to tease him about. And she’d been a Raiders fan all her life. It was almost sacrilegious to give it up.

He’d ruined one of her favorite pastimes. Raiders football. She now had to make herself scarce on Sundays around her family since they still rooted for the team. Just not for Blake. On that topic, they were silent, respecting—if not understanding—her wishes.

Her business line rang. “Natalie Hale.”

“Hi, it’s Terrance Waters.”

Well, this was a nice surprise and totally unexpected. “Chef T. How are the Latin moves coming along?”

“Please call me Terrance, and I can assure you the Latin moves have been retired.”

“Not completely though, huh?” she asked with some mischief in her voice.

Everyone knew he’d won his date with Elizabeth, and she wondered how it had gone. She’d always had a lot of guy friends, so she settled back in her office chair, prepared to give him shit.

“Wouldn’t you love to know? Listen, I was wondering if you could have lunch with me this week. I want to talk to you about something. Pick your favorite place. I haven’t enjoyed much of Denver’s culinary scene.”

Wow. She sat up straighter in her chair. “Hang on. You’re driving to Denver to have lunch with
me?”
It almost came out as a squeak. Something had to be up. He was a celebrity chef, after all.

“Yep.” His smugness was kinda charming.

“Care to tell me what you want to talk about?” Oh, how her mind was racing.

He laughed. “You know, I would have given you a hint, but after your gleeful attendance at my Latin dance debut, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll only say you’re gonna love what I have in mind.” His voice was so seductive, a nun might have broken her vows.

“You totally suck.”

“That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. You speak your mind, something I appreciate.”

“Fine, since I’m terrible at waiting, how about tomorrow?” she asked, looking at her calendar. She could jiggle around a few meetings with other clients. “I won’t last more than a day now that you’ve put it like
that.”

And she was so calling her sisters the minute they got off the phone. They wouldn’t believe it, and they could help her brainstorm about what he wanted.

“You don’t want me to be your next Latin dance teacher do you? I know you call Jill Dr. Evil.”

“Sh—don’t you dare tell her. She’ll find a way to punish me. You Hale women are pretty fearsome.”

She twirled a pen around because that’s what she felt like doing. “Something to remember. Are you sure you won’t tell me?”

“Nope. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me the time and address. I’ll meet you there.”

That was probably better. If he met her at the office, her staff would act like a herd of heifers sighting their first bull. It would be ugly. She almost laughed at the crazy stuff that popped into her head.

“Okay. See you then.”

“Later, Natalie.”

When the line went dead, she stared at her phone and jumped up and down in her seat like a kid. Then she called Caroline and Moira, but only got their voicemails. Bummer.

Well, they would call back.

Her voicemail box stared at her with the number one in the corner reminding her of Blake’s message. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she played it. She always did.

Hey! How’s everything? Hope you’re doing great. Can’t wait to see you at the dinner. I still miss your cooking. Don’t hit me. I can’t help it. Call me back for once so we can talk. I have to bribe the Raiders’ events director to give me news about you. I miss you, Nat. Please call me.

Then there was a silence over the line, so profound, she had to squeeze her eyes shut, imagining him standing in their old house—the one she still missed—trying to decide how much more awkwardness he could take and how much more he should say. Blake Cunningham at his most vulnerable destroyed her every time.

Okay, I know you won’t call me back. You never do, Nat, but dammit, don’t ignore me at the dinner, okay? I hated it when you did it last year, and it…fucking hurt. We used to be married. We used to be…well you know what we used to be. And we need to talk…

He paused again, and this time her throat thickened. Why wouldn’t he stop this?

Okay, I’ll let you go. Happy anniversary, babe.

The phone fell limply from her hand to her desk, and she hung her head as old memories washed over her. There had been sparks from the moment they had met, which she hadn’t acknowledged—at first. They’d started out as friends because she had refused to go out with him. Instead of resenting the way she didn’t allow him to be a playboy, he’d liked it, respected it. Not that he didn’t try to sweet talk her into doing the horizontal mambo jambo, but he’d never made a move when they were just hanging out. And he’d stopped dating other women, something she hadn’t failed to notice. The strength of their friendship had finally made her give into the passion between them. He’d shown his faithfulness, that he wasn’t some ego-centric, promiscuous quarterback like so many in the league.

Blake Cunningham had a heart, and for a while, it had been hers.

She pushed out of her chair. Well, he wasn’t hers anymore, and she wasn’t his, and it pissed her off when he called her like that.

But it didn’t stop her from putting her hand to that same heart that missed him too, thinking about how he’d wished her Happy Anniversary.

Like it still mattered.

Like it was still true.

Chapter 22

Elizabeth was pretty much humming up a storm the next morning. Being with Terrance again made her nervous in some ways, but her body was purring like a satisfied feline. My God that man knew how to make love.

Last night they’d reached a whole new level of intimacy, and she didn’t regret any of it.

Sure, she’d felt a little awkward waking up with him, but the way he’d kissed her and kept right on kissing her had squashed that “morning after” bug.

Someone knocked on her door, and she set aside her third cup of coffee to answer it. She had a good idea who it was.

Her BFF for life stood there, all cocky attitude. “I didn’t want to come
too
early.”

“Smart move,” she replied and let her inside. Noticing the bag in her hand, she said, “You brought lunch. Good. I’m starving.”

“I had to help a girlfriend out. After a night of passionate lovemaking with Matt, I’m ravenous the next day.”

Then Jane leaned in close to her face, and Elizabeth playfully pushed her back. “I don’t have anything left for you if you’re looking for cuddles.”

“Haha. I was checking your eyes. Definitely bloodshot. And your lips…swollen. Now about that beard burn…”

“Having fun?” Elizabeth asked smugly. “I did. Say whatever you want.”

“I don’t see any hickeys.”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Terrance doesn’t lunge and bite.”

“Good to know. That sounds like something a misbehaving dog would do, and I would think he’s more skilled than that.”

“The man does have skills,” she responded, snatching the take-out bag from Jane’s hand and walking toward the kitchen. “That was never in question.”

Jane followed her in, and as she took out the plates and silverware, her friend poured them two glasses of the sweet tea Elizabeth kept for Rhett—but secretly drank herself too.

“You don’t seem upset or flustered this morning,” Jane said, a question in her voice.

“I’m not. It was…intense. I won’t lie. Over dinner, I shut down on the whole Vixen thing, and Terrance got all stony silent and took me home. I thought it was over before it had even begun, and then I realized I had to trust him with everything if I wanted to be with him again. God, I’m such a girl.” And the tough girl part of her, who wanted no man to have a hold on her, kicked her under the ribs.
I know. Being human sometimes blows.

They set up the kitchen table for their meal, and Jane fished out croissants stuffed with Brian’s signature chicken tarragon salad and served one to each of them, along with a cluster of grapes.

“Tell me everything. Okay, not
everything.
Keep it interesting, but not explicit.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Right.”

Jane munched on her sandwich and grapes while Elizabeth talked, not touching her food. Her friend was so enraptured, she had to stop her from eating a stem.

“Wow,” Jane said when she finished. “And I thought Matt and I were intense.”

“Please, you two are way too small-town to ever be that intense. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

Jane shrugged. “I know.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“That would be Rhett,” Jane told Elizabeth. “He texted me to ask if I thought you were okay.”

“Seriously? He’s never checked on me after a date.”

“Not every man is Terrance.” Jane fished out a third croissant sandwich, this one stuffed with paper-thin slices of French ham topped with brie.

“You got him a sandwich too?” Elizabeth asked as she left the room.

“I knew he was coming, and Rhett’s always hungry,” Jane yelled back.

When she opened the door, Rhett looked like a victim who was at the dentist’s office for a cavity filling.

“What is this? A post-coital chat?” she asked.

He grimaced. “Please don’t use that phrase. Whoever came up with the word ‘coital’ should be horse whipped. Now, I don’t want any details. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“Rhett, her skin’s as dewy as if she’d spent seven days at a mud spa,” Jane said from the doorway to the kitchen. “Come on in. I brought you a sandwich from Brasserie Dare.”

His whole face brightened. “You did? Janey, my darlin’, I swear, you are the sweetest girl on the face of the earth.”

“What about me?” Elizabeth asked, protruding her lower lip in a pretend pout.

He chucked her under the chin as he headed to the kitchen. “Did you bring me a sandwich?”

“No,” she said and followed him.

“Then I rest my case,” Rhett said. He took a bite of the sandwich Jane offered to him without even sitting down.

“We have chairs in this house,” Elizabeth said. “We even have plates and—”

“Elizabeth was just telling me how she let Terrance take her all the way home before rushing back in her car to have sex with him.”

Plopping into a chair, Rhett scrunched up his face. “Jeez, Janey, I said I didn’t want those kinds of details. He’s one of my friends, and Elizabeth is like my sister.”

“You’re such a baby,” Jane said, biting into her own sandwich.

Rhett took another bite, humming with pleasure now. “Okay, just tell me whether you told him about why you became Vixen.”

She thought back to how their whole future had been poised to either crash and burn or blossom based on that one decision. “I did.”

“Good,” he muttered as he sipped Elizabeth’s sweet tea.

Resigning herself, she got up and poured herself another glass.

“You can trust him, honey,” Rhett told her between more bites of sandwich.

“He doesn’t want any secrets between us,” she admitted, and the thought still made her stomach wobble.

“That’s the best way to establish a strong relationship,” Rhett replied. “So you told him about Vince?”

“I told him most of it, but not who Vince is.”

Rhett shoved his chair back so he could stretch out his long legs. “I agree. You didn’t tell me until recently because you were afraid I’d beat the guy to pieces, and you were right to be worried about that. If I hadn’t mellowed…”