Triple Diamonds (Mystic Nights Book 2) (13 page)

Hearing the doorbell chime, he quickly went inside and crossed to the front of the house to get the door. Opening it, the sight of Jewel once again knocked the breath out of him. She was gorgeous, and so damn curvy. Generous hips, a perfect set of tits, but it was her skin, hair, and eyes that appealed to him most. She had showered and braided her hair. It lay across one shoulder and came down the front like a thick black cord down her chest. It was just like how his mother wore her hair. Very traditional. Jewel looked like an Indian princess with her bronze silky skin. And the curtain of hair when loose, which he hoped he would be able to unbraid later, felt like satin to the touch he remembered. She was wearing black skinny jeans, and a sweater, a dusty rose, and it fell off one shoulder exposing her neck and shoulder to his view. Make up was minimal. She didn’t need it.

“You look amazing.” He welcomed her, opening the door further so she could pass inside.

She glanced around quickly taking in the large space before her. “Thank you,” she murmured, “and your home looks lovely. What a great space.” He watched as her eyes took in his home.

Shrugging, he closed the door and accepted her compliment. “I like it. It’s home. Though I’m not here often enough.” Joseph followed Jewel further into the room allowing her to wander toward the kitchen.

“Whatever you’re making smells great. Garlic,” she pronounced. “What is it?” she murmured appreciatively. “Italian?”

She guessed correctly though the garlic was a dead giveaway. “I hope you like it. I like to cook. I made spaghetti Diablo and garlic bread. A salad too.” He knew he wasn’t a chef, but he’d always enjoyed trying new things and then making those items again at home.

“I love Italian food,” she pronounced. “That sounds great.” She turned then giving him a brilliant smile. Having someone cook for her was a rare treat, and she realized Joseph, by inviting her here had gone to great lengths to impress her.

“Good. I’m glad. Please sit,” he directed her to a place at the table she saw in the corner of the kitchen. It was already set. She didn’t mind that they weren’t eating in the dining room. She would have felt out of place with so few people in the larger setting. The kitchen area was cozy being tucked into the corner. She slipped into the seat he pulled out for her. She nodded appreciatively when she saw the wine already sitting in the glasses. A good red wine needed to breathe.

She lifted her glass as he headed to the kitchen area. “Mmm,” she pronounced. “Cabernet. Perfect.”

She watched as he pulled the garlic bread out of the oven, and arranged several pieces on a plate. He took the salad out of the industrial sized refrigerator and placed it on the counter. He pulled out a bowl, filled it with pasta from the pot on the stove, and then dipping a scoop spoon into his sauce, he poured several large spoonsful onto the spaghetti. From another pot he ladled several scoops of muscles. Steamed. She was impressed. He had gone all out.

“Here. Let me help,” she stated getting up from her seat. But before she could grab the salad bowl and the garlic bread, he grabbed her from behind and twirled her around in his arms. His lips crashed onto hers with no warning. It was heated and demanding, and soon she was grasping his back, clinging to him as his tongue delved into her mouth. She was panting when it ended. When he ended it he didn’t pull back, but instead leaned his head against hers. He gave her a sly mischievous look that promised there was more to come later. “I forgot to say hello.” He breathed.

Letting out a long shaky breath, she replied trying to make it sound casual meanwhile hiding her trembling and unsteady hands behind her. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest. “Well hello, there.” Her response got a laugh from him, and then he pulled away enough for her to turn and grab the bowl of salad. This man was good at keeping her unsettled. She never knew what to expect from one moment to the next.

Joseph followed Jewel to the table with the main course enjoying the sight of her ass in those jeans. He was tempted to forget dinner all together. He kissed her when she had gotten near because he hadn’t done it when she came in. He wanted to correct that oversight, and she was so damn hard to resist. He didn’t know how he would make it through the whole meal without another taste. But he would try.

He set the serving dish down, and when she put the napkin delicately in her lap he knew he could wait. She was going to be worth it.

Joseph began to ladle the food onto her plate, and she stopped him when she had more than enough of the spicy pasta. With a whimsical smile crossing her face he sat across from her. He saw the smile and wondered what she was thinking.

Jewel knew she could get used to this. Someone taking care of her for a change. Something like what her parents had. But with a man like Joseph, she really didn’t know what to expect. But she was going to enjoy the ride, and like he’d said, she, no they, would just take it one day at a time.

Picking up her fork when Joseph did, Jewel dug in. She was anxious to try his cooking. The aroma from walking in had gotten to her. Her first bite of the spaghetti was divine. It was the perfect texture. “The sauce is perfect. Not too fiery, so you taste the peppers and garlic.”

He winked at her. “From you, I’ll take that as a real compliment.”

She smiled. “It was. I love to cook, but rarely do others cook for me. This is a real treat.”

“I’m glad. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to cook. Maybe I’ll do it again if I don’t poison you.” His teasing tone helped her to relax. Jewel found it hard to believe that a man so handsome wanted to spend time with her. Cook for her. She hoped her attraction to him wasn’t clouding her judgment. He wasn’t your typical Native American in appearance, but the features were there. The chiseled cheekbones, the square jaw. His skin was paler than his siblings, but she knew from the rumor mill that his father was white, although no one knew who he was. She herself was of mixed blood, though those traits were not dominant in her genetic makeup. Her great grandmother had been African American.

Whoever his father was he must have been quite handsome, she thought as she used the tiny fork to pluck a muscle out if its shell. It was tender. Perfect. The only stories heard on the reserve about Tawny’s offspring was that she had met someone while attending Yale. And he’d fathered her two oldest children. But it hadn’t worked out. Young love rarely did. Then years later when the boys had started school, her work had taken her to Washington. Once more she had come back to Lantern Hill pregnant, but this time with the twins. But she’d never married. She had dedicated her life to her children, and to her people. By all counts she had been a great mother as well as a community leader. And she had done remarkable things for the Eastern Pequot. Her own parents had greatly respected her. She was a remarkable woman that had first gained them federal recognition as a tribe. That battle had been waging for over a century. Then finally state recognition had been achieved six years later. That status, that recognition, had saved their people from further decimating their already dwindling tribe. It really had been their salvation. Without it, their people would have continued to scatter to the winds, left the area, to find their way in the world. But with the recognition, had come laws to protect and serve them. Cultural renewal opportunities, grants, federal funding, education, and of course, the Casino had followed. And the casino meant financial well-being. Since then, they had begun the process of rebuilding. Everyone knew Tawny Sassacus, or knew of her. She was a true inspiration and hero.

Her fight for state recognition had been arduous, and many times people doubted she would have achieved it. The state had fought it bitterly, not wanting another casino in the Constitution State. But finally she’d won over their support. It hadn’t been long afterwards that she’d brokered the deal with several Malaysian bankers to make
Mystic Nights
a reality.

So pleased with her work, twenty five years of it on their behalf, the newly created tribal council voted for her to run the place. And in four years, since the ribbon had been cut at the grand opening of
The Mystic Casino Resort & Spa
, she had made it a smashing success, with her children working right alongside of her.

The tribe was just beginning to reap the benefits of the Casino now. They had constructed twenty new homes last year, and twenty more were under construction. But still the housing crisis was not fixed completely as more Pequot began to come home. There were many families still waiting for housing. That would be a long process indeed. And it was one of the reasons she’d had to leave the reservation when her parents had been killed.

Throughout dinner, Joseph talked about himself and his family. She really appreciated him opening up to her. He’d surprised her when he told her that he and all of his siblings had same father. The brothers looked so different than the girls.

“They take more after my mother’s side of the family, I guess.” He shrugged it off simply.

“Did you ever get to meet to him? Your father?” she asked not meaning to pry, but curious about it. The question had just come. Knowing there were five years difference between him and his sisters, she wondered if Joseph’s father had been around during that time.

“My mother said we did, but I don’t really have any memories of him. His name was JJ. That’s really all we know. She doesn’t like to talk about him much. She did say he was the love of her life, but they were from two different worlds.” He paused and she knew he was uncomfortable talking about it. His brow was furrowed. But he shrugged it off and continued. “His name isn’t even on our birth certificates. We have our mother’s last name. They never married. When we asked her why, she just said it ended before it could come to that. And that when she met him again in Washington, they never expected it would be more than just two old flames reuniting briefly what they once shared. We don’t really like to bring it up much. She would always get so agitated. But she was a great mother. She was there. You know?” He ended his speech, and she was impressed that he’d shared that much with her.

“Yes, she is a remarkable woman,” Jewel agreed, and let the subject drop. She didn’t want to pry too much especially when she saw it had made him a tad uncomfortable.

Then the conversation turned to past relationships. She took a steadying breath. “No. Never close before,” she answered about being engaged or in love. “The longest I’ve dated someone was three years ago, and that only lasted four months.” It was true. She’d never found the one. The two guys she dated in culinary school had been just as focused as she on their career path. Antonio was now in Milan. And Herbert, yes Herbert, he was in New York now and cooked in a posh upscale Manhattan eatery in the theatre district. It had been more about having someone to go to school events, and having someone to hang out with on the weekends. Both relationships had ended amicably.

When she returned the question, she saw a look of evasion cross his face. But he plowed through and answered honestly. “Not for a long time. I had only one steady girlfriend that lasted any length of time, but she liked to party hard in college. I was only twenty when it ended. But back then, I thought it was going to last.” She knew he must have been referring to Tara. Linda and Dinah had filled her in on that little tidbit of gossip. “School became my focus after that. And politics. I’ve always wanted to try my hat at that.”

“Really? Why?” she asked with curiosity. She’d never known someone who wanted to pursue politics. And in her mind she pictured all those tattoos, true, with his suit on, he appeared stately if somewhat young for a member of government. But she knew what lie underneath and had a hard time imagining it.

He laughed at her perplexed expression. “It’s not my mother’s idea of the job for me. But,” he paused, “it’s really because of her that I’m interested in politics. She was always around politicians, fighting with them, lobbying, writing letters, and attending hearings and such. She dragged us around plenty on one of her many errands into Hartford, and Washington too. In her quest to get our people recognition, she brought us up in that world though she was on the other side of it. I always thought, what if there were more natives in government, more people who understand the plight we have endured. It just seemed such a good idea to me that if we had more representation the path would not have been so difficult.” Jewel watched as he spoke with such energy and conviction. She could tell this was what he wanted. She heard the passion in his voice. It’s how she felt when she thought of opening her own restaurant someday.

“You should do it then. I think you need to pursue that dream.”

Joseph smiled at the woman across from him. He loved that she could tell from just a few words how important this was to him. “I am. I’m going to run for tribal council. The vacant seat. Get my feet wet.”

“That’s a fabulous idea. You would be a great addition to the council.”

“I know I have Myrtle’s support. And I was thinking of calling Julian Silver.” He saw Jewel’s eyes widen at the mention of one of the senators for the state of Connecticut. He explained. “He’s a family friend. He helped mom get federal recognition for us decades ago. But he used to be local when he was a state representative. They go way back.”

“It’s nice to have powerful friends,” she mused in awe.

His smile was bright when he responded. “It’s come in handy from time to time.” And it had.

“I must say that I’m impressed. I’ve heard on the news that people are saying next year he may throw his hat in the ring for the presidency.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that. I haven’t seen him in nearly a year. But he would make a good president. I’d vote for him. But he’ll be here in two weeks. There is a convention coming up, some kind of fundraiser for the Democratic Party. Hey, you’ll probably be cooking for it.”

“Wow! That would be an honor.” To cook for a presidential hopeful! That would be great, she thought. “They’re having it at Mystic?” she asked. She felt selfish thinking about her credentials. But not many people could claim to have cooked for a presidential nominee.