Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1) (22 page)

His regret about punching him starts to dissipate as Carter eggs
him on. “I mean it. I’m not in the mood.”

“Fine.” Carter puts his hands up in surrender. “What’s wrong
with you? Why are you such a grouch?”

Nick frowns as he rubs his forehead, a bad feeling brewing in
his gut with the uncertainty remaining from Max’s latest investigation.
“Jessica’s called me twice, but didn’t leave messages. I’m having Max look into
it, but he hasn’t found much yet.”

“What did he say?”

“She was living with some poor bastard in Beverly Hills. I guess
it fell apart, because her convertible’s been parked outside her sister’s house
for the last two weeks.”

“I guess she’s her sister’s problem then.”

If only he could be so indifferent about it. Nothing with
Jessica is ever that easy. She makes sure it isn’t. He shakes his head. “I just
can’t figure out what she wants after all this time.”

“Hell, I know.” Carter rubs his thumb and fingers together
before jerking his hand up and down over his crotch.

Money and sex, pretty much the basis of his relationship with
Jessica. Of all women, until now. God, he’s so lucky to have found Shae. “No, on
both counts.”

Rolling with laughter, Carter raises his eyebrow. “What? You
don’t want a nice piece of ass on the side?”

He’s done listening to this stupid fucker. Nick points to the
door. “Get the fuck out of my office.”

Still smiling, Carter stands up and grabs his sandwich and
drink. “Never hurts to have options.”

* * * *

Nick rubs his aching neck, relieved to finally be home. “Shae?”

“I’m in here.”

He follows her sweet voice into the living room. Wrapped in the
yellow bedspread from her house, she sits snuggled in one of the oversized side
chairs. Piles of stapled papers line the floor and coffee table. An enormous
smile lights up her beautiful face as she holds out her hand to him. If only
she was naked like yesterday, he’d be completely happy.

“I love it that you call for me when you come into the house. It
makes me feel very special that you’re looking for me.”

He scoops her up and sits down with her on his lap, tucking the
blanket around them. “You’re the best reason I’ve ever had to come home.”
Pinkness dots her cheeks as she tips her head down. Her modesty challenges his
restraint not to take her upstairs and show her what her presence means to him.
Letting out a deep breath, he gestures to the stacks. “What are you working
on?”

“Gail sent some scripts over. I was reading through them to see
if any are worthwhile.”

“Any luck?”

“Yes, there’s a good one about a couple who spends their
honeymoon trekking around the world. It’s only supposed to last for a year, but
they keep traveling against their families’ wishes. It’s a romantic comedy,
with a happy ending, of course.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” He winks and rubs his finger
along the fraying edge of her comforter. “Why do you have this?”

“I guess it’s kind of silly, but I was missing my mom, and it
reminds me of her. Carrie and I stopped by my house, and I brought it back with
me.”

His stomach clenches at her fading smile, the uncertainty
clouding her dark blue eyes. Gliding his finger under her chin, he lifts her
face and meets her gaze. “Are you unhappy here? With me?”

Her eyes widen before she wraps her arms around his neck, the
blanket sliding down to the floor, her heart pounding against his chest. “No!
You’re all I want. Just you. Please believe me.”

“I do, sweetness.” He strokes her hair as she clings to him.
With all she’s been through, he hates she has more anxiety, doubt still
lingering in her about him, about them.

After a few minutes, she lifts up and give him a small smile.
“How was your day?”

“Busy. And weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Spencer quit.”

She shakes her head, frowning in confusion. “What?”

“He called me this morning and said he had some personal
problems come up. He might come back, but today was his last day for a while.”

She shivers and rubs her hands up and down her arms. “Maybe it’s
for the best. Now, he can concentrate on school.”

“I guess so.” He leans forward and picks up the comforter,
wrapping it around her again. “What else did you do today?”

“Carrie and I went shopping, and I bought some new bedding. I
hope
it’s
okay.”

“You can do whatever you want during the day, as long as you let
me do this at night.”

A small moan vibrates under his lips as he nuzzles her neck. Her
hands slide under his jacket and curl around his back, pulling him tighter,
making his groin twitch with her sweet body rubbing against him.

“It’s a deal.”

“Is not, how you say, get a room.” Marta’s voice interrupts the
sealing of their agreement. “Come eat hot dinner.”

* * * *

Shae’s stomach
rumbles from the comforting scents of vanilla and honey permeating the kitchen,
as she flips through sketches from her upcoming clothing line launch and eats a
late breakfast. Yogurt with walnuts and fresh blueberries can’t compete with
the sweet temptations Marta creates.

Flour trails across her yellow apron as
Marta wipes her hands before rolling out a lump of tan dough and cutting it
into strips. She squints behind her wire-rimmed glasses, concentrating on
completely covering the thin layers with damp dishcloths.

With her willpower lacking, Shae can’t
resist. “What are you making?”

“Baklava. Is Max favorite. He eat too
much.” She waves her hand, dismissing any argument. “I make anyway.”

Shae smiles into her bowl. Marta refuses
to admit the soft spot she has for Max. Always nagging him about his eating
habits, yet cooking what she knows he likes. “Can I help?”

The older woman nods and beckons her over
to the island, where the cookbook lays open with baking supplies spread across
the counter. “Yes, I teach you. Then you know is best.” Her trim, square
fingernail drags across the recipe before stopping and tapping at the second
step. “You mix nuts and cinnamon.”

Aware of Marta’s high standards, she
measures the pecans to an exact level before pouring them into a glass bowl and
sprinkling them with the spice. Unlike her mother, who loved the adventure of
cooking without a recipe, using a pinch of this and a shake of that, Marta’s
cooking always turns out well. At least she and her mom laughed a lot, even if
they lost more than a few meals from her experimenting. She gives the mixture a
gentle stir, careful not to spill any over the sides.

Nodding her head in approval, Marta
points to the sauce pan. “Now melt butter.” The housekeeper stretches forward
to inspect the sizzling hiss of cold meeting hot. “Is good.”

The pats dissolve in streaks across the
bottom as Shae tilts her wrist from side to side. “I’ve never had Baklava
before. I’m excited to try it.”

Marta holds up her finger. “People think
is Greek. No, is Turkish. Now you know.”

“Do you know Nick’s favorite dessert
too?”

“His mom always make Tiramisu for him. He
love it as little boy.”

Her hand tightens around the pot handle.
“You knew his mom?”

“She go to my church. We meet and quick
be friends. I help her…” Marta shakes her head. “When she sick.”

Nick never said anything about his mom
having an illness. “What do you mean?”

Marta frowns and shakes her head again
before crossing herself, mumbling words Shae can’t make out. “Please, Marta. I
don’t understand.”

“Salvador not good man.”

Cold chills run through her body. Not
sick. Injured at the hands of her husband.

“When she disappear, I come for Nick. Too
little to take care of himself.”

No wonder Nick has such a strong bond
with Marta. She mothered him when his own mom couldn’t. Fearful of dropping the
pan from her shaking hands, Shae sits it on a cold burner and slumps down onto
one of the stools lining the bar. “Did Salvador hit Nick too?”

Marta presses the dough into the cake
pan, metal scraping against the countertop as she shaves off the overlapping
edges. “Sometimes. Her most of times. Salvador, he no good. No good to her or
Nick.” She jerks the dish back in front of her and resumes her vigorous
cutting, shaking her head. “When I here, Salvador work, gone lots of times.
Nick need me so not alone.”

The admission hurts Marta too. She loves
Nick like her own son. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to
understand what happened.”

“Is okay. You good girl. You take care
Nick too.”

She squeezes Marta’s shoulder. “Yes, I
will. I promise.”

“He good boy. Like mother in here.” She
taps her chest, nodding in confidence. “Not father.”

“I know. Like you too.”

Shrugging out of the embrace, Marta
returns to her baking. Shae lets her arm fall away, respecting the woman’s
stoicism. After years of living only with men, it must be difficult for her to
share her emotions, especially ones triggered by such painful memories. Marta
hands her a pastry brush and points to the raw dough. “I put in pan. You
spread.”

The ache in her chest eases a bit. Nick
had Marta. Without her, he may have vanished just like his mother. Lost to the
abuse of his father with no one to protect him or mourn his loss. No one able
to stand up to his father’s unlimited power. Her presence saved him.

The soft peal of bells echoes throughout
the first floor. Her hand stops mid-stroke. “Is that the doorbell?”

Marta wrinkles her nose. “I not know.
Never heard before.”

She shakes her head. They live in a
surreal world, hiding behind thick curtains of security, never having to wonder
who’s at the door. No running around in a frenzy trying to clean up a messy
house for unexpected visitors. “I guess I’ll see who it is.”

She jogs into the foyer and peeks around
the burnished wood. Nick’s sexy smile lights up his face as he holds a huge
bouquet behind his back. His enthusiasm envelops her, and she can’t stop
herself from returning the sentiment. “What are you doing?”

“A gentleman always picks up a lady at
her front door.” He bows before handing the flowers to her. “These are for
you.”

The light, sweet scent engulfs her as she
breathes deeply. “They’re beautiful.”

“The florist helped me pick them out. The
light pink roses signify sweetness, and the dark pink are passion.” He wraps
his arm around her waist and pulls her against him, making her shiver at their
bodies pressed together. “Purple means love at first sight.”

A lump forms in her throat at the
eagerness on his face. Desperate to keep his promise from the night Juan
kidnapped her, he wants to please her with a romantic date just like regular
people. She swallows hard, forcing the emotions away. This is their day. Forget
Spencer and Nick’s father and her mom. She refuses to let any of them ruin what
he’s working so hard to create for her. “I love them. Thank you.”

“I love you.” His lips brush against her
cheek before he releases her and taps on his watch. “Are you ready to go?”

Her stomach twirls as she shakes her
head. “No, I didn’t know we were leaving so early.”

“Just like a woman not to be ready.” He
laughs and jumps back before she can smack his arm. “Well, hurry up. We have a
plane to catch.”

Her heart flip flops. He’s going all out
to make everything perfect, to ensure her happiness. Just like always. “Where
are we going?”

He winks before shaking his head. “Uh-uh,
it’s a surprise.”

“Then how do I know what to wear?”

“If it was up to me, it’d be nothing.
Since I know you won’t agree to that, anything is fine. It’s casual.”

His lack of detail is both adorable and
exasperating. Men don’t know how lucky they are to throw on a shirt and jeans
and be ready. “You’re so mysterious.”

He shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

“Fine. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

She pauses on the first step. It’s already
wonderful, and they haven’t even left yet. She’ll keep her promise too, taking
care of him and making him feel special. His face scrunches in confusion as she
runs back to him and kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what? You don’t even know if you’ll like
it.”

“For everything. Being with you is all I
need to be happy.”

“You’d better go.” He swallows hard
although it doesn’t diminish the huskiness of his voice. “Or I’m going to
follow you up there, and we’ll never get out of here.”

With a goofy smile curling on her lips,
she jogs upstairs. “I’ll be back.”

* * * *

When the jet begins its descent, Shae
turns from the window and looks at him. “Now are you going to tell me where we
are?”