Читать книгу Winning Her Heart - Harmony Evans - Страница 11

Оглавление

Chapter 2

Micah chuckled as he pulled up to his parents’ beachfront estate. With Jasmine’s sexy New Orleans drawl still in his ear, his body hummed with desire. Even though she’d hung up on him, the call energized him.

Coming home always brought back the guilt that he’d left in the first place.

His parents were never happy with his decision to stay away from Bay Point after culinary school. Because of their deep roots in the community, they’d wanted him to start a business there, but he’d refused and his relationship with them had suffered.

It was important to him to make his own way, with or without their blessing. That feeling hadn’t changed, although sometimes he wished things could have been different between them.

The briny ocean breeze hit him as soon as he stepped out of his air-conditioned car. He got his suitcase from the back seat, relieved to see that there were no other vehicles in the area adjacent to the circular driveway.

His brothers, Gregory and Marlon, always parked their cars in the attached six-car garage on the other side of the Spanish-style home. His parents loved to entertain on a regular basis, but it looked like tonight would be a family-only affair.

Micah felt a pain in his gut knowing that after ten years as a successful chef and restaurant owner, his parents still didn’t respect his choice of a career.

This time, I won’t let them get to me.

The scent of sand and seaweed further boosted his positive mood as he wheeled his suitcase up the red brick path to the front door. He punched in the security code, went in and stowed his bag next to the curved staircase, just outside the expansive foyer.

He slipped off his shoes and peeked in the library, which his father also used as an office. It was empty, so he strode into the large living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in late afternoon light and he could see everyone had gathered outside.

Micah closed the patio door behind him and was soon enveloped in his mother’s embrace.

“It’s good to have you home, son.”

“For a small woman, you pack some powerful hugs,” Micah joked, giving her a tight squeeze back.

Helen Langston, only five feet tall, was a giant of philanthropy in Bay Point, raising thousands of dollars for causes she cared about. In her early sixties, her demeanor with her children was often cool and distant, but in public and at parties she always turned on the charm. Impeccably dressed, even when just relaxing at home, her short coppery-brown hair was always cut in the latest style.

“I’ve been saving them up for a while,” she said, after releasing her grip.

Gregory, the middle Langston, was lounging on a chaise. He uncrossed his ankles but did not get up.

“You can thank me for getting him back in town. I’m the one trying to get him to open up a restaurant here.”

Micah strolled over. “Lying down on the job again, Mayor? At least give me a proper greeting.”

He picked up Gregory’s legs and swung them out of the way so he could sit down, ignoring his brother’s protests.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, if I shake your hand, it’s a done deal.”

Micah got the hint and stood, a wry smile on his face, knowing his brother was dead serious. “My partners and I bought the building, but as you already know, we haven’t decided whose restaurant will be utilizing the space.”

Marlon, the eldest brother, strode over and draped an arm around his shoulders. He gave him a gruff, but hearty squeeze that almost caused Micah to trip over his own feet.

“If Gregory’s big tax breaks won’t work, can I tempt you with one of my not-so-famous mango margaritas?”

“Made with farm-fresh, organic ingredients?”

“Don’t ask, just drink,” Marlon teased.

Micah reached around and punched his brother’s right shoulder, a funny kind of “man hug” that was a tradition with them.

“Hangover coming right up.”

Marlon walked to the wrought iron patio table and grabbed a pitcher.

Micah chuckled when he poured a healthy serving of the frosty beverage into a margarita glass.

“Leave the man alone,” his father admonished. “Be glad he had the decency to grace us with his presence this time.”

Theodore (Theo) Langston swirled his half-filled glass of scotch and water from his seat under the edge of the table’s huge umbrella, setting himself apart from the family as usual. It occurred to Micah that he was somewhat like him, but in the next moment, he told himself that wasn’t true.

His father, a well-known personal injury attorney had the kind of class and style that could never be duplicated even though he was sometimes accused of being an ambulance chaser, mostly by jealous peers who couldn’t get, nor handle, his caseload. He dealt in slips and falls, auto accidents, medical malpractice and other injuries, for clients in Bay Point and surrounding cities in Northern California.

“Bad day at work, Dad?” Micah asked, dragging over a chair next to him. The harsh sound of iron on stone made everyone wince.

“Nah, the usual.” Theo raised his glass before draining the contents. “Since your brother became the mayor two years ago, my business has tripled, but I’m not complaining.”

He rubbed his stomach and turned to his mother. “When is dinner? I’m starving.”

She consulted her bracelet wristwatch, a family heirloom. Even though Micah wasn’t in to jewelry, the bone china face with tiny hands, surrounded in diamonds, always awed him. The elegance of the piece suited her perfectly.

“You know your father won’t eat a minute earlier than six p.m.”

Micah sighed. His family drove him crazy, but for the most part, they were normal. Still, he wasn’t so sure he liked being back home.

He stared at the ornate balcony that wrapped around the entire second floor. Growing up, the view from his room had beckoned him. First as a child watching the clouds move and the sun peek out, like his toes from under the bed sheets. Then as an adult, the view of the sun meant heat and surfing and pretty girls, and if he was lucky, a lot of sex.

There was Delores, his first, at age fourteen. Three years older with a driver’s license and a pierced tongue. Body shaped like one of his surfboards, small breasts, thin lips, she knew how to ride him. Whenever they made out, she had to tap him on the mouth to remind him to breathe again.

He wanted to breathe, soft and hot, with Jasmine, her accent curling his ear, her beautiful body cuddled against him. And then what?

I take off, he thought, just like the others.

Micah finished his margarita, his mind a whirl of thoughts as he fought again his desire for a woman he’d met only hours before.

He wouldn’t end up like Gregory who’d taken the plunge and married nearly two years ago. Vanessa was a florist and sole owner of Blooms in Paradise, a flower shop close to City Hall. They’d been childhood playmates that made mud pies and swung swings together. Now they were making babies.

“Where are Vanessa and little Lily?”

“Our sweet pumpkin has a bit of the sniffles so Vanessa decided to stay home and play it safe,” Gregory said.

Helen, who was delighted at having a grandchild, and a girl at that, frowned.

“She’s barely six months old. A cold could be dangerous. Was she seen by a doctor?”

“Yes, the very best,” Gregory replied. “Her grandfather.”

Helen closed her eyes briefly. “Of course she’d be seen by Vanessa’s father. He’s still chief of emergency, isn’t he?”

Gregory nodded. “Yes, and refuses to retire.”

“Likely because he would find himself with a new job, as your full-time babysitter,” Marlon drawled.

“Vanessa enjoys being at home,” Gregory shot back in a peeved tone. “Jewel is always happy to help out on our date nights.”

“She’s a nice woman,” Helen replied. “I’m glad you get along with your mother-in-law.”

Gregory gave her a kiss on the cheek, teasing. “I’m glad she gets along with you.”

She turned away. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m easy to talk to.”

“In a crowd, perhaps, but not at home,” Marlon said, knowing everyone agreed with him. “You can be moody, Mom.”

“Why do you think Dad has to have two drinks before dinner?” Micah piped in.

“No,” his father insisted, drawing out the word. “It’s because I like them.”

“Wrong, Theo.” Helen placed a hand on his arm. “You like your little scotch and waters because you like to be right, and sometimes, when your sons or I am around, you have to admit you’re wrong.”

Micah popped on his phone. “It’s six o’clock. Time to go inside and chow down. I want to stop by the restaurant space and check it out before it gets too dark.”

The family left the patio and went through the living room to the formal dining room where Ginny Binslow, the Langstons’ longtime personal chef, was about to serve dinner. Micah didn’t know exactly how old she was, but she was like a second mother to him.

“I cooked your favorites,” she said, brown eyes in a round face gleaming. “Roast pork, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans and apple pie.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll.” Micah greeted her warmly with a peck on each cheek. “And if you want to hightail it out of this place, you know who to call.”

Ginny was the one who introduced him to a love of cooking by letting him help her prepare the meals at a very young age. He made his first Thanksgiving turkey by age seven, and won his first baking contest at age ten. She’d inspired and encouraged him to become a chef, much to the dismay of Helen, who only set foot in the kitchen to get to the second wing of the estate.

“Stop trying to steal Ginny,” Helen commanded, as they gathered around the large oak table.

Theo and Helen each sat at a head of the table, Gregory and Marlon on the side closest to the windows, and Micah opposite them. He felt like his two brothers were about to play good cop, bad cop, but at least he had a great view of the Pacific.

“Yeah, I’m hoping he’ll steal the hearts of Bay Pointers with his fabulous food,” Gregory said, accepting a platter of pork from Theo.

“If you need an architect, I know just the person. Liza Marbet. She designed the new cosmetic surgery clinic that opened six months ago. Her husband, Anthony owns it.”

“They had a huge gala there to celebrate the grand opening,” Gregory said. “Mom was in her element.”

“Dr. Marbet is a brilliant plastic surgeon. Although I don’t need their services, I did stop in to take a look,” Helen said. “It’s spa-like modern with clean lines and just enough oomph to make the space seem very personal.”

“Sounds nice, but I’ve got to get clearance on some building permits before I think about design.”

“I can take care of that, bro.” Gregory said. “Whatever you need.”

Micah dug in to his mashed potatoes and thought a moment before saying his next words. He didn’t want to offend his brother, but he had to make a few things clear.

“Gregory, I just want to make sure that nobody in town finds out about this project.”

His brother chewed, swallowed and stared at him. The other members of his family did the same.

“What’s the big secret?” Theo barked, waving a fork in the air. “Any new restaurant is great for business downtown. Yours is sure to be an instant hit.”

“More restaurants equal more competition, and some businesses can’t handle that,” Micah replied, surprised at his father’s positive comment. Maybe he was slowly coming around to the fact that his son was happy being a chef.

“I think he’s worried about generating buzz before any real decisions have been made,” Marlon guessed. “At this point, all you’ve done is buy the building.”

“Not me, personally,” Micah corrected. “It was purchased by a shell company managed by my business partners in order to make it difficult to trace back to me, to protect my privacy. But you’re right, I really need to keep a lid on this, and I’ll need everyone’s help.”

“We won’t tell a single living soul,” Helen said, patting his hand as her eyes met those of her husband and sons. “The Langston’s always stick together.”

Marlon made a big show of twisting his fingers to his mouth and fake-throwing away the key. He yowled when Gregory nudged him in the ribs. Even though he was the oldest, sometimes he was the least serious.

“The nondisclosure agreement the city signed helps, too,” Gregory affirmed. “But of course the family won’t breathe a word.”

Micah thanked them, and they continued with the meal.

The sun had nearly set over the Pacific, rendering the sky in painted stripes of orange and pink over twilight blue.

He had second helpings while Gregory and Theo argued over political issues, both local and national. Helen and Marlon talked about the books they were reading. He stayed quiet, and found his thoughts turning to Jasmine.

After dinner, he begged off coffee and left to go back downtown to check out the interior space, which he’d only seen in photos. To avoid any possibility of being seen by Jasmine, he would park in the alley behind the building and enter through the back door.

On his way there, he thought about his family. How he wished he could tell them the real reason why they had to keep his secret.

That a woman he barely knew had made his heart race, and his body heat, and he was already worried.

About her. About him. About their future.

* * *

Jasmine splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would perk her up. She’d been on the clock for over fourteen hours. Her feet hurt, her clothes were sweaty and her mood was dark.

When she told her closest friends she was leaving New Orleans to work in her grandmother’s restaurant, she’d laughed when they told her she was making a mistake.

She wasn’t laughing now.

They were building successful careers in business, law and medicine, while she was building blisters between her toes.

She grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. It was nights like these, of which there were many, that she questioned her decision, and others, like hanging up on Micah. Disappointment spiraled through her whenever she thought about not hearing from him again.

If he wants me, he’ll call again, she assured herself.

Exiting the restroom, she stopped by the kitchen to make sure Lucy wasn’t there. After closing out the dinner register, she’d asked her to go upstairs and relax, but her grandmother was always hesitant. She was woe to admit she wasn’t as spry as she used to be.

Jasmine understood how hard it must be to let go of something she’d been doing for so many years. Her grandmother never said anything outright, but Jasmine could tell by the worry in her eyes that she was concerned about the future of the bar and grille.

Donnie and Gloria called out their goodbyes. When they left, she shut off the lights, removed her apron and sank down into a chair.

With a yawn she didn’t bother to cover, she trailed her hand listlessly across the café curtains, parting them, and looked outside. Night had fallen. The parking spaces were empty, giving her a clear view of the empty building across Magnolia Avenue.

She’d seen no work being done, at least on the outside, but there was brown paper on the windows so the inside of the space was hidden from view. Lucy said that the entire building used to be a grocery store, so the space was huge, and they often speculated what type of business might move in.

“It better not be another restaurant,” she muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place.

Although if it was, she was the best person to meet the challenge to her grandmother’s business. Her work at the agency on marketing strategies to identify and circumvent competition was one of the high points of her life and she was pretty good at it. Maybe she’d end up doing more for her grandmother than pouring beers and learning to cook.

Maybe she’d actually help Lucy save her business.

Jasmine decided to take a walk and clear her head before going to bed. After locking the front door, she glanced across the street and her breath caught in her throat.

A light swiveled inside the building, a muted glow like a flashlight under a sheet, intermittently and at different parts of the otherwise dark space. Before she knew what was happening, her feet began to move and she crossed Magnolia Avenue. Cupping her hands against the window glass, she peered in, not really expecting to see anything, and didn’t.

“What’s up, Jazzy?”

Jasmine spun on her sneakers, nostrils flaring, and was surprised to see Micah. She’d been so focused on trying to see the source of the light that she didn’t even see him approach.

“W-what are you doing here?”

She couldn’t stand it when folks called her “Jazzy” or worse, “Jaz,” and thought it was a form of subtle disrespect. But out of Micah’s mouth, it sounded sensual, like the flower for which she was named.

She looked left and right, disoriented to see him now, and so soon. The old-fashioned streetlights cast a yellowish glow on the sidewalk.

“Where did you come from?”

“My parents’ beach house. After dinner, I decided to come back downtown and see if I can get into any trouble.”

His eyes slid from her face all the way down her body, leaving jet-spurts of intense warmth she wanted to feel again.

She stepped closer, hand on her hip, wishing she’d changed out of her work clothes. He hadn’t changed his outfit either and she almost burst out laughing when she realized they were both undressing each other with their eyes.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A ride.” Her eyebrows shot up, until he thumbed backward. “On the Bay Point Carousel.”

“Oh,” she said, exhaling a slow breath.

“I detect a tone of disappointment, Miss Kennedy.”

“Not at all. The Carousel is fun.”

But not as much fun as riding on you would be, she thought, holding back a smile.

“Too bad it’s already shut down for the night. Last ride is at eight thirty.”

“Let’s go for a stroll anyway. I have a feeling that we both need to clear our heads.”

He crooked his right arm at the elbow. “Shall we?”

Jasmine ignored the gesture and walked away, knowing that if he touched her, she would find him even more difficult to resist. She told herself that the only reason she was heading east, and not going back across the street where she belonged, was because she was going to take a walk anyway.

“If you won’t take my arm, will you at least take my advice?” he asked, catching up to her.

Jasmine shrugged. “Depends on what it is.”

“Don’t go peering into windows that are papered over. Chances are the owner doesn’t want you to see what’s in there.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. “I was closing up the restaurant and thought I saw a light being waved around.”

At his skeptical look, she paused. “At least I think I did.”

“While you’re snooping, someone else is dialing nine-one-one.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” she insisted, poking him lightly in the chest. “Just like you didn’t lose your pen.”

He grinned. “The point goes to you. All I meant was that I would hate to have to bail you out of jail.”

“You could call in a favor with the mayor.”

“I could, if I knew you better.”

“Is that why you came back tonight, and why you called to bug me earlier today?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. You just got home today. Any particular reason why you are back in town?”

“Just to relax and see my family.” He shrugged.

Jasmine folded her arms. “And you want to get away from them so soon?”

“Do you want to be around your family twenty-four-seven?”

“My folks don’t live on a palatial estate on the beach,” she tossed back in a breezy tone.

“Where are they? Back in New Orleans, I presume?”

She nodded. “My mother is but by dad lives in Baton Rouge. They divorced when I was twelve.”

As far as Jasmine was concerned, her grandmother was the only family she had right now.

He led her by the elbow to a bench near the carousel.

“I’d like to know more about you and Lucy.”

She glanced down Magnolia Avenue toward the restaurant.

“Why? The only thing you need to know is that she relies on me, so I better get back.”

He captured her hand, his touch gentle, but insistent.

“Stay with me a minute. Please?”

She paused for a moment, before sitting down.

“How do you like living in Bay Point so far?” he asked. “Complete opposite of New Orleans?”

She leaned back against the bench and nodded. “It’s small, quiet at night, maybe too quiet. I like the people for the most part. I like running on the beach, and the breezes that smell of salt and sand. I feel safe here.”

“Did something happen back in New Orleans?”

She swallowed hard, and wondered what he would think if she told him about her former boss.

“No, I just meant that there’s not a lot of crime here. I guess because it’s so small. I worry what will happen as the town continues to grow.”

“The police force will grow with it,” he said. “I know that Gregory is committed to continuing to bring new commerce into the town and more residents, but he’s also focused on keeping everyone safe, too.”

“That’s good to know. I heard he doesn’t want Bay Point to become a roadside tourist trap either.”

“I agree with him.” Micah crossed his legs at the ankles. “We’re close enough to the Pacific Coast Highway to be easily accessible, but not so close to have any drive-through restaurants. If people want to eat here, they have to park and get out of their cars.”

“Yes, people do tend to shop or check out the rest of the town, either before or after they eat.”

As the minutes passed, their conversation remained on the town. Micah, who claimed to be a local history buff, relayed some little-known stories that Jasmine found amusing, but far-fetched. She had a feeling that it would be easy for them to converse back and forth for hours on end.

“Tell me something. Why go through the trouble of getting to know me when you’re only just visiting for a few days?” she posed.

“That doesn’t mean we have to be strangers, does it?”

“I suppose we can start out as casual acquaintances,” Jasmine replied, giving in a little because she wanted to continue to see him.

“I don’t have a problem with that, if you promise to have dinner with me before I go.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I can spare the time. I work at the restaurant pretty much from sunup to sundown.”

“Doesn’t Lucy ever give you a break?”

“She’s the one who works too hard,” Jasmine said in her grandmother’s defense.

“Then I’ll just have to charm her into giving you a night off.”

“Ha! Give it a try, but she’s no fool, Micah. She told me all the Langston men were flirts.”

“And do you believe her?”

Jasmine folded her arms. “I’m still waiting for you to prove her right.”

Micah grinned. “Are you challenging me?”

“What do you think?”

He gave her a wide grin. “I think I like you. You’re beautiful, funny and—”

“Leaving,” she interrupted and stood, heart hammering in her chest.

Micah frowned. “Why so soon?”

“I’ve been away too long. I better go see if Lucy is okay.”

Living with her grandmother was a little like living with her parents, no privacy until after they were asleep. She couldn’t wait until she could get her own place.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, I’d rather be alone right now. See you later.”

Jasmine walked away, feeling his eyes on her back. It took everything in her power to keep on going. When she got to the restaurant, she turned around and the park bench was empty.

* * *

Micah circled around City Hall, before heading back to the alley. Back in his car, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was too close,” he muttered and realized that keeping his restaurant a secret was going to be very stressful.

After he’d emerged from the alley next to Vanessa’s flower shop, which was seven stores down from his space, and saw Jasmine trying to peek into the windows, he’d hesitated even approaching her. But he had to find out what she’d seen, or even better, what she’d been doing.

She’d taken him totally by surprise.

Although she’d claimed she was only taking a walk, Micah was afraid that she’d already caught the “snooping bug,” which many residents seemed to have in spades. They were intelligent, inquisitive and never could seem to find the time to mind their own business.

Maisie Barnell, owner of the only bed-and-breakfast establishment in town, was known as the eyes and ears of Bay Point, but she did it because she cared about its people.

Micah twisted his lips, realizing that tonight at least, he was being somewhat of a snoop himself. At first, his whole point of inviting her to the carousel park was to distract her. He wanted to talk to her enough to make her forget whatever she saw even if it was only the light from his phone.

Later, as they began to talk, he wanted to learn more about her. When she talked about New Orleans, her tone sounded nostalgic, but he also caught a hint of fear when he asked if something bad had happened to her.

When she denied it, he sensed she was lying. Out of respect, he didn’t question her further, but he’d felt a surge of tenderness for her, wanting her to feel safe, no matter where she happened to be. Hoping that she felt at ease with him.

He felt confident she didn’t suspect him as the “intruder” or that she even saw anything at all. Still, he decided that he would call the contractor and have him triple the paper on the windows. He wasn’t going to take any chances of anyone in Bay Point finding out that he was part owner of the space.

He wanted to see Jasmine again. Not to cover his tracks, but to really get to know her this time. She’d been glib about his dinner invite, even though he was serious.

He knew firsthand that working in the restaurant business left very little time for a real relationship. Closing his eyes, he recalled hot and heavy trysts in supply closets, vacant hotel rooms in-between guest check-ins, even alleys like the ones behind his restaurant.

That’s not what he wanted with Jasmine.

He was eager to get back to his parents’ house and be alone in his room. He wanted to think about Jasmine, the glow of her skin under the streetlamps, and how the light cast shadows in the swell of her cleavage.

There was something about Jasmine that made him think she could be the woman who could finally make him set down roots, though not necessarily in Bay Point. He wanted her badly, but he had to move slowly. With so much at stake for both of them, he wasn’t sure it would be fair to take the chance, no matter where it would lead.

Winning Her Heart

Подняться наверх