AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Where do you think you’re going?” he said without turning around.
“I missed the meat delivery. Sal’s going to kill me.” The meat guy was the least of her problems. That honor went to her father if he found out about her tardiness.
“Sit, Lili. I already took care of it.”
“You did?” Last week he’d risen at six and lolled beside her, sleepy, bed-headed, and so damn sexy, while she inspected the meat and signed for it. Now she knew why.
Tears threatened and she blinked to force them back, conscious of how easily she’d fallen into relying on him for her comfort and well-being. Her startling need for him was bad enough; she didn’t have to turn into minestrone soup over it.
Covering her sudden wave of emotion, she snaked her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against the smooth planes of his back. At her fluttery breath, his body sighed back, and yet again she marveled at his reaction. The same every time like he was surprised and he would never tire of her touch. She wondered if that were true or even possible.
“I must have been good in a previous life.” Her throat felt raw and scratchy.
He turned and gathered her close. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re certainly not good in this one.”
She breathed him in, absorbing the beat echoing like a drum beneath his skin. Fast and vital, like her own. He smoothed her hair helmet, a futile gesture given the time of day and the heat of the kitchen.
“You may not be aware of this, but I’ve accepted a few deliveries in my time. And it shouldn’t always be down to you. Tad should do more, your other cousins.” The unspoken, your father, hung in the air.
Competition between Jack and Tony had picked up where it left off at the taping. When not trying to one-up each other with tales of who had eaten the most disgusting thing to date—Jack was leading with fried water bugs, a Thai delicacy—they continued to square off in the DeLuca kitchen, pushing each other to create as Jack waited for his Chicago kitchen to be finished and planned his new menu. And while they kept their interactions painfully civil, Lili sensed Jack itching to be her champion in everything, including her strained relationship with her father.
“Jack, it’s my job. It’s my family.” He raised an eyebrow.
“And we’re not taking your money,” she added, knowing that was next. Jack had broached the idea of helping out financially but Lili shut down that line of thinking instantly. Accumulating more debt wasn’t the solution, and they both knew it, not while her father refused to make the wide-sweeping changes necessary. Neither did she want her rich and famous man bailing them out; her list of online soubriquets was insulting enough without adding ‘gold-digging whore’ to the mix.
Thankfully, interest in Lilack—her girlhood dream to be one half of a celebrity couple mash-up checked off the list!—had simmered down in the last couple of weeks, largely because they were being discreet. Not hiding, just not shouting it out to the hills. They’d hit a summer street festival in Old Town and attended a DeLuca family picnic at Grant Park for a free performance of Puccini’s Tosca, a favorite of her father’s. In between grumbles that it was two hours he would never have back, opera-hating Jack had kept her entertained with his own bawdy translations of the libretto.
Gently, he shoved her toward the table with, “Just let me take care of you. I want to.”
She wanted that, too, but wanting wasn’t going to make the fantasy into reality. Jack in her life for a couple of days a week was so much more than she could ever have wished for and she had to constantly remind herself that he was a loaner. Just a super nova fling. At this stage, checking her heart at the door was a downright impossibility, but she was trying to be cool about it. Any day, his network deal would be inked, beginning the countdown to the end of Lilack, but for now she just wanted to relish this unspoiled bubble of sex and comfort.
Gladly, she sat and relieved her jellied legs. A cup of coffee materialized, and Jack glided in by her side, distracting her with his monumental chest. He insisted on cooking breakfast
shirtless even though he risked grease burns and singed chest hair. He said it was worth the sacrifice to keep her in a constant state of sexual red alert.
They dug into scrambled eggs with fragrantly wafting truffle shavings and expelled a soft “hmm” of unified satisfaction. Lili sipped her skim-muddied coffee. One and a half Splendas.
Perfect.
“Jack, thanks for the delivery. For this.” For everything, she wanted to say. For coming into her life and making her realize that life is so much better when someone has your back, like he had hers.
He bestowed on her one of those Special K stares that was hot enough to burn calories. “Come here,” he said, his tone sexy-serious.
She’d given up protesting whenever he insisted she sit in his lap and just let herself enjoy how his body reacted to her weight. He liked how her butt spooned against his crotch and she liked how his breathing started to come in jagged jerks.
“Did you get a chance to look at the prospectus I brought back from Parsons?” he whispered against her neck after she’d settled in.
Reluctantly, her gaze veered to the glossy booklet on the counter near the sink. She had yet to decide if his act of picking it up on his last visit to New York was sweet or manipulative. Knowing Jack, probably both.
“Those brochures support the murder of trees,” she said, smiling. “You know there’s this thing called the Internet and it’s got all the information you could ever want on it.”
“The Internet. What’s that ever done for anyone?” Given her adventures over the last month, that was true to the last drop. He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes, holding something solid in your hand makes it seem more real. More within reach.”
Holding Jack didn’t make it seem more real and he was about as solid as they come. She had enough reality outside her apartment. Tracing the tattoo on his bicep with her finger allowed her a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve told you grad school is off the table for now. With the restaurant’s fortunes still up in the air, it’s not a good time.”
“I know you’re scared, sweetheart, but you’ve got to take that leap sometime. You’re using the restaurant as a crutch so you don’t have to make a decision.”
Am not. She examined her nails, but he called her on it by tilting her chin to face him. No avoidance stratagem was safe from his scrutiny.
