The following few days went by in a blur for Mara. Several days after the fire, she was finally moving into Jared’s guest house, which was in truth right next door to his mansion and might as well have been considered part of his gigantic residence. Except it didn’t share a wall with the main home, and the separate dwelling had its own entrance. The so-called guest house was ridiculously large, a three-bedroom ranch that was fully furnished, including an excellent cook’s kitchen with all the accessories she needed to make her products in much larger quantities than she ever had previously. Looking at the kitchen area, Mara was almost giddy with excitement.
She’d tried to get started on arrangements to get supplies, really wanting to make some jams and taffy for the next farmers’ market on Saturday. Jared had nixed the idea with a fierce scowl when he looked at her ankle the evening after their passionate encounter. She’d woken up alone late that evening after the fire and limped downstairs, much to Jared’s irritation. He’d picked her up and plopped her on the couch, warning her not to move until the swelling in her ankle came down. She was pretty sure he had been chastising himself for letting her be so physical in bed with him, thinking it had made her ankle worse. Maybe it had . . . but Mara wasn’t about to complain. She’d do it all over again if she could. Nothing would ever compare to such a tragic night turning into such a journey of discovery for her. Learning that her body could burn that hot had been an epiphany, and she’d never think sex was overrated again. In fact, it could probably be highly addictive. Having Jared close, as close as she could get to him, had taken away the devastating emptiness of that night for her. Honestly, it had taken away all of her loneliness.
Even though it was only for a short time, I’ll never regret it.
Neither one of them had brought up the topic of their frenzied sexual activities that night. Jared appeared to be more determined to protect her than he was to fuck her ever since that incredible day. Obviously, there would be no repeat performance, and Mara wasn’t sure if being together like that again would even be wise now that she had her head more together again. She was coming to like and understand Jared more and more the longer she spent time with him, learning new things about him every day. Getting too close to him, being with him again like she had that day, could prove disastrous. She could very easily become infatuated with him, and Jared wasn’t the kind of man who wanted attachments.
Mara chuckled softly as she familiarized herself with her new temporary home, thinking about some of the more humorous things she’d learned about Jared in the last few days of staying with him in the big house. The guy was a complete and total sweets and coffee addict. He didn’t function well without his coffee, and he ate sweets like they were an orgasmic experience. She’d laughed outrageously when she read the directions for his coffeemaker, quickly figuring out that Jared was yanking off the tops of the little containers of coffee rather than putting them into the device intact. The appliance made a perfect beverage; Jared had not. She’d snickered as he’d looked at her like she was a goddess because she could make a perfect cup of coffee. Since then, he’d mastered the simple task after he’d laughed at himself for the highly uncomplicated error. Of course, he’d grumbled when she’d teased him about everything being in the directions for the electronic device.
The taffy he’d gotten from her had been gone within the first day, and his supply of jam was dwindling since he seemed to pile it on his toast or bagel in the morning liberally. He usually preferred to watch movies or read in lieu of regular television shows, and he had a preference for classical music. He did indeed work out every single day, hitting his gym in the basement after he’d woken up with at least two cups of coffee and toast or a bagel slathered with her jam in the morning.
However, her most important discovery of all was that he cared about people, whether he wanted to show that side of himself to others or not. He’d coddled her for days, helping her fill out the forms to get her important documents replaced. One of the few things that had been recovered was her charred, soot-covered purse. It had been in the kitchen, and she’d been able to save her cards, checkbook, and her driver’s license, so it left her fewer documents to replace. But with the fire investigation ongoing, and all of the things she had to do to prepare to take Kristin’s place in Sarah’s wedding, she was going to be busy.
She and Jared had scanned the Internet, looking at website designs, logos, equipment, and all of the other online details that needed to be discussed if the business was going primarily on the net.
Mara had wanted “Sinclair” to go into the business name. After all, Jared was financing it. He’d insisted that the business was hers, he couldn’t cook worth a shit so the “Sinclair” would be a lousy endorsement, and he wanted to name it Mara’s Kitchen. After an afternoon of furious debate, the Mara’s Kitchen name had stuck, and he’d won, giving her a reasonable list of reasons why the name would be better and more focused toward their target customers—women. The business was going to be hers by name, and her efforts would either succeed or fail. Luckily, she had no intentions of failing.
It’s going to bear my name. My reputation will be on the line.