Falling for Her Rival

TWELVE


Baste

“You’re going on another date with Finn tonight?” Dana asked. She was seated on the couch in Lara’s apartment, eating a bowl of the tomato bisque with homemade croutons that Lara had whipped up for lunch. “How many does that make this week? Is it more than the five you and Finn went on last week.”

Not enough, in Lara’s estimation. The more time she spent with Finn, the harder it was to be apart. Hours stretched until they felt like days. It was crazy, insane. It was...right.

“You just sighed,” Dana accused, pointing the business end of a spoon at Lara.

The best offense was always a good defense, so Lara settled her hands on her hips. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes, I do.” Dana pouted. “You’ve had more dates in the past two weeks than I’ve had in six months. It’s not fair.” She grinned then. “But I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dana. I’m pretty happy for me, too.”

The network still had not decided what to do with Lara’s spot on Executive Chef Challenge. With the competition still on hiatus, Finn had lots of free time, and he seemed more than happy to spend it with Lara.

They had gone out to dinner a couple more times, and he’d cooked for her in his apartment as promised, making a Bolognese that had been almost as delicious as the lovemaking that had followed.

She’d never felt like this before. The only dark cloud was the seemingly irreparable rift with her father. Even in that, Finn tried to lift her spirits. Given his close family ties, it was no wonder he was so optimistic that Lara and her father would one day not only be on speaking terms again but would also enjoy a healthy father-daughter relationship.

Lara fussed with the slim silver belt at the waist of her red A-line dress. The outfit was new right down to the strappy three-inch heels on her feet. It wasn’t like her to worry about her appearance so much. Usually she just went with whatever her hand touched first when she reached into the closet. Her strategy worked because the bulk of her wardrobe was limited to mix-and-match separates in largely neutral shades.

But tonight...tonight seemed to call for even more care than dressing for an evening at the theater had the previous week, which was why she’d gone shopping earlier in the day.

She fussed with the silver belt again. It hadn’t come with the dress. She’d bought it on the saleswoman’s recommendation. Same for the sparkly chandelier earrings that caught the light whenever she turned.

“Do you think this is too much?”

“I think you look fabulous, and if I were four sizes smaller and six inches shorter, I would be asking to borrow that dress. Same for the shoes. The peep-toe thing is very sexy. Are they new?”

“Relatively,” she averred.

“Well, they get a thumbs-up.” She held up the digit in question. “I’d give them two, but that would require me to put down the bowl. This... What did you call it?”


“Bisque.”

“Right. Bisque.” She nodded. “It’s divine.”

“Thanks. It’s not hard to make. I can show you how.”

“That’s okay.” Dana shook her head. “We’ve gone that route before. Nothing I make ever turns out the way it does for you, even when I faithfully follow the recipe. Besides, I’d rather come over and raid your fridge. There’s always something amazing in there to reheat. And the bonus, I don’t have to do dishes.”

“Maybe I should start collecting a cover charge at the door.”

“I’d pay it without a second thought. In the meantime, I’ll just offer free advice.” She enjoyed a spoonful of bisque before continuing. “You asked if the dress is too much. I can’t answer that without knowing what you’re doing and where you will be doing it.”

Dana bobbed her eyebrows, making it impossible to keep a straight face. Even as she sent her gaze skyward, Lara was smiling.

“Finn is taking me to a birthday party.”

“That’s the what. I need the where. Restaurant? Banquet hall? And who is the party for? A child? His best friend?”

Lara nibbled the inside of her cheek as she debated the wisdom of being completely forthright with her friend, who was known to jump to conclusions. Nerves got the upper hand on her better judgment.

“It’s for his mom. She’s turning sixty and his family is getting together at his boyhood home in Queens to celebrate.”

“Oh.” Her friend’s eyes widened and her mouth stayed in a circle after uttering that single syllable. “You’ve known one another for less than three weeks and he’s taking you to meet his parents.”

“No, no, no.” Lara was quick with the denial. “Finn is not taking me to meet his parents. He’s taking me to a birthday party.”

“For his mother.” Dana nodded. “And mothers are also known as parents.”

“Okay, but it’s her party, so, sure, she’s going to be there.” Lara swallowed.

As would Finn’s father...

And his two sisters...

And an assortment of aunts, uncles, cousins and close family friends...

Finn might have mentioned something about a grandparent or two as well, but, of course, by that point, Lara had been concentrating so hard on not hyperventilating that she couldn’t recall the particulars. For that matter, her breathing was becoming a little erratic now.

It didn’t help matters when Dana said again, “Lara, please. He’s taking you to meet his parents!”

This time, she spoke slowly and several decibels louder, as if Lara were not only dim but practically deaf, as well.

“It’s not like that. I mean, I think we’re getting kind of serious, sure, but we haven’t known one another very long.”

“You barely knew Jeffrey when you agreed to marry him.”

Lara shook her head, feeling somewhat relieved by the comparison.

“That’s exactly my point. Jeffrey was a huge mistake, one that I made willfully and with the express purpose of irritating my father. You can’t rush real relationships. And the fact that both of us have been married before—”

“Finn was married, too? You didn’t mention that.”

And Lara wasn’t about to get into the details now, but then her friend asked, “How long has it been over?”

Lara replied, “Long enough. He’s not among the walking wounded.”

“Just be sure,” Dana said, her face etched with concern, and no wonder. Dana’s last serious boyfriend had dumped her after admitting he was still in love with his former fiancée.

“I am sure when it comes to that. Positive, in fact. But I don’t know where this is heading.”

“Where do you want it to head?”

Because the answer that sprang immediately to mind left her feeling dazed, Lara replied, “I’m enjoying myself. I’m happy. That’s enough for now.”

“For now.”

Rather than making Lara feel better, Dana’s agreement left her yearning for permanence.

“Did you hear me?” Her friend snapped a finger in front of Lara’s face. “I asked if I get to meet him.”

“If I say no, will it matter?”

Dana just grinned.

* * *

Finn’s breath caught when Lara opened her apartment door. He’d once thought of her looks as understated. Well, nothing about them could be classified as such now. She’d played up her eyes with some sort of makeup magic, and even though she’d left her hair down, it was pulled back on the sides to showcase a pair of dangling earrings. The dress, in va-va-va-voom red, wasn’t curve-hugging, but that hardly mattered. It cinched in at the waist before flowing away from her hips and ending just above the knee.

His immediate thought was What does she have on underneath it?

It was a question he fully intended to answer for himself later.

“Wow!” His exclamation came out in an exhaled rush.

“Too much?” she asked, frowning.

“Too perfect.”

She smiled, looking every bit as pleased now as she had appeared uncertain a moment earlier. “Thank you.”

He was leaning in to kiss her when he spied the tall brunette. She had a spoon in her mouth and what he construed as approval brimming in her eyes. He stopped, straightened and worked up a smile. “Hi.”

The brunette put the spoon in the bowl she was holding and grinned. “Hello.”

“Finn, this is my friend Dana,” Lara said. “She lives in an apartment down the hall.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, giving the woman’s hand a brief press.

“The same. So, Lara tells me you’re taking her to meet your—”

“A birthday party,” Lara cut in. “We’re going to a birthday party.”

“For his mother.”

“She’s turning sixty,” Lara added with an overly bright smile. “Don’t you have to be going now?”

“Right. Laundry awaits. Wouldn’t want to be late for that.”

She was two steps out the door when she popped back in and handed Lara the spoon and empty bowl. “Thanks for another delicious meal.” To Finn, she said, “Lara feeds me. In fact, with as much as she cooks, I think she feeds half of the tenants in this building.”

This time as she exited, Finn saw her flash a discreet thumbs-up in Lara’s direction.

“Sorry about that,” Lara said once they were alone in her apartment.

“That’s all right. I take it I passed muster?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t seen that.” She groaned and apologized a second time.

He decided to change the subject. Motioning with his chin, he asked, “So, what was in the bowl?”

“Tomato bisque with homemade croutons. It was my father’s recipe, but I’ve made a couple of changes to it over the years.” She rattled off an unexpected combination of spices that sounded amazing. “If you’re pressed for an appetizer idea on the show, it makes an excellent first course.”

“I’ll have to get the recipe from you,” Finn replied, although at the moment he had something more delectable in mind when it came to first courses.

He took the bowl and set it aside. Then he pulled her against him. The move was akin to striking a match. Something caught, flared even before their mouths met.

Finn intended the kiss to be hot. He saw no point in pretending he didn’t want their date to end with Lara beneath him on a mattress, moaning with pleasure. So, yes, he intended it to be hot, but brief, too, since they had a party to get to, one that they’d just barely make on time even with traffic on their side. But as soon as he felt Lara’s arms encircle his neck, he knew brief wasn’t in the cards. He had a better chance of extinguishing a bonfire with kerosene than quashing this hormone-fueled inferno.


He had the skirt of the dress he’d admired already rucked up to her waist before the kiss ended. The tips of his fingers were flirting with her panties when he felt her hands tug at his belt.

“Great minds,” he murmured.

“Do we have time?”

“I think so.”

A throaty chuckle ensued, and she asked, “And which head might you be thinking with, Finn?”

“The only one that counts right now.” He marched her backward several paces and glanced around. The couch was handy, but not very big. He wanted space. Room to spread out.

“Bedroom?” she asked.

Great minds, definitely. He nodded.

“Second door on the right,” she told him and then let out a squeal of surprise when Finn scooped her up in his arms and carried her there.

“I’ve never been swept off my feet before,” Lara remarked as he started down the short hallway.

“The gesture seems appropriate, not to mention expedient.”

“I thought maybe it was intended to be romantic.”

“That, too,” he replied on a grin as he entered her bedroom.

It was a typical size for Manhattan, which meant it barely accommodated her bed with just enough left on either side for floating nightstands. This was especially the case since the bed in question was king-size. He’d hoped for room. Wish granted.

“You have a very big bed,” he murmured in appreciation, as he deposited her on the side that was not covered in clothes.

“You’ll have to excuse the mess. I wasn’t sure what to wear and I changed several times before realizing...” Lara’s voice trailed away.

“That this outfit was the one,” he finished, giving the hemline a nudge north.

She made a strangled sound when his fingers trailed over the sensitive skin on the insides of her thighs.

“N-n-no. More like that I needed to go shopping.”

“It’s a nice dress.”

Finn decided he would let her remove it, lest he rip it to pieces in his haste. In the meantime, he peeled off his sports coat.

“The shoes are new, too,” she said, drawing his gaze to sexy heels. She toed them off slowly, letting first one and then the other drop to the floor. The muffled thud they made on the rug was no match for the loud pounding of his heart.

“I like those, too,” he managed.

Even if they weren’t quite stiletto height, the heels she’d been wearing were a definite turn-on, especially on a woman who he was pretty sure didn’t don them often.

But Lara had done so for him.

And she’d gone to the trouble of shopping for a new dress, too. For their date. He found her candor every bit as appealing as the tantalizing view of her thighs that her prone pose on the mattress revealed.

He had plans for those thighs. Big plans. And so he got busy with the buttons of his shirt.

He hadn’t bothered with a tie. He wasn’t the sort of man who felt comfortable wearing one, although he owned several, and when the occasion demanded it, he not only put one on but could also manage a passable Windsor knot. This occasion did not. His mother wouldn’t expect such formality from her son or any of the other men at her birthday celebration. And Finn was exceedingly glad for that now since it meant one less article of clothing for him to remove.

His shirt was shed in short order, and then he started on his pants. Lara was on her knees on the bed now, tugging the dress over her head. She emerged from beneath the fabric with her hair mussed, her expression eager and the miserly scraps of red satin that passed for undergarments making his mouth go slack even as other parts of his body turned rigid.

“I was wondering what you had on under that dress.”

“Like?”

He swallowed. “Oh, yeah.”

She smiled in response, and when he just stood there ogling her like some oversexed teenager, she prodded, “Do you need help with your pants?”

He blinked, cleared his throat. Before he could respond, though, she had taken matters into her own hands—literally—by reaching for the end of the belt that she had so eagerly unbuckled during their kiss in the living room. Lara gave it a yank, pulling it free with a flourish.

Finn unzipped his fly. “I think I can take it from here,” he told her.

* * *

They were late for the party.

Lara had known they would be the moment Finn swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She hadn’t cared then. She’d been too desperate and turned on to have second thoughts. She had them now as they walked through the front door of his boyhood home.

They hadn’t cleared the foyer when they were descended upon by a pair of young women. The sisters he’d warned her about, Lara decided, based on their similar coloring and facial features.

“They can smell fear,” he leaned close and whispered into her ear.

She was pretty sure he was kidding.

Lara worked up a smile as the first wave of the inquisition began.

“Finn, you’re late.” The taller of the two women announced before sticking out her hand, “I’m Kate. Finn’s favorite sister. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Kate sent Finn a meaningful look.

“Thank you. The sa—”

“Kristy.”

This woman was shorter, appeared younger. But when she grabbed Lara’s hand, her grip was firm almost to the point of painful. For a moment, Lara wondered if Kristy intended to arm wrestle. But then she let go.

“We’ve been dying to meet you,” Kate said.

“Yeah.” Kristy nodded. “We wanted to have lunch earlier in the week, but Finn said you were busy.”

“Oh?” She cast an amused glance in his direction.

Joanna came up then. “Lara!”

She didn’t bother with a handshake. She wrapped Lara in a bone-crushing hug, literally picking her up off the ground.

“All right. All right. Put her down,” Finn said. When Lara’s feet hit the floor, he told them, “Back off and give her some breathing space.”

She might have appreciated his interference, but now that his sisters and cousin no longer had her boxed in, she had the full attention of the large crowd that filled the living room.

“Will you look at that! Griffin brought a date,” an older woman said. Her warbly voice boomed in the suddenly quiet room.

“Sorry,” Finn murmured. “My grandmother won’t admit it, but she’s a little hard of hearing.”

Kate leaned in close to add, “Yeah. I’m pretty sure she thought she was whispering.”

“Are all of these people related to you?” Lara asked Finn.

Even if she were to add in all of the relatives on the farthest branches of her family tree, she doubted she could come up with this many people. Her mother was an only child. And her father had only one sister, whose husband had died before Lara was born. They’d had no children. The Westbrook gene pool, meanwhile, seemed as vast as the Atlantic. Not only was the living room packed, but more people were spilling in from the doorways to other parts of the house. It was amazing.... It was terrifying.

“Uh, Finn. She looks like she could use a drink,” Kristy noted, her tone wry.

“I’ll get her one. Which would you prefer?” Joanna asked. “A beer or a glass of wine?”

“Yes.” Lara nodded, too dazed to make an actual choice.

Dimly, she was aware of Finn telling his cousin to bring a glass of merlot.

“Where’s Mom?” he then asked Kate, whose face split into a grin.

“Where do you think?”

“Come on.” He grabbed Lara’s hand. “We’re heading to the kitchen.”


Lara took a deep breath as they left the relative safety of the foyer and waded into the throng of guests. She might not know where the kitchen was located, but even without Finn to guide her, she figured she could have found it simply by following her nose. A tantalizing mix of herbs spiced the air. Garlic, rosemary and thyme were the obvious ones. Lara inhaled deeply, this time to savor the aroma rather than to quell her nerves.

“Something smells marvelous.”

He winked. “If you think it smells good, just wait till you taste it.”

They didn’t get far before someone clapped Finn on the back in greeting. Then another person pulled him in for a bear hug. Kisses were exchanged as readily as her parents used to trade thinly veiled insults.

All the while, Finn took the time to introduce Lara to each and every one of them. Never would she remember all of their names. In fact, other than his sisters and Joanna, she’d already forgotten them. There simply were too many and she was overwhelmed. The feeling had less to do with the sheer number of kin and close friends that had gathered under one roof to wish his mother a happy birthday, and more to do with camaraderie and caring on display. She’d never experienced anything remotely like this. Indeed, she’d assumed it existed only in books and movies. But it was real, tangible and beautiful in a way that made her ache.

When they reached his grandmother, the older woman pinched Finn’s cheeks with her arthritic fingers.

“And who might this pretty young woman be?” she asked before he could get out a word.

“This is Lara Dunham, Grandma.” He leaned down toward her ear and said it loudly. In a wry voice he added, “I’m surprised my sisters haven’t mentioned her.”

She waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. “They talk too fast and are always muttering half under their breath. How is an old woman supposed to hear anything they say?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Westbrook,” Lara said.

The older woman gave her the once-over with a pair of rheumy eyes. “That remains to be seen, my dear girl. That remains to be seen.”

Lara was taken aback, but caught herself before she could laugh. And thank God, because the older woman was dead serious. She was glad for the glass of wine Finn’s cousin handed her just then.

Lara fortified herself with a sip as Finn whisked her to the kitchen, throwing out introductions in haphazard fashion as he propelled her through a pack of chattering aunts and female cousins to a woman who stood in front of the stove, patiently stirring a pot of something. The man beside her was an older version of Finn—same handsome face, if more weathered and refined.

“Finish up already, Mary,” he said. “Your guests don’t care if the gravy has a few lumps. They’re here to see you.”

“You can’t rush good gravy,” she protested with a shake of her head. Then she turned and her gaze fell on Finn. “Griffin, you made it!”

“Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss your party, Mom. Happy birthday.”

“I expected you an hour ago.” She cocked an eyebrow after saying so. “You said you’d help with any last-minute dinner preparations.”

“I... Um.” He glanced at Lara, who felt her face catch fire. “Traffic,” he lied. “We ran into a big backup on the way over.”

The older man grinned. Neither of his parents appeared convinced, but the matter was promptly dropped.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now. And that you brought your...friend.”

Mary said it the same way Joanna had when they’d met in Spanky’s.

“This is Lara. Lara, my parents, Mary and Donovan Westbrook.”

His mother handed the whisk to Finn so she could shake Lara’s hand. She didn’t let go afterward. Instead, she steered Lara out the back door onto the duplex’s deck, leaving her son to tend to the gravy. Her husband followed them.

“My daughters tell me you’re a chef,” she began.

“I am. Yes.”

“Finn is very gifted.”

Lara nodded.

“You know he was married before, right?”

“Mary.”

But she shushed her husband and held Lara’s gaze.

“Yes. He told me.”

“She was a chef, too.”

“Mary.”

This time she waved a hand at Donovan before continuing. “She broke his heart, stole his recipes, even the ones that came from our family, and damaged his reputation.”

Lara cleared her throat. “He told me that, too.”

“Good. His heart has mended. He’s creative enough to come up with new recipes. And his reputation... Well, he’s doing his damnedest to see that restored. As his mother, it pained me to see him put through hell. I am relieved to see his life turning around. So you will understand when I warn you that if you hurt him, I will hurt you.”

She smiled so beautifully afterward that Lara might have thought she’d heard wrong, but Finn’s father had closed his eyes and was groaning.

Finn came outside and rescued her then.

“Hey, Mom. Gravy’s ready, and the roast looks rested enough for Dad to start slicing.”

Once they were alone, he said, “So, what did my mom say to you?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Lara lifted her shoulders in a negligible shrug that belied her words when she added, “She just threatened me with bodily injury if I did anything to hurt you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his laughter. “She did not.”

“Uh-huh.” To her mortification, her eyes grew moist.

“Lara? Hey, it’s okay. She didn’t really mean it.”

“Yes, she did.” But that wasn’t why Lara had started to cry. She rose on her tiptoes to give Finn a quick kiss. “You are so lucky.”