Nine
Nicole soaked in a hot bath in her new claw-footed tub. After her night with Sam, her body ached in the best possible way. She leaned her head back and let her mind drift to the many aspects of the man she was coming to know. He could be tender and sweet one minute, hard and demanding the next. She hoped he’d stick with her long enough for her to learn more.
Her eyes drifted shut and she thanked her lucky stars she’d met him before her wedding and was grateful she’d found the strength to end her engagement. If not, she wouldn’t have spent last night in her bed. With Sam. She smiled and sank deeper into the bubbled water.
She trailed the loofah over her calves and her knees and up her thighs before picking up the handheld shower massager to clear the soap. The sweet scent of strawberry soap prickled her senses. And as the water teased her *, arousal swept through her. With thoughts of Sam on her mind, she settled the light spray between her thighs, placing just the right amount of pressure on her sex, creating a delicious friction, before easing one of her fingers between her slick folds.
She moaned at the same time her phone rang, jarring her into awareness. She glanced down and caught sight of Sam’s name, and her stomach flipped in awareness and embarrassment. She dried her hand on a towel and slid the bar across the screen to answer.
“Hey,” she said, hoping her tone didn’t give her away.
“Hi.”
His voice oozed sex and sin, and the heaviness between her thighs increased tenfold. She drew her knees up and squeezed tight.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
She looked down at the shower massager, a reminder of how close she’d been to bringing herself pleasure she’d rather he give her. “Umm . . . I’m in the tub.”
He expelled a harsh breath. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”
She grinned, glad she wasn’t the only one affected. “Then you shouldn’t have slipped out before I woke up.” But he’d been a gentleman and left a note, which enabled her to fall back to sleep without believing he’d done a one-eighty in his thinking or pulled a guy stunt and carelessly skipped the morning after.
It almost made her trust that he was capable of more than he thought when it came to relationships, but he’d been up front with her. So she knew better.
“I promised my father I’d help him around the house. You were out cold and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So what can I do for you now?” she asked.
He laughed, low and deep. “That’s a loaded question while you’re naked in the bathtub, sweetheart.”
Her breath caught at the easily used endearment.
“Actually you can join me for dinner later.”
A flush of happiness rushed through her. “I’d love to.”
“See? I can take you out like a gentleman,” he said, causing her heart to tighten in her chest. “Dress up.”
“Okay.”%
“And be good in that bath.”
Her face flushed and she wondered if he knew just how bad she planned to be.
The rest of the day passed quickly, with a trip to the grocery store, and then she spent the better part of the afternoon doing her favorite thing: baking. Nothing made a house feel more like a home than the fresh smell of homemade anything, and now that she had her own equipment, this small house was beginning to feel like a real home to her.
She settled on macarons, the currently in-vogue French cookie. The recipe for these cookies was deceptively simple, but in reality, it was intense and time consuming and took lots of patience, of which she had plenty.
For hours, she lost herself in a process she found soothing. She knew just how soft to make the peaks of the egg whites before adding another ingredient, then whisking once more. Then came the pastry bag and the painstaking creation of rounds without peaks by bringing the pastry tip to the side.
She made chocolate ganache and Swiss buttercream filling, so Sam would have a choice, keeping an eye on the oven as she worked. Another part of the process involved a careful watching of time, lowering then raising the temperature for the next batch. A bomb could have gone off in the next room and she wouldn’t have noticed, and when she finally lifted her head to glance at the clock, she realized she didn’t have much time to shower before Sam arrived to pick her up.
Dress up, he’d said.
She chose a soft pale blue skirt and flowing tank top loosely belted, and a pair of metallic sandals. She blow-dried her hair, but parts were still damp and she decided it could air-dry. A hint of blush and lip gloss, bangle bracelets, a long necklace, and dangling earrings, and she was ready with minutes to spare.
Then her cell phone rang. A glance told her it was her sister, which was unusual and off the set schedule.
“Hello?” Nicole asked, aware she was holding her breath.
“Hi! I have the best news!” Vicky said, sounding more excited than Nicole could remember.
Very up, and a prickle of nerves assaulted Nicole.
“What’s up?” she asked as she settled onto her bed.
Vicky squealed in excitement. “My doctor said if I keep progressing like this, I can take a day trip out of here. You know, like a test run to see how I handle being back out in the world.”
Nicole swallowed hard. It was one thing to think about her sister getting better, another to contemplate her being out. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“I am. I just need someone to agree to be my guardian for the day.”
Another nervous flutter took up residence in Nicole’s stomach, and she shivered.
“. . . But I’m sure Mom or Dad will agree,” Vicky continued, obviously rambling with excitement.
“I just don’t want you to set yourself up for disappointment,” Nicole warned her.
“It’s one day. Twelve hours. Less even.”
Nicole shook her head at how Vicky tended to hang on to her optimism when it came to their parents, mostly because her mind ran toward the delusional. “We’ll see, I guess.”
“Oops! Gotta go. My time’s up. Bye!” her sister said, and disconnected the call.
Nicole prayed their parents would step up, but she had her doubts. Which meant Vicky would ask to visit Nicole for the day instead, and nobody in Serendipity would want to deal with that. Especially not the Marsdens.
She closed her eyes, thinking of Sam’s family. They’d been kind to her about her sister, but that was easy when Vicky was out of sight. Faced with her return? Nicole shuddered at the definite conflict inherent in that situation.
The ringing of her doorbell interrupted her thoughts. She glanced out the window by the door and smiled when she saw Sam in khaki pants and a collared shirt. He oozed male confidence and sex appeal, his scruffy hair untamed despite obvious efforts.
She let him in and he greeted her with a warm kiss on the mouth. His lips lingered and she sighed into him.
“Mmm, that’s nice,” she said, running her tongue over her lips.
She could be so happy here and she didn’t want her sister to ruin what she was building in Serendipity, she thought, then immediately felt guilty and selfish.
“Just nice?” Sam asked, his brows wrinkled.
“Very nice,” she amended, chiding herself to push thoughts of her sister and her problems out of her mind.
She had a hot man waiting for her and she wasn’t about to waste time thinking about things that might not happen. There was always the chance that her sister’s doctor wouldn’t allow her to come to Serendipity at all.
And if he did?
Nicole would stand by her twin. They were blood. She had no choice.
Sam narrowed his gaze. Nicole’s preoccupied tone set off warning signals that something was up. Especially since he didn’t think his kissing skills had gone south since he saw her last. She was barely paying attention when usually she couldn’t keep her hands to herself when they were alone.
“What’s wrong?” Although she’d definitely dressed for their date, looking hot and sexy, her mind was somewhere else.
And when she glanced at her phone before answering him, she confirmed his suspicions.
“I just spoke to my sister.”
He preferred not to think about her mentally ill twin, but as he’d told his brother, they were two different people. “Is everything okay?”
She rolled her shoulders and sighed. “Her doctor says she’s ready for a day visit, and she’s hoping my parents will let her come home.”
His gut cramped at the thought of her twin out and about in the world. “Why wouldn’t they?”
Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Let’s not discuss my dysfunctional family.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging her tense muscles in the hopes of getting her to relax. “You can talk to me,” he said, meaning it.
She shook her head. “Nobody should have to handle my load but me. I appreciate it, though.” She shifted her gaze. “So where are we going for dinner?”
He ought to not just respect her need for privacy, but be happy with her unwillingness to share. The more distance they kept between them, the better. She was too easy to fall for. But it bothered him that she wouldn’t confide in him about her problems and feelings. Shit. No feelings. He shook his head and forced himself to take her cue and move on to the rest of the evening.
He’d made a reservation at a steak house about twenty-five minutes outside Serendipity. Once there, he’d requested a quiet table in the back, where he held her hand and plied her with good wine, and visibly she relaxed. The tightness in her expression eased and her eyes, which had seemed so troubled earlier, were clearer and focused on him.
Their secluded table consisted of a booth in the back corner and let him sit beside her, not across the table. He could lean in and inhale her floral scent, watch her enjoy her meal, and shift positions so their thighs aligned and touched throughout the various courses.
They talked about nothing and everything and Sam learned how much they had in common, from enjoying all the new police procedural shows on television to the occasional raunchy comedy—which surprised him—to classic rock tunes. They differed on sports. She hated football, which only made him determined to teach her the workings of the game and change her mind this upcoming season.
Finally she placed her fork and knife down on her plate and let out a pleased sigh that went right to his groin. “The best steak ever,” she said.
“Worth the trip,” he agreed, for more reasons than the food. He’d do just about anything to keep the satisfied smile on her face, not to mention the way she looked at him, unable to take her eyes off him for a second. The feeling was more than mutual.
She finished her second glass of red wine and the waiter immediately came around asking if she’d like a refill. “No, thank you.” She covered the top of the glass with her hand.
“Tipsy?” he asked.
She smiled. “Pleasantly buzzed.”
He, on the other hand, was perfectly sober and driving them home, but he could freely admit to being high on her alone. There’d never been a lull in the conversation. Everything she talked about, from her plans for the bakery, which she hoped to have the keys to next week, to stories of how she’d managed to raise big money for Tyler’s mother’s campaign for borough president, both charmed and interested him.
“Enough about me. What makes Sam Marsden tick?” she asked.
“Right now, you’re making me tick,” he said, leaning in close and nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. He wanted to get inside her skin.
“Flatterer.”
His hand slid to her thigh and a blush rose to her cheeks as she squirmed beside him. “We’re in public.”
He glanced around the darkened corner of the restaurant. “Umm, no we aren’t. And nobody can see.” Inch by inch, he slid the material of her long skirt up her legs, until his palm touched the bare skin of her thigh.
Leaning in, he whispered, “Relax.” Then he licked at the small patch of skin behind her ear.
She rewarded him with a full body shudder and her nipples tightened into buds visible beneath her top.
“You’re a bad boy, Sam,” she said, her voice husky and raw.
“It’s only bad if we get caught. If we don’t, it’s all good.”
She looked up at him through eyes half open. “Why?”
“Because you were stressed and need some relief.” And because he desired her and he couldn’t wait until they got home.
She studied his face, making him wonder not only what she was looking for, but if she’d find it. Then to his surprise, she relaxed, the muscles in her legs gave way, and she opened for him. The trust inherent in that one move humbled him—and truly frightened the young man inside him who’d had his heart and his own trust ripped to shreds one October morning.
The only way he could ignore his rapidly beating heart was to focus on Nicole’s pleasure. Around them, he heard the sounds of a busy night at a restaurant. Busboys loading trays, waiters checking in at tables, conversations between patrons.
He’d paid and tipped for privacy, and until he asked for a check, they’d be alone. He kept asking himself why he was putting in the extra effort to wine, dine, and seduce her, and all he could come up with was Nicole. She’d been afraid he was in it for sex only, and he wanted to take her out in public and reassure her. Treat her like the lady she was.
He told himself it didn’t have anything to do with her fancy ex-fiancé, but he wasn’t so sure. A part of him figured this was his way of competing. Not that she’d made him feel like Tyler was in the running, but she deserved to be wined and dined.
Pleasured.
Beneath the tablecloth, he drew her skirt up over her thighs and cupped her completely, her damp heat pulsating against his palm. Her breath caught and her eyes opened wide, but she didn’t stop him as he pushed aside her flimsy underwear and slid his finger along her slick folds.
Her lips parted and she sighed.
“Shh,” he said, brushing her hair off her cheek. With his hidden hand, he shifted positions until his fingertip touched her *. Her hips jerked in response and he turned her head toward him, sealing his lips over hers.
He kissed her while he stroked the tiny bud, all the while aware of her increasing wetness and building desire, the hushed moans he devoured with his mouth, and the way her smaller hands gripped his sides. He kept up the pressure, her feminine juices coating his finger. His dick wanted inside her so badly he could barely breathe, but that meant he had to get her home. So first she had to come.
He stroked her harder, more insistently. Circled his finger over and over her * until he silenced her cries with his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside her in the same rhythm he used to control her orgasm with his finger.
Soon he gentled the kiss as she came down.
He touched his forehead to hers. “Okay?” he asked her.
“Sublime.”
He tilted his head back and met her hazy gaze. “Beautiful.”
Her cheeks were pink, her lips swollen. “Mortified.”
He brushed his thumb over her mouth. “Don’t be. Nobody knows but us. And now that you’ve had dessert, it’s time for the check.”
“Maybe I’ve had dessert, but you haven’t.” She smiled at him then. “Hurry up so it can be your turn.”
In that instant, Sam knew he was falling for this woman and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it.
As the art festival and the weekend approached, Serendipity grew more crowded with people Sam didn’t know or recognize. Mike put more cops on foot patrol and Sam was grateful he’d made detective or he’d be working even longer hours. He hadn’t seen Nicole since spending the night at her house after their date. He did, however, have enough memories to keep him going.
They hadn’t slept much and he discovered that despite the occasional shyness, she was a match for him in bed as well as out. She’d made him breakfast, the best egg and cheese omelet he’d ever eaten, and sent him home with cookies she’d obviously baked the day before and had ready for him when it was time for him to head home to shower and go to work.
He’d never slept at a woman’s place nor had one stay over at his for obvious reasons, yet doing it with Nicole felt right. Despite the fact that he was feeling uncomfortably domesticated, he couldn’t get her out of his head. He called her that day and again during the week, and damned if hearing her voice didn’t add something to his long day. Even when working, he found his mind drifting, her blue eyes and the sounds she made when he was deep inside her staying with him wherever he went.
She and Aunt Lulu had taken a booth at the art festival, and Sam headed home to change so he could attend the big event downtown. Normally he wouldn’t go near an art festival, but like everything else when it came to Nicole, he was drawn there and he planned to be one of her first customers.
Things moved fast in a small town because people were willing to work on faith and trust. The bakery itself was in pristine condition, the equipment fairly new. Having a partner to share the workload helped. Aunt Lulu had all the information about inspectors and licenses and had agreed to handle the business end of things. Meanwhile, Nicole called Kelly Barron, a paralegal in town, to discuss having partnership papers drawn up, while the bank manager assured them their loan would be approved sometime next week, and the landlord had allowed them into the shop in advance of papers being signed.
With a few phone calls, they had the electricity and water turned on and Nicole spent the day Friday baking for Saturday’s art festival. She hoped to give the good people of Serendipity a taste of what was to come when their bakery opened. Aunt Lulu would bring pies and cakes to their booth, and she posted signs around town.
As she readied for what she considered her debut, Nicole was finally starting to feel like she belonged somewhere. Other than Tyler still hanging around, calling and stopping by, all of which she blatantly ignored, praying he’d get the message, life was looking up.
Tyler met Macy at her family’s restaurant, and together they planned to go to the art festival. He had to admit she was a good sport about being his sidekick, considering she believed his main goal was to win back Nicole. What Macy didn’t know was that Tyler knew a losing battle when he fought one. He understood Nicole was serious about living her own life. He even got that she was involved with another man. Hell, she didn’t return his calls and he’d be a fool to think otherwise.
“Earth to Tyler.” Macy waved a hand in front of his face. “You alive?”
“Just thinking,” he told her.
She hopped onto the stool next to him. “About what?”
He glanced over and met her gaze. Honestly interested blue eyes stared back at him. She was so different looking from Nicole, less exotic, her pale face making her large eyes stand out. But it was her genuine concern for him that made him feel something different than ever before.
“Have you ever been torn between doing what’s right and family loyalty or expectations?” he asked.
She propped her chin on her hand. “Not the way you probably mean. Family comes first, but we’re all so strong-willed, we always clash when it comes to what we want. Like Aunt Lulu got all upset last year and quit here to go work for a supermarket. Then she got hurt and my family circled the wagons and took her back immediately.” She shrugged. “But I’m thinking whatever’s bothering you is bigger than that.”
“What makes you think something’s bothering me?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think I’m buying this whole Nicole-and-I-are-meant-for-each-other thing? One look at you and I get the sense that it’s killing you to chase after a woman who isn’t interested.”
With her insight, the anxiety that had been riding him since he’d arrived in town eased somewhat. “You got that, huh?” He leaned in closer.
She didn’t pull away.
“Yeah, I did. So why are you doing it? What kind of family would have you sacrificing yourself and your dignity?”
She was so close, he wanted to lean in and kiss her. More than that, he wanted to explain his motives, but doing so would put her in danger and he already had one woman to look out for. He couldn’t drag another into his problems.
“Let’s just say that the rich are different, and I don’t mean that in any insulting way.” With regret, he forced himself to straighten up and pull away.
Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “Sucks for you,” she said in her blunt way, looking at him with pity.
And making him feel uncomfortable in his own skin.
She sighed. “I’d rather just make ends meet than suffer with that kind of obligation.”
“Me too,” he said, surprising himself.
He must have shocked her too, because she smiled at that.
“But I can’t,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked, still interested, but the light in her eyes had dimmed.
He hated disappointing her, but he knew that he had. “That obligation runs pretty deep.”
So deep that he’d sacrifice himself for his father? He asked himself outright for the first time. Before now, he’d gone about blindly doing as his father asked, but Tyler wanted more for himself than a family business built on corruption and lies. More than a woman who didn’t love him—and whom he couldn’t love, if he was responding to Macy this way. So no, he thought, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice himself for his father.
But before he could extricate himself, he needed a plan. He even wondered if talking to Nicole’s cop was an option.
“Ready to go?” Macy asked, when he didn’t elaborate on the situation.
“Sure.” He pushed the idea of talking to Sam aside, to mull over before doing anything rash.
Macy headed to the back of the restaurant to get her bag. He was coming to know her routine as well as he knew his own, he mused.
As she returned, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her tanned legs were long beneath the cutoff shorts, and on her feet was electric blue toenail polish. Her white sandals had a heavy fringe. She was dynamite in a petite package, and he enjoyed every minute he spent with her.
They arrived downtown, parking and walking from far away. Obviously the festival was a huge draw. Macy liked art and so did he, which gave him a rush, thinking finally they had something in common. As they passed the various artists set out with their canvases and work, Macy’s eyes lit up and she paused at every landscape they saw.
And when she homed in on an artist and piece she wanted, she headed straight past Nicole’s food booth, barely waving at her friend.
Although Tyler knew he should stop and talk to Nicole, gauge her mood, and hope maybe she was having trouble with Sam, he focused on Macy. She was talking to the young man who’d painted the beautiful panorama of a small town at the base of a mountain range; he was caught up in Macy’s enthusiasm and excitement.
She’d asked about price when he caught sight of two men he recognized. Both blond, dressed casually so they would blend in with the casual tourists, but Tyler knew better. He’d met both men when they came to his Manhattan office to meet with his father. Tyler had sat in on the discussion, as they were new clients and he always tried to be aware of their investors.
On the surface, both men, L.A. art dealers, weren’t out of place at an art show, where they routinely discovered new talent. If he were to dig deeper, he knew that there were thousands of similar shows across the country and even in the northeast each weekend, and it was no coincidence they’d chosen the innocuous town of Serendipity at the same time both he and Nicole were here. If Tyler had to guess, his father had gotten tired of waiting and made a preemptive move by alerting them to possible trouble with Nicole.
Tyler tried not to panic, but he knew he had to alert Nicole to potential danger.
“Tyler, what do you think of the price?” Macy asked him. “It’s too steep for me, but do you think we can get him down?” she asked in a hushed voice.
Shit. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation. “How much did he say?”
She frowned at him and pulled him aside. “He started at two hundred. I can splurge at one fifty. I want to hang it in the hall when you walk into my place. What do you think?”
He wasn’t focusing, that was for sure. “Not too bad,” he said, thinking off the top of his head.
He turned back toward Nicole’s booth only to find she was gone. A look at where the men were standing told him they’d disappeared as well.
With a muttered curse, he grasped Macy’s shoulders in both hands. “I have an emergency. Don’t do anything until I get back.”
Her gaze shot from him to where Nicole had been, and the light in her eyes dimmed. “Sure. Go on.”
Heart in his throat, he left Macy and went in search of Nicole.