Sex and Key Lime Pie (8 page)

“You’ll stay with me,” both Elisabeth and Isabelle said in unison.

Cheyanne’s heart was warmed by the offers. She couldn’t accept, but it felt nice to be wanted. “I appreciate that. But I’m not looking to strain anyone’s family relations. I rented a cottage in the Cove, off Shore Avenue. It’s close enough to the wharf for Sam to go fishing or swimming.”

“And walking distance to me,” Isabelle said happily. “So tell us about him.”

“He’s almost the same age as Alicia, but he’s a heck of a lot taller. He plays soccer and Tae Kwon Do. And he has a pet monkey. Don’t get me started on that subject. He’s usually quiet and always serious. Too serious, I think. I was hoping some time at the beach would help him open up a little.”

“It should be an interesting summer when Luc finds out,” Elisabeth said

“I really considered taking a place in another town for just that reason, but Sam spent most of his childhood around strangers. I want him to have time around people he could get to know.”

“You’ll be moving to California after the summer,” Elisabeth reminded her.

“But we’ll have summers off and his grandmother will be here. Only don’t let Rita hear you call her a grandmother. She’s still not used to it.”

“After eight years?” Isabelle asked.

Cheyanne’s eyes filled with moisture and she blinked hard. “I didn’t tell her about Sam until I returned from Europe. I was so angry with her. I thought she was the one who told Harlan about Luc and me even though she swore it wasn’t her. Hell, I wasn’t just mad at her, either. I was mad at the world.” She lived with quite a few regrets. Her estrangement with her mother was one of those.

“Especially Luc,” Isabelle mumbled.

Cheyanne took a sip of her beer. “That’s the really sad part. I blamed everyone, including myself, but I never blamed him. When I lost him, I didn’t care about anything.”

“Is that when you met your husband?” Elisabeth asked.

“I already knew Pierre from a cooking class I took in Boston. But he was the one who kept me from going off the deep end.”

“Then you fell in love and he asked you to marry him,” Elisabeth said.

“It wasn’t quite that romantic. Pierre wanted U.S. residency and I wanted to live abroad.”

“Why would you want that?”

“I needed to get away from everything that made me unhappy.” Cheyanne paused for a calming breath. “It took me a long time to realize I was making myself unhappy so only I could end it. Going to culinary school gave me back my confidence and having Sam gave me back my life.”

Elisabeth munched on a carrot stick. “It sounds so exciting. Traveling around the world. It must have been a great education for your son.”

Cheyanne had told herself that same lie for too many years. She’d mistaken the gypsy lifestyle of hotel workers with really being part of an extended family. Separated from the guests, they formed their own bonded communities. With everyone she had cared about lost to her, she’d needed the support network.

But Pierre’s death had been a wake-up call. Her coworkers were not family. Sam would have no one he knew or cared about if something happened to her. She would not leave her son to be raised by a pack of strangers with a bank as his trustee.

“Travel is exciting, but not a way of life for a kid. I tried to settle in Boston, but restaurant work is all nights and weekends, unless you have a dream place like yours, Isabelle.”

“But California? Couldn’t you have found something closer?”

“Not from lack of trying.” Having just reestablished a tentative relationship with her mother, she had hoped to find something on the east coast.

“Well, now you have the summer to work on it,” Elisabeth said. “You know, Luc has a lot of business contacts...”

Both Cheyanne and Isabelle laughed.

“What?”

“I don’t picture Luc doing all he can to help me stay here.” And she wouldn’t ask him either. In fact, she dreaded the day he would learn about her child. However, if Luc couldn’t accept Sam as a part of her life he would never accept his son as part of his life. “And if you both don’t mind, I want to be the one that tells him about Sam.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Isabelle promised.

Cheyanne bet that neither of her friends wanted to be the bearer of that piece of news. “Enough about me. I want to hear Lizzy’s great love story. When did you stop running away from Miguel and start running into his arms?”

“Hey, my cousin is a teddy bear,” Isabelle complained.

“Who used to have the personality of a grizzly bear,” Cheyanne added with a soft giggle.

Elisabeth’s smile reflected the depth of her love and admiration for her husband. “He became a different person after they got the loan and bought the factory. It was amazing. He celebrates Morris’s birthday as if it was a national holiday.”

Then Harlan’s legacy was not wasted, Cheyanne thought. Although he was probably spinning in his grave.

The evening passed in fits of happiness, punctuated by bouts of tears. Tears for all they’d lost and happiness for what they found again. Cheyanne even listened to stories about Luc without sorrow or guilt. He chose to make a life without her. He hadn’t offered her a choice. Unfinished business? She would stick with her original opinion. It was bad history. And people who forgot their history were condemned to repeat it.

****

Luc pulled into the driveway behind Miguel. He had volunteered to pick up his sister to save Tony a trip. His brother-in-law had also committed to driving Cheyanne back to the Heights in case the women overindulged. A commitment he took on as well. After all, Luc also lived in the Heights, so why not make one trip?

He jumped from the truck. Music blared from the open windows accompanying the most off-key rendition of Madonna’s Material Girl he’d ever had the misfortune to hear. “You’re lucky you don’t have neighbors close by to call the police. They’re murdering that song.”

“You can say that again,” Miguel agreed.

When they walked inside, they were treated to a performance of Elisabeth and Cheyanne doing an accompanying dance. What they lacked in voice talent they more than made up for in sensual movements. Two tight asses wiggled in synchronized time. One, clad in spandex leggings held his particular interest. She might as well have given him a lap-dance the way his body reacted. If that was an invitation, someone tell him where to RSVP.

Isabelle, the first to notice the men, hit the off button on the CD player. The look of dread on her face warned the others to a problem. “Hi Miguel. Luc.”

“Oh, shit,” Cheyanne muttered. She turned around with a wide sweep of her arms. Tousled blonde hair framed her face. She met his heated gaze with a small, triumphant smile. She knew exactly what her little display had done to him. “Why am I not surprised you’re here?”

Luc grinned. “Well, hell, sweetheart, if that’s how you welcome me, I am truly touched.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you think that was a welcome, then you are touched. In the head.”

“This is pleasant,” Elisabeth said. “At least they’re talking to each other.”

They were doing a lot less talking but some heavy communicating a few days earlier. He thought better of pointing that out in front of the others.

“How about one more beer for the road?” Elisabeth offered.

Luc intercepted the bottle that passed between the two women. “Looks like you’ve had enough.”

“Looks are deceiving. We’ve been drinking non-alcoholic beer all night.” Cheyanne pointed to the label. “So you don’t have to worry about me driving myself home.”

“Except you don’t have a car tonight.”

Her cheeks blushed. “Oh, right.”

“I always am.”

“Jesus Luc, that was heartwarming. You sure know how to charm the ladies.” Elisabeth griped.

And after seeing Cheyanne dance, he would bet she knew how to charm the men. The trouble arose when they tried to charm each other. “Are you ready to go?”

“I guess,” Cheyanne said.

I guess translated into fifteen minutes of good byes and plans to go shopping. Then he had to sit through another ten minutes of farewells and more plans before his sister returned safely to her house. Finally, he had Cheyanne alone.

“It’s just you and me.”

She leaned against the passenger door. As far away from him as she could get in the confines of the truck cab. “Soon it will be just you.”

He shifted the vehicle into reverse and maneuvered out of the driveway. “I thought we were going to stop playing games.”

“I’m not playing a game.”

The hell she wasn’t. He’d waited all damn weekend for her to return. Then her first night back, she skipped out the door before he got a chance to talk to her. If Miguel hadn’t shown up at his house, Luc wouldn’t have known where to find her. “You knew I would be stopping by today.”

She tipped her head to the side. “How would I know that, Luc? Did we have a date?”

“I thought we had an understanding.”

“An understanding that you’d see me when I got back, but no plans. I’m not in town for your personal amusement.”

No, she was in town for his personal torture. “I never said you were.”

“Then don’t be ticked off because I wasn’t sitting at home waiting for you.”

Round one to his opponent. Cheyanne planned to make a real match of things. In the past, he only had to look in her direction and she would have followed him anywhere. A challenge would make the win that much more satisfying.

Chapter
Six

Cheyanne folded her arms across her chest to stave off the night chill as she walked toward the house. She felt Luc’s gaze on her as he followed. He had a knack for turning up where she least expected him. At least he didn’t appear out of the shadows this time. However, his assumption that he could show up whenever he wanted had to end. The days of her jumping at his command were long gone.

A relationship took two people. A one-sided affair, where she did all the giving and he did all the taking, would leave her in worse shape than the last time. As much as she still held deep feelings for him, she couldn’t afford to fall apart again. Until she saw some sign that he wanted more than a straight sexual affair, she had to guard her heart.

On the front landing, she offered her hand. “Thanks for the ride.”

He arched his eyebrow. “A handshake instead of a kiss. Is it my breath?”

Why did he have to be funny? He was supposed to be arrogant and serious so she could remain defensive and cautious.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a bad time of the month. I doubt you’d want to stay.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

She shook her head. “Aside from an appalling lack of sex tonight, you’ll find an appalling lack of furniture in the house.”

“So we can sit on the floor and talk. I’m surprised at you, Cheyanne. Not every encounter has to end in bed.”

Wit, and now a genuine stab at sensitivity. Why couldn’t he do the expected and leave? When he pulled a U-turn like this, she felt off balance. Especially when he stood so close. His fingers splayed across her back and inched her even closer as he nuzzled his chin along the side of her neck.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t you dare leave another hickey on me.”

Onyx eyes sparked with humor. “You could have a matching set.”

“No thanks. If you’re that hungry for blood, I have some raw meat in the refrigerator.”

“I don’t suppose you could offer a piece of key lime pie instead?”

Of course she could, because fool that she was, she had made a pie that afternoon. She’d even thought to make dinner for him, but he never bothered to contact her. So when Elisabeth invited her over, she accepted. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see if there’s any left.”

“There is. I didn’t eat it all,”

Her eyes widened incredulously. “You were here?”

“Yeah. Your car was here. I figured you were expecting me.”

“So you walked right in and made yourself at home as if you owned the place?” Had she actually been crediting him with sensitivity? How many times would she set herself up before she learned? “Newsflash, Luc. You don’t own it yet. It’s still my home, and right now I’d appreciate it if you would leave.”

“May I explain first?”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Her ice-cold glare had no effect on him.

“Well, you’re going to.” He opened the unlocked door and gently pushed her inside.

She tried to walk away, but he kept a tight grip on her wrist, and she ended up pulling him into the kitchen behind her. There were no chairs, so he lifted her onto the counter and shifted himself between her legs before she could escape. The intimate positioning elevated her pulse rate accordingly.

“First of all, I did not walk into the house because I thought I had every right. Your car was here. You didn’t answer. Since you never lock the damn doors I thought something might have happened to you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and rested his hand against the side of her face.