Authors: Lauren Dane
accommodate everyone’s schedule.
More than just a woman who
loved to cook who made dinner for
her
friends,
Mary
had
turned
Delicious into a hot secret everyone
knew. And everyone wanted in. So
much so that people paid a yearly fee
for supplies and they’d be invited at
random to a certain number of
dinners or afternoon events.
Their
friends,
the
core
of
Delicious, were always on the guest
list. But for everyone else, it was an
event to get their number called to
attend a dinner.
“Yeah, probably. She’s not one for
coy, our Gillian. But this guy is good
for her. He’s been on her to set a date
for the last two months. I can’t
imagine she’s going to be able to
hold out much longer. Especially
now that the renovations on their new
house are in full swing.”
“Been a long time for her. I’m
happy. Gillian deserves her happily
ever after. And it’ll be a great job for
you too.” She tipped her glass of
cider in Mary’s direction.
“He might want some big wedding
with a crack catering staff instead of
his new wife’s friends.”
Daisy snorted. “Yes, I’m sure.
After one look at Adrian and his
family you can totally tell they care
about the thread count of the napkins
and your china pattern.”
A joke of course, as Adrian and
his sister, also a rock star, had
multiple tats and his brother ran a
tattoo shop. Their friends were a
wild assortment of awesome jobs,
hair colors and wild backgrounds.
Above all they were down-to-earth.
They fit with Gillian’s friends
perfectly.
“I just want her to be happy.”
“Of course you do. Jules will
make the cake and you will make the
food. That’s Delicious.”
It had been Daisy who gave the
name Delicious not only to the
weekly gatherings but also to her
group of friends, the sexiest, funniest,
most awesome women she knew.
Women who were always there for
each other. Whether it was to kick
someone’s
ass to
make
them
straighten up, or to defend and
protect. They were part of her family.
They were delicious in every way
and it pleased her that it had stuck.
Daisy waved a hand at all the
food. “This is awesome. More cumin
in the meatballs maybe?”
“I was thinking the same thing.
Maybe the sauce needs a tweak
instead? What do you think of the
cheese straws? Those I just made up
a batch for because I know your
grandma
loves
them
and
she
promised me some jam if I made her
some.”
Daisy laughed. “She’s greedy for
your treats.” She bit into one of the
lighter-than-air straws. “So good. Oh
what’d you add?”
“I used a new kind of cheese. It
had black peppercorns in it. I’m
going to premiere them at dinner.
How was your day?”
“I finished a new piece. Want to
see?”
Mary jumped up eagerly. “I can’t
believe you need to ask.”
Other than her grandmother, Mary
was always the first person she
showed her new work to. Daisy
knew she’d tell the truth.
They went through the small house
to the studio out back. Daisy and her
grandmother shared the space, a
garage converted to a workspace for
her grandmother and then when the
time came, they added a kiln and
space for Daisy’s mixed media work
as she’d begun to truly explore art
professionally.
Suddenly nervous, she stopped
Mary at the door. “Okay so this is
something a little new for me.”
Mary took her hands. “Hush you.
Let me see it.”
Daisy pushed the doors open and
pointed. Mary took a few steps and
halted, sucking in a breath as she took
it in. “Wow. This is…wow.”
Crimson and vivid green mosaic
created the outline of a woman’s
body. Paper and pen and ink gave her
more detail. Her arms arched above
her head, wrists bound.
“Good wow?”
Mary turned. “Yes. Really good
wow. Daze, this is crazy good. Hot.
Gorgeous. I love it.”
She grinned and hugged Mary tight.
“Thank you. I don’t know. It’s not my
usual thing but it…it just came out of
me.”
“When the others see this, there
will be a fight to see who gets to buy
it. I’d try to snag it now but then
everyone
would
whine.”
Mary
winked.
“I really do need to have more
buyers than you guys. Not that I don’t
appreciate it and all.”
Mary laughed. “Girl, you think we
pity-buy your art? One of these days
the stuff we snagged at a bargain will
be worth enough to get our kids
through college. We’re smart. And
lucky to have such a talented friend.”
Pride warmed Daisy. She was
lucky in her friends. “You’re
fabulous. I’m going to enter it for art
walk.”
“Oh! Such a great idea. If they turn
you down, they’re idiots.”
Art walk had started as an
informal thing some local artists had
started five years before and now it
was a regular event. Each quarter
they had a themed one with specially
chosen pieces on display in front
windows all over town. Daisy had
been dreaming about her work being
in one of those windows ever since.
She’d
grown
up
in
her
grandmother’s shadow. Which was
overwhelmingly a blessing. She’d
had a great example to follow.
Wonderful advice. A teacher, a
critique partner at times. Her biggest
cheerleader and also her harshest
taskmaster.
But sometimes people seemed to
believe she was only doing well
because her grandmother opened
doors for her. They took one look at
Daisy, noted her age and wrote her
off.
She wanted her successes to be
something she made on her own. She
appreciated her grandmother’s help
and advice a great deal. Never felt a
need to apologize for it. But she
craved independence in so many
ways, having people take her
seriously for her work was one of her
ultimate goals.
Levi wandered through the store.
Dumb to go grocery shopping when
he was hungry, he knew. But he’d
been in one meeting or hearing after
the next and his fridge was bare. He
avoided the frozen aisle, saving it for
last when he wouldn’t fall on the
jumbo boxes of popsicles like a
starving man. Or maybe he would. At
least he didn’t have to cook
popsicles.
The last week had left him a little
ragged. Familial obligations right and
left. A luncheon for his mother’s pet
project—a program to provide pro
bono legal services for survivors of
family violence. There had been
many just a decade before, but
continued cuts to social programs had
devastated most and left the very few
limping along on triage with long
wait lists for women who didn’t have
the time to wait.
And then more wedding stuff for
Mal. Dinners and fittings. Silly things
he could have done on his own but
for whatever reason Gwen made into
one event after the next.
The
thought
of
his
brother
kowtowing to the woman for the rest
of his life made Levi tired. Malachi
was smarter than this usually. She
was a beautiful woman, but there
were other beautiful women out
there. She was shallow and petty.
Their mother despised Gwen, which
might be part of her appeal to Mal.
All in all, dealing with any of the
wedding stuff took a few stiff drinks
and cotton in his ears to drown it all
out.
Work of course. His uncle was
nearing retirement. He had no kids of
his own so the work was being split
between Levi and his oldest brother
Jonah. He’d been part of several
different
meetings
with
myriad
clients to introduce himself and begin
that handoff.
It was Friday night and he planned
to make some soup and a sandwich
and watch
Doctor Who
on the DVR
while he polished off a few beers.
And then he planned to sleep until at
least ten the next morning.
A fine plan.
The produce section loomed to the
left. Yes, apples and some bananas
for smoothies. He grabbed them by
rote.
Then he stopped dead in his tracks
to admire.
A woman in formfitting yoga pants
was bent at the waist, peering at
something. She also had on a scoop-
necked T-shirt and bent the way she
was, her tits mounded up at the top of
the shirt as he could also see the edge
of her bra. It wasn’t as if he was a
pervert, but a woman with that much
lush beauty on display wasn’t
something he’d feel bad looking at.
Her eyes were closed as she held
a piece of fruit to her nose and
breathed it in. Her nails were done a
shiny red and then he realized who it
was when she opened her eyes and
her gaze locked on his as she
straightened and stood.
“Hello, Levi.” She put the fruit in a
brown paper bag and tucked it into
her basket.
“Daisy.”
They stood close, just staring at the
other.
Goddamn
, she was hot. In the
dress she’d worn in the dance class
the week before she’d been sexy and
retro. But formfitting worked for her
just as well.
“Like a bad penny.”
He had to tear his attention from
her breasts to figure out what she’d
said. “What?”
“You keep turning up. Like a bad
penny. Have you never heard the
saying?” She cocked her head and he
flushed at the long expanse of her
neck, wanting to touch.
“How old are you?” He actually
blurted this and then was horrified.
Her head tipped then, her hair
falling back as she laughed.
“God, that was rude. I’m sorry. It’s
just…” He licked his lips. What the
hell did he think he was doing?
“I’ll answer your question. On one
condition.”
He stepped a little closer because
he wanted to so badly. “And that is?”
“I’ll only answer if you’re
attempting to ascertain my age
because you’re going to ask me to
dinner or drinks.”
He liked how bold she was. Liked
the way she flirted.
“But not otherwise?”
Her smile brought out her dimples.
She shook her head slowly.
“Otherwise it’s not your business.”
“All right. Point taken. How old
are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
Christ. Twenty-four? She was
nearly twenty years younger than he
was. He needed to turn around and
walk away. And yet he continued to
stand
there.
This
couldn’t
go
anywhere. She was too young. Too
everything.
And damn if he didn’t want a taste.
Damn if he didn’t want to see if that
submission
she
showed
while
dancing with him could extend into
other parts of her life.
“And so?” She blinked up at him
with a challenge.
He was about to say no thanks, or
still trying to talk himself into saying
it when he said, “Can you cook? I
can’t except for sandwiches.” He
sighed. “What I mean is, I’m starving
but I’ve eaten out for the last week
except for a family dinner over the
weekend. I’d like home cooking but
the best I can offer you is soup and
grilled cheese. If you cooked well,
I’d prefer that.”
She laughed again. “I’m not the
best cook in the world. But lucky for
you, my friend is one of those
talented cooks and she brought me a