Cooking Up Romance (The Taylor Triplets Book 1) Read online

  Usually, when one of his guys was injured, they had no qualms about going on disability, but maybe because Ben was an independent type, or maybe it had something to do with being Native American and not wanting to be beholden to the US government. There were a dozen other possibilities, but the bottom line was that he’d refused. Zack worried losing the index finger might interfere with Ben’s ability to work on fine detail, but he’d go out of his way to help him out with rehab. That is, if he could get Ben to agree.

  He pushed back in the chair behind his office desk, put his hands behind his head and gave himself permission to think about something nicer than running a company. Lacy came to mind immediately. He smiled thinking how much he’d liked seeing her there with Emma last night. How coming home to a woman had once been one of the great pleasures of his days, especially after having a child. Until it wasn’t with Mona, when more often than not, she wasn’t around when he got home, and Emma had been left with Mrs. Worthington.

  He shook his head to put the bad memories aside, not wanting them to spill over onto Lacy. Instead he gave himself permission to think how much more than kissing Lacy goodbye he’d wanted to do last night. Even though tired and hungry, the sight of her had shot him full of energy. The ensuing smile was slow but soon consumed his face.

  She was different than Mona—he knew it. She had to be. Because he’d never again put himself through what he’d experienced with his ex.

  * * *

  Wednesday evening Lacy showed up early, before Zack was home, fetching Emma from next door with her after-school guardian, Mrs. Worthington. Being alone with Emma again drove another point home about Lacy’s changing outlook. I’m getting as attached to her as she is to me. It’s already too late to avoid being hurt if things don’t work out with Zack. Too late for both of us. All three?

  Her stomach sank as she put the ingredients for a healthy chicken piccata on the counter with Emma eagerly looking on.

  “So I thought using half zucchini noodles, or zoodles as we call them, instead of all pasta would be a good compromise on sneaking in veggies. What do you think?”

  “Great, maybe I won’t even know I’m eating that green stuff,” Emma said as enthusiastically as ever, even when she didn’t like something. Which always put a smile on Lacy’s face and tugged at her heart. The same heart that’d had enough aching for a lifetime.

  “Lacy? Next time you shop at a regular store, can I go with you?” Emma said. After closely observing everything Lacy had unpacked, Emma had asked how each item would be used in their dish. Lacy had explained in simple terms the answer to each of her questions, until this one. To be honest, the question made her stumble. Shopping struck Lacy as something families did together. Not like the other day when Emma had tagged along at the big-box store for food truck necessities. This was different and so much closer to home.

  Grocery shopping was meant for families. Like Zack and Emma.

  But Lacy could see the purpose of learning to shop along with cooking lessons. She’d think of it like that—not as a family outing, but a necessary function of learning to cook. “That would be fun, too. I’ll even let you write out the list when we talk about what we want to cook and what we’ll need to shop for.”

  Emma’s eyes brightened. “That’s what I want to learn next. How to shop. Dad doesn’t like to, and sometimes he just grabs stuff, and nothing matches up. Or he forgets stuff.”

  “We all do sometimes.” Lacy could easily imagine Zack at the supermarket going through the motions of stocking the pantry back home. Her heart twanged in a good way, again, causing another mental caution flag to raise. I’m falling for him and I’m not sure I can handle it. She did her best to ignore it so Emma wouldn’t catch on to her mood shift and badger her with more questions.

  Later, with Zack arriving home while Lacy and Emma fixed dinner, things seemed far too domestic. And too close to a buried dream she’d once entertained—getting married, raising a family. Since having that nightmare, along with the addition of looking through the new I lose what I love lens, Zack’s arrival seemed almost cruel in how good it felt. His subtle, possessive touches to her arm and lower back were hard enough to take as they moved around the kitchen preparing the meal and setting the table. But the romantic light glide of his knuckles along her cheek when she announced dinner was ready, while he serenely smiled at her, nearly had her running out the front door as if her hair had been set on fire. Obviously, that wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.

  His very presence did magical stuff to her body, moved her in ways she’d given up hoping for. Truth was, she’d stopped wanting those things that scared her because, well, her track record didn’t bode well for the future.

  After the dinner cleanup, Emma helped Lacy learn some basic knit one purl two stitches while Zack puttered around in the garage. So domestic. Too domestic?

  “Will you put me to bed tonight?” Emma asked Lacy when Zack came back inside breaking the news about the time. Uh-oh.

  “Is there some kind of routine I need to know?” Lacy asked Zack, hoping he wouldn’t mind her taking his job.

  “Oh, she’ll fill you in on that part.” His eyes looked deeply content. It was clear that she wasn’t stepping on his territory, because he seemed happy to share the duty. But they were all three tiptoeing into new and possibly sacred territory. The point hadn’t gone unnoticed by all three of them, from the respectful mood in the family room.

  Emma giggled. “Come on!”

  Lacy followed her little friend down to an overwhelmingly pink accented bedroom, seeing firsthand that Zack could indeed be an overindulgent father. The juxtaposition with the strong contractor made her smile.

  “This is my bed, isn’t it pretty?”

  The off-white finished wood frame was perfect for a little princess. “Did your mom decorate the room for you?” Lacy knew it was a touchy subject, but curiosity had won out.

  “Nope. Dad did, I think last year,” Emma said as she undressed to her panties, dropped her clothes on the floor and left them where they fell, then rummaged through her dresser—the same off-white finish as the bed and as tall as Emma—for her pajamas. The child was completely uninhibited around Lacy.

  Zack had taken great care with this room and, like all things Zack and Emma, it touched Lacy in the most tender part of her heart. Before she let emotions take over, she acted. “Oh, hey, now would be a good time to put on that mentholated rub.” She’d brought the jar along when Emma invited her to tuck her in.

  Emma put her legs through the pj’s bottoms, then sat on the bed. “Okay.”

  Then Emma allowed Lacy to put the rub on her narrow chest. “We’ll wait until after you brush your teeth for the next part,” she said when done.

  Emma put her pj’s top on and went to the bathroom to do her routine. Lacy deduced she was old enough to wash her face and brush her teeth herself. While waiting, Lacy picked up the forgotten clothes on the floor, then pulled back the covers. Surprise! The sheets were a neon-pink pattern against a white background. Lacy shook her head and smiled. Zack.

  Back in a flash with her hair wild and loose, Emma jumped onto her bed. Then Lacy put an index-finger’s worth of the wonder balm under Emma’s upturned and whistling nose, like an invisible mustache.

  “Thanks,” Emma said, making a funny face. “It smells weird.”

  “I know, but it should help you breathe better.”

  As always, Emma was more than happy to take any advice Lacy dished out.

  “You know what my mother used to do when I was around your age?”

  Lacy shook her head, some of the wild dark brown hair sticking to her gooey mustache.

  “She used to brush my hair before I went to bed,” Lacy said, removing the few long strands from under Emma’s nose. “Would you like me to do that?”

  Her head nodded, eyes bright. “My brush is in the bathroom.”

>   Lacy quickly retrieved the brush, full of long hairs, and manually pulled them out as she walked back to the bed. “If you want, I can wash this brush before I leave tonight so it will be fresh for you tomorrow?”

  “Okay.”

  Emma sat perfectly still as Lacy gently brushed her hair, careful not to tug any knots. The silence said it all. It was a good idea. Another popped into her head.

  “Maybe sometime you’d let me try French braiding or fishtail braiding your hair?”

  As expected, Emma’s shoulders shot up in an excited way. “That’d be so cool!”

  “Okay, then. It’s a plan.” A couple minutes later, with Emma’s hair looking beautifully smooth, Lacy put the brush in her lap to take with her.

  “I’m gonna pray,” Emma announced.

  “Okay.” She sure hadn’t seen that coming.

  Emma steepled her fingers and squinted her eyes tight. “Thank you for my dad, for taking care of me. Please keep him safe.”

  Amen, Lacy thought.

  “And thank you for Lacy. She’s helping me learn to cook, and I really like her. Please make her happy.”

  Did the kid sense her emotional battle?

  “Amen.”

  “That was a lovely prayer. Thank you for including me.”

  “I always do.”

  “You do?”

  Emma nodded, then leaned back and put her head on the pillow. “Since you started giving me cooking lessons.”

  “Well, I’m honored. Thanks.” Lacy had the urge to lean over and kiss her but fought it. “Good night, Emma,” she said, instead.

  After turning out the light, just when she was about to close the door, Emma piped up. “You can call me Shortcake if you want.”

  Lacy chuckled. “I think that’s your dad’s special name for you. Maybe he should be the only one to use it?”

  Emma sighed. “I think I can breathe better.” Her busy brain already on to a new subject.

  “That’s great.” She shut the door, brush in hand, and went straight for the kitchen.

  Putting Emma to bed had been far too alluring and domestic. Definitely out of her comfort zone. Saying good-night to her little friend reminded her how much she loved being in the Gardner home, how she could see herself there on a regular basis. Again, cautious shivers warned her not to go there in thoughts or wishes. Probably not in her future. And it wasn’t safe. For her or them.

  The garage door, which was connected to part of the kitchen, was askew, and she heard Zack working on something. After removing the built-up hair from the brush, she washed it with dish soap and laid it on the mat on the counter to dry. She took a glass from the cupboard, filled it with ice, then tea from the refrigerator, and headed to the garage.

  “Thought you might like something to drink?”

  He stopped sanding his project. “Thanks.”

  She carried it to him. “What’s this?”

  “A black walnut wall hanger for beside your front door. I’m going to put your address here—” he pointed to the front panel “—and you can put a small plant or two in this pocket area. Should look good at your house.”

  “I love it! Thank you.” She put his iced tea on the counter, and if his hands weren’t busy with tools and sandpaper, she would’ve hugged him.

  For some odd reason, she was glad she couldn’t. “Well, I’m going to let you work on that while I try to make heads or tails out of my latest dinner mat.”

  He smiled his reply and her heart overflowed with good feelings.

  And later with Zack in the living room, Lacy was helpless under his all-out assaulting charm, with hungry kisses and mutual groping on the couch. After living alone for so long, how could she not want the attention? Then, when the make-out session heated up to the boiling point, he surprised her.

  “Sorry to cut this short, but I don’t feel right having you stay over, or us making love with Emma in the house. It might confuse her,” he said.

  It hadn’t yet occurred to Lacy, while she was wrapped up in her own confusion, how Emma might or might not feel about her father moving on with another woman. She was so busy thinking of the reasons she should steer clear of Zack and all he offered, she’d conveniently forgotten how Emma’s feelings might factor in. Yet Emma had told her she wished she was her mother and had let Lacy brush her hair tonight. They’d even made plans for a hair-braiding session. Maybe having her father get involved with a new woman would be hard to understand, though. Maybe Emma thought only of Lacy as a friend, not a mother figure. Yet, she’d been the one to say it earlier tonight. “I would never want to make her feel uncomfortable.”

  As the heat in his gaze cooled, he gave a lopsided grin. “But Emma’s spending the night at her best friend’s house Saturday. Remember? Let me take you out for dinner and a movie and bring you back here, so we can pick up where we’re leaving off tonight.”

  Her mantra, You lose what you love, tried to edge its way in, but with her body in charge, and Zack having done a great job of warming her up, she selfishly pushed it aside. This guy had everything she wanted; she was tired of pushing people away and being lonely, and he was asking her out again. No way would she refuse.

  Only a fool would do that. Or maybe the foolish part was taking a step deeper into Zack and Emma’s lives.

  * * *

  Zack’s spell wore off Lacy a bit on Thursday at the Santa Barbara construction site, when he wasn’t around, and by Friday, though she saw him multiple times at the Little River Valley site and even served him lunch, Lacy didn’t know what to do about their date.

  You lose what you love. Her annoying mantra repeated over and over in her head, seeming to get louder every time she saw him.

  Stop it! She wanted to yell at the negative thoughts. Quit messing up my life. She was sick of being alone. All she had to do to avoid pain was to not fall in love with him, to just enjoy the moment. How hard was that?

  Evidently, a lot harder than she’d imagined.

  There Zack was, in front of her food truck grinning at her, and he hadn’t changed an iota. He stood looking handsome as ever, hard hat in tow, all manly and commanding. Her body certainly remembered him, reacting as it always did with random sparks and tingles in his presence. But she was unable to fight a parallel reaction. Her cautious mind was turning into an iron maiden, threatening certain torture if she pursued him further. This is your warning. My final warning?

  Then Ben, with his arm in a cast, approached Lacy’s truck, drawing Zack’s attention away, allowing her to breathe and regain her composure. Ben usually worked the Santa Barbara site, but since the accident he’d been working wherever his boss was. Zack pulled Ben aside to talk. As Lacy watched from across the yard, the men spoke quietly for a minute or two.

  After the conversation ended, Zack retreated to the office and Ben gave Lacy a funny glance when she took his order. The expression reminded her of the same kind of look the woman wearing that blue hat at the recent wedding had given.

  Chapter Nine

  Zack had the house to himself on Saturday and couldn’t wait to see Lacy again. He’d been thinking about being with her since last weekend, and especially since Wednesday night when they’d gotten worked up but with no place to go. It was his rule about not having Lacy stay over—since she was the first and only woman he’d been with after the divorce—so he couldn’t complain.

  He dressed for his date in anticipation of time spent with the one who had his full attention. Wearing his nicest pants, a slim-cut buttoned shirt and his least scuffed shoes, he made a mental note to buy a new pair soon, or at least get these professionally polished. Sliding behind the wheel of his car, he marveled over how quickly he’d gotten in over his head, already wanting more with her. For the first time since his divorce, he saw a future that not only involved his daughter, but a full-grown woman. Lacy.

  When he knocke
d on her door and she answered, something seemed off about her. Sure, she appeared to be happy to see him, and they kissed hello, but part of him sensed she was putting on an act. Not good. What had changed since Wednesday and why? Had it been because he’d cut things short the other night? Had he inadvertently insulted her in some way? Not wanting to throw a wrench into their date right off, he’d keep his thoughts and worries to himself for now.

  They had a perfectly nice dinner at another trendy restaurant, of which Little River Valley had many, but throughout he got the distinct impression she was holding back. Seeming not quite herself.

  When it came time to leave for the planned movie, Zack glanced across Main Street to two doors down, then made a snap decision. They needed to have some fun.

  “Want to blow off the movie and go there?”

  She glanced in the direction he pointed, at the flashing neon sign, and her eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious as that dessert we just devoured, but the real question is can you handle it?” He’d known Lacy long enough to figure she’d rise to a dare.

  Finally a spark of the old Lacy, the woman who’d been MIA tonight, showed up. “Is that a challenge?”

  That was what he loved about her. “Definitely.” What the hell was he doing? He was a horrible singer and would surely make a fool out of himself! Still, for the sake of fun, which they severely needed, he took her hand. They crossed the street heading for the local karaoke bar, which, given the sound on the street, was already in full swing.

  It was dark inside and too loud to talk, so they found a table and ordered a couple of beers. It was a mostly middle-aged crowd, and the choice of songs proved it. But that was what you got on a Saturday night in Little River Valley, since teens and young adults tended to migrate to Ventura or Santa Barbara for the bigger nightlife. Zack scrolled through the songs on tap.

  The host started out the next set with “Purple Rain,” the Prince classic, and everyone chimed in. From what Zack could hear, Lacy wasn’t half-bad. Then one after another, bad and good singers, since they had an all-singers-welcomed policy, made their way to the microphone. Some sang their hearts out while others laughed all the way through; some were terrific and others horrible. In other words, a typical night in karaoke land. Which gave Zack the nerve, but only after downing his entire beer.