Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (11 page)

“Dolly, what a lovely surprise. How are you? You’re looking well. Manhattan clearly agrees with you.”

I almost laughed out loud because she hadn’t been expecting that, had a retort on her tongue that she had to swallow.

“I’m fine, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“Are you just getting here? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee and catch up?” I’d rather have rats eat my face, but since I knew she’d like the idea even less, I enjoyed watching the expression that rolled over her face—like a deer in the headlights, blinking her fake lashes as her brain desperately tried to understand the dynamic. Why hadn’t I thought to do this before?

“Your father and I have dinner plans. I need to get home to get ready. Why are
you
so far from home?”

“I live here now. Well, not here but close to here. I got a job, pastry chef for a restaurant right here in Manhattan.”

“Pastry chef? For what restaurant?”

I hadn’t expected her to congratulate me and still it annoyed me that she hadn’t offered one. And because of her rudeness, I was rude in return by hesitating in answering her. The pink that infused her cheeks as her temper simmered was a joy to see. Right when she looked about ready to shout at me, I said, “Clover. Have you heard of it?” I had no doubt she’d heard of it, she probably kept a folder of all the hot and trendy places to see and be seen and demanded visiting those places frequently. My dad would hate that, but I felt no sympathy. He’d made his bed.

“You’re working at Clover?”

The genuine disbelief shouldn’t have grated—I knew it was coming—and yet it still did. “Why do you sound so surprised by that?”

“I just thought they’d want someone with a bit more…” she gestured to my overall appearance, the implication clear—a person with more style—before saying, “experience.”

Dolly Collins, previously Dolly Tucker, prior to meeting my dad was cutting hair at the local barber. What the hell did she know about style?

“Well, experience or not, Trace Montgomery adored my desserts. Offered me the job personally, even helped me with securing a place to live nearby.”

She didn’t believe me; I could see that very easily from her expression. Not that I cared.

“Really? And where are you living?”

“Riverdale in the Bronx.”

As far as zip codes went, mine totally kicked her zip codes ass and she knew it.

“Riverdale? That’s an exceedingly expensive neighborhood.”

“I know; you should see the place where I’m staying. Unbelievable. Well, this has been fun but like you said, you have to get home to dress for dinner and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. See you later. Give Dad my love.”

I turned my back on her and walked out, without my coffee, but the sight of her doing her impression of a guppy had my smile going from ear-to-ear.

Whenever I was conflicted, I baked and seeing Dolly had me feeling all kinds of things, so, as soon as I returned home, I whipped up some peanut butter cookies. But not your ordinary peanut butter cookies, I added a dash of curry; the smell was divine. If they tasted half as good as they smelled, I was in for a treat. The nerve of that woman, but what was worse was my dad being oblivious to her treatment of Nat and me or uninterested. As much as I wanted a relationship with him, he was making it very hard.

The sound of a powerful engine thankfully pulled me from my unpleasant thoughts and I walked to window to see as the sexiest black muscle car pulled into the drive—parking next to my buttercup-yellow station wagon. In the next minute, a man climbed from the car.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” My face was pressed up against the glass but honest to God, what was it with Rafe and his friends? It was like the fairy godmother that worked this area had gone overboard, hitting them a few extra times with her beauty wand. The newcomer shared a similar look with Rafe, though Rafe edged him out in my opinion. This man’s long hair was brown with hints of auburn and he too was built as if he was compiled from every woman’s wildest dream. And then Rafe appeared and it was almost too much male beauty for a mere mortal to take.

The man studied my car; I could see the look of disgust even from my distance. And then his face turned in the direction of the carriage house, and what a face. I ducked out of sight. And then I did something completely mental, I ran to the bedroom for my binoculars, at the same time I grabbed the house phone and called Nat.

“Hey little sis.”

“There’s another one.”

“What?”

“Trace and Rafe, there’s a third. He just pulled up in some sexy, black muscle car.”

“No way. Get a picture.”

“That’s a little hard with the binoculars in my hand.”

I heard the humor and the unspoken, I told you so. “You weren’t going to use them, huh?”

“What is it with the air here?” I said, not wishing to hear Nat gloating.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be able to put my impressive brain to the task of figuring it out if I had a picture to study.”

“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous. Hold on, let me get my cell.”

Retrieving my phone, I hunched down by the front window and managed a few shots. “I’m sending them. Looks like his car is a Charger, an old one.”

“Sweet baby Jesus, he’s delicious. Ah damn he’s wearing a wedding ring.”

“He is? I didn’t see that.”

“You’re right, it’s an anomaly, all that hotness in one place. Maybe you should move here and I’ll stay there, just in case it’s not safe.”

“I really can’t believe you operate on people’s brains when you haven’t one of your own.”

“I’m brainless? Have you made your move on your sexy landlord? Cause I got to tell you, Avery, if it were me, I’d have tapped that repeatedly by now.”

“I’ll repeat, since you clearly are hard of hearing, he’s seeing someone.”

“Whatever.”

Still hunching down at the front window, eying Rafe and the new guy through my high-powered binoculars, I nearly fell out of it when the timer for the cookies went off.

“What the hell was that?” Nat demanded in my ear.

“My cookies.”

Jumping up, I ran to the kitchen, placed the binoculars on the counter, shut off the timer and pulled the trays from the oven and placed them on the cooling racks.

“What kind of cookies?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Oh, I love your peanut butter cookies. I’d hop in my car, but I’ve got Mr. Daniels aneurysm in a few minutes.”

“Be nice and maybe I’ll overnight some to you.”

“You do love me”

“Yeah, I love you.”

“Send cookies and get Rafe naked and then I want details, leave nothing out.”

I hung up on her. The knock at the door startled me, followed quickly with nerves since I knew it was Rafe and the sexy new guy. Unconsciously I glanced down at my faded jeans and burgundy sweater, a step up from the sweats I usually wore but not by much.

With about as much enthusiasm as Loki usually demonstrated, I moved to the door and pulled it open. The force of the collective stare coming from impossibly hot men nearly had my legs going weak. Before I could say hi, Rafe’s friend inhaled, noticeably, before asking, “What is that?”

“Cookies. I just pulled some out.”

He then flashed me a grin, a panty-dropping grin. “I like cookies.”

I laughed, couldn’t help it, because what a clown-like thing to say especially coming from a man who looked as he did. Deciding I liked this friend of Rafe’s, I teased him.

“I don’t share my cookies with people I don’t know.”

He smiled again; this one was slower to form and was somehow even more spectacular than the last one. His hand reached for mine, his hold firm but gentle. “Lucien Black.”

“Avery Collins.”

“Delighted.”

“More with the smell of my cookies, but seeing as you have obvious taste, please come in.”

“You see right through me.” Lucien teased.

“Right now you’re about as transparent as glass, so not a great accomplishment.”

“Touché.”

“Hi, Rafe.” I couldn’t help the assessing stare I gave him, objectifying, absolutely, but the sight of him naked from the waist up, sweaty and sexy, was permanently burned on my brain, so much so that I was contemplating a new house rule. Some people had a no shoe policy; I think I was going to adopt the no shirt policy for sexy, hot men only. Sexist, sure, but it was my home. I was legally renting it, so I could be as sexist as I wanted. Glancing over at Lucien, yeah I think no shirts in this house were a must. I wondered if they’d be suspicious if I mentioned that policy now?

My gaze collided with Rafe’s when he asked, “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You look a little flushed.”

I probably had drool at the corner of my mouth too. Best to move the subject on, but Rafe beat me to it when he said, “I want whatever you just baked. It smells incredible.”

Entering the kitchen, Lucien asked, “Peanut butter?”

“With a secret ingredient. Try to guess what.”

Both Rafe and Lucien took a cookie, my eyes darting between the two for their reactions and seeing the look that moved over Rafe’s face, one I often experienced when tasting something so good words failed to do it justice, I felt almost giddy. And then he said, “These are incredible.”

“Understatement.” Lucien said and then added, “Curry.”

“That’s right. Peanuts can be both sweet and savory, so I thought adding a bit of savory to the sweetness of the cookie would add another dimension.”

“It’s fantastic.” This came from Rafe. “Is this a recipe for Clover?”

“No, patrons of Clover expect something more sophisticated than a cookie. I was just experimenting.”

“And you didn’t come find me?” He said that as his lips turned up on the one side. He was teasing me, I really liked that he was teasing me.

“I just pulled them from the oven. I’d have hunted you down.”

“What were you doing with the binoculars?” Lucien asked.

How the hell did I answer that?
I
was spying and drooling at you two, wishing I were the meat to your hot, messy sandwich.
The lie slipped easily past my lips. “Bird watching, just watching those birds. There are some really rare species around here.”

Lucien leaned up against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. I could not, for the life of me, discern his expression. “Are you into bird watching?”

No, I mean outside of an
Ah
when I see the brilliant red of a cardinal I wouldn’t know the various species of birds indigenous to the area let alone rare breeds. But I had already placed my foot in my mouth, so I had to tally on. “Yeah, a little. Just a way to pass the time.”

“What species have you seen?”

Narrowing my eyes at Lucien, he actually narrowed his in return. Son of a bitch knew I was talking out of my ass. I could have done the mature thing, fessed up and moved on. I, apparently, was not mature. Game on. “I saw an eagle just the other day. Big, ass bird.”

An arched brow from Lucien met that answer. Rafe sounded odd, maybe concerned for Loki when he asked, “An eagle, really?”

“It was probably just a hawk, I’m not used to seeing large birds of prey like that.”

Lucien shifted and now he was grinning. “Aren’t you from rural Pennsylvania?”

It was true that we had lots of hawks and turkey vultures back home, but how the hell would he know that? Rafe, seeming to have had enough of the conversation, changed the subject. Thank God. “Your first day is coming up. Are you ready?”

“I go back and forth between absolutely ready and not even close.”

A smile was his only reply and if Lucien’s smile was panty dropping, Rafe’s was bone melting.

Rafe headed for the door, Lucien held back until Rafe was out of earshot. “You’re a terrible liar, but a hell of a baker.”

I
was now as red as a cardinal.

“I have to give you credit though, you’re tenacious, digging yourself deeper and deeper but doing so with attitude.”

Did he just say that to me? “You are not acting in a manner that will garner you any more of my baked goods.”

“You’re right, I’ll behave.”

Lucien followed Rafe from the kitchen as I asked, “Are you this candid with everyone you meet?”

“No, only the ones I like.”

Reaching the door, I held it for Rafe and Lucien who said, “Nice to meet you, Avery. I look forward to the next time.”

“You and me both.”

“Later, Avery.” Rafe said before following after Lucien. Closing the door, I pressed my forehead up against it, but I was smiling one of Nat’s deranged smiles.

My phone rang pulling me from my ridiculousness. Seeing it was Jessica, I answered, “Hey you.”

“How does December 16-19 work for a visit?”

“Once I get my work schedule, I’ll try to get those dates off.”

“We’ll check out hotels close to you.”

“Sounds good. So get this, Rafe and his friend Lucien were just here and I have to say they make the people out here entirely too sexy.”

“What do you mean?”

For the next half an hour I told her about that over-eager fairy godmother.