Just a Taste (16 page)

Of course in that scenario, he couldn't imagine what other job either of them would have. That was the crux of the problem. They both had a lot to figure out.

“I can understand,” Jimmy said. “I'll try to keep Moira off your back.”

“As much as I'd enjoy that, I doubt you'll be successful.”

“Little do you know. I've been successful for months. She was talking about
helping
you with your love life last summer.”

Liam scrubbed the pot his mother used for mashed potatoes. It was one of those hand-me-down pieces that had been in the family forever. He couldn't remember his mom ever using anything else when it was time for potatoes. He wondered if he would have a similar piece in his kitchen.

“Hey, while we're alone . . .” Jimmy's voice was barely audible. He looked over his shoulder to watch the door. “I need your help.”

“Anything.”

“I plan to buy Moira a ring for Christmas. I don't think she has any idea, since we haven't talked about it, but that also means she's never mentioned what the hell kind she likes.”

Liam pulled his hands from the soapy water and slapped his friend on the back, leaving a trail of suds and murky drops. “Congrats.”

“Shh. That woman has ears like a dog.” He stole another look at the door. “I need you to help me pick one out.”

“Have you thought about how you're going to ask?”

“Yeah. I've got that covered.”

Just then, Quinn reentered the room, eyeing them both. “I'm here to grab dessert. Moira said it's in the refrigerator.”

Jimmy opened the fridge door. “We grabbed pastries from Blackstone this morning.” He handed her the box, the string already broken.

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

“Talk to Colin. He snagged something before we hit the kitchen.”

“Hurry with the dishes or there'll be nothing left.” She walked back to the dining room with the bakery box.

Liam drained the sink. “Tomorrow's my first day on the truck. I don't know what to expect or what the rest of my week will look like, so I'll give you a call and we'll figure a time to get together.”

He dried his hands on a towel as his phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from Lily.

 

 

“Your hot partner calling already?”

“No, it's Lily. She wants me to stop by.”

“Lily?”

“She's a friend.”

“Hmm-mm. Better not let Carmen hear.”

“Carmen knows.”

“Tread carefully, man.” Jimmy draped his wet towel along the counter.

“What's that supposed to mean? Lily's a friend. We met at Ryan's wedding. We hang out and cook together sometimes. You're friends with Gabby. Moira's okay with that, right?”

“Yeah, but Gabby's my partner. Moira has seen us together. Besides, no one does to me what Moira does.”

“Dude, that's my sister you're talking about. I don't want to hear it.” Jimmy chuckled. “Yeah, I guess those days are gone.”

Liam checked the time. “I need to get going. I'll call you in a couple of days.”

CHAPTER 9

C
armen stood over the stove with her dad's stockpot waiting for ingredients. She'd watched her dad do this for years. She knew how, but she'd never put in the effort to really do it. She closed her eyes and envisioned her dad. He talked through the process every time, as if he needed the words to get it right. She knew now that he did it to share with her even though she wasn't ready to hear it.

With a deep, fortifying breath, she went to the refrigerator, now fully stocked for at least the day, and pulled what she needed. When a knock sounded at the back door, she checked the time. She wasn't expecting Liam for a couple of hours. She looked out the window to see Rosa waving her arms. The girl never wore a coat and then bitched that she was cold.

“What took so long? I knew you were home, but you didn't answer at the front.”

“I didn't hear you. I'm busy.”

Rosa stopped her foot-stomping and the rubbing of her arms for warmth. “You're cooking?”

Rosa knew about Carmen's aversion to cooking. “Liam's taking the truck out tomorrow. As good of a cook as he is, he knows nothing about Dad's mole, so I'm making a batch.”

“Ooo . . . Look at that. Carmen's finally getting her groove back.” She snapped her fingers and dropped into a hip-wiggling dance.

Carmen couldn't help but laugh. If Rosa only knew—but then, in a few minutes, she would because Carmen was never good at keeping secrets from Rosa.

“Wonder Bread is really going to run a taco truck. I can't believe it. What are Gus's customers going to think?”

“I told you to stop calling him that. Liam is a trained chef with excellent experience. We serve tacos. If anything, he's way overqualified for the job.” She heated the pan with a bit of lard. The blob turned her stomach a little, but this was her father's recipe.

“Can he speak Spanish?”

“Pete ran the truck with Dad all the time, and he barely speaks Spanish.”

“You know what I mean.”

Carmen turned and folded her arms. “No, what do you mean?”

“Liam might be a good guy—”

“He is.”

“Oh, shit. You really like this guy.” Rosa crossed the room and stood beside the stove. “When the hell did this happen?”

Carmen shrugged. “We've been hanging out a lot getting him ready with the truck. Then he kissed me. It evolved from there.”

The smile formed on Carmen's lips before Rosa asked another question. Turning back to the pan, she added the various peppers that would give the sauce the heat she liked.

Rosa whistled. “You slept with him too? Now I need details.”

While the peppers browned and got crunchy, Carmen thought about how to explain things with Liam. “We're dating. He makes me feel good, Rosa. It's so different from other guys I dated. And he's patient, if you know what I mean.”

“No wham-bam for the Irish boy, huh? I guess that earns him some points. Is he good?”

“Very.” The word was inadequate, but it would do. She didn't want to reveal how much of an impact Liam had had on her. She and Rosa often talked about sex. Well, Rosa talked, and Carmen mostly listened. She couldn't imagine how good it would be with Liam if she could learn to be as uninhibited and carefree as Rosa.

“One word is not a detail.”

“You know I don't kiss and tell.”

“You barely ever kiss. I tell you everything.”

Carmen laughed and looked at her cousin. “Believe me. There are some things I could do without hearing about.”

“I'm going to the store to get us drinks. Alcohol will loosen those details.”

“There's beer in the fridge.”

Rosa reached in the fridge. “You never have beer.” When she pulled back with two bottles, she added, “And you have a bottle of wine.”

“Liam brought it.” Along with other food he left at her house. He claimed it was left over from his experimenting, but she knew that her lack of food drove him crazy.

Rosa twisted the caps off and handed her a bottle. “Drink up.” “It's two in the afternoon.”

“So what? We're not going anywhere. I'll even help cook.” Rosa moved around the kitchen easily and Carmen envied her comfort. Her cousin was comfortable everywhere.

“Chop the onion.”

“Figures,” Rosa grumbled. Before starting, she moved to the radio. “We need some tunes.” Rosa believed everything was better with music. Her hips began to sway to the rhythm as she picked up a knife.

Carmen pulled the peppers from the pan and added the next round of ingredients. “He's sneaky,” she told Rosa. “He's quiet and gentle and soothing. It's like he knows what I need before I do. It's kind of unnerving, but also nice.”

She thought about the way Liam looked at her, with desire burning in his blue eyes. A shiver skated down her back. “He looks at me with this intense expression. It's such a turn-on. Like he can't get his hands on me fast enough. But then he's never fast. He's methodical.”

Rosa dropped her onion in the pan. “I wouldn't mind that kind of attention. He got a brother?”

“A bunch, actually.”

Rosa nudged her. “So hook me up.”

“I don't know his family. I just know there are, like, six kids. I think he said most of his brothers are married, though, so I think you're out of luck.”

“Maybe when you're done with him.” Rosa wagged her eyebrows.

Her immediate reaction was
hell no,
because she couldn't imagine being done, but she said, “Gross. I would never date one of your exes.”

“That's because they're all losers.”

Carmen stirred the ingredients in the pot and drank her beer. She'd have to keep it to just the one so she wouldn't be drunk when Liam showed up. She looked at the clock again. What was the likelihood Rosa would leave before Liam arrived?

Rosa heaved a sigh. “Fine. I get it. You don't want to share. Besides finally getting laid, what else is going on? You've been scarce for weeks.”

“At first, I couldn't be around people.”

“I'm not people. I'm your best friend.”

“I know. I needed to get used to Dad being gone.” But Liam had been there with a kind word or gesture. “I'm still sorting stuff out. The truck is dealt with because Liam is handling it. I've started looking for a regular job, but I don't even know what I want to do. I also started three different projects around here. I got the bedroom painted, though.” It was her turn to sigh. “I feel scattered.”

“I know that feeling.”

Uh-oh. Carmen knew that tone. “What happened?”

“I got fired. Again.”

Rosa spent most of her life scattered. No, more like unfocused. She liked to party and she liked men, but other than that, she flaked on everything else: school, jobs, hobbies. “Do your parents know yet?”

“Nope. I'm hoping to find something tomorrow so they won't know. Or at least when they find out, I'll already have a job.”

“What happened this time?”

“I was bored and screwing around on company time.”

“Please tell me you weren't literally screwing around, like with your boss or something.” She added the remaining ingredients and put the peppers back in. When the chicken broth began to simmer, she added the touch of chocolate.

“No. I was surfing the Internet when I was supposed to be typing up some stupid report.”

Carmen felt relief. Rosa's parents would keel over if she had gotten fired over her sex life.

With everything in the huge stockpot, she sat at the table and kicked the chair next to her for Rosa to join her. “Sounds like we both need a plan.”

“You have a job. Working for the truck is what you've been doing for years. Plus, you don't have to pay rent or nothin'.”

“I still have bills. The truck was never supposed to be my life. At first, it was to give me something to do while I took care of Mom. Then after she died, I stayed on to help Dad. I don't know that this is what I want to do forever. It's not really a career. Definitely not the one I planned on and worked for.” But that had been so long ago, she wasn't sure she even remembered those dreams.

“At least you have a plan, something to try to get back to. I got nothing.”

“Find something you like, something you're passionate about.” She smiled at her cousin. “Something other than a guy.”

Rosa rolled her eyes.

“You have to want it enough to stick with it.” Liam was a chef who wanted a restaurant. What if he didn't stick with the truck? Carmen shoved the thought aside. She'd deal with that if it happened.

“Too bad I don't have any ideas.”

Carmen pushed up from her spot. “Then in the meantime, you can help me paint. This house hasn't had any work done in too many years.”

Before following Carmen to the living room, Rosa dialed up the volume on the radio and grabbed a couple more beers.

Liam rang Lily's bell. Why she wanted to live above her mother's diner, he would never understand. Kind of like how Colin and Ryan had both lived above O'Leary's Pub. When he was done with work, he wanted to get away, into his own space.

Lily opened the door with a bright smile and handed him a glass of wine.

“What's this for?”

“We're celebrating.”

He followed her into her apartment, which was really just a studio. She had a small love seat in front of a chest that held her TV. In the corner, her bed was situated beneath a window. Her kitchen consisted of a miniscule counter, an apartment-sized refrigerator and stove. The pots he'd given her last Christmas hung from a rack.

He shrugged out of his coat and laid it on a folding chair. They sat on the faded couch.

“I talked to my mom. I told her about culinary school and how much I want it. She listened, Liam, like really listened. She didn't blow me off with ‘I taught you how to cook. If it's good for us, it's good for the diner.' It was like the first time she got that I want more than the diner.”

He patted her leg. “Congratulations. I told you it would work out.”

“It wouldn't have happened without your help.” She jumped at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her actions knocked his wine all over his shirt.

“Shoot. I'm sorry.” She pulled away and grabbed a towel from the kitchen.

A red splotch spread across the middle of his torso. Lily returned and began blotting the spot.

“This isn't working. Take the shirt off and I'll see if I can get it out.”

Liam unbuttoned the shirt. He had a matching spot on his undershirt. Lily watched his movements.

“Give me that one too.”

“It's fine.”

She took his shirt to the kitchen sink and ran water on it. She scrubbed furiously. “I'm so sorry about this. I just got excited. I wasn't thinking.” She held the shirt out and examined it. “It might be ruined. I'll buy you a new one.”

“It's not a big deal. Forget about it. Come back and tell me what your mom said.”

Lily trudged back to the couch, gripping his ruined shirt. She moved his coat and hung the shirt in its place and then joined him. “I told her I want to go to culinary school. At first, she thought it was a joke. When she saw I wasn't laughing, she listened. I told her about you and how much you'd already taught me.”

“I haven't done much.”

She reached out and covered his hand with hers. The movement, which she'd probably done before, suddenly felt different to him. “Yes, you have. Don't sell yourself short.”

Her hand didn't move and she scooted closer. “Without you pushing me to talk to her, I probably wouldn't have. Thank you.”

She leaned in again. Before Liam could process what she was doing, her lips made contact. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, shoving her tongue past his lips. Liam blinked in shock and then grabbed her shoulders. Gently pushing her back, he asked, “What was that?”

She smiled, her blue eyes soft. “I get that you're a cautious guy. I do. And I've been waiting forever for you to make a move. I guess I got tired of waiting.”

“Oh, uh.” He leaned farther back into the couch. “I'm seeing someone.”

She sank away from him. “You are? Since when?”

“It's kind of new.” How the hell was he supposed to answer this without hurting her? He'd never looked at Lily as anything other than a friend. In fact, she was like another little sister.

“Oh.” The single syllable held pain that he hadn't wanted to cause.

“I like you, Lily, but we're friends.”