Secret Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (11 page)

“You are very loyal.”

“I am not a snitch.”

“Now you sound like people who witness a murder, then claim they saw nothing.”

“I wasn’t giving up my twin sister.”

“What did your father do?” Greer questioned.

“When he discovered her car missing, he called the police and told them she’d stolen it. He could do that because it was registered in his name. The Miami-Dade P.D. held her until Dad drove down to get her. He paid someone to drive the car back to Boca Raton. She had to give him her driver’s license, and he treated her like a stranger for at least a month. Ana said the alienation was worse than if he’d grounded her.”

“Did she ever get her license back?”

Jason nodded. “Eventually. I had to drive her everywhere when she was on lockdown. One day I confronted Dad after Ana came to me crying hysterically that her father hated her, and I got to see another side of my father that I don’t want to ever see again. He went off, warning me never to question his authority again when it came to raising his children. He still wasn’t talking to Ana, and after that, I refused to talk to him. To say there was a lot of tension in the house is an understatement.”

“How did your mother react to the drama?”

“She refused to take sides. Thankfully our apartments were in another wing of the house, so we didn’t get to see or hear what went on between our parents.”

Greer didn’t know why, but she was intrigued by the story. “I have to assume you guys reconciled.”

“It was
Abuela
who ended the stalemate. She claimed Ana was a lot like her when she was a young woman in Cuba. My grandmother permitted an artist to take photographs of her wearing next to nothing, and because she was born into a very proper upper-class family, it proved to be quite scandalous in 1920s Havana. Her father threatened to marry her off to the first man in their social class who would have her, regardless of his age. She countered saying she was going to become a courtesan, but my grandfather salvaged her family’s reputation and
Abuela
from an arranged marriage when he married her and brought her back to Florida.”

“That is so romantic. Do you have photographs of them?”

“I have an office in my studio where I keep family photos. You’ll see them tomorrow—”

“It’s already tomorrow, Jason,” Greer said teasingly.

“You’re right, and I’m keeping you from going to sleep.” Jason sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “What time do you have to leave?”

“I don’t need to be at Stella’s until four. I brought the clothes I plan to wear with me.”

“Good. That means we can spend the day together.” Pushing off the bed, he rounded it, picking up the mugs. Leaning over he kissed her forehead. “Sleep well.”

She smiled up at him. “You, too.”

“Do you want me to close the door?”

Greer smothered a yawn with her hand. “Yes, please.” She reached over and turned off the lamp at the same time Jason closed the door. Her eyelids fluttered, her breathing deepened as she expelled a soft sigh.

In talking to Jason, he’d revealed a lot about himself. He’d admitted to being solitary and uncompromisingly loyal. He’d sworn an oath to his sister that he wouldn’t reveal her whereabouts, and he hadn’t even under the threat of losing his trust fund.

If Jason had been born too late, then it was Greer who’d met him too late. She thought about his relationship with women when he had professed:
it’s about making her happy. If she’s happy, then I’m happy.
Her uncle may have been right when he had said, once she got to know Jason, she’d realize he’s an all-around nice guy.

Nice or not, she was still wary of men. She’d believed Larry was a nice guy until she had become Mrs. Lawrence Hill. He’d changed from the wonderful boy next door into something and someone she didn’t recognize. She wasn’t his wife but a possession. Someone he put on display for his friends and business associates. It had reached a point when she’d had enough and, a week past her second anniversary, she had left the man with whom she believed she would spend her life. As soon as she’d received a copy of her divorce, Greer vowed she would never marry again.

Chapter 10

W
hen Greer left her bedroom, the door to Jason’s suite of rooms was open. She didn’t know whether he was still in bed or if he’d gotten up early to go into the studio. Her sock-covered feet were silent as she descended the staircase and headed for the kitchen. It was eerie because the house was as silent as a tomb.

Greer opened the refrigerator and freezer, taking inventory of its contents. “Bless you, Jason,” she whispered. The refrigerator was stocked with what she needed to make omelets and parmesan steak fries. She made two trips from the fridge to the cooking island, gathering potatoes, eggs, butter, pepper and onions, a carton of crumbled feta cheese and a plastic bag with fresh spinach leaves.

Opening and closing drawers under the countertop, she found a cutting board and knives. Overhead cabinets held spice racks, dishes, cups and saucers, and another with mixing bowls. Jason had installed an audio unit in one of the cabinets, but Greer hesitated turning it on because she wasn’t certain whether he was still asleep.

Humming softly, she preheated the oven, then sliced the potatoes into wedges, adding ground garlic powder and dried parsley. Greer had forgotten how much she enjoyed prepping a meal as she sliced, chopped and diced. For all her pleasant memories of cooking, and singing while cooking, still Bobby’s revelation that he was going into semi-retirement had been totally expected. Her uncle had accused her of being in denial if she believed he would continue running the restaurant for the next ten years. Last night, while soaking in the Jacuzzi, she’d thought about the possibility of owning and managing Stella’s.

Bobby was offering an alternative to the undercover work that had been so much a part of her life for the past six years. She smiled. Every summer her aunt would remind her that someday the restaurant would be hers. But at that time Greer hadn’t thought about becoming a businessperson. She’d loved watching Stella prepare dishes before attempting them herself, but it was swimming and boating, hunting and hiking that had become a priority for her.

How, she mused, had she gone from teaching first and second graders to becoming a special agent for the ATF to contemplating taking over a family-owned restaurant?

As she cut the potatoes into wedges, Greer found herself warming to the idea of running Stella’s. The landmark eating establishment had survived competition from fast-food restaurants popping up all over the region. The quality of the food had remained consistent for three decades, Pepper’s skill as a mixologist had become legendary, and the appeal of Karaoke Nights each Thursday and the live band on Fridays and Saturdays offered something for everyone from teens to seniors.

Converting Stella’s into an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant was certain to bring in even more families. When Bobby had first introduced buffet dining, he’d believed people would fill their plates with food, then Bobby would have to throw away their leftovers. Wasting food was a pet peeve for her uncle because he’d grown up in Appalachia where many nights he and his sisters had gone to bed hungry. The posted sign, Take What You Want, But Eat All That You Take, was a constant reminder for the loyal patrons and those coming for the first time.

One more time, she tossed the potatoes in the bowl with parsley and garlic power and olive oil, before placing them on a parchment-lined baking sheet, finally dusting them with grated parmesan cheese. Greer then turned her attention to the omelets. Seeing movement out the side of her eye, she turned to see Jason in a pair of wet swim trunks and flip-flops.

She smiled. “Good morning.”

Jason’s teeth shone whitely in his stubbly face.

* * *

Jason hadn’t known what to expect, but it was a pleasant surprise to find a woman in his kitchen. Especially if that woman was Greer Evans. His gaze moved leisurely from the hair pinned haphazardly atop her head, down to the black tank top outlining the thrust of her firm breasts and lower to a pair of denim shorts displaying her long, slender legs to their best advantage and stopping at a pair of ankle socks.

Jason had slept fitfully, his dreams filled with erotic images of him making love to her. At first he’d believed it was because it’d been a while since he’d slept with a woman, then realized it was
the woman
sleeping in a bedroom across the hall from his. And when he got up earlier that morning, he chided himself for getting into bed with Greer the evening before. It was something he would make certain not to repeat if he wanted a restful night’s sleep.

“Good morning. I didn’t know you were up. Otherwise I would’ve invited you to join me in the pool.”

Greer continued chopping spinach. She didn’t trust herself not to gawk at the mat of chest hair tapering down to a narrow line and disappearing under the waistband of his trunks. “I didn’t bring a suit.”

“You don’t need a suit. Either you can swim in your underwear or in the buff.”

Her hand halted. “You swim nude?”

Jason nodded. “Only at night. The pool is lit and heated.”

“Aren’t you concerned about someone seeing you?”

He came closer, leaning his chest against her back.

Greer held her breath.

“No.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. She smelled delicious. “You smell wonderful.”

Greer smiled. “And you smell like chlorine.” Her voice trembled with laughter.

“I’m going upstairs to take a shower.”

“I’ll hold breakfast until you are ready.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“Feta and spinach omelets, parmesan steak fries, sliced fruit and coffee or tea.”

Jason kissed her neck again. “You definitely are a keeper,” he said, repeating what she’d told him—what now seemed so long ago. Why, he mused, did it feel as if he’d known Greer for several months when it’d only been weeks?

Greer swatted at him with a dish towel. “Go shower.”

“Yes, darling.” She gave him an eye roll and Jason put up his hands. “I’m going.”

* * *

Greer was hard-pressed not to smile when he executed a snappy salute, then turned on his heels and marched out of the kitchen. But she did smile when she realized how comfortable she felt around Jason. She’d slept in his house without the pressure of having to lock her bedroom door to keep him out. Even before she’d married Larry, Greer had dated men who’d expected her to sleep with them because they’d taken her to dinner. She forgotten how many times she’d said she wasn’t any man’s dessert.

Bobby had urged her to go out, date and have some fun. Not only had she taken his advice but, fortunately, she was able to combine business with pleasure. Jason had talked about having some of his family members sleep over at Chase’s house if he ran out of room at his home. If she hadn’t identified the person or persons responsible for illegal gun sales by then, it would present the perfect opportunity for Greer to gain access to Chase’s home if he was in Hawaii.

Her smile grew wider. Jason Cole was the perfect conduit through which she could get close to Chase. Although she’d professed Chase wasn’t her type, there was nothing stopping her from befriending him without arousing his suspicions. After all, she was dating one of his best friends.

Dating. The word sounded strange to Greer because it had been a very long time since she’d had a date. She and Larry had dated off and on for years before he had finally proposed marriage. Then it was another eighteen months before they had tied the knot, and nothing could have ever prepared her for what was to come. Initially she had believed he was being protective. Protectiveness became overprotectiveness, then she began to feel as if she was being smothered. That escalated until Greer knew, if she didn’t end her sham of a marriage then, like a lot of emotionally abused women, she would never get out. It had ended with one act that had left her stunned and close to contemplating murdering her husband. She had called Cooper, and he had come to get her. It took all her strength to beg and plead with her brother not to kill his brother-in-law, and Cooper made her promise that she would never reconcile with Larry or he
would
kill him.

Knowing her brother wasn’t issuing an idle threat was another key to her not reconciling with Larry even when he had told her that he was seeing a therapist. Larry hadn’t made it easy when she had filed for divorce. He’d manufactured illnesses and scheduled hospital stays wherein he wasn’t able to meet with Greer’s attorney or keep his court appointments. The entire process dragged on for nearly two years, but in the end, she had won. She was granted a divorce and the only thing she wanted was to revert to using her maiden name.

Picking up the baking sheet, she placed it in the oven, then concentrated on slicing strawberries for a fruit cup. She added blueberries and blackberries, creating a colorful mix. The potatoes were turning a light golden brown when Jason entered the kitchen in a T-shirt with a faded college logo, ripped jeans and socks. Droplets of water clung to his hair. His straight, white teeth were a sensual contrast to his deeply tanned olive-brown face.

“You didn’t leave anything for me to do,” Jason said when he saw that Greer had put out place settings at the dining table instead of at the breakfast bar.

Greer looked at him over her shoulder. “You can make the coffee.”

He walked over to the industrial-type coffee machine. “What do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

* * *

Jason closed the distance between them and stood behind her. There was something in the way Greer looked that reminded him of seductive perfume ads. The just-made-love-to mussed hair, parted lips and the expression of wide-eyed innocence created a quiet storm in his loins.

Instead of taking a step backward, he pressed his groin to her hips.

“Please don’t move,” he pleaded helplessly.

Greer had to feel the pulsing flesh against her buttocks, and she gripped the edge of the countertop to keep her balance. Her breathing was coming fast. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

Jason responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. “I just want to hold you.”

“You can’t do that,” she protested. “Not when you’re aroused.”

He smiled, burying his face between her scented neck and shoulders. “I can’t help it. Just looking at you makes me aroused.”

Greer swallowed. “This isn’t just about you, Jason.”

“Then what is it about?” he whispered in her ear.

“It’s about us.”

“What about us, darling?”

* * *

Greer’s shaking knees gave way, and Greer found herself slumping into Jason’s hard body. Being in his arms reminded her of how much she had missed being with a man. His erection throbbing against her was a blatant reminder of how much she’d missed the intimacy of joining her body with a man’s.

“Is this the ploy you use to get women to sleep with you?” Jason’s arms tightened around her waist until she found drawing a breath difficult.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re squeezing me too tight.” His hold eased and Greer exhaled audibly. “You offer them a recording contract as a ruse to get them into bed with you?”

The chuckle that began in Jason’s throat escalated to unrestrained laughter. “Is that what you believe? For your information, you’re the first woman, other than the women in my family, to ever come here. And if I’d wanted to sleep with you within minutes of meeting you, I definitely would’ve let you know that. I told you before that I have too much respect for Bobby to mess over you. I like to think of myself as a normal man with normal sexual urges. The problem is that you are unable to accept that you are a very sexy woman. Why do you think the men at Stella’s are drawn to you?”

“You included?”

“Yes. Me included. But for a different reason. Do I want to make love to you? Yes,” he said, answering his own question. “But it would have to be on your terms, Greer. If you say never, then I’ll accept it and withdraw honorably. What say you?”

Greer felt as if Jason had put her on the spot. That the final decision had to be hers. Then she wondered how many men were willing to give a woman the advantage of determining when they wanted to take their relationship to another level? None of the men in her past had offered her that choice.

She had to acknowledge that she liked Jason. Probably enough to sleep with him because the physical attraction was undeniable. “I’m not going to say never, but I’m not willing to say yes at this time.”

Jason turned Greer around to face him.

He must have known she was conflicted because of her failed marriage, but still she felt she could trust him enough to know that he wouldn’t do anything to exacerbate the emotional turmoil she’d endured with her ex-husband.

Cradling her face in his hands, he pressed a soft, healing kiss to her mouth. “Take all the time you need,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

Greer wanted to tell him that he was wrong. As soon as she finished her assignment, she would leave him and Mission Grove. And if he left before she did, then she would have her memories of a man who was not like any other she’d met.

“Please let me go so I can take the potatoes out of the oven before they burn.”

Jason kissed her again. This time at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll take them out.”

* * *

Smiling, Jason released Greer, picked up a remote device and turned on the radio. The distinctive voice of Bonnie Raitt singing “I Can’t Make You Love Me” came from the speakers. Picking up a pot holder, he took the baking sheet from the oven, the delicious aroma of garlic and cheese wafting to his nose.

The hair on the back of his neck stood when he heard Greer singing the hauntingly beautiful song of unrequited love. He stood, transfixed, listening as she cracked eggs in a bowl and mixed them with a whisk before ladling a portion into a heated omelet pan. She then added the spinach and cheese, testing the underside for doneness.

“Please bring me a plate, Jason.”

It took a full twenty seconds for him to force his legs to move. He handed her the plate, smiling when she folded the omelet in half and slid it onto the plate.

“You do that like a pro.”