Sex and Key Lime Pie (18 page)

Who had lost her golden halo a decade ago. “Go home, Tony. Your wife might say she doesn’t want you there, but she does.”

“I know. You women think you’re so tough, but it’s only because we let you believe it.”

She laughed at the all-too-familiar sentiment. “You’ve been hanging around your brother-in-law too long.”

****

Tony Junior, or T.J. for short, entered the world on a Monday afternoon at 12:15 p.m. His formal name, Anthony Lucien Ortega, gave the kid too much to live up to at only six hours old. Cheyanne entered Isabelle’s room, carrying a lifesaving paper sack of food just as the hospital was serving dinner.

“There is a God.”

“Damn, Izzy—no one has the right to look so good right after giving birth. I’m sure there’s a law against it.” She placed the containers on the tray. “Where’s your other half?”

“Where do you think? In front of the nursery making sure that every person who arrives sees his son. Where are the kids?”

“Same place. I’m about to head there myself, but I figured you’d want to eat first.”

“I do. And I’m starting with dessert or my brother will steal it when he gets here.”

Cheyanne laughed. “Not from you.”

“He’s a key lime junkie. Nothing else satisfies him. He knew he’d hit rock bottom when he was even willing to eat the mass produced frozen stuff. After that, he went on the wagon for a while, but you came into town with your pies and he fell right off.”

“Gee, thanks. You make me sound like some street corner pusher who contributed to the delinquency of a minor.”

“Well, he’s hardly a minor and it’s not an illegal addiction. And, being the sap that I am, I’d just give it to him anyway after he went and gave me old camp Wah-ta-wah.” She sucked in a deep breath.

“You can’t leave, Cheyanne. Stay and be a partner.”

“Tony doesn’t need a partner. He’s more than capable of running the place himself. I’ll always be a phone call away. Not to mention being stuck with me Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter breaks.” The knowledge brought comfort to neither woman.

Isabelle came to her feet. “Let’s walk down to the nursery.”

“What about your dinner?”

“It will stay warm.” She hooked arms with Cheyanne. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you still in love with Luc?”

Cheyanne wagged her finger. “I thought we agreed you would stay out of that.”

“I’m not interfering. I’m asking a question.”

“You know the answer already. We’ve been friends for twenty years and I’ve never been able to hide anything from you. Heck, I couldn’t even keep your birthday presents a secret.”

“That’s true.”

Cheyanne might as well paint a big red heart on the sleeve of her yellow T-shirt. Her emotions regarding Luc were transparent.

“Is he treating you all right?”

They paused in front of the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Once inside, Cheyanne pushed the button for the second floor. “I’m not the pathetic, love sick, puppy I used to be, Izzy. If he wasn’t treating me right, I’d cut him off from pie.”

“Not sex?”

“No point in punishing myself.” Cheyanne avoided Isabelle’s playful smack. “Stop worrying.”

“I can’t help it. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t.”

“Good thing, because Alicia doesn’t plan to lose her cousin either.”

“That goes double for Sam. I wouldn’t say he’s mad at me, but he wanted to know why I never brought him to meet his family before. Sad part is, I don’t have a good reason.”

Cheyanne twisted her hands together. Sam had been asking fewer questions about California and more about his family in the past couple of days. At one point he humorously wondered if he was related to the entire town. As if to underscore that question, the elevator came to a stop and the doors swung open. In the corridor, in front of the large nursery windows, stood a gathering of visitors, three-quarters of whom shared some degree of a blood relationship to Sam.

“Don’t you find it ironic that you did all the work and Tony got all the credit?” Cheyanne noted.

“It’s a man’s world. They surround me. Even my daughter is one of the boys.”

She glanced at the kids, most of whom were still dressed from their soccer camp. If not for the ponytail, she would be hard pressed to tell Alicia from the male cousins. “It could be worse. At least you don’t have a monkey.”

“Don’t think my daughter isn’t begging for one. Ask her what she wants for her birthday and that’s all she says. We thought about it. Tony even checked out prices on the Internet, but do you have any idea how much they cost? Of course you do. You have one.”

“Actually, Pele was free. Unless you count the gray hairs he gives me. I have a friend who works with an animal rescue group in Boston. She’s always looking for foster homes for monkeys because she doesn’t want them used for lab testing.”

“Could she get one for Alicia?”

“Are you out of your mind? A new baby isn’t enough for you?”

“She really wants it.”

Cheyanne knew firsthand the tenacity of this family when they set their minds to something. “First tell her she has to research just how much work is involved. Monkeys get aggressive when they grow old and eventually they will have to go to a primate preserve.”

“Sam already told her.”

“Ask me again next week, when you’ve been home with little T.J. for a week or so.”

“Deal. But don’t tell anyone. I’d like to make it a birthday surprise.” Obviously, Isabelle didn’t want to wait the week. She’d already made up her mind.

An amused grin twitched at the corners of Cheyanne’s mouth. To think, she’d once considered Isabelle the voice of reason. “It will be our secret.”

“Keeping secrets again?” The deep voice from behind caused both women to jump. Luc was still coming out of the shadows to give her a fright. “I hope you weren’t talking about me.”

“Not everything is about you!” both women said in near perfect unison.

“Whoa, stereo.” In his typical, I’m-the-center-of-the-world manner, he fitted himself between the two women. “Are you supposed to be out of bed?”

“Are you supposed to be out of work?” Isabelle shot back.

“Hey, my sister had a baby. Let them fire me. Wait, I’m the boss. I can’t be fired.”

Isabelle shook her head. “Why do you put up with him, Dizzy?”

Why? Because she’d loved him since she was eight years old. She couldn’t help herself, and God knew, she had tried. “He has his moments.”

Before they reached the group, he caught her around the waist and dropped a kiss on her mouth without a care to the curious crowd in front of them. Strangely, no one seemed surprised except her. Even Sam just rolled his eyes.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I was having a moment.”

Every time she thought she’d figured out his game, he changed the rules. At first he’d wanted her to leave. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. When that didn’t work, he wanted a casual affair with no strings and no obligations. She could have handled a summer affair as long as he allowed her to keep an emotional distance. Now, he tried to make her stay by pushing every sentimental button she had regarding her friends and her son. The only thing he didn’t offer was the one thing she needed to hear.

She had obligations of her own, most importantly to Sam, and she would not change her plans on Luc’s whim. What would happen when he decided he’d had enough?

Wallowing in a state of confusion would not do. She needed to lay out the truth and leave the ball in Luc’s court. Only not this week. Between the new hours, menu changes and being short one cook, she needed to focus on work.

She wriggled out of his embrace, but his arm remained possessively across her back as they joined the others. Coming up behind Sam, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He leaned back, until he rested against her and Luc. In the glare of the glass, through misty eyes, she saw the reflection of what should have been.

****

The Fourth of July weekend in Mystic Cove ended with a bang. Luc kicked back in a lounge chair on the deck of the boat and watched the explosion of colored lights flashing above his head. The night air was crystal clear and warm. A faint aroma of grilling meat permeated the air and the taste of salt lingered on his lips. The gentle rocking motion lulled him into a peaceful state of bliss. The night was perfect for a seduction. The only thing missing was his woman.

Indicative of the state of his love life this weekend, he shared the romantic atmosphere with three people whose total age combined didn’t equal his. Thankfully, his sister didn’t trust him with the responsibility of her newborn. A younger generation of Musketeers emerged in the trio of Alicia, Sam, and Ricky, another step-cousin new to the family. Their shared love of soccer, sand, and the silly monkey had bonded them for life.

Luc was happy for his sister and brother-in-law. The holiday weekend at the restaurant far exceeded their expectations. They’d actually turned customers away. At the same time, the workload tripled, which left them scrambling to keep up with the cooking. He knew the level of desperation when his services were enlisted as chief sitter. All other family members went to work washing dishes, clearing tables or taking money.

“Guess what, Sam?” Alicia said. “Your name means answer to a prayer.” She leafed though the pages of a baby-naming book she had swiped from her mother. “And Ricky’s means great ruler.”

“That’s me!” Ricky agreed. He stood at the tip of the bow and raised his arms. “I’m the king of the world.”

“What does yours mean?” Sam asked her. “Monkey girl?”

“I wish, prayer boy.”

Luc laughed. The way those two teased each other reminded him of his relationship with Isabelle. If Sam were older, Luc would be nervous. Or would he? Having a son like Sam wouldn’t be bad. It was uncanny how alike they were in personality. Gentle and protective of his mother and cousins, but otherwise, Sam was a strong-willed, self-contained, introspective, tough guy. None of the other children messed with him, on or off the soccer field. And no one dared to whisper an insult in Alicia’s direction with Sam in earshot. He apparently studied some type of martial arts and by all accounts he was very good, but he didn’t fight. He didn’t need to.

Luc folded his hands behind his head. He wondered briefly how Cheyanne raised this future bad-boy on her own. When he thought about it, the answer came to him. She had a softer body and rounded curves, but otherwise, she’d become a male version of him. No wonder she could beat him at his own game. She wanted him but she would never admit it. She would do anything for him as long as he didn’t expect it. And she would remain one hundred percent faithful but wouldn’t make a commitment. He’d met his match!

Alicia splashed water at him to get his attention. “My name means captivating. What’s that, Uncle Luc?”

“Something you will be when you’re older. For now stick with monkey girl.”

She scrunched her nose at him. “Very funny, Mr. Lucien Allesandro.”

Sam coughed and a piece of bubbly gum flew out of his mouth. “His name is Lucien Allesandro?”

“Yeah, he’s Portuguese like my mom,” she said as she turned the pages. “Your name means bright light.”

“It should be luz brilhante,” Sam muttered absently.

Luc shook his head. “What did you say, Sam?”

“Luz Brilhante. It’s bright light in Portuguese... I think. Did I s-say it wrong?” He stammered as if he’s made a mistake.

“No. You said it perfectly.” Even mispronounced, the words would have taken Luc by surprise. He didn’t believe in coincidence, so what were the odds of a company with that name being his financial backer?

Sam appeared upset. Luc had a healthy respect for privacy, but introspection had a downside. Obviously something was bothering the boy. He wasn’t easily intimidated, so Luc doubted his tone had startled Sam. However, something had him eyeing Luc with a confused and wary expression.

Luckily, at eight years old, he was easily distracted. Alicia grabbed both boys by their sleeves. “It’s time for the finale.” They joined Luc on the deck, laying on their backs and staring up at the sky.

Chapter
Thirteen

Cheyanne entered the Rusty Nail a little after nine o’clock. She had left Mystic Heights before she was legally old enough to drink so she’d never had the chance to party in the legendary pub. In her mind it remained that bar where Luc and his friends hung out in their early twenties, while she was still an annoying, under-aged, pain in his ass.

Marine paraphernalia—fishing nets, oars, and lobster cages—made up the basic decor. The rustic atmosphere had appealed to the macho, working class clientele back then. But now, the summer tourists had taken over. Sun-bunnies in their cut-offs and bikini tops tried to catch the attention of the local guys.

She spotted her friends in a corner booth. Anywhere would have been better for a girl’s night out, but she could hardly complain since she’d chosen the place. At least the waterfront bar was walking distance from her house.