Spicy (Palate #1) (9 page)

I shrugged.  “I’m Joel’s mom.  Beyond that, I really have no idea.  Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder who the stranger staring back at me is.  Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself or my life anymore.  I guess I’ve been so preoccupied with parenthood that I’ve sort of lost
sight of the person I was…the person I wanted to be.”

“You are Joel’s mom,” Gavin agreed, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back against the park bench.  “But you’re so much more than that.  I can see it, so I don’t know why you can’t.  You’re an independent, smart, stubborn, irritating woman. 
You’re a fighter, a chef and an aspiring entrepreneur.  You’re brave.  You’re strong.”  His voice grew softer.  “You’re gorgeous.  And I admire you very much.”

Bread cast aside, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at them hard. 
When Gavin gently tilted my chin towards him he saw my eyes were full of tears. 

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing them away with his fingertip.  “
You’ve cried enough today.”

“Why do you let people think you’re such a
n asshole?” I demanded.

“Because I am?” he replied
with a touch of amusement, instantly lightening the mood. 

“You act like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet but you’re really not,” I insisted.

He chuckled.  “That just might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“I’m serious,” I told him.  “I’ve been watching you.  It’s like the second there are cameras around, you morph into this egotistical guy with a chip on his shoulder.  I don’t get it.  What are you trying to prove?”

“It’s getting dark,” he said with a nod at the sky.  “Shall I walk you home?”

I followed his gaze and saw the most brilliant sunset lighting up the sky, hues of pink and mauve painting the horizon
like a canvas.  Until then, I’d been oblivious.  We’d been enjoying our time together in the park so much that I don’t think either one of us had realized how late it was.

“Okay,” I agreed, “but it’s a long walk
and you’ve already seen how stubborn I am.  I’m not going to stop pestering you until you give me some answers.”  My tone was playful but I found myself genuinely curious and almost a little nervous about what secrets Gavin might be keeping. 

I knew all too
well that men who keep secrets are usually bad news.

“Do you remember when you asked me why I keep doing TV shows when I hate Hollywood?”  Gavin and I were walking slowly down a quiet residential street, our steps synchronized and our fingertips not quite brushing.  When he asked the question, I felt my whole body tense.

“Yes.”

“And do you remember my answer?”

“Spite,” I replied at once.  It had been such an unusual and vague explanation that it was impossible to forget.  I’d wanted to know more but he’d cautioned me it was better I didn’t.  Maybe that was back before he realized how relentless I could be about getting answers.

Gavin sighed.  “Yes, spite.  What do you know about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“My life,” Gavin clarified.  “What do you know about my life?”

“Not a lot,” I admitted.  “You have a cooking show that shot to fame a few years ago.  You’re possibly even more famous for your reputation.  But everyone knows that.”

“What’s my reputation?” he asked curiously. 

“You know,” I replied, wondering why he was goading me into saying it.  After all, it wasn’t exactly flattering.  “You’re a womanizer and a pain in the ass to work with.  You throw lavish parties just because you can and you sleep around with models and actresses.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Well maybe that’s my reputation,” Gavin conceded, “but none of it is true…except for the pain in the ass bit.  That part might be true.  In fact, that part
is
true, but it’s only because the phoniness of Hollywood grates on my nerves.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know.”

“I never said you were.”

I stopped walking then and positioned myself in front of Gavin so he had to stop too.  With my hands planted firmly on my hips, I informed him, “I’ve seen the photos on the covers of the tabloids.  I’ve seen you on yachts with the rich and famous, guzzling champagne with women whose bikinis are the size of postage stamps.
  Why deny it?”

“Oh I’m not denying that,” Gavin responded at once.  “That much is true.  But I don’t sleep around.  I pose for photos with the models and actresses.  I make sure to give the paparazzi exactly what they’re after.  But I’m not the man-whore you make me out to be.  In fact, ‘womanizer’ is the last word I’d ever used to describe myself.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why’s that?
  I have no reason to lie to you.”

“But what about Bitchy?” I demanded, thinking of the skanky bottle blonde server at Palate whose only redeeming qualities were being tall, leggy and tanned.  She was good for
providing eye candy and snootiness but not much else.

“Uh…pardon?”

“You hired me and Amanda to help us out,” I pointed out.  “But Bitchy – uh, I mean Trisha – I’m pretty sure she’s just a conceited aspiring wannabe actress who came to Hollywood to try to make it big, no?” 

Girls like her were a dime a dozen
in this city.  I could spot them from a mile away.

“She is,” Gavin agreed.  “I hate to say it but there’s not much substance there.”

“But she has big tits.”

He chuckled at that.  “Yes, she has big, fake
tits.  Your point is what, exactly?”

“Well that has to be the reason you keep her around, right?  Her looks…?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it!”  Normally I’d celebrate being right because I had a way of being annoyingly competitive.  But this time proving my point brought me no joy.  In fact, it only upset me.

“Are you going to let me explain or are you going to keep interrogating me?” Gavin asked.

“What is there to explain?” I grumbled.

“Well let me talk and I’ll tell you,” he teased.  Then, just like that, the humor was gone.  Gavin became somber and began walking again, giving me no choice but to fall into step beside him.  “Did you know I was married once?” he asked.

“What? 
No…I had no idea.”  My head was spinning.  I never would have taken Gavin for the settling down type, but it seemed there was a time when he’d been exactly that.  A million questions were swirling around inside my head, but I forced myself to stay quiet and let him take the lead.

“Her name was Jessica and we were high school sweethearts,” h
e explained.  “We married after college, back before my career took off.  I was barely making minimum wage back then but it didn’t matter.  She was the only woman I’d ever loved.  Or at least I loved the person I thought she was,” he added.

I recognized the rawness in his voice well.  It was the same bitterness that consumed me every time I spoke of Joel’s father.  I could sense that, like mine, Gavin’s wounds ran deep.

“So I’m guessing things didn’t work out?” I ventured when he fell silent.

“Nope, we got divorced before we even made it to our first wedding anniversary,” he replied. 

“Oh.”

“Call it stupid pride or…whatever, but when my career started taking off I just had this urge to flaunt my success. 
So I hammed it up for the cameras at every opportunity.  I flirted with women like Trisha whenever cameras were around.  I schmoozed with beautiful celebrities.  In the beginning it was about spiting my ex-wife.  Now I guess it’s just become a bad habit.”

“I…guess that makes sense?”
  It seemed reasonable enough that a guy would do stupid things to save face after having his heart ripped out, but did it mean he was still in love with his ex?

“I’m not sure how else to explain it,” Gavin said.  “It sounds stupid and petty and honestly, it was.  Sometimes I think divorce has a way of bringing pettiness and spite to the forefront. 
I wanted to prove a point, I suppose, and make it clear that I was better off without her.”

“Do you believe that?”

It was Gavin’s turn to stop walking.  “You know,” he said contemplatively, “they say that ignorance is bliss.  I think that’s complete bullshit.  Ignorance is ignorance and bliss is bliss.  A relationship that’s built on lies is exactly that:  lies.  So yes, I’m better off without her.  I wish I’d never met her.  I wish I hadn’t invested so much time and energy into our relationship.  But at least now I know not to make the same mistake again.”

“Isn’t that a bit dark?”

“I don’t know, is it?”  Gavin looked at me like he knew my heart and my innermost secrets.  “Have you dated anyone since the college professor?”  It seemed he already had a good idea of what the answer would be.

“No.”  The sun was almost completely down now, though the night air was still warm.  I studied the long shadows our bodies cast on the sidewalk intently.  “
I’ve been a little busy, you know,
raising a kid
.”

“Then you’re not all that different than me.  Your love
story turned sour it made you swear off relationships.  You can say you’ve been busy – and I don’t doubt that you have been – but that’s really what it comes down to, isn’t it?”

“
I don’t know that I’ve shunned relationships,” I protested somewhat uncertainly.

“But you’re suspicious now…guarded
…closed off.  I’m right, aren’t I?”

“
I have to be more selective about who I date now that I have Joel to consider,” I insisted.

“Being selective about who you date and
not dating
are two different things,” Gavin pointed out.  Infuriatingly, he was right.  I hated when that happened.  “Do you at least have one night stands?” he asked with a wink that was intended to make me blush.  It accomplished its mission.

“I don’t see how that’s any
of your business!” I exclaimed, my cheeks burning hotly. 

Gavin laughed.  “I’m guessing that’s a no?”

“It’s a no.  I mean, there may have been some drunken fooling around at frat parties and stuff back before the professor came into the picture.  But nothing too crazy,” I replied with a touch of nostalgia in my voice.  “Just regular college stuff.”

“Do you miss it?”

“What, the partying?  No.  I think I’m past that stage of my life.  But I do miss the spontaneity.  I took it for granted back then.  I could do what I wanted when I wanted, usually without much regard for the consequences – I suppose that’s how I ended up getting pregnant,” I said wryly.  “But I don’t exactly get to be spontaneous anymore.”

Gavin took my hand then and pulled me in the opposite direction.  “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I protested, momentarily resisting.  “My apartment is the other way.”

“Just trust me
.”

Hand-in-hand, Gavin and I walked down the residential street.  I watched him as he looked around, surveying the area.  After a while I started to suspect he didn’t have any particular destination in mind; our route seemed too haphazard and impulsive for that.

But then, just as I was about to
call him out, Gavin appeared to spot what he was looking for.

“You know the nicest thing about living in California?” he asked conversationally.

“The weather…?” I wagered.

“Good guess, but not quite.  The best thing is that you can find a yard with a swimming pool in almost any neighborhood.  See?
  I bet there’s one back there.”  He pointed at a darkened house with a high fence at the end of the street.  Then he pulled on my hand.  “Come on.”

“Gavin, what are you doing?” I hissed as he decisively marched me up the front
walk.  “Do you even know the people who live here?”

“Nope, but I can see they’re not home,” he informed me cheerfully.  “Look at that:  overflowing mailbox, no car in the driveway and no lights on inside.  I’d say there’s a pretty good chance we have the place to ourselves.  And I don’t know about you, but I could go for a midnight swim.”

“We can’t go over the fence!” I argued as we approached it.

“You’re right,” Gavin agreed with a grin.  He reached over the top
of the gate and undid the latch on the other side.  “Why climb over when we can walk through?  After you, Ms. Sinclair,” he said, dramatically stepping aside so I could enter.

Something about Gavin’s playful insistence made me comply. 
I walked into the backyard which, sure enough, did boast a swimming pool.  He shut the gate behind us.  Then I turned around and saw he’d already removed his shirt.  The sight of those smooth muscles rippling in the moonlight rendered me momentarily speechless.  Gavin was gorgeous.

“Skinny dipping is sort of like sex,” he announced with a smile when he saw me just standing there staring.  “It’s much more fun to do it with someone
than by yourself.”  He looked at me pointedly and then motioned for me to undress.  “You’re not going to make me do it alone, are you Mina?”

Immediately, I reddened. 

I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d skinny dipped.  I’d probably been a teenager.  I was about to tell him he was crazy but then I looked at the water in the pool.  It looked so inviting, clean and cool and calm.  A swim
would
be nice…and there was something rather thrilling about sneaking into someone’s backyard to skinny dip at midnight. 

It was, after all, nothing more than a little harmless fun.

“Turn around,” I ordered Gavin. 

“Aw come on,” he protested with a grin
as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear.  “Ever hear of reciprocation?  It’s only fair – I mean, I’m cool with giving you a good long look.”

“Yes, but you’re…”  I trailed off then.  I’d been about to tell him he was hot.  That was actually an understatement.  He was a gorgeous specimen of a man whose lean but muscular body looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine. 
But I balked at saying it.

Instead, I focused on my own insecurities.  “You haven’t had a baby.”

With a dramatic shake of his head, Gavin obligingly turned around.  I quickly shed my clothes and, with a splash, jumped into the pool.  The water felt every bit as wonderful as it looked, instantly reinvigorating me.  I let it envelop me right up to my neck and then began to leisurely tread water. 

The next thing I knew,
Gavin did a cannonball into the water right beside me.

Of course, his intent was to get me as wet as he could.

And it worked.

“You’re a liar,” he informed me when he came up for air, his hands immediately encircling my wrists so I couldn’t splash him in retaliation for the cannonball.  I could see the droplets of water dripping off his hair and rolling down his face.  His lips looked so kissable. 

My toes were barely touching the bottom of the pool.  It felt like I was floating.

“What are you talking about?”

“The way you made me turn around while you undressed, I thought you had scales under your clothes or something,” he joked.  “But I’ll admit it:  I peeked.  There, I said it.  And you’re gorgeous, just like I imagined you would be.  Liar!”

“I’m not,” I objected
, thinking immediately of my stretch marks and the fuller, more womanly figure that I sometimes still struggled to get used to.  I wouldn’t trade my son for anything in the world, but pregnancy had not been kind to my body.  I opened my mouth to inform Gavin of just that, but I didn’t have a chance.

Before I could utter another word, he kissed me.
 

The kiss was far steamier than the first innocent peck we’d shared.  Gavin’s lips lingered on mine as his fingers slid into my long dark hair.  Despite being in a swimming pool, I felt heat spread over me like wildfire.  It was like Gavin was gasoline, immediately lighting me ablaze with just one kiss or sometimes, even a look. 

I burned so hot for him it hurt.

As our tongues danced, our bodies were so close they were nearly touching.  Mine was screaming out with desire, begging to feel G
avin’s hands caress all my most sensitive places.  That’s when I remembered we were both naked, the shimmering water the only thin veil we had.

Reluctantly, I pulled back. 

“Don’t worry, no one will see us,” Gavin reassured me.  He sounded as breathless as I felt.  “The fence is high and all the neighbors’ houses are dark.  No one has any idea we’re here.”

“It’s not that,” I replied somewhat apologetically.  Ugh, I didn’t want to have this
talk
.  It was going to ruin the moment and I hadn’t had a moment like this in far too long.  Words seemed so insufficient given what I was feeling.  I just wanted our bodies to do the talking for us.  Oh, the things mine would say to him…

“What is it, then?”

“We shouldn’t do this.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“We could get caught,” I replied at once.  Of course that wasn’t what I was really worried about, but it kept me from having to admit the truth.  I didn’t want Gavin to know how utterly terrified I was of this…of him.  I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. 

“Fine…give me
two
good reasons,” Gavin challenged me, clearly wanting me every bit as badly as I wanted him.  Saying no was hard for me, too.  Turning him down was like sweet torture.  It was like I was on a diet and he was chocolate, tempting and satisfying and completely off limits. 

“
You’re my boss.”

He shrugged.  “I don’t mind if you don’t.”  He stopped then and looked at me…I mean
really
looked at me.  “What is it?” he pressed, sensing there was something I was holding back.  “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Instead of telling him
what was bothering me, I decided to interrogate him.  “How divorced are you?” I demanded, staring him down in a way I hoped would intimidate and command the truth.  “If you’re lying to me I’ll be able to tell so don’t even think about it,” I bluffed.

Gavin looked confused.  “What do you mean?  You’re either divorced or you’re not, right?”

At one time I’d thought that, too.  But I’d since changed my way of thinking.  “You can be a little divorced or a lot divorced,” I insisted, standing my ground.  “Just answer the question.  Are we talking trial separation or open marriage or she’s half-moved out but still gives you blowjobs or…?”

“Oh,” he said as understanding set in.  “Everything was finalized years ago.  She’
s remarried now.  We haven’t even spoken in years.”  Then he chuckled as he thought about what I’d said.  “You have quite the way with words, Mina Sinclair.”

“
This can’t go anywhere,” I cautioned him even as relief washed over me.  “I’m not looking for, you know,
that
right now.  I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.  If we have sex it doesn’t mean we’re together or anything, okay?”

A slow smile spread over Gavin’s handsome face.  “Does that mean you’re considering having sex with me?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
 

Every fiber of my being was tingling with desire.  Gavin was right there in front of me, ready and willing, not to mention drop dead gorgeous.  I wanted him so bad.  Why keep denying myself? 
Just eat the damn chocolate
. 
Just give in and satisfy the craving
.

I nodded. 
“But it’s just sex, nothing more.”

That was all the affirmation he needed.  Eagerly, he pinned me against the side of the pool, his arms on either side of my body.  I wrapped my legs around him, the weightlessness of being submerged in water adding a strange, almost other worldly effect.  I felt his hardness brush against my thigh.  It was reall
y going to happen.  Oh hell yes!

I wrapped my arms around Gavin’s neck
and leaned in close as his hands cupped the curves of my hips.  “Do you have a condom?” I whispered in his ear, eager to get to the main event.

Gavin’s body tensed.  “Dammit,” he muttered.

“Ugh, are you serious?  You don’t?” I asked in disbelief before remembering his declaration that he wasn’t the man-whore everyone thought he was.  Maybe there had been some truth to the claim after all, I marvelled. 

Under different circumstances I would have been quite happy about it, but what happened to guys who carry condoms in their wallets?  Why couldn’t Gavin be one of
those
guys?

“You’re not on…?”

I shook my head.  I’d had no need for birth control since I’d basically cast myself into self-imposed celibacy after things had gone to hell with the professor.  “We can’t,” I said simply, trying to cast the regret out of my voice so Gavin wouldn’t sense my weakness and try to change my mind.  “I won’t risk it.”

Though I had many regrets about my past, motherhood wasn’t one of them.  Some days I felt like the universe was mocking me, yet those brief moments of affection made it all worthwhile.  Ha
ving Joel had been a blessing in disguise.

But I wished the timing could have been different.  Maybe then it wouldn’t have turned my life upside down quite as much.  I wished the father could have been someone else, an honora
ble, responsible man who’d stand by me and his child. 

At least I’d learned from my mistakes.  I wasn’t about to make the same ones again.

Gavin looked as disappointed as I felt, but only momentarily.  Though he didn’t try to be persuasive or talk his way inside me like some of the guys I’d known over the years, he didn’t let go of me either.  “There are other things we can do,” he whispered before kissing me again.  His mouth was hungry for me, the kisses needful and urgent. 

It was plain to see the effect I was having on him.
  And my stomach felt like it was full of butterflies.  Being so close to Gavin and feeling his skin against mine was more than I could withstand.  I was starving for him.

I let go of
his neck and swam away.

“Mina?” Gavin asked uncertainly, following me.

Wordlessly, I hopped up on the side of the pool.  I chose a spot where the water was shallower and Gavin was submerged only up to his waist.  That served two purposes.  One, it made it easier to reach his cock.  Two, it gave me a very nice view.  Some might say all that wet, naked flesh and those rippling muscles were a feast for the eyes.  And my stomach was growling.

T
hen there was that magnificent cock sticking out of the water obscenely like Poseidon, God of the Sea’s scepter itself.  It was bigger than I’d imagined and very, very hard.  I licked my lips in longing, wishing I could feel it inside me.

With my legs on either side of Gavin and my toes dangling in the water, I leaned forward so I could reach his manhood.  Immediately, Gavin captured one of my erect nipples in his mouth. 
Biting gently on the rubbery pink morsel, he flicked his tongue against its tender tip causing it to grow even harder. 

Gavin’s
cock was stiff and ready, throbbing with desire.  Experimentally, I stroked the tip, enjoying the way his breath caught in his throat.  Next I closed my fist around the veiny shaft, gentle and firm all at once.  Then I moved my hand up and down in a rhythmic motion, blatantly mimicking the sex act.

All the while, I wished his rock hard thickness could be inside me.  We always lust the most over wh
at we can’t have, don’t we?  It’s so unfair.

Hand jobs seemed juvenile, somehow.  They were what I’d do back when I was a teenager and wanted to fool around without going All The Way.  But then sneaking into somebody’s backyard and skinny dipping in their pool is the epitome of juvenile, isn’t it?  Maybe the hand job was appropriate given the circumstances. 

And besides, I’d always thought there was something empowering about holding a man in your hand.  With your fist wrapped around his throbbing erection, you control his pleasure.  He can beg and thrust and hump and try to take charge, but he’s not the one who gets a say.  You are.  You and you alone decide when and how he cums.