Take Me Home Tonight (18 page)

Calix pulled out a glass container of the leftover gnocchi she'd made for dinner the night before.

“Hey, that's mine.” Lee got up and tried to snatch it out of her brother's hands. He just laughed and held it over her head. “She brought that over for me.”

“Uh-huh.” He shoved it in the microwave.

“You make that from scratch?” Jo asked.

Mimi nodded. “It's one of my nonna's recipes.”

Calix popped the door open before the gnocchi could heat through. Stabbing one with a fork, he shoved it in his mouth. “Damn, this is good.” He leaned against the counter, long legs crossed in front of him.

Done with the computer, Jo sat back in her chair. “So, here's my suggestion. I'd have comfort food. That's what I get from looking at those pictures and hearing you talk about them. Make it a homemade kind of event, a buffet. Mac and cheese, brioche rolls, slow-cooked tenderloin, stuff like that.”

“I like it.”

“Where's the magic in mac and cheese?” Lee said.

“The magic's in the mood, babe.” Jo's chair scraped back as she got up. “The décor. And that's what you should be thinking about. Let Mimi take care of the food—that's what she's good at.”

She was? Mimi felt ridiculously happy to hear Jo's confidence in her.

But at the same time she couldn't help thinking about her dad. It was so easy for this family to jump in and support her. Spend all this time helping her. But her own father couldn't?

“Hey, Ma. Got a question.” Calix set the gnocchi down. “Since we went over the five ingredients yesterday, I thought today we'd give her a challenge that'll make her use them.”

“Okay. You got any ideas?” Jo asked.

“Not really. Do you?” Calix seemed to hold his breath, all his hope for his family tied up in his mom's interest in coming back to the kitchen.

And Mimi could see how much Jo wanted to please her children. But she could also see a woman who desperately needed to be left alone. And unless Mimi was reading this all wrong, no one was letting Jo grieve in her own way, in her own time. Trying to please her family was possibly draining her of whatever energy she had left.

And suddenly this whole plan felt very wrong.

“Yeah, sure,” Jo said. “I can help.”

For one moment, Calix just stood there, his vulnerability as clear as a little boy's. “Great. Let's do this.” He stepped
aside as his mom leaned into the refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients.

He came up behind Mimi, giving her hip a hard squeeze. She smiled, refusing to take away from his moment of victory.

And that's when she remembered the note. She handed it to him.

He opened it, read it, and then his features bloomed into a genuine and unfettered smile. It was beautiful.

Needing to help Jo, she started to pull away, but he took both her shoulders, turned her toward him, and planted a hard kiss on her mouth.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight,” she whispered.

*   *   *

Lying
side by side, gazing up at a sky full of glittering stars, they held hands.

He makes it so damn hard for me to hold back.

He'd shown up at the farm with his hair still damp from a shower and a box of homemade truffles and driven her out to the lighthouse in Montauk. Since the park closed at four thirty in May, they'd parked along the side of the dark road and walked in with their blanket and picnic basket.

For a guy who didn't date, Calix had created an award-winning one.

But hope was a dangerously compelling drug. The naïve girl in her was jumping up and down on her bed, screaming into a pillow.
He's totally into me!
But the experienced woman warned her that he could only give so much before turning back into Mr. Stoic.

She didn't come first.

Unless . . . maybe this date meant they were past that now?

Stop worrying about it and just be here now.

With the taste of dark chocolate still on her tongue and the steady crash of waves as background music, Mimi rolled to her side to face him.

“So, why homeschooling? Why not public school?” His family seemed isolated enough on all that land. She'd think his parents would want to socialize their kids.

He turned toward her with a mischievous smile. “Oh, I started out in public school. It lasted until second grade.”

“Ah, so the deviant behavior started way back then, huh?”

“How do you know it wasn't my superpowers that set me apart?”

“Ooh, I love a man with superpowers. Especially if he's like Captain Marvel. I always wanted to date a dude with the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Hercules, the stamina of Atlas, the power of Zeus, the courage of Achilles, and the speed of Mercury. Please tell me that's your real identity?”

“Thanks, Meems. Way to emasculate a guy.”

“Oh, don't worry. You've got a superpower. Believe me, I've seen it.”

“Yeah?” He made a show of adjusting his dick. “Is that why you went out with me? To get some of this superpower?”

When he smiled like that, the dimples bracketing his mouth came out. And made her go all gooey inside.

Can I kiss him yet?

“Okay, Shazam. Settle down. Back to the homeschooling story.”

“I think you can guess why. Shit my parents saw.” He paused. “They lived hard and fast, and bad things happened. They wanted a safer world for us.”

“By bad things, do you mean sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll?”

“Sure, but it's easy to put that stamp on it. The reality, though . . . the reality's they lost their friends to overdoses, AIDS, all kinds of shit. I think the worst, though, was the bus crash.” He looked at her, as if asking whether she knew about it.

She didn't.

“Happened back in 'ninety-two. One of their tour buses ran off the road. Four roadies and their manager died.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah. Up until that, they'd had bad experiences. Accountants taking advantage of them, betrayals, a close friend OD'ing. But the crash, that was it for my mom. She wanted out. A clean slate. They moved out here and basically reinvented themselves.”

“And created this world for their children to grow up in.”

“Exactly.”

God, and then she'd lost her boy. But Mimi didn't want to darken their date, so she steered the conversation in a different direction. “I wanted a big family like yours. You know how when you're little and you blow out the candles on your birthday cake? And your parents are all, ‘Make it a good one, make it matter'?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his thigh. “No. In my family we don't make wishes. We make shit happen.”

“Is that on the Bourbon family crest?”

“If we had one, it would be.” Another of his toe-curling smiles. “So what was your wish? Unless you can't tell me because if you do, it won't happen.”

“It's too late for that. It already didn't happen.”

“What'd you wish for?” He rolled onto his side, tucking an arm under his head.

“I'd close my eyes and wish with all my might for a big, happy family. That's all I wanted. Every time I went to the playground, I'd spend more time watching other families than playing. Or at the beach, I'd be building a sandcastle with my mom or my nanny, and all around me kids were playing together, fighting, crying. But they had each other, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.” His voice whispered across her skin like a caress.

“I remember being on my perfectly clean beach blanket with my little take-out containers from Mirabelle's. And next to us was this huge encampment, a couple of moms and all their kids. One kid cried because he had sand in his sandwich, another squirted her juice box at everyone, making kids scatter and moms yell. And I was so freaking jealous. I just wanted to be in the middle of that chaos, because I imagined that when they got home, they'd curl up on the couch together and watch a movie, sharing popcorn, getting into bed with each other and telling secrets. I hated going to bed. Hated it. I'd be all alone in my bedroom with a head full of thoughts I was dying to share.”

“You seem tight with your mom.”

“We're close now. But I think she spent too many years trying to figure out her place in the world. She married my dad right out of college and got pregnant right away. She never got a career going. As soon as I started school, she had all this time to fill. Lunches and tennis, that wasn't her thing. So she joined boards and committees, trying to fill the void. But I guess she didn't figure out until later that, once you get locked into those roles, they become all-consuming. And I think she felt pretty crappy about it since she'd wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. She was just all kinds of unhappy. And, you know, she wasn't home much. My dad wasn't either, so it was just really, incredibly lonely.”

The pity in his eyes made her regret going off like that. “Am I an awesome date or what?” She smiled. “I think I'm supposed to show you how I can tie a knot in the stem of a cherry with my tongue.”

“I never got that one. Is the message that she can do the same thing with my dick?”

“Nobody ties Shazam's dick in a knot.”

“See, right there? You give good date conversation.” He reached for a lock of hair that spilled across her cheek and tucked it back behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on the shell. “I like talking to you.”

Her skin hummed under his gentle touch. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“I like you.”

She could not get over how gorgeous this man was. “Yeah?”

Eyes bright and intense, he looked as if his whole body vibrated with emotion. “It's been a hard three years, and I've been holding on so tight. But then you come along and give me a different spin on things. Part of me wants to stick with what I've been doing because I'm so fucking scared my mom's gonna knock back another bottle of sleeping pills. But the other part of me . . .” He let out a breath. “I know it's not working. I see her face when I make her come inside for dinner.” He closed his eyes. “I didn't get it before, but you're right. It's
not
working. Family dinners and all that aren't making her feel loved. It's making her sneak around. I've been going about it all wrong.”

“No, you haven't. You've tried one thing, and it's not working. So now you can try something different.” She cupped his cheek, caressing his chin with her thumb. “She knows you love her.”

“What if I try something different and it doesn't work?”

“Have you guys seen a therapist? Maybe it would help to talk to someone.”

One side of his mouth curled into a wry smile. “Bourbons don't roll like that.”

“Okay, then, have you at least talked to your mom?”

He had this dismissive expression, like she was crazy, and it made her laugh. “It never once occurred to you to ask your mom how she feels?”

“She doesn't want to talk about it.”

“Men.” She made a show of rolling her eyes. “All your worries could be put to rest if you just talked to her. Ask her what she wants. Tell her your concerns, and let her address them.”

“You're so beautiful, Mimi Romano.”

“Are we talking about my mouth again?”

“No. I meant in here.” He pressed his palm to her heart. “So fucking beautiful.”

The heated look he gave her filled her with want. And then he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and drew her close, giving her the softest, sweetest kiss. The slow tangle of his tongue, the wet heat of his mouth . . . it was beautiful.

She ran her fingers through his chin whiskers and up his jaw until they sifted through his long, silky hair. He pushed closer to her, his body hot and hard, his kiss voluptuous.

His hand slipped under her shirt, gliding up her stomach to her breast, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. With a thrust of his hips, his erection hit her stomach. Lust speared through her, and she hooked a leg over his, binding their bodies together.

His hand pulled out of her shirt, slid around to her ass, and cupped it hard. “Jesus, Mimi.” His deep voice sounded rough as he squeezed her. “I gotta have you.”

When he came to the button of her jeans, he looked at her, asking permission, and she found his mouth again, giving it
to him. The moment he had her jeans unzipped, his hand pushed down, cupping between her legs. She moaned, rocking into him. His finger stroked lightly over her underpants, and when he touched her clit, she gasped at the shower of fiery sparks.

With each flick over her sensitive nub, electricity pulsed through her. She needed more. She kissed him with her whole body, hands in his hair, leg hooked around his thigh, drawing him against her, tongue slow dancing with his. God, she was burning up, her legs trembling. His arm between them kept his erection from her, and she was going out of her mind with the need to feel him.

She pushed between their straining bodies, running the heel of her palm up his very hard length. He pulled his mouth off hers. “Fuck.” He dove back in for a kiss, taking her bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it, as his hand shoved under the elastic of her panties and his finger found her slick heat.

Her back arched, and she gasped as he swirled around her nub. God, oh, God, she was writhing against him, the pleasure so intense. She couldn't—oh, God—“Calix.” Her body clenched and then a moment later burst in pure sensual release. His strokes didn't let up, and she kept cresting and peaking—
oh, yes
—until she shuddered and collapsed against him. “Oh, my God.” She'd need a moment to catch her breath after that.

And, God, he smelled so good. She breathed in the distinctive scent of his skin and clean cotton of his T-shirt. She started to pull away, but he tightened his hold, grinding his erection into her stomach. She smiled into his neck when she remembered his fantasy.