The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley) (8 page)

Running meant fear. He knew because the same restlessness raced through his blood.

Along with lust and curiosity and a whole bunch of other uncomfortable emotions.

“I didn’t realize how deep things ran between you two,” Rhett drawled, settling a hand on his shoulder. Fixated on Elizabeth, Terrance hadn’t even heard his approach.

Terrance took the bourbon his friend shoved at him and downed it in one swallow. “Leave it alone.”

His friend’s sigh was long-suffering. “You know how much I love her, and God knows you and I have been friends quite a spell. Just be careful. She’s more tender-hearted than she lets on, and even though you’re a tough guy like the rest of us, I have a feeling the right woman turns you into pudding on the inside.”

No one used more colorful language than Rhett, and Terrance couldn’t help but smile. “Pudding? Never been fond of the stuff.”

“You know what I mean.”

Terrance’s eyes were still pinned to Elizabeth. Her movements were less bold and assertive now, he realized. Perhaps the hooker heels had given her hips a more pronounced sway, or she’d been hamming up her role. Either way, there was still a sensual rhythm to her movements, but it was all her.

“She’s more beautiful as herself than I ever imagined,” he told Rhett, not fearing anyone would overhear them in the corner of the restaurant.

“You never saw her in her…all together?” his friend asked in shock.

Laughter tickled the back of his throat. “I saw her naked plenty, but never without her makeup on.” Naked, her beauty had stolen his breath, and his blood beat hot at the thought of seeing all of that curvy, soft flesh again. “I didn’t even realize she wore a wig. Explains why she told me not to touch her hair.”

“Shit.”

“Shit is right.” Terrance withdrew a hundred and waved it in front of Rhett’s face. “Giving up swearing is an expensive proposition.”

“I should start charging myself per word too. Dustin needs a good role model, even though my mouth is as pristine as white sheets on a clothesline compared to what it used to be.”

Terrance handed him a hundred. “Here’s my donation to your Cuss Fund. You can pick your favorite charity.”

“What’s yours?” Rhett asked as one of Terrance’s hand-picked servers stopped and offered them some of the excellent chocolate chip cookies they’d baked as a nod to Dare Valley’s small town community.

Terrance and his staff had chuckled about baking something so simple and wholesome, but it was Matt’s favorite, and the secret to catering events was catering to the hosts’ taste. The cookies were moist, the chocolate decadent—as only a special dark chocolate from Belgium could be—and the hint of coconut oil instead of butter set them apart. Terrance made everything with his special touch, even chocolate chip cookies.

“The Children’s Aid Society in New York,” he said.

“Sounds nice. I’ll probably donate it to a charity that helps women who’ve experienced violence.”

“That’s a great cause.”

As a kid, Terrance had seen plenty of defenseless women get preyed upon. As a teenager, he’d started intervening. He might be a violent man—he’d been told as much—but he abhorred violence against women.

And it made him wonder for the hundredth time what Elizabeth had been scared of the other night.

“Why does Elizabeth keep a baseball bat by her front door?” he asked his friend.

Rhett’s mouth turned grim. “I’ll let her tell you that, but it’s another reason for you to take care with her.”

That comment punched into his system, like a bruising upper cut to the jaw. And he wondered again if she’d run from him because of his fight with that asshole poker player who’d disrespected her and put his hands on her. It made more sense now. She’d been hurt before, and God help him, the anger and rage that rose inside him at the thought of
anyone
hurting her only confirmed what he already knew.

He had to be with her again.

Yes, they would have to wade through the old anger and mistrust, but he wanted her, needed her. He was old enough to stop questioning why.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised.

Rhett waved at Mac, who was talking with his wife, Peggy, by the bar. “Not too long ago, Mac and I had the same conversation about Abbie. I’ll tell you the same thing he told me. We’ll always be friends, regardless of what happens between you two.”

This time Terrance slapped him on the back. “I appreciate that, man. Time for me to make my move.”

The center of his attraction broke away from her group and headed to the bathroom. He increased his pace, and when she reached the hallway, he snagged her arm and pulled her into the empty side room, where his staff kept their things.

“Hi,” he said softly, seeing the pulse pound in her neck. “We haven’t talked yet.”

“You’re not interested in talking,” she told him in a flat tone.

“Now that’s not true. I talk with you more than I’ve ever talked to a woman.”

As if she’d been holding her breath, it expelled in a rush, and he felt it across every inch of his skin.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Vulnerability shone in her eyes. “More so than Vixen?”

He finally touched her, pushing a strand of her blond hair back from her face. “Yes. But in a different way. You’re more approachable like this.”

“You never had any trouble
approaching
me before.”

Going for honesty, he stroked her cheek. “When I first met you, I didn’t expect much more than hot sex. And then—”

“We talked,” she finished for him. “I know. I didn’t expect anything more either.”

“I guess that’s why we both ended up being surprised with each other. Elizabeth, I still want you.”

She swallowed but said nothing.

“I want you.
Again.”

“Is that all?” she quipped, looking over his shoulder, her body heat calling to him like a hearth fire in a snowstorm.

“Why are you fighting it? Yes, we have some shit to sort through, but we still know how to talk to each other, and God knows there’s plenty of heat between us.”

Her mouth quirked up. “Made you swear.” It was said like a gloat.

“You’re costing me a fortune,” he admitted. “This torture has to end, Elizabeth.”

She pushed against his chest, and he stepped back. “I’m not so sure. It’s not going to be just about sex if we get together, Terrance.”

“It wasn’t before,” he admitted. “Is that why you left without saying goodbye?”

Her hand rested on the doorknob. “I had my reasons. Anyway, if I hadn’t ended it, you would have. Eventually. I wish you’d stop being angry about it.”

“Don’t fucking tell me how I should feel.”

His angry words seemed to shake the air between them, making her shiver.

“I need to get back,” she said and opened the door.

Taking out two hundred dollars, he deposited the bills in his pocket and stood there for ten seconds before following her.

As he headed toward Elizabeth, Natalie stepped into his path.
“Chef T.”

“You’re not going to stop me from getting to her,” he told her.

She studied him and braced her hands on her hips. “I am tonight.”

His eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Elizabeth now stood, surrounded again by Natalie’s sisters and Jane, whose gaze held a clear warning.

“Fine. I don’t want to ruin the party, but you can tell her that this isn’t over.”

His gaze clashed with Elizabeth’s. Her pulse still beat strong in her throat. He let his mouth curve to convey he was only slightly amused.

“I’m not your messenger. You can tell her yourself,” Natalie said. Then her gaze caught on someone or something to the right, and her face seemed to freeze.

He looked over. A distinguished man with silver hair in a suit stood on the outskirts of the party. A man came up and hugged him, joined by a young boy.

“Who is he?” he asked.

She shook herself and regained her composure. “My father. We didn’t know he was coming tonight. He had a surgery scheduled.”

Her sisters locked arms and went over, leaving Elizabeth to wander over to the Mavens and the Butlers. He kept his eyes on the Hales. Natalie’s sisters awkwardly hugged their father. He realized the other man was their brother, and the kid could only be his son. The family resemblance was unmistakable. Then Matt Hale came over with Jane, and the tense family greeting continued.

“I don’t want to keep you,” he said, wondering what the older man had done to create such a rift between him and his children. Terrance didn’t know much about the Hales, but he knew they were close.

Her smile had teeth. “Please do. In fact, why don’t I introduce you to my mother? She won’t admit it, but she’d appreciate a little moral support tonight. It’s the first time she’s seen my dad since she left him in the fall.”

Now he had a good picture in his mind.

“I’d enjoy meeting her, and since you’re both from Dare Valley, you can tell me what you think this place’s perfect ingredient is. I love to hear about what a place has to offer and how I might use it in my cooking.” Her suggestion to add the honeycomb from a local Dare Valley producer to the dessert on his new menu only made him want to hear what else she had to offer him.

The sparkle returned to her eyes. “That would be fresh-picked huckleberries from the mountains. My mom used to make them into jam, but our neighbor used them on venison. I felt bad for Bambi, but I pretty much gobbled it up.”

Huckleberries.

“Do they taste like blueberries?” he asked, feeling that familiar excitement. “I had some in New Hampshire once.”

“No, ours here in the Rockies are different. They’re ruby red and translucent. Tastier. I’ve had ones both sweet and tart. Their flavor is intense because they grow in the wild.”

“When can you pick them?”

She threaded her arm through his and led him in the opposite direction of the woman who was captivating his thoughts. “July. I know a place in the mountains. If you’d like, I’ll take you, but you have to cook for me.”

“Deal.”

His heart started to beat faster like it always did when he learned about a possible new contender, but he couldn’t stop from looking back over his shoulder at Elizabeth.

His pulse tripled, and for a minute he forgot about the huckleberries. He cursed under his breath and drew out another hundred.

Natalie only raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to lose all your money if you continue on like this.”

“I have plenty of money,” he growled.

When they arrived at the table clustered with people in their golden years, he had no trouble picking out Natalie’s mother. She had the same lovely cheekbones as her daughter.

“Mom, this is Chef T.”

When he took April’s hand, he made sure to hold it while he talked to her. Even he could see the valiant effort she was making not to look past him at her estranged husband.

“It’s good to meet you. We’re big fans of your show.”

“Please call me Terrance. Natalie was just telling me about your huckleberry jam. I’m always looking for what a place has to offer. Huckleberries sound like just the thing for me to use on our summer menu.”

“The huckleberries around here are quite special,” she said. Her hand was relaxing now, so he finally let go.

“And let me introduce you to my wonderful uncle, Arthur Hale, and some of Matt’s incredible campaign volunteers.”

The trio of older woman looked like they ate Charlotte Royale for dessert every day with rose hip tea. He was charmed since he didn’t have contact with any of his own elderly relatives. His mother had burned every bridge to her family with her drug habit.

“It’s great to meet everyone. I hope you enjoyed the food.”

“Especially the chocolate chip cookies,” Joanie said, “but there was something a little different about them. In a good way, of course.”

Ah, she was too cute with her round face and soft hair. “I used coconut oil instead of butter.”

Arthur snorted. “Something wrong with butter?”

Natalie put her hand on his arm like she was trying to soften her uncle’s bluster. “Uncle Arthur likes to complain about Jill’s coffee, especially the ones he insists are crazy concoctions, like her raspberry mocha latte.”

Her uncle crossed his arms, his intelligent blue gaze raking over Terrance. “If people want to have dessert, why don’t they eat it instead of drinking it?”

Terrance felt his mouth twitch. “People eat the darndest things. Now me, I’m the kind of guy who will try anything once.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Arthur said.

Joanie hit him gently. “Oh, ignore him. He’s all bluster. What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten, Terrance?”

There were many, so he picked the first one that came to mind. “Grasshoppers. They’re considered a delicacy in the Congo.”

All of the women shivered.

Arthur snorted. “And what did you expect them to taste like? A steak?”

Laughter shook his chest. “I guess it’s like climbing a mountain. If it’s in front of me, I’m going to give it a go.”

“You’re braver than I am,” April said. “And speaking of being brave, it’s time I say hello to my hus…my ex-husband.”

Arthur stood with her and took her arm. “We’ll both go say hello to that moron.”

“Now, Arthur…” she said as they walked away.

The frown on Natalie’s face spoke volumes. “I supposed I should go too. It was good to see you, Chef T.”

“Please call me Terrance. If you’re going to keep me away from Elizabeth, you might as well use my full name. Not too many people have the balls to get between me and what I want.”

She laughed like he’d hoped. “Ask my siblings. I have balls as big as any man.”

As she walked away, he headed to the kitchen, the only place on earth he had ever felt at home until waking up in Elizabeth’s arms.

Chapter 9

Even though her two brothers had plenty of space in their houses, Natalie and her sisters always stayed with their mom when they were visiting Dare Valley. The older house where April lived certainly wasn’t grand, but its contents felt delightfully familiar, like the music box resting on the mantle. Natalie used to crank it on snowy days, twirling the models around to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” from her favorite childhood movie,
The Wizard of Oz.