| |
Emma had been to Carlo’s home a number of times, but usually for outdoor events in the garden that he’d taken such care to landscape into a veritable oasis. She hadn’t really been inside the mobile home that many times. Not that at a first glance you could tell it was a mobile home since it looked like a large ranch thanks to the landscaping and care he’d taken to give it curb appeal.
The home was located just half a block from the beach and was a wonderful location which at one time had been occupied by a big old Victorian. Carlo’s neighbors, an older couple whose family had been in Sea Kiss for generations, had told her during a summer barbecue party that the original building had burned almost to the ground one winter night due to a problem with a furnace. Fire was the one thing many people in town feared thanks to the old Victorians. Behind the lathe and plaster there were no stops to prevent fire from shooting up inside the walls. Due to its age, the wood in the old buildings was so dry that it was like kindling, adding to the fire risk.
Luckily the family living in the home at the time had survived, but they’d decided to sell the property and a structure that was beyond repair. According to the neighbors, Carlo had gotten a deal on the land in exchange for having to clear it since the owners hadn’t wanted to do that. They also hadn’t wanted to sell the property to one of the developers in the area. They’d wanted someone who planned on living in Sea Kiss full time and not just rich summer people who would build a fancy home that stood empty for most of the year.
Like Carlo had lived there for close to a decade and planned to do for quite some time. She knew he wanted to eventually build a Victorian style home for the family he hoped to have one day. A family with a child like the one she’d pictured during her daydreams, with reddish brown hair and hazel-green eyes. Blush-free olive skin. Her heart hurt with the idea of that child. With the promise of what could be if she dared to believe she was good enough for a wonderful man like Carlo.
She raised her hand and held it up an inch from the door, hesitating because she knew once she stepped inside, there was no going back on this journey. But before she could knock, the door flew open and Carlo stood there, his big shoulders nearly filling the doorway and an expectant little boy grin on his face.
“Come on in. It’s cold out there,” he said and as if to prove it, a biting wind swept up the block from the ocean and swirled around them, causing her to shiver.
She stepped into house and for the first time the home had a chance to really speak about the person who lived there. It was meticulously neat, not unlike how Carlo insisted his business be kept. At one end of the open space was a living room set up with a large screen television on the far wall. The windows in the room faced the street and Carlo’s lovely gardens. Curtains in deep navy bracketed the windows and contrasted with the pale yellow of the walls. A large ornately carved wooden cross was hung between two of the windows. On the opposite wall, the space between the windows had a collection of frames with family photos and one of the two of them. Even in the dark of a winter night the space created a feeling of welcome.
On the opposite side of the room was a kitchen with lovely cherry cabinets and a multi-burner range perfect for a chef like Carlo. A trio of pots sat on the stove, low flames beneath keeping the contents warm. Enticing smells wafted from there to where she stood. Beyond the kitchen was a hallway that she assumed led to his bedroom.
Between the kitchen and living room was a small dining table that had been set with fine china, crystal, silver, and a delicate centerpiece of roses, miniature carnations, and lisianthus in various shades of pink and purple. At one side of the centerpiece was a pink taper candle waiting to be lit.
“It’s beautiful,” she said and he gestured toward the living room. She slipped out of her coat as she walked there and handed it to him.
“Thank you. It’s home,” he said, almost apologetically and took her coat from her.
“It’s lovely,” she said to reassure him, sensing that he really needed her approval.
He smiled and dipped his head to acknowledge her comment. “Thanks again. Can I get you something to drink? Wine? I just opened a bottle of cab franc.”
“I’d like that,” she said as she sat on the couch.
He walked back past the kitchen and to a hall closet where he hung her coat before returning to the narrow breakfast bar in the kitchen. He poured two glasses of wine and as he sauntered back to the living room, she took a moment to appreciate that he’d dressed up for their dinner date. He wore a blue striped button-down shirt that hugged the powerful lines of his shoulders and chest but hung loose around his lean midsection. Faded jeans lovingly embraced his muscled legs.
He handed her the wine and took a seat beside her on the couch. Raising the glass, he said, “To a lovely night.”
She met his gaze over the rim of her glass. His gaze was intense, but hesitant, as if he was unsure of just what tonight would be about. But she wanted him to know she was ready to take the next step with him. “To a lovely night,” she said with a welcoming smile, clinked her glass against his, and took a sip.
“Delicious,” she said. “I’m looking forward to what you’ve got cooking. It smells wonderful.”
“I slaved all day on it,” he said in a teasing tone, but she sensed that he had spent considerable time in preparing the meal. It was just the way he was. Thoughtful. Hard-working. Caring. Responsible. Loving, she thought as she glanced at him again and noted the way he was looking at her.
“I know it’s going to be wonderful,” she said because well, it was Carlo making it and he never did anything halfway. Which made her wonder whether he’d make love the same way, with such caring, loving, and thoughtfulness. Determination. Warmth built inside her at the thought and she took another sip of the wine, but her hand trembled as she did so.
“I hope so, Emma,” he said and she realized he was as nervous as she. Bolstered by that, she laid a hand on his knee and said, “Relax, Carlo. I’m sure everything is going to be perfect.”
He covered her hand with his and squeezed it. “It’s nice to have you here for more than just a quick visit. It’s weird that’s never happened before.”
“It is, but we’re both work-a-holics remember? I’m glad we’re here now and changing what happened before. Maybe even for the future.” And because she needed not only to make it clear to him that she was ready to move on, but reinforce that decision for herself, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his lips. As she went to move away, he cradled her cheek and kept her near, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue along her lower lip and a gentle bite that urged her to open for him.
She moaned as he tasted her. Moved his mouth against hers, his kiss rousing and yet gentle. Enticing the way good food made you take a taste and then want more.
She was breathless, almost lightheaded, when he moved, barely an inch away. His warm breath bathed her lips as he said, “Maybe we should get started on dinner.”
“Definitely,” she said because if they kept on kissing, she was sure the meal he’d spent so much time on might not ever get eaten.
He slowly rose from the couch and held out his hand to her. She slipped it into his and stood. She followed him to the dining room table that she no longer thought of as small, but as intimate. There was no way she could sit there and not be aware of him.
He pulled out the chair for her, ever the gentleman, and she sat. Laid her glass on the table and focused on him as he ambled to the stove and checked the heat on the pots. He pulled off the lids to check them, letting the fragrances of their contents scent the air. Her mouth watered at the deliciousness of the aromas wafting from the kitchen.
Bending, he yanked open the oven and pulled out a tray. It clattered on the granite as he laid it there and then scooped off something onto waiting plates. After he moved a sauté pan off the stove, lifted it, and drizzled something onto the dishes.
He hurried over and placed one serving before her and another before himself. Asparagus wrapped in Serrano ham was grilled and drizzled with a balsamic reduction and roasted figs.
“This looks amazing,” she said.
He picked up his knife and fork and said, “Bon appetit.”
Her stomach did a little rumble and she dug into the appetizer. The asparagus was earthy, but a perfect foil to the saltiness of the cured ham and sweetness of the balsamic vinegar and figs. She laid a hand against her mouth and said, “OMG, this is fabulous.”
A wry smile quirked his lips. “I’m glad you like it. I have to confess I love any excuse to use figs and Serrano ham together.”
“Well, it works,” she said and polished off the rest of the dish so fast, she was embarrassed at her gluttony. “I’m sorry, but this was so good.”
“No problema. Excuse me while I finish up the paella.” He rose, cleared off the plates, and walked back to the range. In seconds he was taking something else from the stove and dishing assorted things from the pots.
“Can I help with anything?” she said, feeling a little guilty to just be sitting there.
“Nope. It’s all good,” he said and in no time he was returning to the table with the dinner plates.
Her mouth watered again at the fragrant aromas and the sight of the wonderfully elegant presentation. A beautiful heap of rice with the crusty crispy socarrat bottom off to one side. Perfectly grilled scallops, shrimp, and half a lobster tail were nestled on top of the rice along with bits of browned chicken, colorful chorizo sausage, roasted peppers, and peas.
“It definitely looks all good,” she said. She forked up some scallop, chorizo, and rice first and the flavors exploded in her mouth. The chorizo was smoky sweet and the rice had the earthiness of the saffron, but it was balanced enough not to overwhelm the delicate flavor of the scallops. A moan of satisfaction escaped her and she covered her mouth with her hand and heat burst across her face.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just amazingly delicious.”
***
CARLO NEARLY CHOKED on his food at the sound of her moan because all he could imagine was her making that sexy sound as he made love to her. Coughing to clear his throat, he said, “Glad you like it.”
“I love it,” she said and buried her face in her meal, but it wasn’t enough to hide the flush of color on her cheeks. Once again, his mind went to sex and how that delightful flush would paint her beautiful body with color.
He hardened and forced himself to focus on dinner. He even reconsidered that maybe he shouldn’t have chosen foods that included some known aphrodisiacs because he clearly didn’t need any help to get hot and needy. Trying to distract himself from what might have been ill-advised menu choices, he said, “Have you heard from Connie at all?”
Emma grinned and chuckled. “She’s on her honeymoon, Carlo. I think she’s probably got better things to do than to text me,” she said, and more color flooded across her cheeks, probably at the thought of what her friend might be doing. What he hoped they might be doing later.
“Yeah, probably. Maggie and Tracy doing okay?” He knew how important her friends were to her.
Emma was mid-chew, but after she swallowed, she said, “Maggie’s busy with all the last-minute holiday events at her store and prepping for spring. Tracy . . .” She paused and sighed. “I worry about Tracy.”
And he worried about Paolo being interested in Tracy. “What’s up with her?”
“She’s moving to Sea Kiss,” she said and forked up a bit of the lobster tail.
Great, he thought. Not. “I guess you’re happy about that,” he said, but it was unfortunately obvious he wasn’t.
Emma stopped eating and peered at him. “She’s not a bad person, just a little . . . confused. She was always in love with being in love and because of that she made a big mistake.”
“I’ll say. It didn’t take a genius to see he was a shit,” Carlo said and regretted it again immediately. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to judge.”
“It’s okay. Just promise me you’ll try to give her a chance. See the real Tracy we all love,” she said and laid a hand across her heart to emphasize it.
“For you I’d do anything,” he said and meant it without hesitation despite his concerns with Paolo’s interest in the older woman.
Emma glanced at him, her gaze thoughtful, as if considering if he was truly serious. Seeming to realize that he was, she nodded and said, “I appreciate that.”
He’d wanted to change the topic, but not go to such a negative place. This was supposed to be the night where things might move forward. Since they’d almost finished their meals, he said, “I’m glad you could come tonight.”
“I’m glad too. It’s nice to finally get to spend some time with you in your home,” she said and forked up the last little bit of her rice. “This was delicious. Was there something besides saffron in the rice?”
He nodded. “A little bit of chili and paprika to add more pop to the flavor.”
“It totally worked.” Then, as if a light bulb went off in her head, she added, “Those are all aphrodisiacs, aren’t they? So’s the seafood.”
“A guy has to do what a guy has to do,” he said with a shrug and an unrepentant smile.
She laughed and with the sexy smile of a temptress, replied, “Totally not necessary.”
The words exploded from his mouth, “Caralho, Emma.” But he was determined not to rush the seduction he’d planned so carefully. Shooting for a more lighthearted tone, he said, “I wish I’d known before I worked so hard on dessert.”
She chuckled again and shook her head. “I can’t wait to taste it. I’m sure it will be . . . tantalizing.” She lifted her glass, her hand slightly unsteady and he picked up his glass and tapped it to hers.
“I hope not to disappoint,” he said. “Why don’t we have dessert over on the couch?”
Glancing back toward the sofa, and maybe thinking about where it might lead, she nevertheless said, “I like that idea.”
“Go get comfortable and I’ll bring the dessert over in a minute.”
“I can’t wait to see what it will be,” she said.
