Authors: Kate Perry
“
Good morning,” she said
when he let her up for breath.
“
Morning, baby.” He rolled
them over so he was on top. Holding her hands out to the side, he
bent to take her nipple into his mouth.
She gasped and arched up.
He rubbed his nose against the inside
slope of her breast and then bit her stomach, working his way down.
He worked her into a frenzy before he slid all the way into her,
hard and hot, over and over until they both screamed in
release.
“
From now on, you’re my
wake up call,” he mumbled into her neck afterward.
She tightened her arms around him.
“It’s a deal.”
Chapter Twenty-four
As Margaret smiled at one of her
customers, the business phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID.
Recognizing the number, she let it go to voicemail. Treat had been
trying to reach her incessantly for the past couple days, but she
couldn’t bring herself to face him.
He knew
.
That was ridiculous. She lifted her
hand to her necklace, touching the smooth, cool pearls. The only
thing he knew was that she had animosity for the girl. To act out
like that was completely against the way she’d normally
act.
She hadn’t been acting like
herself.
She put a hand to her forehand. She
felt feverish on the inside, but there was no evidence of it on the
surface. If she looked in the mirror, her face would look as blank
as always. Her cheeks would be pale, and her eyes would look
dead.
On the inside she was
seething.
She felt wild. Reckless.
So reckless she was tempted to call
Grant again. She could ask him to go for a walk with her, or maybe
she’d let him take her out to lunch.
But she couldn’t, for so many
reasons.
“
Margaret.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Tanya,
the server she employed, hovered nearby, a worried expression
pinching her face. “What’s wrong?”
“
Oh. Nothing.” Tanya shook
her head. “At least with Crumpet. I was wondering about you though.
Are you okay?”
She had the urge to laugh
hysterically. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“
You looked strange and you
haven’t been acting like yourself. I mean, you don’t look strange.
You look lovely like always.” She exhaled a frustrated breath, her
fingers playing with her lace apron. “You just seem upset somehow.
I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“
I’m fine,” she lied, oddly
touched. She even tried to smile.
The frown deepened on Tanya’s face,
and she stepped back, worrying the apron even more. “Well, I need
to check on table eight’s tea. Um, if you want to talk or anything,
let me know.”
“
Thank you,” she murmured,
watching the girl go back to work. She didn’t need
anything.
Except maybe a glass of wine. Or
someone to hold her hand.
Grant’s face popped into her head. She
pictured the dimples when he smiled and the crinkles at the corner
of his eyes. Someone hadn’t told him he should wear
sunglasses.
She wondered what else he was missing
in his life, and how long he’d been missing it. Was he like
her?
He wasn’t. She could answer that with
certainty. Whatever path he’d walked on, whatever Fate had thrown
his way, he’d come out on top. He was the victor.
She hadn’t even tried to win. At the
first sign of adversity, she’d simply curled into a ball and stayed
there for years.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled
out his card. She’d carried it around with her like a schoolgirl
since that night she’d seen him in Whole Foods.
She shouldn’t call him.
She picked up the phone, the fever
riding her. He wanted her for some reason. She had no idea why.
There had to be any number of women out there who would be suited
to him. He was handsome, fit, smart, and apparently successful.
There had to be hoards of women in her age bracket who’d suit him
better than a dried up, husk of a woman.
She was
tired
of being dead.
She stared at the card.
Heart pounding, she dialed the number
on the card. At the first ring, she hung up.
It rang back a moment later, the
number on caller ID the same as what she dialed.
Grant.
She stared at it, unable to breathe.
She cautiously answered it. “Hello?”
The sound of wind filled her ear, and
then a deep voice said, “Margaret, is that you? Did you call
me?”
She gripped her pearls. “No, I did
not.”
“
But I got a call from this
number.” He sounded amused. “Who else would it have
been?”
“
Not me.” She hung up and
step away from the phone, feeling like it might come to life and
chase her.
Half an hour later, she’d barely
gotten her equilibrium back when the front door opened. A man’s
silhouette stood shadowed in the threshold.
She didn’t have to look twice to know
who it was. Hand at her throat, holding her pearls, she watched
Grant walk toward her. Her chest heaved with the effort of
breathing, and she broke out in a sweat across her
forehead.
“
Margaret.” He smiled at
her, taking her hand in both of his. “I’m happy you
called.”
Swallowing a couple times, she finally
found her voice. “How did you find me?”
“
I had the call traced.” He
stared at her deadpan, but then he grinned. “No, I just used *69,
and then I asked the operator for the address of the
business.”
“
Oh.” She blinked. She
should have felt violated or something. Angry at least, but she was
only relieved he was here. She waited for guilt to set in, but
there was nothing but peace. She blinked, surprised she recognized
what it felt like.
Grant leaned toward her. “Invite me to
sit down,” he whispered loudly.
“
Yes.” She nodded briskly
and hand still in his led him to a table away from the other
customers. She felt Tanya’s questioning gaze on them but ignored
it. She was the boss here. She didn’t have to explain why she was
holding a strange man’s hand.
It felt good too. Strong.
Confident.
She motioned him to sit down. “What
can I get you? Are you hungry?”
“
I doubt what I want is on
the menu, but I’d love some tea.” He looked at her imploringly.
“You’ll join me?”
She hated tea, and she didn’t sit with
customers, but she found herself nodding. Without a word she went
into the kitchen.
Her cook and the dishwasher
froze.
Ignoring their stunned stares, she
pulled one of the china teapots from the shelf and began preparing
a tea. Because men were always hungry, she took several finger
sandwiches that her cook had prepared in advance. Roast beef with
horseradish as well as prosciutto with pesto.
She felt the weight of her employees’
curiosity on her back, but she paid no heed. She owned this place,
after all. She could assemble a tea if she wanted.
Placing everything on a tray, she
carried it out to Grant.
He brightened visibly when he saw her.
Then he brightened even more when he saw the food. “You’re an
angel. How did you know I was hungry?”
Men were always hungry in her
experience. It’d been so long since she’d fed one
though.
Sitting, she poured them both tea,
sipping hers as she watched him enjoy the sandwiches. He smiled at
her. “Delicious.”
She smiled faintly, feeling her face
tight with the unfamiliar expression.
Picking up his teacup, which looked
ridiculous in his masculine hand, he said, “How long have you owned
this shop?”
“
You think I own
it?”
“
Of course you own it. It
has your hand all over it.” He gestured to the place setting.
“Elegant, refined, classic. Understated but fine.
Delicious.”
She felt unaccustomed heat rising to
her cheeks. She sipped her tea to distract herself, but she put it
down immediately. She hated tea. “I don’t know that I’d go that
far.”
“
I would.” He picked up
another sandwich. “Why did you call me?”
She blinked at the change of
conversation. “What do you mean?”
“
You called me. I really
didn’t think you would, but I’m incredibly thankful and excited
that you did.” He leveled his intense gray eyes at her. “Does this
mean you’ll consent to going out to dinner with me?”
“
I—” She hadn’t thought
that far. Really, she hadn’t thought that he’d still be interested
given the way she’d treated him.
He took her hand and raised it to his
mouth. He pressed a kiss to her fingers. His breath on her skin
made her shiver. “There’s this little restaurant in Noe Valley
that’s delightfully like a trip to Italy. Have you ever been to
Italy?”
“
No.” She’d always wanted
to go. Harry had too, given that he was an architect, but they’d
never made it. The fire in her blood burned, and she listed toward
Grant, wanting him to take her wherever he wanted.
He knew he had her too—it was in his
eyes. He leaned toward her, his gaze on her lips. “Come with
me.”
A shadow fell over their table. She
was about to wave Tanya away when she heard Treat say,
“Mom.”
Jerking her hand from Grant’s, she
looked up, unable to get past the guilt and embarrassment to smile
at her son. “Treat, what are you doing here?” she asked standing
up.
His gaze held steady on Grant. “I’ve
been trying to reach you. You aren’t answering your
phone.”
“
Oh. Yes.” She took his arm
and tried to move him away from the table. “Maybe we
can—”
Grant stood up and held his hand out.
“Grant Norquist.”
“
Treat Byrnes.” He glanced
at her before returning his assessing gaze to Grant. “You’re my
mother’s...”
“
We just met,” she said as
Grant said, “Friend.”
Treat raised his brow. “So you’re
friends who just met?”
“
Treat,” she admonished in
her best motherly tone, which wasn’t effective given she felt like
she’d just been caught under the bleachers with a boy by her
dad.
Grant put a hand on her back. “He’s
concerned for your welfare, Margaret. He has every right to
question who I am.”
Her son crossed his arms. “And who are
you?”
“
Someone who’s very
interested in taking your mother out to dinner.”
She flushed, glancing at Treat. Would
he think that she was being unfaithful? His gaze was shuttered and
she couldn’t tell what was going through his mind.
“
But for now I can see you
two have things to discuss,” Grant said, dropping his napkin on the
table. “Thank you for tea, Margaret.”
“
You’re welcome,” she said
automatically.
“
I’ll call you. Answer your
phone.” He lifted her chin and kissed her cheek.
The spot where his mouth touched
burned. It was uncomfortable and exciting all at once. She put a
hand up to it, intending to wipe it away but instead pressing her
palm to it to hold the feeling in.
“
Treat.” Grant nodded at
her son. “I hope to see you in the future.”
Treat nodded, watching the man stride
out of the teahouse. Then he turned to her. “That was a
surprise.”
“
It doesn’t mean
anything.”
“
He wants it to mean
something.”
She couldn’t talk about Grant to her
son. She didn’t know what to make of him herself. “I’m glad you’re
here. I need to rearrange the store for that event—”
“
Mom, someone left the
garden hose on at Grounds for Thought. You wouldn’t happen to know
anything about it, would you?”
She froze, her heart stopping. Then it
started beating wildly. “Why would I know anything about that?” she
asked warily.
He shrugged, too nonchalantly. “I
don’t know. Because you seem to have a thing against Eve’s
business, and I seem to recall telling you that her shop was in
danger of flooding in the back.”
Aware that her customers were
watching, she took his arm and led him to the front, away from
eavesdropping ears. “Are you accusing me of tampering with
something?”
“
I’m not accusing, I’m
asking.” He watched her steadily. “You haven’t been yourself, and
you’ve been so fixated on Eve.”
“
I have
not
been fixated.” She glared at her
son. “You’re the one who seems taken with her.”
He looked skyward, as though he was
exasperated. “Mother—”
The front door swept open and the
topic of their discussion walked in. Eve’s frown deepened when she
saw Treat. “What are you doing here?”
Before either one of them could say
anything, Eve walked to them and put a hand on Treat’s arm. She
said in what could only be described as a lover’s voice, “I told
you I’d take care of this. You didn’t need to come
here.”