Authors: Elisabeth Barrett
“Forget the suit,” he said, hands sliding up her bare thigh to cup her ass through the thin silk. “You wear this every night to bed?”
She nodded, unable to speak because one of those hands had snaked its way underneath and was tracing down the back of her inner thigh. “And no panties. I should have come earlier.” He walked her backward and pressed her up against the door. She pulled him closer, wanting so badly to feel his body, loving the sensation of that thick male bulge as it settled between her thighs. When she wiggled her hips, he groaned and captured her mouth.
Jake wasted no time slipping his fingers under the strap of her tank, sliding it and the robe off. With another flick of his finger, the other shoulder strap was down, her breasts bared to him.
“Beautiful,” he said, bending his mouth to suck.
Her breath hitched the moment his lips wrapped around her nipple, and she buried her hands in his hair. It didn’t take long before she was more than damp. Impatiently, she pulled him up and sealed her lips to his.
“Take me upstairs,” she murmured in between kisses. “Please.”
He pulled back and swept her up into his strong arms. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Top of the stairs, to the right.”
She clung to him, the cold air on her damp nipples increasing her need, every shift of his body heightening her arousal. By the time they got to her bedroom, she was aching. Gently, he deposited her on the bed and pulled her silky pants down her legs.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Caro.” Something dangerous flared in his eyes. “I could take you like this. With my suit on.” He loosened his tie. “Maybe use this to tie you down.”
The vision of him entering her, him fully clothed, her completely naked and helpless to receive whatever he wanted to give, made her shiver with lust. They would play that game, and soon, but it would be only an illusion. What they’d shared together today was real.
She sat up and wrapped her bare arms around his neck. Then she kissed him, deeply, pouring her passion into him. Slowly, she undid his tie, then slid it off his neck and dropped it on the floor.
“Another time. Promise.” Tonight wasn’t about role-playing or games. It was about truth.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “You have all the power in the bedroom, Caro. Never doubt it.”
She unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, peeling it away from his broad chest. “We’re equals,” she said. “In the bedroom and out. We always have been.” She looked up at him, expecting to see lust in his eyes. But she saw something infinitely more complicated—something that both frightened and awed her. She embraced it. All of it. And she felt alive.
“Caro—” he started, just before he buried his fingers in her hair and kissed her while she got the rest of his clothes off.
Gently, he pushed her back on the bed and smoothed his hand from her breastbone all the way down. He spread her wide, then slid a finger inside. She gasped at the sensation and couldn’t quite catch the words he muttered. Something about
deserving this.
But she didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant, because then another finger was inside her, and she was so wet, and his mouth was on her clit, driving her hard and fast toward a breathtaking orgasm that had her gripping the covers for purchase.
And then, somehow, he’d gotten a condom on. His eyes locked on hers, he wrapped one leg around her back, pressed himself against her entrance, and slowly filled her to the brim. He didn’t break his gaze, nor did he hurry, taking his time and allowing her to feel every millimeter of his length, every inch of his body along hers. And she felt it all—letting her need show, watching him watch her, giving him everything as he slid in and out of her body, his deliberate strokes underscoring the meaning of what they were doing.
She’d waited fifteen years for this and
my God,
it had been worth the wait.
He buried his hands in her hair, holding her head captive, patently demanding that she not look away. She couldn’t if she tried. Because every touch, every sigh, every nuance she felt was mirrored in his eyes. The whole universe narrowed down to the two of them, here and now. Finally,
finally,
the past and present blurred together until all she was left with was them together in the most intimate of dances.
She ran her hand down his back, trying to memorize the feel of his muscle under her fingertips, his inked flesh shifting with every movement, with every breath.
The buildup was so gradual, so graded, that she didn’t even realize how close she was until he quickened his pace just a fraction. Without thinking, she squeezed and her world fell apart. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was an echoing look of release on Jake’s face.
Jake stood outside Room 214 at the Shady Side Hospice Care, his back to the wall. He took a deep breath, reached for the door handle, paused, then walked back to the wall. He went through the exact same movements a moment later before retreating once again. Funny how just the thought of seeing Joe Gaffney Sr. turned him into a tentative kid again. Finally, he turned to Carolyn.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Jake told her.
“I’ll be here the whole time,” Carolyn said, giving him an encouraging smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Me, neither,” his brother said from across the hallway, his big body folded onto a chair that looked as though it might buckle under his weight.
“It’s been so long.”
“And that’s why you shouldn’t let any more time pass,” Carolyn said. Her voice was even, her gaze steady.
You can do this,
she was saying. What she’d been saying all along since she’d brought up the issue at the Sherwood Diner. It wasn’t just about him anymore. It went both ways, and he wouldn’t disappoint her.
Jake nodded, took another deep breath to steel himself, then grasped the door handle. This time he forced himself to go through with it, turning the handle and pushing the door open. It didn’t even creak. Just swung open smoothly on oiled hinges, underscoring the fact that the last barrier to Jake seeing his father after so long was all mental.
“Jacob, my boy?” a voice croaked. “Is that you?”
“It’s me,” Jake confirmed, stepping toward the figure on the bed.
“So glad…to see you.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m glad to see you, too, Dad.”
It was a shock to see his father after so many years. He’d aged, not simply from time, but from the illnesses that had ravaged his body. Years of drinking and smoking had finally caught up with him. Underneath the crisp white linen sheets, his once robust body was shrunken and wasted. His face was a mask of bone and skin, with lines so deep they looked like scars. But those sunken hazel eyes, so much like Joe’s, watched as sharply as they always did.
“Jake,” his father said, reaching out with a bony arm. “Come.” His voice was a raspy rattle, carrying none of the power or weight it used to have. Jake came, anyway.
“Hi, Dad,” he said, pulling a chair near to the bed. “How’ve you been?”
“Better now that you’re here,” Joe Sr. said. “Joey told me you might show up, but I didn’t believe it until I saw you with my own eyes.”
“Yeah, well, I came.”
“Read about Briarwood in the paper. Can’t believe you finally bought it. I’m not surprised. You always did love that place.”
Love
wasn’t the word he would have used, but he could see how to his dad it might seem that way. Really, he’d spent all that time at Briarwood so he wouldn’t have to be at home, waiting for his dad to either pick a fight with him or Joe or get so drunk he forgot his own name. In some ways, his mom’s death had been a mercy. She hadn’t seen what a monster the man she loved had become. The monster Jake spent his whole life trying to escape. How many times had he heard from his dad how worthless he was? How he’d never amount to anything? Joe had gotten a pass because even back then he was huge, a star on the football field, a gentle giant off it. All Jake had were his brains and his skills.
You’re clever, Jake, I’ll give you that,
his father had told him after one particularly bruising bender.
But you’ll never amount to shit because you’re trash and you’ll always be trash.
He’d been angry at his dad for so long. By rights, he should be angry for the rest of his life. But then he looked at his father’s wasted body, his wasted soul—and he didn’t feel anger. Not anymore. Now, all he felt was pity.
“I’m sorry you’re so sick, Dad,” Jake said.
“Yeah, well, I guess I asked for it. Your mother told me to quit smoking forty years ago. Tried to get me to quit drinking, too, but I was too far gone to listen.” He coughed then, a deep, rasping cough that shook the bed. “I fucked up, Jake. With Kristy, with Joey, and most of all, with you.”
“You don’t have to talk about that now.”
“Yeah? When am I gonna? I don’t have much time left. Any idiot can see that. I was a first-class asshole, and before I go, I just want to say I’m sorry.”
This wasn’t what he was expecting. “C’mon, Dad, you don’t—”
“No,” Joe Sr. croaked, trying to raise his hand to stop Jake from going on. “Don’t say anything. Just let me speak my piece. If I had it to do over again, I’d do everything different. I’d be a better husband. A better father.” He paused. “I know you might not be able to accept it. I just needed to say it.”
Once, Jake worshipped the ground his dad walked on. Would have gone to the moon and back for a smile, a pat on the back, a
good job, son.
But that wasn’t the kind of dad Joe Sr. had been. He’d come to terms with it. Because whatever his dad did was no reflection on him. Not anymore.
“You said it,” Jake said. “I hear you. You did treat us like shit. But you know what? We all turned out all right.”
“They say you end up like your parents. I ended up like my old man. Jesus, he was a mean fucker.”
“I remember.” Joe Sr.’s father, a burly man named John Gaffney, was one giant SOB. Jake’s mom hadn’t brought them over for visits much, due to his terrible temper. He’d died when Jake was seven.
“Joey told me you’re seeing someone.” Jake nodded. “Well, if it gets serious, and you end up having kids, don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Kids. Holy shit.
He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. But now the image of Carolyn wearing his ring, bearing his children, wouldn’t leave his brain. “I won’t,” he finally managed to say. “But you can be sure I’ll teach ’em how to woodwork, just like Grandpa did.”
His dad smiled, a cracked, worn smile that split his haggard face. “You’re all right, Jakey,” his dad said. “You’re all right.”
They sat there for a while, just the two of them, and Jake talked. About Portofino, about Marc and Press, about Briarwood, and even a little about Carolyn. He didn’t go into detail. Just told his dad that she was special. And for a few short minutes, Jake could almost pretend that they hadn’t been estranged for over a decade, that they were a regular family.
After a while, Joe Sr.’s eyelids began to droop.
“I’m going to head out now,” Jake told him. “But I’ll be back to see you soon.”
“I’d like that,” his dad said, starting to slur his words together with sleepiness. “And tell Joey thanks for sending you in.”
“Sure I will,” Jake said, even though it really hadn’t all been his brother’s influence.
He stepped out of the room, and Carolyn crossed the hallway to take his hand in hers. She squeezed, letting him know she was there for him. Over her shoulder, Joe gave him a nod, then silently rose and walked down the corridor.
“Did it go all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, brushing his lips against hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
He nodded. “Starving.” Seeing his dad had taken a toll—emotionally and physically. “I think the Western omelet at the Sherwood is calling my name.”
Carolyn smiled. “Make it two.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and together, they followed the path Joe had taken out of the hospice. He’d never have come if it hadn’t been for her. Never set things right after way too many years had passed. She’d done this for him. Gone out on a limb to push him to do this.
He stopped and she stopped with him, looking up quizzically. Gently, reverently, he took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes with pleasure. When they were open again, he kissed her mouth.
And she kissed him back, as if knowing exactly what she’d given him today—a measure of peace that would last for the rest of his life.
At three in the afternoon on the day of the welcome party, Carolyn gave the garden a long, critical look. The roses weren’t out yet, but the azaleas were in fine form, the trimmed, dark green bushes dotted with white flowers. They’d emerged in the past week, just like she’d known they would. There was dampness in the air, the remnants from this morning’s sprinkling of rain. The skies were clear now, and aside from the breeze, which Carolyn hoped would die down in the hours leading up to the event, the weather was gorgeous—it would be the perfect spring evening to host the fete that would launch Briarwood into its next phase.
This event needed to be perfect, and she had spent hours planning every detail. So far, things were on schedule. Outside, the cocktail tables were completely set up, the linens in place, but one tablecloth was flapping a bit too much in the breeze. Carolyn signaled briefly to Wes Valles. He nodded, and Carolyn knew he’d get one of his staff to properly weight the linen. The bar was arranged on one side of the garden in front of a hedgerow, and Louis, a server who moonlighted as a bartender on his off-nights, was doing the honors, setting up his bar equipment and glassware. Louis gave her a nod, then went back to his work.
She’d already checked on the preparations inside. In the ballroom, the tables were set and dressed, thanks to Wes and his staff. And in the kitchen, things seemed to be going smoothly. All hands were on deck tonight, including Jane Pringle, who was assisting Susumo.
Carolyn smiled to herself. Slowly, her family was growing.
At that moment, Grace arrived from the side entrance in a swirl of skirts and hair, a stunning floral arrangement in her arms. She was limping a little, and Carolyn walked quickly over to greet her.
“Let me help you,” she said, holding out her arms.
“And risk ruining your dress?” Grace said. “Not a chance.”
Carolyn had dressed with infinite care this morning, knowing that she wouldn’t have a chance to get home to change prior to the event. To take her from day to evening, she chose a sleeveless silk sheath in navy and white, classic prep wear. Right now she wore a pair of espadrilles, but for party time, she would change into some tall, elegant heels.
“Why don’t you put the arrangement there?” Carolyn said, clearing a spot on a nearby table. “I’ll get my steward to take care of it.”
“Okay,” Grace said, sliding the heavy-looking display onto the tabletop.
When the arrangement was safely down, Carolyn squeezed her arm. “This arrangement is just beautiful!” Carolyn said. “Are the others like this?”
Grace beamed, her smile as generous as the rest of her. “Thanks, and yes. I stuck with the pavé—country-club style, right? I used some ranunculus, parrot tulips, hyacinth, cabbage roses, and celosia. But I went a bit wild on the colors. You like?”
“I love. It’s classic, but very modern at the same time. You’re good.” Grace’s smile got even bigger. “How’s the leg, by the way?”
“Better, thanks for asking. The doctors say I have to wear these braces for the next couple of weeks.” She lifted her skirt to show the bandages wrapped around her ankle and knee. “But it’s not too bad. And thankfully I can walk without crutches.”
“Good,” Carolyn said. “We’ll try another hike when you’re better. And next time, we’re going to double-knot your laces!”
“Deal,” Grace said.
“And I need to know about the man.”
“Oh, I’m saving him for our girls’ night in a couple of weeks. But right now, I just want to keep him to myself.”
Carolyn got it. She’d kept most of the details of her relationship with Jake under wraps—mostly because at first she wasn’t sure what they were doing, and later, she didn’t want to mess up what they were developing by sharing. “You don’t need to tell everything. Just the romantic parts, like him carrying you to the car and staying with you at the hospital.”
“And taking me to lunch afterward.”
“Yes. That.” Carolyn smiled. “Thanks again for coming, Grace.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Besides, you’re paying me, aren’t you?” she said with a grin. “Just kidding. Seriously, I’m happy to be here. I wanted to see the place you and Jane have been telling me about.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Grace squinted at the building. “In an old-school New Englandy kind of way, sure.”
“I keep forgetting that not everyone sees Briarwood the way I do.” She tried to see it through Grace’s eyes—the century-old structure, the peeling paint surrounded by gardens that had seen better days—but all she saw was home.
“I’m sure it’ll look amazing after the renovation,” Grace said.
Carolyn nodded. “It will. So what can I help you with? Where’d you park your truck?”
“In the staff parking lot.”
“Let’s get it pulled around to the side so we can unload the arrangements without too much fuss. I’ll get Wes to help you. You shouldn’t be carrying anything else.”
Grace went to move her truck, while Carolyn got Wes and his crew to assist with the unloading.
By five thirty that evening, everything was in place and ready to go. The garden fairly glittered, thanks to the numerous hanging lanterns arranged in sweeping lines around the perimeter and the clusters of votives on every table. And the ballroom looked as good as she’d ever seen it.
As she took one last look at the garden, her cell buzzed in her hand. She glanced down to find a text from Susumo.
Kitchen. Now.
This was not good, and damn if she hadn’t already stowed her espadrilles in her office. As fast as she could in four-inch heels, Carolyn raced inside and down the back corridor. Breathlessly, she burst through the kitchen door into a volley of clatter, din, and screaming—in English and in French.
Not now.
Not when they were so close to the finish line.
Nick and Eric were standing in the middle of the room, as close as they could possibly be without touching. Both men were pretty big, but Eric had ten years, two inches, and forty pounds on Nick.
“Why the hell are you screaming at her?” Nick was yelling.
“She’s not doing her fucking job!” Eric screamed back, a vein in his forehead throbbing.
“Gentlemen,” Carolyn said, stepping between them, one hand on each of their arms and pushing gently. “This isn’t helping anything. Please be calm.”
Nick stepped back, but Eric didn’t.
“Calm?” Eric fairly spat the word. “I cannot be calm when there is a traitor in our midst.”
Traitor?
Carolyn glanced around. Almost the entire kitchen staff was standing there, wide-eyed, including Jane Pringle. Everyone except Madison, who had her head down.
He’d found out about Maddy’s stint at that seafood place; she was sure of it. “Eric, what is going on?” she asked calmly, even though it was pretty obvious.
Eric made a disgusted gesture at Maddy. “Miss Klein, once again, undermines me at every turn.”
“Maddy?” Carolyn said, her voice gentle.
Madison glanced up quickly, then back down, but it was enough for Carolyn to see her flushed face and her red-rimmed eyes. “I—I made the sauce wrong by accident.”
This admission seemed to agitate Eric again. “Taught in an inferior kitchen by an inferior chef! You are done here! Finished!” Eric screamed. “Take off your hat. Leave your apron.”
“Who cares if she needs to earn extra money?” Nick said. “You’ve been riding her harder than anyone else.”
“You think that because you’re sleeping together, it gives you the right to tell me how to run my kitchen?” Eric said.
Nick made as if to lunge at Eric, but this time, Susumo stepped forward. With a small shake of his head, Nick stepped back.
“This kitchen is no place for personal relationships,” Susumo warned, his accent coming out a bit thicker, like it always did when he was riled up. “Or their discussion.”
“Pfft,” Eric said. “He’s blinded by lust.”
“And you are blinded by anger,” Susumo countered. “Be reasonable. Who will fill in if she goes?”
“I will!” Eric said, pointing a thumb at his chest.
Carolyn shook her head. “No. We need everyone here, at least through the end of the night.”
“This is unacceptable!” Eric said.
“Excuse me,” Jane said, stepping forward.
Eric’s gaze flicked up and down. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m here for Susumo, like I am almost every week,” Jane snapped. “Look, I know you don’t know me very well and I don’t know what you’re dealing with or what pressure you’re under, but you shouldn’t take it out on this poor kid,” she said, pointing to Madison. “You have all the power here, so don’t abuse it,” Jane continued. “There are fifteen people in this kitchen tonight who look up to you. Stop being a dick and lead, for God’s sake. From what Carolyn’s told me, this event is a big deal. A
really
big deal. The time to deal with all of this is later, after all the food is out and the dessert service is finished.”
Jane tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “So dump the sauce and have her do it over.” She turned to Madison. “You’ll do it, won’t you?”
Madison nodded.
Eric stared at Jane, his mouth tight, and honestly, Carolyn couldn’t read him at all. Finally, he spoke. “What’d you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. It’s Jane. Jane Pringle.”
“Well, Jane Pringle,” Eric said, saying her name as if it were something distasteful, “you have earned your spot for tonight. You may stay, and so may she.” Still looking at Jane, he flicked his hand in Madison’s general direction. “Do as she says.”
Madison blinked, and then quick as a wink, scurried to dump the offending sauce down the drain. Nick backed off, and as if nothing had happened, went back to his station on the line. So did everyone else. Within moments, the rhythm of the kitchen had resumed. And then, Eric turned and went back to the corner, where he appeared to be assisting a sous chef with plating.
Carolyn let out a deep breath and turned to Jane and Susumo. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
“No problem,” Jane mouthed back.
Susumo gave a slight nod of his head, then indicated that Jane should follow him. She did, back to the pastry station.
There was nothing else for Carolyn to do in the kitchen—at least for the time being. She glanced down at her watch. A mere fifteen minutes had passed, but it seemed like a lifetime. And now it was time to greet the first guests, who would just be arriving.
In contrast to the insanity in the kitchen, in the front of the house, everything was running like clockwork. Alicia Chelmsford was one of the first guests to arrive—Vernon being concerned about good impressions—and once the party was in full swing, the older woman cornered Carolyn at the edge of the garden.
“You have done an absolutely marvelous job with this event, my dear,” Alicia whispered into Carolyn’s ear. “I can’t believe how fine it all looks. Or how many people decided to attend.”
True to form, Alicia wore a dazzling beaded cocktail dress and was dripping with diamonds. Carolyn gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said. If she only knew that Eric had just had an epic meltdown behind the scenes.
“You did more than well.” Alicia nodded at the bar, which was now doing a brisk business. A consummate professional, Louis poured and chatted, with a polite smile on his face. “Everyone is nicely lubricated,” she said. “And they’re eating up what
he
has to say.”
Carolyn followed her gaze over to the center of the garden, where Jake was holding court. Tonight, he was wearing a blazer and a tie—two words she would never have connected with Jake but now actually seemed appropriate. He’d surprised her in so many ways. As she was watching, Jake lifted his head from the crowd, squarely met her gaze, gave her a half-smile, and then went back to his conversation.
“You like him, don’t you,” Alicia said.
“I—” Carolyn started.
Alicia waved her hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Though for what it’s worth, I approve.”
“You don’t think he’s
coarse
?” Carolyn said, echoing what she’d said Vernon had thought of him.
“A little,” Alicia said, a secret smile on her face, “but it just adds to his attractiveness, don’t you think?”
“Alicia!” Carolyn breathed.
“I’m just glad their bid for the renovations was so successful. Not that it wouldn’t have been,” she said quickly, “because they could simply have pushed them through. But it’s nice to have the full support of the Board.” She paused. “I talked to Vernon, you know.”
“I didn’t want to presume,” Carolyn said.
“Of course not,” Alicia said. “You’re much too polite for that. But it was your design. I would have done the exact same thing. In my opinion, it was very well done. I hope he thanks you for all the work you put in to make Briarwood such a success.”
Carolyn turned to her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Hardly,” Alicia said. “But thank you for saying so.”
“Have you had any breakthrough with Isabella and Mr. Chelmsford?”
“Not yet,” Alicia admitted. “But your moxie inspired me to work on him.”
“I have no doubt you will succeed.”
Alicia gave her a little smile, and then went to join her husband.
Carolyn headed back into the kitchen to check on preparations. Thank God everything was running smoothly this time.
“How’s it going?” she asked Eric, as soon as she stepped inside the bustling space.
Eric dipped a spoon into a pot of sauce bubbling on the stove that was being tended by Madison. “
Bien.
Good,” he said, with a short nod. “Plating will begin on schedule in ten minutes.”
“Excellent. Thanks, Eric.”
The party ended up going off without a hitch—well, at least not a visible hitch. The Board was appeased, the members were coddled, and the neighbors were impressed. And even the Grotons appeared to show interest in rejoining the club. All in all, a good evening’s work. Carolyn did her part to ensure that their guests wanted for nothing.
Afterward, she, Grace, and Jane got Louis to make them mimosas, and they sat in the empty ballroom, while the staff members cleaned up around them, and talked until midnight.
And when Carolyn finally went home tired but happy, Jake by her side, she knew she belonged at Briarwood, in Eastbridge, here.