Charles stood at the stove. He turned and flashed her a grin.
“There’s our guest of honor.”
She felt a heated flush rise through her body at his tone. I really do need to get out more often.
Ken was setting the table. “Come on in and have a seat,” he said, also gifting her with a delicious smile. When she felt heat fluttering between her legs, she quickly broke eye contact with him. Those blue eyes of theirs were deadly to a woman’s reserve, gay or not.
Le sigh. “I appreciate it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nope,” Charles said. “It’s all under control.”
Ken held out a chair for her, and she offered him a bashful smile as she sat and he helped her scoot her chair in. “What would you like to drink?” he asked. “We have iced tea, water, or I can make you some coffee.”
“Tea’s fine, thanks.” The caffeine might keep her up, but she didn’t care. She sensed a fairly energetic rendezvous in her immediate future with Bob once she got back to her apartment.
Those always helped her get to sleep.
When they were all seated and working on their salads, Charles asked, “So, have you lived in Florida all your life?”
She nodded while she worked through a mouthful of romaine lettuce. “Born and raised here. I did have an offer to go to New York City after I graduated from school, but…” She felt her face redden in embarrassment, wondering how this would sound. “I turned it down.”
She quickly stuffed another forkful of salad into her mouth.
“Why?” Charles asked.
Why indeed? If anyone else had told her the same thing, she would have called them crazy. Unless they tacked on the qualifier. “I honestly didn’t think I could do it,” she softly admitted. “There are days it’s all I can do to drag myself out of bed and downstairs, It’s a Sweet Life 75
especially in the winter. Here in Florida, winters are nonexistent when you compare them to harsh New England weather.” She shrugged. “It was less disappointing to turn it down, I guess.”
“Ah,” Ken said. “I thought you were going to tell us your boyfriend refused to let you go.”
She let out a snort. “Hell, no. I’m single. I was single then, too. I’d already divorced the asshole and moved back home with Mom and Dad.”
“This sounds like a story,” Charles said.
She shrugged and took another bite of salad to buy her a moment to compose her thoughts. “My fibro cranked up in college. I was in an auto wreck at the beginning of my junior year, and apparently that’s a really common trigger. I barely made it through the full four years at USF. I met my ex while I was going there, in my freshman year. I’d planned on teaching and going for my master’s, but by the time I graduated with my bachelor’s, I knew I couldn’t do it.” She studied her plate for a moment. “I was stupid and married him before my junior year started, not three months before the accident.” She frowned. “I guess he forgot about the ‘in sickness’ clause in our vows.”
With a deep breath, she forced a smile. “He was cheating on me not too long after that, when I wasn’t bouncy enough in bed for him.
Unfortunately, it took me a couple of years to figure that part out.
When I found out, I divorced his ass and moved home. Mom and Dad made me stay with them, to build up my strength and confidence. I always had liked to bake. Dad told me I should look into culinary school. That maybe I could find a job with a catering company or something that wouldn’t be as stressful as a restaurant job.”
She thought back with a wistful smile on her face. “My fibro did get somewhat better after I divorced him. I think the stress of not fighting with Kevin anymore helped.”
“Kevin?” Charles asked. “Your ex?”
“Yeah. The rat bastard.” Her smile faded. “I’d only been home a 76 Tymber Dalton
couple of months with the ink barely dry on our final divorce decree when the accident happened. Kevin had the balls to approach me at my parents’ funeral and ask if I wanted to get back together again.”
She stabbed at a piece of lettuce with her fork. “No imagination needed there. He was all smarmy and fake concerned. I could see the dollar signs in his eyes.”
“Ah,” Ken said.
“Yeah.” She took another bite. “They had insurance, plus Grover helped me file a lawsuit and sue the fuck out of the drunk driver that hit and killed them.”
“I’m sorry,” Charles said. “How long ago was that?”
“Eight years.” She took a deep breath and forced a cheery smile she suspected didn’t fool them in the least. “I decided the best thing I could do would be to live in honor of my parents’ memories and go for it. I sat down one night and thought about what I really wanted to do. The first thing that popped into my mind was what my dad had said about culinary school. I realized I wanted to own my own bakery.
And it wouldn’t leave my head. So off to culinary school I went. And now…” She waved her hand around the room. “I bought this building two years ago, sold my parents’ house, and here I am.”
“I’m sure they’d be very proud of you,” Ken said.
“I hope so. I’d like to think so. Grover keeps telling me they would be, and I have no reason to doubt him.”
“He seemed very protective of you the other day,” Charles observed.
A true smile. “He’s another dad to me. His wife, Connie, she died almost four years ago. My parents weren’t huge churchgoers, but Connie and Grover were my godparents when I was born. Grover and my dad worked together for years, had a law firm together before they both retired. My mom and Connie were best friends.” She swallowed back the unexpected and painful lump in her throat. “I don’t know how I would have made it through the past several years without his family’s emotional support.”
It’s a Sweet Life
77
“So,” Ken teased, “does he screen your boyfriends for you?”
She let out another snort. “That’s a laugh. What boyfriends?” She took a sip of her tea. “This dinner with you two is the closest thing I’ve had to a date in a year.” Time to quit talking about myself. “So tell me about your families. What’s Nebraska like?”
Allan frantically groped for a way to fill in the blanks while praying they didn’t end up contradicting themselves or each other in the process. “Well, it’s not Florida.” What he knew about Nebraska was that they had a team called the Cornhuskers, and Penny from The Big Bang Theory hailed from there.
I’m going to need a trip to Wikipedia later if I’m going to do this convincingly for any length of time.
“Thank god,” Ben added, throwing a warning glance his way.
They’d agreed to keep the details to a minimum, lessening the chance of screwing things up. Allan hated lying. As a prosecutor, his job was getting to the truth. Ben on the other hand had way more practical experience in staying undercover and keeping a story straight.
Hell, it was all he could do to remember he wasn’t supposed to be straight and to not start flirting with her. She’d seemed so sad when skimming over the details of her divorce and her parents’ deaths. He longed to reach over and give her a hug, give her a comforting set of arms to relax into.
He mentally shook his head. Must. Focus.
“How are you guys related?” she asked. “You said you were cousins?”
The men spoke at the same time.
“Our fathers—” Ben said.
“Our mothers—” Allan said.
Both men’s mouths snapped shut. Allan thought the fastest and 78 Tymber Dalton