3

Chapter 3

Levi wandered through the store.

Dumb to go grocery shopping when

he was hungry, he knew. But he’d

been in one meeting or hearing after

the next and his fridge was bare. He

avoided the frozen aisle, saving it for

last when he wouldn’t fall on the

jumbo boxes of popsicles like a

starving man. Or maybe he would. At

least he didn’t have to cook

popsicles.

The last week had left him a little

ragged. Familial obligations right and

left. A luncheon for his mother’s pet

project—a program to provide pro

bono legal services for survivors of

family violence. There had been

many just a decade before, but

continued cuts to social programs had

devastated most and left the very few

limping along on triage with long

wait lists for women who didn’t have

the time to wait.

And then more wedding stuff for

Mal. Dinners and fittings. Silly things

he could have done on his own but

for whatever reason Gwen made into

one event after the next.

The

thought

of

his

brother

kowtowing to the woman for the rest

of his life made Levi tired. Malachi

was smarter than this usually. She

was a beautiful woman, but there

were other beautiful women out

there. She was shallow and petty.

Their mother despised Gwen, which

might be part of her appeal to Mal.

All in all, dealing with any of the

wedding stuff took a few stiff drinks

and cotton in his ears to drown it all

out.

Work of course. His uncle was

nearing retirement. He had no kids of

his own so the work was being split

between Levi and his oldest brother

Jonah. He’d been part of several

different

meetings

with

myriad

clients to introduce himself and begin

that handoff.

It was Friday night and he planned

to make some soup and a sandwich

and watch Doctor Who on the DVR

while he polished off a few beers.

And then he planned to sleep until at

least ten the next morning.

A fine plan.

The produce section loomed to the

left. Yes, apples and some bananas

for smoothies. He grabbed them by

rote.

Then he stopped dead in his tracks

to admire.

A woman in formfitting yoga pants

was bent at the waist, peering at

something. She also had on a scoop-

necked T-shirt and bent the way she

was, her tits mounded up at the top of

the shirt as he could also see the edge

of her bra. It wasn’t as if he was a

pervert, but a woman with that much

lush beauty on display wasn’t

something he’d feel bad looking at.

Her eyes were closed as she held

a piece of fruit to her nose and

breathed it in. Her nails were done a

shiny red and then he realized who it

was when she opened her eyes and

her gaze locked on his as she

straightened and stood.

“Hello, Levi.” She put the fruit in a

brown paper bag and tucked it into

her basket.

“Daisy.”

They stood close, just staring at the

other. Goddamn, she was hot. In the

dress she’d worn in the dance class

the week before she’d been sexy and

retro. But formfitting worked for her

just as well.

“Like a bad penny.”

He had to tear his attention from

her breasts to figure out what she’d

said. “What?”

“You keep turning up. Like a bad

penny. Have you never heard the

saying?” She cocked her head and he

flushed at the long expanse of her

neck, wanting to touch.

“How old are you?” He actually

blurted this and then was horrified.

Her head tipped then, her hair

falling back as she laughed.

“God, that was rude. I’m sorry. It’s

just…” He licked his lips. What the

hell did he think he was doing?

“I’ll answer your question. On one

condition.”

He stepped a little closer because

he wanted to so badly. “And that is?”

“I’ll only answer if you’re

attempting to ascertain my age

because you’re going to ask me to

dinner or drinks.”

He liked how bold she was. Liked

the way she flirted.

“But not otherwise?”

Her smile brought out her dimples.

She shook her head slowly.

“Otherwise it’s not your business.”

“All right. Point taken. How old

are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

Christ. Twenty-four? She was

nearly twenty years younger than he

was. He needed to turn around and

walk away. And yet he continued to

stand

there.

This

couldn’t

go

anywhere. She was too young. Too

everything.

And damn if he didn’t want a taste.

Damn if he didn’t want to see if that

submission

she

showed

while

dancing with him could extend into

other parts of her life.

“And so?” She blinked up at him

with a challenge.

He was about to say no thanks, or

still trying to talk himself into saying

it when he said, “Can you cook? I

can’t except for sandwiches.” He

sighed. “What I mean is, I’m starving

but I’ve eaten out for the last week

except for a family dinner over the

weekend. I’d like home cooking but

the best I can offer you is soup and

grilled cheese. If you cooked well,

I’d prefer that.”

She laughed again. “I’m not the

best cook in the world. But lucky for

you, my friend is one of those

talented cooks and she brought me a

huge amount of food just this

morning. I can’t tell you what any of

it is. I just tucked it all into my fridge.

But I can guarantee whatever it is

you’ll love.”

“And you live in your own place?”

“No. Of course not. I live in a

dorm with all my college pals. We

play beer pong and have pillow

fights in our underpants while

giggling.”

He’d been about to frown at her

until she made the pillow fighting

comment and then he went there in

his head and had to fight off a hard-

on at the thought.

She handed him a business card.

“My house is here. Well, not the

gallery part. I live in a small house

on the same lot. Mine is the one with

the blue shutters. You can meet me

there in a bit. I need to take these figs

to the same friend who brought me

the food this morning. I’ll be home in

about thirty minutes.”

“All right. I’ll see you then.”

She waved and he watched her

head to the front to check out. At least

he had time to run his own groceries

home first.

Daisy knocked and went inside when

she heard Mary call out. “Hey, I was

at the market and I saw figs on sale.”

She held up the bag and Mary took

them with a delighted sound before

she kissed Daisy’s cheek and hugged

her.

“Awesome! I’ve been working for

the last two days on a few new

recipes with figs. Stay and be my

tester.” Mary drew her into the large

kitchen where Mary’s brother Cal

and their friend Jules were already

seated.

“Hey gorgeous!” Jules hopped up

to come and hug Daisy.

“Hey you.” She hugged Jules back

and then moved to drop a kiss on

Cal’s cheek. “I can’t stay. I have…I

guess it’s a date.”

“You

guess?”

Jules’s

pretty

features darkened.

“It’s this guy I met in a class. Or it

wasn’t my class, I was subbing in the

class and he was in it by mistake and

he left and I left.”

“Oh, hot guy in the suit. Yum.”

Mary put the figs on the counter.

“Yes, him. I just saw him at the

grocery store. I’m going to make him

dinner. Or actually serve him your

food, which is better. I told him it

wasn’t my cooking all up front and

everything.” She added this when

Jules’s brow went up.

“Girl, I don’t care about that. Who

is this guy? You’re letting a near

stranger come to your house?”

“He’s some uber professional hot

dude. If I end up dead and stuffed in a

freezer, tell ’em some pretty guy

named Levi Warner saw me last.”

“Don’t make fun.” Jules glowered

and Daisy hugged her, loving how

protective they all were.

“I’m not making fun of how you

care about me. But he seems wary

because of the age thing. It’s dinner,

not an engagement.”

“He’s legit.” Cal sipped his beer.

“Warner family is a big deal in some

circles. They’ve got a law firm in

Seattle. He’s got a small office here

as well.”

“Is he throwing shade on you guys?

I will totally kick him out if he is.”

Cal laughed. “No, baby, but thank

you. He does land use stuff. Not

anywhere near what we do. He’s

even sent some of his local people to

us when they needed representation

on issues he doesn’t do. But he’s

older than you are.”

“He is.”

Everyone made a deal about her

age. Usually until they got to know

her. It used to bother her more than it

did by that point. At the beginning of

Delicious, she was just eighteen

years old. Gillian and Jules were

already close friends. Mary and her

brothers too because they lived right

next door. Daisy had been the kid

who ran errands for them. She’d

made extra money in high school

working for Jules’s parents at their

cafe so she knew them all. Liked

them and wanted to be part of their

circle. So she’d just done it. Showed

up. And they’d let her in and they’d

all grown close and now six years

later she was one of them, twenty-

four or not.

“Like how much older?”

Daisy shrugged. “He looks mid-

thirties. But he’s got one of those

faces some men have. Could be up to

fifty. Though I don’t think so.”

Cal interrupted. “He’s got to be

forty or so. He was ahead of me at

UW. He and I both went to law

school there. What’s a forty-year-old

man want with a twenty-four-year-

old?”

Daisy indicated her body. “Dude. I

mean, come on. Twenty-four-year-

old boobs.”

Cal blushed furiously as Mary and

Jules laughed.

“Look, it’s dinner. He’s not a

creep. I’d know. I can always tell.

He’s hot. We had chemistry. That’s

all we’re talking about right now.

And I need to run. He’ll be at my

house in ten minutes.” She hugged

and kissed everyone before heading

out again and back home.

Truth was, she found herself

deliciously intrigued by Levi Warner.

He was nothing like any man she’d

been with before. Distinguished, she

thought as she put her bags down in

the kitchen and headed to her closet

to find something to change into. He

made her want to dress up to please

his eye. Which was interesting in and

of itself.

It was too late for a full new outfit

and all that. But she could do better

than yoga pants. She found some

trousers and a shirt to wear over the

tee she had on. A quick brush of

teeth, some lipstick and a braid of her

hair and she was ready by the time he

knocked on the door.

She’d even had time to light some

candles so the house smelled good

when she opened her door to find him

standing on her stoop with a huge

bouquet of flowers and a bottle of

wine.

“Come in.” She took the flowers

and led him to the kitchen, just a few

steps away. “Thank you.” She loved

that he’d chosen a bunch of colorful

wildflowers. They went perfectly

with the vase she’d finished up a few

months ago.

“I brought wine.” He held up a

bag. “And some beer too. I wasn’t

sure what you’d be serving.”

“Put them here on the counter. Let

me see what I’ve got. I just walked

in. If you’d like, you can put some

music on.”

He wandered off, looking around

and probably thinking she didn’t

notice it. The house was where her

grandmother used to live and work

after her grandfather had died. But

she was in her late eighties now and

lived in her parents’ house. She and

Daisy shared a workspace out back.

So the little house had become

hers.

Little Dragon began to play

through her speakers. She watched

him pause to listen and then nod to

himself as if he found it acceptable.

This was a good sign.

She pulled out the containers Mary

had left, peeking in and taking sniffs

as she peeled the lids back.

“Mmm, pulled pork. Do you eat

pork?”

He moved to her and she had no

choice but to freeze in place. He was

too much and not enough all at once

and she didn’t know how to process.

So intense she wanted to run and rub

herself all over him at the same time.

He was the most intense man she’d

ever been attracted to. Though,

attracted was a lightweight word for

the

way

he

simply

assumed

ownership of all her parts, leaving

her mentally panting. And he hadn’t

even touched her yet!

He got even closer to look into the

container she held. “I do.”

Licking her lips, she stepped back

to grab plates and put things into the

microwave.

“Sit. I’ll get you something to

drink. We’ve got pulled pork, which

will go awesome with the brioche

she put in with it. Shrimp salad of

some kind. Don’t know what she

calls it, but it’ll be good. Other little

puffy things and some crunchy bits

and bobs.”

“Beer please.”

He watched through hooded eyes

as she moved around the small space

and served him. Watched as she

tipped the glass when she poured the

beer. Watched as she automatically

dished him up a plate and handed it

to him along with a linen napkin she

casually put on his lap.

Watched and fell under her spell.

“I meant to ask you last week when

I ran into you. Whose artwork is

that?”

“Did you like it?” She nudged

some chili sauce in his direction.

“I did. I take it you work for the

gallery next door? I’d like to speak

with the artist. See if he’d be willing

to donate something to a charity

auction I’m working on.”

One of her brows rose. “I do work

at the gallery next door, yes. It’s only

open a few hours a week. And I’m

sure she’d be willing to donate

something for a good cause. What’s

the cause?”

“Ah, sorry. I assumed and that was

silly. I figured ‘Ramona’ was the

name of the art, not the artist.”

She laughed and paused to hum in

delight after she popped something

into her mouth. “You need to try that

pickled thing there.” She pointed.

“Ramona is my first name.”

He sucked in a breath. “It’s yours

then?”

She nodded. “It is, yes. What’s the

charity?”

He took her hand and kissed her

knuckles before turning it, unfurling

her fingers and kissing her palm.

“You’ve got a lot of talent.”

When he looked at her face again

she was blushing. “Thank you. Oh!”

She jumped up and headed to the

fridge. “Tortillas. I knew I had

something I was forgetting. Hang on,

I’m going to warm them.”

“Did your friend make those too?”

“No. My mom made them. Though

she learned from my grandfather. He

was the cook in the family.”

“And what do they do? Your

family, I mean.”

“My father and sister run a dental

practice. My mother teaches at a

private

elementary

school.

My

grandmother is a painter.”

“Ah, that must be where you got it

then. Does the gallery sell other art

or just your stuff?”

“The gallery is my grandmother’s

place. She and I work there a few

days a week. My grandfather opened

it when he got back from World War

Two. We have some local artists we

feature, as well as my work and my

grandmother’s. This is their land. My

parents live in the big house. My

grandmother now with them. This

used to be her studio and living

space.” She waved a hand as she

continued heating the tortillas.

He liked it. The house wasn’t big.

But it was vibrant and sensual. Her

bed was in a far corner. Unmade. He

loved the burst of rich color, the

blankets and sheets a tangle of purple

and orange. She had a huge collection

of music and movies. Her electronics

were all very good. He’d apparently

been too busy looking at her butt in

those pants to have noticed the art on

the walls.

The space smelled good. Like her.

Sexy. Spicy. Probably forbidden but

he had no plans to get up and leave

anytime soon. She wasn’t a fluffy-

headed young woman. Not at all from

what he could see.

“And you? What do you do? Other

than paint and give dance lessons?”

“I do lots of things.”

“Is that so?” Goddamn, he hoped

so.

She looked at him over her

shoulder as she stood at the stove.

Her mouth quirked up on one side.

“Oh, that too. If you’re lucky.”

“Tell me about your art, then.”

She returned to the table and he

didn’t try to resist the tortillas. Once

he rolled it around the pork and took

a bite he was glad. “Christ, that’s

good.”

“I know. My mom is a really good

cook. I could live on tortillas and

butter. Mainly I work in mixed

media. Paint, pen and ink, some

photography. I’ve been working with

paper a lot lately. Some sculpture

and glass. Anyway, I’m always

interested in helping when I can.

What’s this charity?”

“Foster family support. It’s a

private agency that works with public

services. Parenting classes, legal

support for those who formally

adopt, therapeutic support if needed

for the parents and other siblings.”

She nodded and then topped his

glass off, distracting him a little.

“Sounds

like

a

wonderful

organization.”

“It is, actually. We have an

auction, it’s coming up in two

months. I’m one of the procurers.”

She laughed. “I bet.”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed some more and

spooned up some pickled vegetables.

“You’re good at talking people into

things, I wager. That’s why they make

you the procurement person.”

“When you believe in the cause

it’s a lot easier.”

“Tell me about yourself, Levi.”

“Not much to tell.”

“I have a confession,” she said

before swiping her tongue over her

bottom lip and making it hard for him

to breathe.

“That so?”

“You like saying that. I’m not

surprised you’re an attorney.”

That surprised a laugh from him.

“Do a lot of attorneys you know say

that?”

“No. I don’t know a lot anyway.

Just Cal.”

Cal?

“Cal Whaley?” The guy was

handsome and Levi wondered just

how she knew Cal.

She brightened at the mention of

Cal’s name and his suspicion grew.

“Yes, that’s the one. He never says

stuff like ‘that so’ either. But he’s got

this way of saying as little as

possible while he’s gathering all

sorts of info from other people and

they never even notice.”

“How do you know Cal?”

She raised her brow again. “How

d o you know Cal? I mentioned you

when I stopped by my friend’s house

earlier and he said he knew you.

Also said you weren’t a serial killer.

He didn’t think.”

Torn between amusement and

agitation he took her in. “Good to

know he doesn’t think I’m going to

hack you up and put you in the

freezer.”

“Ew. I bet you never say things

like that in front of your family.”

She had this way of blurting things

out that were startlingly true and

intimate. But she didn’t even know

him.

“My family isn’t prone to talking

about serial killing.” He shrugged.

“God, mine either. Boring. We

talk about art and teeth. Oh and

teaching. So you’re a lawyer too and

so I assume that’s how you know

Cal.”

He nodded. “It’s a small island.

We do business from time to time. I

use some space in his building when

I have a large meeting and I’m not in

Seattle. And you?” He was pretty

sure Whaley was gay. But come to

think of it, Levi had seen him with a

woman a time or two and it was

obvious it was a date.

“I’ve known the Whaleys most of

my life. They only live just up the

road a little. Ryan, that’s Cal’s

brother, used to babysit me and my

sister when we were kids. Mary,

that’s Cal’s sister and one of my best

friends, she’s the one who made the

food we’re eating. She takes pity on

me and feeds me. That’s her thing.

She does it to everyone.” Daisy

smiled and it shot straight to his cock.

“Would you like more food?”

“I think I’m full. For now

anyway.” He pushed back from the

table. “You do the food since I don’t

know where anything is. And I’ll

clear the dishes.” He stood.

“No.” She placed a hand on his

shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. Go and

sit. I’ll be done in a minute or two.”

First she put an apron on and god

help him, his cock actually throbbed,

it was so hard. So pretty and

feminine, she put lids back on

containers

and

bustled

around,

opening and closing the fridge and

cabinets as she cleaned up. The

couch he sat on was comfortable, set

back in a bay window. A copy of

Stephen King’s The Shining lay open

on the arm.

“All right then.” She moved

toward him. “Are you all right for

beer? Would you like a top up or

something else? I’ve got cider.”

“I’m good.” And he was. Utterly

relaxed for the first time in a week.

“Sit with me.” He patted the couch

and she dropped next to him, tucking

her feet beneath her.

“What sort of law do you

practice?”

“Land-use stuff mainly.”

“Let’s pretend I’m dumb and I

don’t know what ‘land use’ means.”

She fluttered her lashes and he found

himself laughing again.

“Say you’re a communications

company and you need cell towers to

provide your customers service. I

help with permits and any sort of

contract they might enter into to lease

private and municipal property for

that use. Sometimes I handle land

reclamation issues. Say if a new

company

buys

land

and

it’s

contaminated or being cleaned up. I

help them get through the regulations

and permitting process so they can

get to work. It’s not always

fascinating, but I like making things

happen.”

“Making things happen takes a

certain kind of talent.” She took his

hand and began to knead it before she

turned and examined his palm.

“Are you going to read my

lifeline?”

She leaned in and brushed a kiss

over his lips. Just a breath of a touch

and his entire body went hard. “No. I

just like touching you.”

He wasn’t sure what to do with

someone so straightforward.

“Right now you’re thinking. What

is it you’re thinking, Levi?”

“I’m thinking you’re very young.”

She nodded. “I am.”

“I’m trying to find a way around

that.”

“How about I explain to you that

I’m twenty-four, not fifteen. And that

I’m perfectly capable of making my

own decisions and choices.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled

hard. “And I’m thinking I’m too old.”

“Too old for what? Do you have

trapeze fantasies or something? And

how old are you? Sixty? Eighty-

four?” Her mouth trembled as she

held a smile back.

The pressure in his chest lessened.

“Eighty- three.

Don’t

age

me

before I’m ready.”

“You’re not too old. I’m not too

young.”

She stayed where she was, his

hand in both of hers. Those big

brown eyes watching him carefully.

Waiting for him. Christ. She had no

idea what that did to him.

“I’m forty. I’m nearly twice your

age.”

“So what?”

“Yeah. So what?” He took his

hand from hers and touched her chin,

tipping it. “I want your mouth.”

Her eyelids slid down a little and

she took a deep breath. “Take it,

then.”