Page 13 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

“I’m winding down now rather than taking on new people.

I’d like to spend more time working for those nonprofits I mentioned.

In addition to working with older people, I also counsel couples in getting their finances together.

You’d be amazed how many young people don’t realize they should enroll in their company’s 401k plan as soon as they can, especially if there’s matching. ”

“I’ll have to remember that when my kids go to work.”

She shook her finger at him. “Are you enrolled in your 401k?”

He grinned. “401k, HSA, anything that’s tax-deferred. As well as a Roth.”

She held up her hand, and he gave her a high five. “Way to go,” she said.

“But I won’t tell you I didn’t enroll until I was in my early thirties.”

She sagged in her seat. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry for you. Through the nonprofit, I give classes to high school kids about finances, how to avoid debt, all that stuff. I love it. My goal is to get them started off on the right foot.”

“That’s admirable.”

“Thank you.” His words made her glow inside. “That’s what having an accountant for a father did for me. Not boring at all.” Her dad had been a great guy. She always remembered him that way instead of what the Alzheimer’s did to him. And to her mother.

“Absolutely not boring,” Jared echoed her.

Their food arrived, steaming plates of lamb and roast beef, and an extra gravy boat.

After she thanked the waiter and he’d left, she leaned in.

“Would you look at those Yorkshires? They haven’t deflated.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone to a restaurant and been served a collapsed Yorkshire. ”

“When you called it pudding, I thought of…” He waved a hand over his plate. “The chocolate or vanilla pudding we have back home.”

“I have no clue why they’re called pudding. All I know is how delicious they are.”

The Yorkshires stood at least four inches tall, golden brown, crispy on the outside, with a depression in the center that would take almost an entire gravy boat to fill.

“It’s just milk and flour and eggs,” she explained.

“But the trick is heating the oil in the oven first, so the Yorkshire batter sizzles when you pour it in. That makes them puff up like this.” She waved a hand over their plates, then pushed the gravy boat at him.

“Fill it up with gravy. Yorkshires are really just the gravy carriers.”

He did exactly as she told him, smiling skeptically the whole time.

“The roast potatoes are so crispy on the outside.” She pointed. “Look at all these crispy bits off the bottom of the pan. This place is perfect.”

“You’re a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding connoisseur?”

“Oh yes.” She nodded vigorously, then had to push her hair out of her face. “My mother and her friend taught me how to make Yorkshire pudding.”

“Was your mom British?”

She shook her head as she cut into the tender lamb, the meat almost falling apart as she sliced. “They were friends with a British couple. The wife, Hazel, taught us both. She was a proper British lady and a fabulous cook and baker. We had many lovely afternoon teas together.”

“That’s sounds wonderful.” He picked up his knife and fork. “Okay, here goes.” He cut into his Yorkshire, the gravy dribbling out the side.

When he went to take a bit of meat with it, Piper held up a hand. “Try it on its own. Then you’ll get the full effect.”

With a forkful in his mouth, he closed his eyes, chewed. Then he smiled, savoring it just the way she’d hoped he would. “Damn. How did I not know about Yorkshire pudding?”

She put down her knife and fork, sat back and laughed. “You see?” She stabbed a finger at him. “That’s exactly why I lost my phone. So you could find it. Otherwise, you’d never have known about the deliciousness of Yorkshire pudding. Now try your roast beef.”

As he savored a piece of meat, he groaned. It was so sexual she actually found herself liquefying.

Wow . This man could be dangerous.

“Really good,” Jared said. And he meant it.

But even more than the delicious food and the unique taste of the Yorkshire pudding, he enjoyed her reaction.

She seemed elated that she could introduce him to a new delicacy, and her delight lit up her robin’s egg blue eyes.

Seeming ten years younger—not that her age mattered—she was a beautiful woman and in excellent shape.

More so than women he knew who were years younger than her.

Jared didn’t normally indulge in business dalliances while he was attending a conference or other work function.

But there was something about her that made him want to break his rule.

He had two free days before the conference started, so maybe it wouldn’t count as a business dalliance.

She noticed his smile. “Now you have to try the cauliflower cheese. Have you ever had that before?”

“Can’t say that I have.” He speared a flower drenched in the creamy sauce.

His ex-wife, though an excellent cook, had never been adventurous in the kitchen.

Just as she’d never been adventurous in the bedroom.

Maybe it was that lack of adventure in their lives that eventually led to their marriage’s demise.

Erica never wanted to take a vacation without the kids.

Not that he didn’t love his kids, but once in a while, especially on their anniversary, it would have been nice to be just the two of them.

To rent a cottage for a weekend where he could make her scream.

Erica had forgotten how to scream in pleasure, always wanting to keep it quiet because of the kids.

People changed according to their circumstances, adjusted their priorities.

And their marriage had long since stopped being her priority.

Honestly, he didn’t want to think about his marriage now, or his ex-wife. And he savored the delicious cauliflower cheese, as she called it, the vegetable just past being crunchy, but far from mushy. He made a noise of gastric pleasure.

The blue of her eyes changed to something hot, like the center of a flame. “Delish?” Her voice brimmed with an excitement that seemed almost sexual.

Focusing on her face, especially on her luscious lips, he said, “Totally delish.” He sounded like his teenage daughter when she watched the next-door neighbors’ son mow the lawn without a shirt on.

Piper pushed the gravy boat toward him. “You need more gravy. Pour it over the potatoes and the meat and mix everything together to eat it.”

He couldn’t help smiling as he poured more thick, beefy gravy over everything except the cauliflower cheese. He might never have had Sunday roast, but he figured you didn’t mix gravy with the cheese sauce.

For the next fifteen minutes, they spoke little, making sounds of pleasure, almost as if they were having sex.

She made no secret of enjoying her physical pleasures. He couldn’t say why he was obsessed by sexual thoughts, turning everything she said and did into an innuendo.

Had it really been that long? Yeah. Months.

Even as the VP, the new product release consumed him, working long hours, coming home simply to fall in bed and sleep until the alarm pierced his eardrums. Maybe that was part of Erica’s problem with the marriage.

While working on something new, he lost all sense of time and place, arriving late for dinner, sometimes missing the kids’ weekend games.

Since the divorce, however, he’d done his best to be there for the kids when it was his week to have them.

Even if he hadn’t been there enough for Erica.

Piper wiped her plate with the last of her Yorkshire pudding and popped it in her mouth.

Jared poked fun at her. “Maybe you should lick the plate clean now.”

Her laugh was delicious, reaching inside him, something sultry and seductive. Oh yeah, he had sex on the brain. But he wasn’t about to ask her. She didn’t look like a one-night stand woman. Not even a jump-in-the-sack-on-the-first-date kind of lady.

She was classy, yet she was funny too. And the sensual quality of her laugh made him wonder if it was a myth that older women no longer wanted sex. Her enjoyment of Sunday roast was too erotic to believe she no longer enjoyed sex just as voraciously.

“If we weren’t in a restaurant, I probably would lick the plate.” She pointed to his. “And I’d lick yours too.”

He was suddenly so hard that his slacks were tight across his lap.

Did she have any clue what she was doing to him?

No, she couldn’t. Her smile was too broad to be hinting at sex.

Leaning her elbows on the table, she clasped her hands.

“And now for pudding.” She cocked her head.

“I told you the British sometimes call it pudding instead of dessert, right? When they ask what you want for pudding, they don’t mean just a flavor, they mean anything you want.

” She gave him a cheeky grin. “At least if it’s on the menu. ”

There she went again with those sexual innuendos that she probably had no idea she was making. He wanted to adjust his pants, but he kept his hands above the table.

The busboy whisked away their plates, and the waiter was right there with the dessert menu. Jared couldn’t help a laugh. “It actually says pudding menu.”

The waiter looked down at him and drawled, “Obviously you’re a Yank.” There was no rancor in his tone.

Piper asked, “Is your trifle fantastic?”

The young man folded his arms over his chest. “To use an Americanism I’ve heard on the telly, it’s to die for.”

She licked her lips, then looked at Jared. “You wanna get two puddings and share?”

He wanted to share whatever she would give him. “Great idea.”

She ordered the trifle and the sticky toffee pudding.

“With a name like sticky toffee pudding, you can’t beat it,” he said.

The waiter was kind enough to bring them half servings of each in separate dishes, thought it saddened Jared. He’d imagined feeding spoonfuls to each other.

After he sampled each, she looked at him with wide, gleaming eyes. “Trifle? Or sticky toffee pudding?”

The pudding was damn good, a sponge cake filled with dates, drizzled with warm toffee-flavored syrup, and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. But whipped cream smothered the trifle, and he imagined licking all that whipped cream off her body.

“Trifle,” he said and wondered if the smile on his face looked as lascivious as he felt.

She mistook his smile for something completely different.

“It’s the sherry on the lady fingers. My mom’s British friend Hazel always said you could never have too much sherry in your trifle.

” She popped another bite in her mouth, savoring with her eyes closed.

“Of course you have to eat trifle right away. It gets watery the next day, and it’s not as good.

I always make a small trifle we can finish in one sitting. ”

He wondered who the “we” was? The friend who’d canceled? Her ex-husband? Or maybe a lover. He was absolutely sure this woman had a lover. She was just too sensual not to indulge. Maybe it was the lover who’d canceled. Or a friend with benefits.

The idea was so intriguing he shifted in the chair, once again trying to ease the tightness of his slacks.

The waiter cleared away their empty dishes and asked if they wanted coffee. Piper looked at Jared. “We could skip coffee here and get a mocha or a latte somewhere, then sit out by the river? But whatever you want.”

Whatever he wanted. Everything she said went to his little head. Even if she meant nothing by it. “Let’s sit by the river.” He wanted more time with her.

The waiter brought the bill, and though Jared reached for it, she snapped it away. “My treat. I want to thank you for finding my phone.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

She pursed her lips as if she were a prim schoolteacher. Or rather, a matronly accountant. Not that she was the least bit matronly, especially in those sexy leggings.

As they got up to leave, she said, “I just need to use the ladies’ room.”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

Which was good. Hopefully, with a few minutes of deep breathing—when he wasn’t scenting her fruity lotion or perfume or whatever it was—he could get his body under control.

He was afraid, though, that she’d say something else that got him going all over again.

And he actually wished she would.