Page 23 of Mine This Time

Chapter Twenty-One

Nash

“Too much what?” I asked.

Mari rested her elbows on the counter opposite the stovetop where I was cooking and shook her head slowly. “Let’s see. You’re a wealthy real estate investor. You’re handsome, and you even have a good story. To top it off, you cook.”

“I have a story?” I turned off the burner under the onions and mushrooms I’d been sautéing.

“Yes,” Mari replied with a slight roll of her eyes.

“I can see the opening lines in the story. Local boy, born and raised on the Gulf Coast from humble beginnings. Parents are still together and keep him grounded while he makes money hand over fist. The too much is you cooking. I can already tell it’s good because it smells divine in here. ”

I chuckled as I turned to check the shrimp in the steamer basket. “I enjoy cooking, and my mama insisted I learned when I was growing up.”

“Does your father cook?”

“Oh, yes. Both of my parents have French Creole in their roots. It’s a requirement to be able to cook.” I turned the burner off under the shrimp and lifted the pot to set it inside the stainless steel sink opposite the kitchen island.

“Do you need any help?”

Mari’s voice was closer this time, and I turned to find that she had rounded the island.

She stopped at my side, and I couldn’t resist leaning over to dust a kiss across her lips.

I should’ve known better. The moment I touched her, electricity zinged through me.

Her lips were too damn tempting. They were bow-shaped, and her bottom lip was plump.

When I pulled back, I was gratified to see her cheeks tinged pink, and a reluctant smile curling the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t need any help, but thanks for asking,” I replied.

“What goes with the shrimp?”

“Just some rolls. Now, I can’t take credit for those. My mama brought the dough over this afternoon when she dropped off Star. All I did was bake them and brush them with butter.”

“Can I set the table or anything?” Mari prompted.

“If you insist. Plates are over there,” I said, nudging my chin toward one of the cabinets. The cabinets had paned glass doors, so she could see where I meant. While she set the table, I got the platter with rice, onions and mushrooms ready and put the shrimp in another bowl with melted butter.

Eating with Mari was a unique form of temptation. It was simply good food, but the way she threw herself into it, well, my body definitely noticed.

“Oh my God,” she said with a moan after she finished the last bite on her plate.

My mind clicked onto a memory from last night, as her body quickened just before her release.

I forcibly shoved those thoughts away. If I was going to have any shot with Mari—at making her see me as more than a flash in the pan who came along at an unsettling point in her life—I needed to proceed with caution.

“Good?” I asked as I set my own fork down and took a sip of my water.

“Delicious. You can tell your father I thought it was amazing. I’m not the greatest cook. Adequate is the word I would use to describe my cooking skills.”

“You don’t need to be a great cook, Mari.”

Her eyes snagged mine. Heat flared there, the banked embers of passion that never seemed to cool when we were near each other. Directly on its heels was a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze.

I decided a change of subject was in order. “Now that you’re not starving, let me clean up, and we can have drinks in the living room.”

Mari stood quickly. “Oh, no you don’t. You cooked, so I’m cleaning up. I can either wash these plates myself or put them in the dishwasher, whatever you prefer.”

I shrugged as I stood and followed her over to the kitchen sink. “Dishwasher is perfectly fine.” Star followed us over, and I reached into one of the cabinets to pull out her small canister of treats. I handed one to Mari. “Go ahead and give her one. She’ll expect it.”

Mari held the treat flat on her palm, and Star obediently sat down. She knew the drill. “Good girl,” Mari said after Star gobbled up the treat.

Mari began rinsing the plates, and I called over my shoulder, “What would you like to drink? Wine, bourbon, or whiskey?”

“I’ll take wine. After that meal, I need something on the mellow side.”

“Red or white?” I pulled out two wine glasses and turned, resting my hips against the counter just as she leaned over to put a plate in the dishwasher.

Of course, unbeknownst to her, she offered me a near perfect view down her blouse.

She was wearing a loose white cotton blouse that tied in a knot at the top, paired with a flowy skirt.

She was somehow both casual and business looking at the same time.

I could see the cream lace of her bra peeking out and the curve of her breasts. I had a visceral hit of a memory—her musky scent and the way her skin felt under my lips when I swirled my tongue around one of her ruched nipples.

“White, don’t you think?” Mari asked as she straightened and turned to reach for the second plate in the sink.

I’d completely forgotten my question. Martyr that I was when it came to Mari, I watched as she leaned over to put the second plate in the dishwasher.

I had to curl one hand tightly around the counter, so fierce was the need pulsing in my veins.

It was like a peat fire burning underground, nearly impossible to put out.

Peat fires could burn for years and years.

“Nash?” Mari prompted when she straightened again and closed the dishwasher.

“White sounds perfect, nice and cool,” I belatedly replied.

I released the edge of the counter and turned away to fetch a bottle of wine from the rack under the island.

“Your dishwasher is almost full,” she commented. “Should I go ahead and start it?”

Filling our glasses, I kept my eyes studiously focused on my task. I didn’t need to keep ogling her. “Go ahead. You can set it to run after midnight, so we don’t need to listen to it.”

I mentally dodged the implications of having Mari here at my house. I’d only built this house a few years back and hadn’t had a single woman spend the night here. That wasn’t really something I did. I worked. All the damned time.

“Do you trust me to handle setting it?” she teased as she reached for the dishwasher soap on the counter by the sink.

I held both glasses of wine in my hands when I looked back at her. “I trust you completely, Mari.”

Her question had been simple, and my answer felt weighted. Mentally brushing away that implication, I turned to walk into the living room with the wine. I heard the click of Star’s claws on the wooden floor as she followed me into the living room.

Star curled up on her bed beside the fireplace.

Considering I rarely used the fireplace, it amused me that was where she preferred to sleep.

The day’s heat was dissipating, so after I set the wine glasses on the coffee table, I crossed the room to turn off the air conditioning and open a few windows.

Mari’s voice reached me just as I was opening the last window. “I do love the sound of crickets at night.”

Turning, I gestured towards the sofa. “Have a seat. That’s why I like to open the windows after the heat cools a bit.”

Mari sat near the corner of the sectional, tucking her foot under her knee. Much as I wanted to sit immediately beside her, I kept a full cushion between us as I sat near the other end of the coffee table and reached for my wine. I nudged my chin toward the other glass. “Help yourself.”

Mari lifted it and took a swallow. My eyes were immediately drawn to where she slid her tongue over the rim of the glass before lowering it. “Oh, that’s delicious. What kind of wine is it? I freely admit to not being a wine connoisseur.”

“I’m not either. I get whatever the place right down the street from my office building recommends. This is a Pinot Grigio. Tom, the owner, promised me it was delicious,” I said with a shrug and a grin.

“I’d say Tom was right.” Mari’s eyes scanned the room. “This is a gorgeous space. Very mellow and not ostentatious at all.”

“Did you expect it to be ostentatious?” I teased.

“Well, maybe. You are quite wealthy, so the rumors say.”

“Money doesn’t change who I am. Sure, I wanted a nice place and a good piece of property. But more than anything, I wanted it to be comfortable.”

Mari smoothed her hand over the sofa cushion between us, her mouth curling in a slow smile. “It’s definitely comfortable.”

“So, tell me about today.”

Mari updated me on her meeting with Hannah and her other stops.

When I asked what other stories she did, she commented, “I do a bit of everything. Like I explained, I kind of ended up with this job by happenstance. I do enjoy it. It’s flexible.

The pay isn’t the best, but at least I’m not freelancing, and I have benefits.

Max would love it if I worked for him.” Mari paused to sip her wine, holding it up to the light and spinning the glass between her fingers.

“I don’t really want to work for Max. I love him, but he can be overbearing. ”

“He’s your older brother. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be overbearing, although I can imagine it feels that way to you.”

Mari laughed softly.

“Do you think you’ll keep doing what you’re doing?”

Mari sipped her wine as she regarded me before lowering her glass.

“For now, but not forever. At the moment, as you well know, I’ve got more than enough going on.

Maybe once I can resolve this mess and figure out where I want to be, I’ll consider other options.

Meanwhile, I’ll stick with it. Did you ever consider leaving New Orleans? ” she asked, shifting the focus to me.

I shook my head. “No. I enjoy traveling, but this is home for me.”