CHAPTER 8
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Rachel
Rachel stepped outside onto her back patio. Her attention immediately zoned in on the fire pit—unused and unkept since the last night spent with Ian. Sighing at the flurry of unwelcome goosebumps erupting along her skin, she shrugged.
“I’m so sick of these constant, stupid reminders,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. Lifting her line of sight to Miguel’s house, she forced the frown on her lips upside down.
So long, Ian. For good this time.
“It wasn’t really you I missed anyway,” she whispered. Recalling Miguel’s sweet, sincere gestures and warm embrace, the Ian-shaped hole in her heart shrank.
Picking up a log and a handful of kindling, Rachel dropped the pile of wood into the pit and constructed a makeshift teepee. She reached for the lighter fluid and soaked the bits of wood. As she inhaled a deep breath, the fresh outdoor air filtered through her lungs. It was the first day in over a week since the plague stole her life.
A text buzzed against her hip. Pulling the phone from her pocket, she grinned at Miguel’s message. Running a little late, Sunshine. But I’ll be there before sunset. Giggling at his note, she pocketed the phone and dropped a lit match into the pit. Butterflies tickled her belly as fire sparked and smoke billowed from the brick circle, coating the air with the familiar scent of camping.
Rachel inhaled the smells of her childhood and sank into the nearest lawn chair beside the fire. Grinning at the normalcy returning to her world after a week lost to illness, she closed her eyes until the singsong ringtone of her iPhone interrupted the moment of peace. Rose’s name appeared and she tapped accept.
“So? What did he say?”
Rachel tilted her head. Huh? “Wait, what?” she choked out.
“What did he say? What did Miguel say? Did I get the job?”
Releasing a breath, Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Umm, I have no idea.” Her gaze fell to the fire, and she stood to add another log. “Did you interview or some—”
“Yes!” she yelled, her enthusiasm bursting against her ear like a police siren announcing the start of a parade. “First thing this morning. How do you not know this? I thought you were dating him?”
Rachel snorted. “Ah, kinda.” Not officially. “I haven’t talked to him today. I had like a million clients to call back and reschedule showings for. But Miguel is on his way over here right now.” She smacked a mosquito on her shin and frowned. “Rose—”
“Oh, I hope he liked me. This would be absolutely amazing,” she rambled. “Pier Ninety-Two is perfect. It’s exactly what I want.”
Nodding along to her sister’s string of affirmations, Rachel smirked as the glow of light above Miguel’s backdoor drew her eye, flickering in the hazy sunset of the late summer evening.
He’s home.
“Rose,” Rachel tried again.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sure you did great.” She stared across the lawn as Miguel emerged out of the backdoor, his arms laden with supplies for s’mores and a six pack of beer. “But ah, can I call you back? He’s on his way over and—”
“Rach, I’d owe you forever if you can make this happen for me. Cole... and umm, the wedding...”
Nodding along to her sister’s pleas, she blushed as Miguel waved and opened the gate before stepping onto her property. “I know. I gotta go though, okay? I’ll text you as soon as I can,” she whispered and ended the call.
Rachel stuffed the phone in her pocket and embraced the flush on her cheeks as his long, sexy strides crossed the yard.
“Hey there, Sunshine,” he said before pressing a kiss on her cheek. “How ya feeling?”
Her stomach flip-flopped at the touch of his lips—the butterflies in her tummy already warmed up for a night of dancing. “Better now,” she answered and returned a kiss on his scratchy, unshaven cheek. Oh. I like the scruff. “First day I’ve felt like myself again.”
Miguel nodded and dropped the s’mores supplies on the patio table. “Me too, actually.” He inhaled a deep breath and eyed the growing flames in the pit. “I think I slept for like thirteen hours last night. Felt a lot better this morning though.”
And that’s totally my fault.
Rachel cringed. “I’m so sor—”
Miguel pressed a single finger on her lips and smiled. “Stop apologizing.”
The breath left her, escaping in a single rush of air. “But I got you sick.”
He grinned again and moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “If you haven’t noticed yet, I really didn’t mind,” he whispered and leaned in.
His mouth moved, commanding her lips with a kiss of intimacy and longing. Tingles danced along her spine, branching out to every nerve cell as the new sensation awakened her recovering body. “Mmm...” She groaned and basked in the growing comfort his arms now offered.
Giggling at the pressure building in her lower belly, she lifted her arms to cup his warm cheeks. “And if next time it’s worse?” she whispered against his lips.
He snickered and squeezed her hips in jest. “I’m not sure it gets worse than the plague, but any germs you have, I’ll gladly accept if it means I get to kiss you like this again.”
Her chest warmed, the heat rising to re-flush her face as his sweet and sensual words crashed over her. Swallowing the excitement flooding her veins, Rachel dragged a hand through his dark hair and gripped the back of his neck until the ring of his phone broke the moment of connection.
“Ugh,” he murmured and yanked the phone from the pocket of his light gray gym shorts. His gaze dropped to the screen, and he rolled his eyes. “It’s the restaurant.”
“Go on, take it.” Running her hand down the length of his chest, she toyed with the hem of his faded t-shirt and grinned at the original, iconic Yellowcard logo.
Miguel squeezed his eyes closed. Bringing the phone to his ear, he choked out, “Yeah?”
His following words muffled against her ear as she pressed her cheek to his hard chest. The muscles beneath the cotton flexed against her touch, his arms unable to release her as he continued the conversation. Each word he spoke vibrated against her ear, tickling like pinpricks.
“I know, I know,” he repeated and threaded his hands through her tangled hair. “I get it,” Miguel added. “It’s less than ideal. But Michelle, I promise, I’ve got a strong lead—a real one this time—on a new head chef. It’s just a matter of time. Hang in there, please.”
A good lead on a new head chef?
Pulling her head from his chest, she stared into his dark eyes.
Miguel winked.
“Rose?” she whispered.
With a nod, he continued talking until his finger tapped the red button on the screen. Pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, he groaned. “I’m sorry about that,” he whispered.
“Don’t be. Trust me, I’ve spent most of my adult life listening to my sister about the ins and outs of running a kitchen.”
Snorting, he pulled away and cracked open the first beer. “Cheers, Rach.” He placed the bottle in her grasp and reached for a second. He clinked his against hers and the grin on his lips grew. “So, you know I met your sister this morning,” he teased with another wink.
Rachel nodded and took the first sip. “And?”
“And...” Miguel gulped and set the bottle down on the table. “I feel like I can finally relax. After all these months struggling without a lead in the kitchen, Rose will be the perfect fit.”
Her heart swelled. Adrenaline shot through her veins as Miguel’s words sank into her brain—two problems seemingly solved for the price of one.
“Miguel! Oh, my God!” Snuggling back into his chest, she wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. The soft scent of citrus clung to his t-shirt, as if he had just stepped out of an orange grove. As she inhaled the intoxicating smell, a pull in her groin dizzied her brain.
“She came in to interview and she’s absolutely everything I’ve been looking for. She’s charming. Talented. Has unbeatable experience...” He ticked off her points of pride one finger at a time. “And most importantly, fits in with the kitchen staff as if she’s already worked there for years.” He kissed the top of her head. “I, umm.” Miguel blushed. “I didn’t want to look too desperate, so I haven’t called her back yet to offer her the job.”
Rachel snorted.
If you only knew how desperate she was to get that call.
“I have no doubt she’s staring at her phone as we speak.” Snickering into his chest, she closed her eyes and exhaled, relishing the moment of shared relief.
His arms tightened around her. “I promise, I’ll call her first thing in the morning. The job is without a doubt hers.”
She nodded as his body swayed side-to-side, and a gentle summer wind blew, stirring up the dust and dirt on the patio floor.
“How did I suddenly get so lucky?” he whispered and tipped her chin up. Miguel’s soft brown eyes searched hers, darting back and forth as he studied her face. “It’s like you just appeared, ready to solve all of my problems.”
Warmth blanketed her body, descending in a rush as his mouth returned—his kiss sweet and sincere.
“Rachel,” he whispered.
Her name on his lips roused her body, reminiscent of the first dinner they shared at Pier Ninety-Two. With a sigh of growing contentment, she lifted her arms to cup the back of his neck.
“Oh, shit that’s cold!” Laughing, he tugged her arms away and ran a hand along the back of his neck with a silly grin. Gesturing to the beer in her hands, he chuckled.
“Ah! I’m sorry!” Rachel giggled and set the beer on the table beside the box of graham crackers.
“Don’t be,” he whispered and pulled her nearer once more.
His sexy smile stole her heart. Rachel swallowed the disbelief invading her throat—the sudden perfect man standing right in front of her after so much disappointment and heartache.
And you’re asking me how you got so lucky?
Rachel sighed and her gaze drifted to the slowly smoldering fire. Pulling away, she bent down to toss another log on the flames. “Sorry. I think I’m failing at my duties here as fire master.”
With a snort, Miguel gripped her waist and sank into a lawn chair before pulling her onto his lap. “Fire master, huh? That’s quite the title you’ve given yourself.” He play-pinched her side.
Oh!
She laughed and squirmed, sliding against the soft material of his shorts. “My house. My firepit,” she choked out amidst snickers.
“Is that so?” His palm stalled on her thigh and with a squeeze, he pressed a kiss to the skin beneath her ear.
“Well then, fire master, I think I owe you a sincere thanks.”
Rachel wrinkled her nose. “For what? My pyro skills?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, a few other things, actually.” Miguel leaned to his side and picked up both bottles of beer. Replacing hers in her grasp, he tipped his to his lips and gulped. “First, for sending me your sister. She’s honestly going to solve a lot of problems for me at Pier Ninety-Two. I can feel it—she’s going to be a great fit.”
Rachel nodded and dragged a single finger down the length of his scratchy cheek, consciously taming her body’s reaction to the scruff. That five o’clock shadow though... “She’s wonderful. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”
He nodded. “The thought never crossed my mind, Sunshine.”
Placing her thumb on his bottom lip, she toyed with the soft flesh until his tongue tasted her skin. The new sensation stole the breath from her lungs, squeezing her stomach with arousal and intrigue.
Gulping a breath of the slowly cooling night air, she savored the smile consuming her lips, put in place by the man beneath her. His sudden, perfectly timed appearance in her life was the exact thing she both needed and didn’t anticipate.
“What else?” she whispered and sank lower onto his lap.
His breath hitched as she rubbed against his pelvis. With a grin, he caught her eye and swallowed. “And,” he mumbled before dipping his hand beneath the hem of her tank top. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” Miguel rested his forehead against hers as the darkness overtook the last remaining flickers of the setting sun. “I got the feeling that—”
Rachel pressed her lips to his, moving her mouth to the rhythm of her own steady heartbeat. Each beat beneath her chest pounded, egging her on as his heart thumped beneath the palm of her hand.
“Please forget everything I texted you that morning,” she pleaded between kisses.
“Why?” he choked out and lowered his hands to grip her hips.
“Because.” Rachel breathed, allowing her lids to flutter and close as the flames burst before her eyes in the darkness. “I never should have listened to my brother. I don’t need to focus on myself when I have you to distract me.”
Miguel snickered and raised his hands from her hips to explore beneath her shirt. “Why’d you change your mind?”
She smiled against his teasing kisses. “Because when something this good appears right in front of you...”
His mouth consumed hers, stealing her words as the sun fully disappeared for the day. The flames grew in the darkness, fueling the moment of intimacy.
“You don’t question it,” he completed and slowed their lips into a passionate kiss of shared souls.
Her heart fluttered deep within her chest. Lifting her hand to grasp his cheek, Rachel sighed as the memory of Ian flitted away. The spark of their relationship smoldered to ash.
“Let me take you on our first date,” he whispered in her ear.
Giggling at the ridiculousness of his statement while lip-locked, she released a laugh into the cooling summer evening. “I think we’re already dating, Miguel.”
He nodded and returned her smile but removed his hands from beneath her shirt. “I owe you a proper first date, Ms. Rachel Prescott.”
She snorted, but the recall of their budding relationship pierced the forefront of her mind. “I guess our first da—”
“Belonged to some idiot named Trapp, right?”
“Tripp,” she corrected with a chuckle. But Tripp’s memory stirred in her gut, pulling forth the desperate desire of her heart to find love. An image of Pier Ninety-Two appeared in her mind, each twinkle light illuminating Miguel in an angelic haze.
“This weekend,” he whispered. “Let me take you out, Sunshine.”
A fleeting vision of Ian appeared before her eyes as the stars littered the summer sky, a million miles away with the fun facts of science and Greek mythology.
“It’s a date,” she murmured into his ear and tossed the memory aside. Pressing her lips to his once more, she relished the shiver rippling through his body.
Starlight, star bright... the first star I see tonight....
With a wish on the tip of her tongue, she sank into his arms and eyed the glow of the roaring flames.