Chapter 20
GRAHAM
Milo and I bonded over soccer. He'd started firing questions the second Lori opened the door. He showed no sign of stopping while they gave me a tour of the two-bedroom house. The kitchen was separated from the dining area by a sliding wall made out of stained glass.
"And I thought I'd heard every soccer-related question," Lori murmured as we took the dinner ingredients from out of the shopping bags. I only needed Lori to provide me with salt, pepper, and oil.
She smacked her forehead. "I ran out of olive oil the other day. There's a convenience store one block away."
"Want me to go?"
"Mooom, please don't make Graham go. I have to talk with him about the foul in the last game." Milo was perched on a stool, clasping the edges with both hands.
"I'll go. It's close," Lori said.
"I'll get started here."
After she left, Milo hopped off his chair, leaning against the counter while I was slicing potatoes. His soccer knowledge was impressive.
"Can I have orange juice?" he asked when he paused for a breather.
"Sure," I said automatically… but then I wondered if I should have given it more thought, because Milo kept glancing over his shoulder at the entrance door while he took the orange juice out of the fridge, as if he was sneaking around.
He put the carton back right after he poured himself a glass, which he asked me to rinse after he drank it. I became even more suspicious. Somehow, I didn't think seven-year-olds tidied up after themselves unless they wanted to cover their tracks.
"Do you go to the stadium to watch every game?" he asked.
"Not all of them. We could go together sometime. If it's okay with your mom."
"Can-I-have-popcorn-while-we-watch? And-ice-cream?" he asked, all in one breath it seemed. Were those trick questions?
I didn't know what the protocol was, but common sense dictated I should ask Lori first before committing to anything. Said common sense flew out the window when Milo put his hands together as if in a prayer. How much harm could some popcorn and ice cream do?
"Pleaaase."
Then he widened his eyes. How could I not say yes to that? I had to ask Lori.
"Sure."
By the time she returned, I'd already sliced all the potatoes and the oven was the right temperature.
"You've had orange juice," she exclaimed the second she saw Milo. Turning to me, she explained, "Ground rule: no sugary drinks allowed in the evening."
"Duly noted," I said.
Milo's grin was contagious. That little marauder had me in the palm of his hand. He'd charmed me faster than even his mother had.
"Milo, go wash your hands and then set the table," Lori instructed. Milo left the room without arguing. I couldn't help smiling.
The corners of Lori's mouth twitched. "He played you."
"No, he didn't." I tried to hold my ground, but hey, she'd busted me, so why not man up and admit I'd been played by a seven-year-old? "How could you tell? He put the carton back in the fridge and I washed the glass."
"Never wipes the corners of his mouth. They were a little orange."
"By the way, I also agreed to buying him ice cream and popcorn when I take you both to a game."
"I was gone fifteen minutes. How did the shit hit the fan so quickly?"
"Babe, his eyes were this wide." I held out my fingers like goggles in front of my eyes to demonstrate.
"Ah, he brought out the big guns. You'll grow immune to it."
Didn't seem likely. Milo had me wrapped around his little finger. But I didn't want to waste time challenging her assumption. I had other things on my mind. I glanced over my shoulder to confirm that Milo wasn't on his way in. We were in the clear. I backed Lori against the counter.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm about to kiss you. Have a problem with that?"
She wiggled her ass a little. "Not at all."
I brought her sweet face close to mine and sealed my mouth over hers.
This was heaven. She was my heaven. I'd seen her this morning.
How could I need her so much already? At this stage, we were just supposed to get to know each other better.
I was supposed to take her out, show her and Milo a good time, but not go around promising him things, bonding with him.
My rational side was warning me that I was already in too deep with Lori, that I should stomp the brakes.
My instincts bulldozed over my rational side.
Holding her in her kitchen and kissing her was exactly what I wanted to do.
"Stop that sound," she whispered as she pulled back.
"What sound?"
"I'm not sure. Was it a growl? Was it a groan? Sexy as hell, anyway. Makes me want to climb you."
"Jesus, Lori. How d'you expect me to control myself when you say that?"
"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself." She gave me a sassy smile, but moved away as we heard Milo gallop through the house.
"What are all those herbs for?" she asked while Milo set the table. He was proficient enough that it was clear he did it quite often. I was impressed by Lori's education skills. You wouldn't have caught me dead doing a chore at his age.
"Thyme and oregano. They're great with fries."
"And what kind of cheese is this? Cheddar?"
"No. Something better. You'll see."
"You should be a chef," she said.
"It's my hobby."
"You're a pro at it."
"I considered going to culinary school in my twenties, after college." The buns were almost roasted. Everything else was ready.
"What made you change your mind?"
"I loved the club more than cooking. I worked there straight after college.
When my grandfather died, my father took over.
He'd never worked before, so he made a mess of things, nearly bankrupted the club.
He convinced Nana to put up the restaurant as collateral for another debt of his.
She nearly lost it. That happened about three years ago.
It's when I took over, before Dad could do more damage. "
"Why do I get the impression you don't get along with your dad?"
"Because I don't. I didn't get along with my grandfather either. He put Nana through a lot with his cheating. Dad didn't do much better in that department."
"How did you save the club and the restaurant?"
I hesitated. "I had a trust fund from my grandfather. I hadn't used it before on principle, and it was enough to get out of trouble."
What was it about this woman that made opening up so effortless? I usually changed the subject when asked about this, but with Lori, I didn't want to hold back or pretend. I wanted to show her all sides of me. And if she didn't like them? Better to find out now than later.
Using my trust fund to bail out the restaurant and club had driven a deep wedge between me and Elizabeth. She didn't speak to me for five weeks after I told her.
She'd always pestered me to use the trust fund for our own benefit, even though we had more than enough money. But we'd always had wildly different opinions of what "enough" was.
"That was clever," Lori said. There was no judgment in her tone, but that could change in time.
For now though, she seemed to like the man I was.
It made me want to back her against that counter and kiss her until she begged for more.
She winked and blew me an air kiss when Milo wasn't looking.
Sassy woman. I'd show her who was in charge here as soon as dinner was over.