Red Hot Stakes: A Steamy Single Dad Romance Page 4

  Brandon looked ready to protest, but Ava grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the living room. “I’m too full to eat dessert right now anyway,” she said.

  That left Luke and I standing there. “You don’t have to help with the dishes.”

  He raised an eyebrow—which was definitely a sexy look on him. “What part of ‘this is a thank-you dinner’ don’t you get? Besides, I may not cook, but I have years of experience doing dishes.”

  He picked up several plates and I did too, following him into the kitchen. “How many dishes are there when one gets takeout all the time?”

  Luke grinned, taking the plates from me and setting them by the sink. “It’s not like my kids eat from plastic containers every night. I always put the food on plates.” Apparently taking in my expression, he laughed at himself. “Yet somehow, no one’s awarded me Father of the Year yet.”

  I grinned—his smile was easy to return. “You don’t have to be a good cook to be a good dad.”

  “Thank god for that,” Luke said. He returned from the table with dishes in both hands. “And speaking of that, the pork was incredible. You’re a very good cook.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I feel like I should call up your mother and thank her for teaching you.”

  My smile faded a little, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “She, umm, she passed away my freshman year in college.”

  Luke’s gaze was sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you.” I busied myself at the sink, scraping food off the plates. After a moment I was okay to speak. “She used to love cooking for my dad. He’s Italian, so he’d grown up eating huge feasts.”

  “Italian.” Luke moved beside me, and I could feel him looking at me. “So that’s where you got the name Gabriella. You must know a lot of amazing pasta recipes.”

  “Actually, just a few,” I said. “That was the one thing my mother rarely made. She said any good Italian boy was going to love his mother’s pasta best, and she didn’t want to compete with that.”

  “Your mother sounds like she was a smart woman.”

  “She was.” I missed her, but I’d reached the stage in which talking about her didn’t make me sad anymore—usually. “What about you? What’s your background? Any great-great-great-grandfathers who were gunslingers in the wild west like in your stories?”

  “Nope. Most of my ancestors came from Europe and never settled anywhere west of the Mississippi. Everything I write about comes from my imagination—or research.”

  “Yeah, you sure seem to know a lot about that era.”

  Luke touched my arm, turning me slightly to face him. “You checked out my books?” His touch seemed to sear through my blouse and warm my skin.

  “Yes, I started reading the one about the three brothers.”

  He looked pleased. “What part are you on?”

  “I’m almost to the middle,” I said vaguely, not willing to admit I’d read the sex scene he’d written. “It’s fascinating. You give so many details that it’s like I’m living there with the characters.”

  “That’s kind of what my books are known for. When I first started writing fiction, my agent said that readers didn’t want all those details, but it’s what I knew. I’d taught American History, and I couldn’t bear to let that knowledge go to waste when I started writing fiction. Gradually, I gained an audience of readers who liked that kind of thing.”

  “You described the process of shoeing a horse so well I feel I could do it myself. And I can just picture that house the brothers live in… everything from the loft beds to the wooden stove.” Lost in thought, I smiled, not realizing that I’d laughed out loud until Luke tilted his head at me, one sexy eyebrow raised.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking how everything is so detailed until it comes time for the characters to eat. Then you’re like ‘they ate venison’ and then boom, it’s the next day.”

  Luke chuckled as well. “I guess cooking’s not my thing in any era. I’d never really thought about that before.”

  “I still think it’s a really wonderful book,” I said hurriedly, and he gave me a smile to show he wasn’t upset. His smile was dazzling enough that it made me blush and turn back to the dishes.

  Luke was strangely quiet through most of dessert, but the twins made up for his lack of contributions to the conversation.

  “What are the layers again?” Brandon asked, holding up a short, squat glass that practically contained a week’s worth of calories. I’d made chocolate hazelnut dessert shooters with crumbled nuts on the top. “I mean, I know the first two are whipped cream and chocolate pudding.”

  “And then there’s cake,” Ava said, a smudge of whipped cream on her upper lip.

  “There’s a layer of cookie crumbles before that,” I said.

  “And then the icing,” Brandon said enthusiastically. “Is there more, or did you just make four glasses?”

  “There are a few more in the kitchen. I didn’t know how big your appetites would be.” For some reason, I glanced at Luke when I said that. He seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice.

  “Excellent,” Brandon said.

  The little boy finished all of his dessert as well as the rest of Ava’s. When everyone was stuffed, Luke reminded the twins to thank me and then made them go wash their hands and their faces. Brandon in particular had chocolate pretty much everywhere, but Luke didn’t seem to mind.

  “Gabi, will you play a game with us before you go home?” Ava asked.

  I smiled at her. It was so sweet that she liked spending time with me. I was about to answer that I’d love to, but Luke spoke up first.

  “Actually, I have some things I need to talk to Gabi about. You two can go play in the backyard until it’s time for baths.”

  “We want to stay with Gabi,” Brandon protested.

  “We need to talk about grown-up stuff. Go on, now.”

  Luke’s tone made it clear his words weren’t a request, and the twins seemed to recognize that. It was strange to hear him go into ‘stern dad’ mode, but I guessed all parents had to at one point or another. Ava thanked me again and took her grumbling brother’s arm as she led him out back.

  That left me standing there in the living room desperately wanting to know what Luke meant by ‘grown-up stuff.’ My heart beat faster from being alone with him especially now that we weren’t doing dishes. I suggested we finish them, but Luke invited me to sit on the couch.

  He brought over our refilled wine glasses and sat a few feet away from me, his body angled toward me.

  Nervously, I took a sip. Sitting here together with no noisy little chaperones around felt strangely intimate. Like the family dinner had suddenly turned into a date. The wine heightened that feeling. But I couldn’t tell what Luke was thinking. And the way he stared at me made me squirm a little.

  Finally, he spoke. “You’re an incredible cook. I can’t remember the last time I had a meal that good.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” My voice was shy—a rarity for me. I’d watched him all through dinner, and it had been obvious he’d enjoyed the food. It had made me happy to see how much he savored it. I liked cooking for Kait and Sierra, and sometimes our meals included Ian or Tyler. But cooking for Luke had felt very different than cooking for my friends and their boyfriends.

  Luke took a sip of wine too, studying me intently. “What do you do for a living, Gabi? Ava says you work at an office in the mornings, but Brandon seems to think you spend the whole day in the park.”

  I grinned. That sounded like Brandon. As for my temp job, I hadn’t told the kids much about it because it wasn’t a very cheerful subject. But I told Luke about it now.

  “And do you like doing it?” he asked when I’d finished.

  “Some parts of it. And I like the variety. But… it’s just a job. It’s not doing interesting work like my roommates do.” Briefly I told him about Kait and Sierra’s careers.


  “What was your major in college?”

  “English,” I said, and then flushed. For some reason, it struck me as odd to reveal that to a man who was an actual writer. All I’d done with my degree so far was fill out job applications.

  “Do you like literature?”

  “Some of it,” I said honestly. “But I basically chose English because I didn’t know what else to major in. I’m kind of still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.” Though it was true, I winced inwardly. My words made me sound like a child, and that was the last thing I wanted Luke to think.

  However, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still staring at me curiously. “How attached are you to the temp job?”

  “Not very,” I said without thinking. “But I have to do something—I can’t hang out in the park all day like Brandon thinks. Though it is a lovely spot.” I loved it there with the gentle breeze, and the sound of children playing. Though before I’d met Ava and Brandon, I’d only gone there a few times a month, not a few times a week.

  “So perhaps you’d be interested in a different kind of work?” Luke asked.

  “Like what?” I brought my knees up onto the sofa, tucking my feet under me as I turned toward him.

  “Like working for me.”

  “For you?” I studied his handsome face, trying to ascertain if he was serious. “Doing what?”

  “For starters, watching the kids after school. The incident with the lake showed me how wrong I was to let them go there by themselves.”

  “But it’s just down the street,” I said, feeling the need to defend him from himself.

  “And look what almost happened.”

  He had a point. Though Ava and Brandon had visited the park many times on their own, all it took was one time to have something go very wrong. “So do you mean I’d be like a nanny?”

  Luke set his empty wine glass on the coffee table. “Sort of. The children can play on their own, but I need someone to keep track of them better than I can when I’m writing. And someone to play with them, too. They get along great, but it’s not fair for them to spend the majority of their afternoons by themselves.”

  “I love spending time with them—they’re great kids. Are you just talking a few hours after school?” That seemed doable. Most of the temp jobs weren’t full days of work anyway.

  “Not exactly. That would be just part of the job. I was hoping that you could help me for a few hours in the afternoon before the twins get home.”

  “Help you? How?” My surprise showed in my voice, but I couldn’t imagine this strong, confident man needing my help.

  “Authors often have personal assistants,” he said, looking surprised at my surprise.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know anything about helping a writer.”

  “You’re smart. You were an English major so you must know how to write and do research. I’m starting a new series, one that takes place in an earlier time, when pioneers were first settling the west.”

  “Like the ones who traveled the Oregon Trail?”

  “Around that time period, yes. I’ve been doing a ton of research, but you pointed out something earlier that gave me pause.”

  “What was that?”

  “About how my level of detail is severely lacking when it comes to food preparation. Food storage, too. That kind of thing was make or break for early settlers. So I was thinking that you could help me understand the research so that I can write realistically about it.” He seemed to know I was about to object. “I know you don’t know anything about it, but we can learn together, and your comprehension of those cooking techniques has got to be better than mine.”

  My mind whirled as he talked. It all seemed too good to be true. An interesting job working with kids I loved and a hot-as-hell man? It didn’t even sound like a job, it sounded like something I’d pay for the privilege of being a part of. But I needed more information. If I sounded too eager, he’d think I wasn’t planning on taking the work seriously. “So… part research assistant and part nanny?”

  Luke smiled. “Among other things. There are all sorts of things an author’s assistant does. We’ll experiment with them and see what’s a good fit for both of us. If you’re interested, I was thinking Monday through Friday, from two to about five.” He named an hourly wage which was far more than I earned from the temp agency. I nodded as enthusiastically as I could as he continued. “Of course you’re welcome to stay for dinner, too.”

  I was about to agree when I switched gears, thinking fast. “No, I’ll cook dinner.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that every night.”

  “No, but you can hire me to do that every night. I’ll do the grocery shopping one afternoon a week and cook in the evenings. I can’t even imagine how much you spend on takeout. This’ll be cheaper for you in the long run and healthier for the kids.” His expression was still skeptical. “Look, as you’ve already made clear, this job is a little of one thing and a little of another. So why not cooking? You and the twins have to eat.”

  Luke’s expression was unreadable, but then he nodded. “All right. So let’s say you’ll work from two to seven. But you’re not a maid, the kids and I will help with dishes and clean-up. And I bet Ava will want to help with the cooking, too. She doesn’t know anything about it, but she’s recently expressed an interest… ever since she met you, actually.”

  “I’d love to teach her,” I said beaming. “Is Monday too early to start?”

  “Works for me,” Luke said, but his face wasn’t as open as it had been a few minutes ago.

  I didn’t find out why until I was in the kitchen packing up the dishes I’d brought.

  Luke cleared his throat. “I want to make one thing clear, Gabi.” My name rolled easily off his tongue and sounded good in his rich, throaty voice. “With us working together… and with you cooking for us and eating with us each night, it’s possible the twins might get the wrong idea.”

  For a moment, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but then I did. After all, minutes after I’d first met Luke, they’d already been talking about us dating and getting married.

  Luke continued somewhat awkwardly. “I want you to work for me, but not if it’s going to make Ava and Brandon get their hopes up about something that can never be. So… we need to make it clear to them that this is just a business arrangement. That’s all it can ever be.”

  “I understand,” I assured him hastily. And I did. Letting the twins get the impression that I was a permanent fixture in their lives would be cruel.

  Still, after he and the kids dropped me off back at my house, I sat on the beat-up steps of the porch in the fading light, lost in thought.

  His caveat was a good one. It wouldn’t be fair to let Ava and Brandon think that Luke’s and my relationship was something it wasn’t.

  Still… I had to be honest with myself. When he’d said this was just a business arrangement, something inside me had thudded painfully. It was a strange feeling that at the time I hadn’t wanted to identify.

  But here, in the dark, I could name it for what it was: disappointment.

  7

  Gabi

  “Good afternoon, boss!” I grinned at Luke when he opened the door at two o’clock on Monday. I’d put in four hours for the temp agency this morning, leaving just enough time to freshen up before showing up on his doorstep. My boss—I mean my boss at the temp agency—had been happy to only assign me hours in the morning. Truthfully, that was most of what I’d been getting lately anyway.

  “Come in,” Luke said, returning my grin. God, when he smiled like that, it made it hard to remember he was my employer, nothing more. “I thought that since you’re determined to take on the cooking, then Monday could be the day you go to the grocery store. And if there’s anything you need for the kitchen, you can get that as well.”

  “I can make do with any kitchen,” I said, confident in my abilities.

  A few minutes later, I wasn’t so sure.

  �
��That bad, huh?” Luke said, watching as I examined what I had to work with. The cabinets held an odd assortment of pots and pans, many of which looked like they hadn’t been used in years. The pantry, which should have held culinary staples, was mostly filled with cereal boxes, pre-packaged snacks, and various condiment packets.

  With a barely concealed sigh, I leaned back against the counter, gazing at him—an activity far more pleasant than looking around this sorry excuse for a kitchen. Today, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It was a simple enough outfit, but it looked amazing on him. I still wasn’t sure what he did for exercise, but it was obviously something. His biceps stretched the sleeves of his shirt in a way that was quite mesmerizing.

  “I’ve seen worse,” I said, answering his question. It wasn’t true, but it seemed like the polite thing to say.

  “I may not know much about cooking or kitchens, but I do know the solution to this problem.” Luke winked at me and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Handing me a credit card, he said, “Go at it. Whatever you need. Groceries. Dishes. Do-dads. Gizmos—whatever gets the job done.”

  A laugh rose to my lips. “For someone who can describe every step needed to dig a well or break out of a sheriff’s jail cell, you sure don’t know much about cooking.”

  “That’s why I hired you. Have at it.”

  I questioned him for a bit longer both about what he and the twins liked to eat and how much he wanted me to spend, but he seemed sincere that it was up to me.

  My first afternoon on the job was spent shopping, and after the kids got home from school, I had two eager helpers as we washed out cabinets, tossed some things, and stocked them with others. I figured the free labor would be short-lived. Surely the novelty of having me around would wear off soon and they wouldn’t be so eager to join in domestic tasks.

  On the other hand, it seemed like they hadn’t ever gotten to try their hand at cooking. When it was time to prepare tacos, Ava was thrilled to stir the hamburger on the stove—with my careful supervision, of course. And Brandon enjoyed scooping all the taco toppings into little bowls I’d purchased earlier in the afternoon.