Just a Taste [Private Relations 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Smirking, Deacon said, “Maybe. I’m gonna go say hi. Be back in a second.”

  Chris took a last swig and said, “I’ll come along. It’s been ages since I’ve seen your sister.”

  Deacon tensed, frowning at Chris.

  Chris raised his hands and said, “Easy, buddy. Just saying hello. She’s your little sister.”

  Relaxing, Deacon grabbed his beer and they made their way back to Chloe’s booth. As they made their way through the crowd, Chloe spotted them and stood up.

  “Hey guys!” she said, hugging Deacon and then Chris.

  “Hey. Whatcha up to?” Deacon asked.

  “Hey, Chloe. How’s it going?” Chris asked, glancing down at the other occupant of the table.

  “Oh. Sorry. Hey. This is Kelli. My brother Deacon and his friend Chris.”

  After both he and Chris had said hello and shaken her hand, Chloe asked, “Wanna sit down or did you guys have big plans?”

  Making eye contact with Chris, he received a nod, so they both sat down. Kelli was short, blonde, and bubbly. All of Chris’s requirements. That explained the easy agreement.

  Smiling, he made idle conversation for a bit while Chris chatted up his sister’s friend.

  At one point, he must’ve drifted off because Chloe said, “Deak?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “Sorry. Long day. I was drifting. What did you say?”

  Chloe said, “I asked what you did today.”

  “Not much. I went and got some ramen. Ran into Sara there. We walked around Little Tokyo for a while. Got some coffee. Witnessed some of the most god-awful karaoke of all time. Bought someone’s birthday gift.”

  Eyebrows raised, Chloe asked, “Oh really? How’s that strictly professional relationship going for you?”

  Deacon frowned and said, “Shut it. You were totally right, you brat. We’ll see where it goes.”

  He looked across the table and saw Chris smirking at him.

  Chris snickered and said, “Try not to fuck it up this time. Her food is freaking awesome.”

  Chloe agreed, chiming in with, “Yeah. I had some leftovers of the jambalaya she made the other day. It was freaking amazing!”

  After a few more minutes of good natured ribbing, Deacon was able to refocus attention away from himself.

  Three hours later, the chatter had died down and the group split up. Chloe, Kelli, and Chris had decided to go to a club, but Deacon just wanted to go home and relax. Taking a rain check, he headed home.

  Deciding that he’d had enough beer for the night, he grabbed a bottle of water and turned on the television. Flipping channels, he finally settled on a movie, then promptly fell asleep.

  Waking up to the alarm on his cell phone, he blinked confusedly until he realized he was on his couch. Shuffling into the shower, he managed to work out the kinks in his neck and back. Feeling more refreshed and relaxed, he moved into the kitchen to search for food.

  Opening the fridge, he realized it was bare. Clearly he needed to hit a grocery store today. And the gym. He hadn’t done either yesterday. Smiling, he thought about yesterday.

  Impulsively picking up his phone, he texted Sara. Thinking of you.

  After deciding there was no breakfast to be found, he grabbed his jacket, wallet, cell phone, and keys. He swung by the little bagel shop on the corner and grabbed breakfast, then drove to the grocery store.

  He picked up some basic items, and the ingredients for the pork chop dish that Sara recommended. It looked the easiest by far, but he didn’t want to make a total ass out of himself in the kitchen.

  He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he approached the register. Stopping, he grabbed it and saw he had a new text from Sara. Thanks. But who is this?

  Narrowing his eyes, then smirking, he quickly texted back, Apologies. Wrong number.

  His phone immediately buzzed. Smirking, he read her reply. Thinking of you, too, deacon. Hope your Sunday is awesome.

  He responded back with, Same goes. When will i see you next?

  After a moment, she responded. Wednesday, I think. Unless I die trying to make all these Swedish meatballs.

  Smiling, he said, Now we cant have that. Go kick some Swedish meatball ass. :)

  Realizing that he was grinning like a school girl, he stuck his phone back in his pocket. He was really glad no one he knew had seen the exchange. He was in so much trouble, it wasn’t even funny.

  He wheeled his cart to the checkout, and paid for his purchases. After a quick trip home to drop it off and put it away, he grabbed his gear and headed for the gym. He hit the weights, ran for a half hour on the treadmill, then soaked in the whirlpool until his muscles felt like jelly.

  Having accomplished most of what he wanted to do for the day, he headed home to research more investments. He’d been so wrapped up in the invoicing mess lately that he’d been slacking on other things he needed to accomplish.

  He ended up working straight through the afternoon and didn’t tune back into the real world until around 5:00 p.m. Deciding that he needed to eat, he grabbed the recipe Sara gave him for the pork chops and got to work.

  They were done in about twenty minutes. The potatoes he made to go with them took the longest to make out of everything. It was a quick meal but the kitchen was a mess. After he had cleaned up the horrible aftermath, he sat down with the meal.

  Holy crap. That sauce was amazing. It wasn’t something that he could eat all the time, ‘cause it was mostly heavy cream but…wow. Sara was right on the money with this recipe. It would make him look much more skilled than he was.

  He worked for a few more hours on his restructuring of the accounting department after dinner. Overall, the new department layout was more efficient, and had a better checks and balances system. After sending a quick e-mail to the temporary head of accounting to set a meeting, he headed to bed with a sense of accomplishment.

  It had been a good weekend.

  By the time Tuesday rolled around, his plans were in motion for the accounting staff, and he was mostly back to his normal duties. Around 11:00 a.m. he saw an e-mail pop into his inbox from Sara that promised menus for the next few events.

  The next meeting on the books was tomorrow with Cynertex, a small video game company based outside of Amarillo, TX. They were an up-and-coming group of guys, looking to take their company to the next level through better media exposure and cross marketing. Sara had chosen a casual menu, going with a barbecue theme.

  The following Tuesday they were meeting with the bigwigs from the Wellington Group, the same company that owned TSN. If all went well, they’d end the day with some better connections for their non-sports news. Sara had gone a bit more upscale for this group.

  Considering both menu selections, it was clear that she’d done a bit of research on both companies. Her selections were spot on. He was impressed. Shooting her a quick e-mail, he approved the menus.

  Picking up his cell phone, he texted her to see if she was free for dinner later.

  Sara instantly responded back, saying that she’d be downstairs for prep around 3:00 p.m., but that she didn’t know if she’d be able to break free to leave for dinner. She asked if he’d be interested in a quick meal with her downstairs instead.

  Taking what he could get, Deacon told her he’d bring the dinner and see her around sixish.

  Diving back into the proposal for the Wellington Group, he was able to knock out the majority of the details by the end of the day. Around 5:00 p.m., Chris stuck his head into Deacon’s office and said, “Hey. Busy tonight?”

  Looking up, Deacon said, “Yeah. Dinner plans. What’s up?”

  “The caterer?” Chris asked, smirking.

  Nodding, he said, “Yep. Why do you ask?”

  Chris gave him a smug grin and said, “Jim and I were going to watch the Legion game, but clearly you’ve got better plans.”

  Agreeing, Deacon said, “Definitely better looking plans.”

  Chris laughed and said, “Enjoy your night,” and
followed it up with kissy noises.

  Flipping him the bird, Deacon asked, “Didn’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  Chris laughed again and headed back down the hallway.

  Deacon glanced at the clock and picked up his desk phone. He called in an order to the Thai place down the street. He figured chicken pad thai was a safe choice. Sara struck him as a takeout kind of girl. He couldn’t imagine she’d wanna cook when she got home, after cooking all day for other people.

  Wrapping up the proposal for the Wellington Group, he e-mailed the copies to Jim and Chris. After that, he ran through the proposal for Cynertex again, making sure he hadn’t missed anything.

  By the time the phone rang, he was so deeply engrossed in the contract that he jumped. Picking up the line, security informed him that the delivery man was waiting downstairs. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he made his way down to the lobby.

  After paying the driver, he took the takeout back toward the kitchen.

  Chapter 9

  Sara was hefting the brisket into the oven as the kitchen doors breezed open. Deacon walked in with a couple of takeout bags. Smiling, she closed the oven doors and pulled off her sanitary gloves and hairnet.

  Smirking, Deacon said, “The hairnet. It’s a good look, really.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and said, “Jerk.”

  “But…I’m a jerk with dinner,” he said.

  Sara bit her bottom lip for a moment, as if she was considering, then said, “Very well. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. You’re forgiven.”

  Deacon’s eyes focused in on her mouth. Setting the box down and moving toward her, his eyes darkened with a predatory gleam.

  Immediately sensing the mood change, Sara stepped forward, meeting him halfway. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she pulled his mouth down to hers roughly.

  With a groan, Deacon immediately took control of the kiss, his hands moving to tangle in her hair. Moaning softly, Sara released the lapels of his jacket and slid her hands inside and up across his broad shoulders.

  Deacon continued to devour her mouth for a few moments more, hands tightening in her hair. He broke the kiss, nibbling on her jaw. He worked his way down her throat, dragging his tongue and teeth lightly down the side of her neck until she let out a low whimper.

  He gentled his grip on her hair and eased back from the kiss, seeming to realize he had all but attacked her when he walked through the door.

  Deacon closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath.

  Sara relaxed her fingers and slid them from his shoulders. Leaning her forehead against his chest for a moment, she let out a slow breath.

  Laughing incredulously, she said, “Hello, Deacon. It’s nice to see you, too.”

  Deacon laughed and said, “Hello, Sara. I hope you’ve been having a good day.”

  Laughing, Sara said, “If I wasn’t before, then I am now.”

  Eyeing the bags suspiciously, she said, “Is that really food?”

  Smirking, Deacon said, “Chicken pad thai and a coke.”

  Pulling the containers out of the bag, he passed her one, along with a drink and silverware.

  Grabbing the food, Sara looked around for a place to sit and gestured to the office.

  “We can sit in there. The guy in charge had this amazingly comfy couch brought in.”

  Smiling, Deacon grabbed his food and headed toward the office door. Settling in on one end of the couch, Sara laid her food out in the middle of the couch and opened her drink.

  Looking up at the door, she saw Deacon just standing there watching her.

  He shook his head and softly said, “I really have no idea how I ever walked away from you back then.”

  Snorting and gesturing up and down the length of her body, Sara said, “Clearly you were overwhelmed.”

  Shaking her head with a somewhat sardonic smile on her face, she opened the takeout and sniffed the air appreciatively. Taking a bite and chewing, she said, “Excellent choice.”

  Smiling smugly, he said, “Of course it is.”

  Rolling her eyes, Sara took another bite and then gestured to the kitchen with her fork and said, “As much as I enjoyed that, we really can’t do that here. I’m trying to build a professional reputation.”

  Deacon looked at her for the longest time, then sighed.

  “You’re right. You’re right. It’s totally not fair to you. I own the company so I can just tell people to kiss my ass, but you really don’t have that luxury.”

  Silently, Sara nodded in agreement.

  Tilting his head, he asked, “You didn’t mean altogether, right?”

  Shaking her head, Sara said, “No. I didn’t. But I really can’t have it looking like I fucked you for a contract, either.”

  Blanching slightly at her blunt words, he said, “Wow. Okay. I agree. The last thing I want to do is to cause problems for you. I’ll keep my hands off you when we’re here.”

  “But,” he added, pausing, “for what it’s worth, anyone who’s tasted the food knows why you got the contract.”

  Sara gave a half smile and said, “I’d like to think so. I’m glad you get it.”

  As they returned to their meals, Sara asked, “So Cynertex isn’t your normal type of client, right? They’re video games. Why the big change?”

  Nodding, Deacon chewed and said, “We’re trying to expand into other markets. Chris was helpful in getting us into the sports arena, but we don’t want to be a boutique agency. We’d really like to diversify our client base.”

  Taking another bite, Sara asked, “So is this another step toward total world domination then?”

  Smirking, he said, “Hopefully. I feel like I’d do a damn fine job.”

  Tilting his head, he asked, “What about you? Are you going to go after more long-term contracts or is this just a one off with JDC?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Honestly, this is kind of an experiment for me. We’re still growing and I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew. Overall, dealing business to business is much easier though. There’s vetting and contracts and discussions about expectations. There aren’t any crazy brides, or overbearing mother in laws to fend off.”

  The discussion continued on for a few more minutes until Deacon eventually stood and tossed his garbage into the trash. Sara followed in his wake.

  Turning to face her, he asked, “So, Ms. Westing…when can I see you again in a non-work-related setting?”

  Taking a moment to think, Sara said, “Umm. I can break free Friday after 6:30 p.m?”

  The smile returned to Deacon’s eyes as he said, “I think I can work with that.”

  Taking another step toward her, Deacon reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. She saw his eyes darken and his gaze drop to her mouth.

  As if realizing this was off limits, he withdrew his hand and said, “Don’t work too late.”

  Feeling an inexplicable sense of loss, Sara said, “Only another hour. Thank you for dinner.”

  Smirking, Deacon said, “Consider it a standing date when you’re in the building. Apparently you don’t eat unless someone feeds you.”

  Sara blinked at him, somewhat confused.

  Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “You thought I’d stop having dinner with you because we can’t make out in the kitchen?”

  Seeing the answer in her eyes, he sighed.

  After a moment he said, “You really don’t think much of me, do you? I mean, I guess under the previous circumstances, I get that. I’d really like to change it, though.”

  Sara smiled, feeling almost shy, and nodded.

  “I can see that.”

  Gesturing back toward the kitchen she said, “I’ve gotta get back to it. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bret and I should be here around 10:00 a.m. to finish the rest and set up.”

  Accepting the subject change without question, Deacon said, “We’ll need it set up by 12:30 p.m. in the conference room on twenty-seven. I wanted to mention, by the way, that I really appreciate the th
ought you’ve put into the menu choices.”

  Genuine pleasure lit Sara’s eyes for a moment, then she smiled and said, “That’s my job. Now, go or I’ll never get to leave.”

  Smirking at her, Deacon gave her a salute and headed toward the door.

  After Deacon left the kitchen, she exhaled loudly.

  Grabbing her cell phone, she texted Elle to see if she was busy. After receiving a response, she told her she was on her way in about an hour and there would be wine. Setting her phone back down, she refocused on the tasks at hand.

  Finally done with the remaining prep work, she left, stopping by BevMo on the way home. Parking her car in her driveway, she walked across the street to Elle’s house.

  Elle must have been waiting because Sara hadn’t even knocked on the door before she was dragged into the house.

  Immediately pouring them both some wine, Elle examined Sara’s face asking, “What’s wrong?”

  “So, I think I’ve got a problem. Things kind of escalated with Deacon.”

  “Escalated how? Like pants-off escalated?”

  “No, but very nearly…and in the JDC kitchen. I literally have no self-control where he’s concerned.”

  After Sara had recounted the entire series of events from Little Tokyo to tonight, she ran out of steam and just stared into space.

  Elle just sat on the couch, somewhat dumbfounded, then finally said, “I don’t really see the problem. Sounds like he’s taking a personal interest in you outside of your vajayjay. You’re a fabulous girl. It’s not surprising that he might. Clearly this is an issue for you though.”

  Frowning, Sara said, “I don’t know why, though. I’m not unwilling to explore the idea of something meaningful. I’d just prefer not to. I figured it would happen at some point but I’m not sure I’m ready. Why can’t he just be a jerk? I’d have some hope of resisting him if that were the case. He wants more and it terrifies me. For the first time, I feel like I’d regret saying no.”

  Sighing, Elle said, “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know why? We totally covered that. You’re a great girl. Perhaps he’s smarter than he used to be and sees a good thing. Seems simple to me. Look. I know you’re not used to nice and you don’t want to fall in love with the guy. Just open yourself to the possibilities.”