Page 19 of Happy Endings

Trixie yelped. She turned toward the voice and found Andrebehind the bar. How had she missed him when she came in? Maybe he had been under the bar doing whatever bartenders do.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hard, and his eyes bore into her.

“Keisha asked me to come by after ten.” She met his gaze, daring him to challenge her.

“She’s in the back, cleaning.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“There is no everyone else. Our cook Luis went home early to spend time with his kids. Xavier gets up early for his delivery route in the morning. Just me and Keisha now.”

“Oh.” Trixie connected the dots. Keisha had mentioned her mother—theirmother—dying after a too-short battle with cancer. Which meant she died not too long after he’d ditched her in New Orleans. “I’m so sorry about your mom, Andre. Keisha told me some wonderful stories about her. She was an amazing woman.”

“Everyone loved Mama.” He swallowed hard. “Which is why I’m doing my best to keep this place going.”

Why hadn’t he told her about his mom when they were together? All he’d said was that she was a talented cook and then changed the subject. He hadn’t lied to her, but he hadn’t been forthcoming about his past either. Trixie swallowed the anger and sadness welling up inside her.

“You must miss her terribly.” She thought about her parents, whom she hadn’t seen since moving to DC last year. Even though she offered to fly home to visit, her mom told her to wait for her dad to cool down. A year later, he was still mad at her.

“Every day.” Sadness flashed across his face before he smoothed his features. He pointed to a booth in the back. “You can wait for Keisha over there.”

Trixie bit her lip. Yep. Still the same Andre. The stoic man who never talked about his feelings. Sure, he shared when he was happy or if someone at work made him mad. When it came to deeper emotions, he’d rather run away from them—from her—than deal with them. The funny, sensitive brother Keisha talked about during their volunteer work did not sound like the Andre she’d known.

No, Trixie had deserved better from him. Tonight there were no customers and no Reina to keep her from giving Andre the treatment he deserved. From telling him exactly how he ruined her life in New Orleans. Even better, how she survived—no, thrived without him.

She took a step toward the booth. Suddenly her head spun, and black spots covered her vision. Her hands flew out to grab on to the nearest steady thing. Which turned out to be something not so steady. The chair slid under her hand and bumped into a table. Her vision cleared in time to see a plate and utensils crash onto the floor.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders as she swayed. Andre. His warm, spicy scent was comforting. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes. Maybe if she waited, the room would stop spinning.

“Are you okay?”

His breath warmed the nape of her neck, causing a ripple of chills across her body. Her nipples tightened under her blouse. Her shoulders relaxed against his firm chest. Heat bloomed across her torso. Her body responded automatically to his, even though it had been two years since they’d touched.

“Trixie.” He inhaled sharply.

Clearly his body remembered hers, too.

“Fine,” she whispered. “I—I’m fine.”

Iffinemeant that she was dizzy and turned on at the same time.

Bang. They jumped. Something big and metal had fallen in the kitchen. Trixie pulled herself away from him, but he slid his hands to her upper arms as if she’d keel over any minute.

“If you’re fine, why do you have a death grip on my chair?”

She let go of the chair as if it were on fire. The room started spinning again. She swayed, but only a little, thanks to Andre’s hold on her.

“I forgot to eat today,” she confessed. “The clinic was swamped so I jumped in to help.”

Andre sighed. He eased the grip on her arms and rubbed them. His hand shifted to the small of her back, searing her skin through her shirt. Trixie ignored the heat simmering below her belly. He guided her over to a nearby table that had already been cleaned. Pulling out a chair, he eased her into it.

“Don’t move. I’ll make you a plate.”

As if she could move with the room spinning around her. He strode into the kitchen, leaving her with a view of his gorgeous backside. Even through her dizziness, she could appreciate his well-sculpted ass. Memories flashed through her brain. Her hands on his buttocks as he thrusted into her. Nails digging into his skin as they both exploded together.

The spinning slowed down as her body began to buzz. A low vibration that gently swept over her as heat spread through her body. Sex had never been a challenge in their relationship. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Being so close to him and feeling the heat of his voice in her ear. Their physical attraction was always fully charged. Even if their relationship had run out of batteries.

Trixie inhaled deeply to clear her mind and ease the spinning. She vowed to stay focused. She couldn’t afford to let him distract her again. Not like last time, when she crashed and burned. At first, she’d blamed him for the rift between her and her parents. He’d been the one who convinced her to go against their wishes and change careers. Even though he promised to support her, he’d left her all alone in New Orleans to deal with the aftermath.

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