Torn

She slid down and began to assemble her ingredients to put together the bread. He kept cooking and began speaking again. “I came back shaken up. I knew there were problems but what I’d learned that day meant everything I’d grown up believing was a lie. My dad was a monster. And by association, through the proof I’d seen, my mother had known, as had most of my father’s closest associates. I told my wife that I was having doubts. I admit it. I hedged a little and didn’t tell her about the FBI. And thank god I didn’t because once I fell asleep she went to my father, who sent his goons in to kidnap me and toss me in one of his punishment houses.

  “I was out there in the heat for three weeks. In and out of consciousness. Compared to the others I was soft. My father’s favorite. And I’d been tossed out of the circle of his affection and it sucked. My cousin Patience is a nurse—she managed to see me out there as often as she could. I was dehydrated and in declining health. I don’t know who exactly helped me get out, but I suspect it was Patience and my other cousin Macie. The cops found me left by a road mile marker after it had been called in. I was in the hospital overnight but I was panicked about my kids. My babies. Four-month-old twin boys. At that time I was worried about my wife too, even though she’d been the one who turned me in.”

  Cora turned on the broiler to heat up and imagined myriad ways to punch these people who hurt him so much in their stupid faces.

  “But the standoff happened just a few hours later. Many escaped. Some died. My wife had our marriage annulled in the eyes of the church and has, as rumor goes, married another one of my cousins who has taken my children as his own. I helped the authorities as much as I could, not only because it was the right thing to do, but because it was a way to keep them working on finding the church members. I wanted my damned kids back and the government had more tools than I did.

  “I started modeling as a fluke but it was a way to make the money I needed to hire investigators on my own. It’s been two decades I’ve been searching and aside from sightings of some of my father’s cronies I have had no real leads on my sons. They were four months old then. Even if I’d had a lot of photographs they’re both men now. Adults who certainly don’t look like babies anymore. They’re not in trouble or on any watch lists the way my father is, which makes it more difficult.”

  The emotions in his voice at the end were too much and she walked into his arms. Burrowing herself into him, she hugged tightly and told him without words that she was so terribly sorry he’d gone through all that pain.

  Finally she pulled away and he tipped her chin up with the tip of his finger and kissed her before he got back to dinner and his story.

  “Most of this is common enough knowledge that I’ve had a few people try to extort me for information about the group over the years. I paid because I had the money and I’d rather spend it and find them than not spend it and risk the info being real.”

  Someone was trying to extort him? On her own doorstep? Oh. No fucking way was that allowed.

  “However, four times in the last twenty years I have been contacted by someone in the group still. They say they have information on my sons and want to set up a meeting. Twice in those four times there were other pieces of information that I forwarded to the authorities and they turned out to be real solid clues on the whereabouts of the Road. Once they even caught up to my dad’s most recent location and managed to take in one of the members who’d stayed behind to handle any loose ends that needed tying up for their move. That member refused to say anything in his own defense and pleaded guilty. I’ll count myself lucky if he does three years of his eight-year sentence.

  “But I’ve never been able to meet this contact in person. He or she, each time, has either gotten spooked or simply not shown up. Though, like I said, twice the source left information that actually helped. That’s what the note on your doorstep today was. That’s why I had to contact my agent and the investigators right away.”

  Cora waited for him to tip the pasta into the boiling water before she put the bread into the oven.

  “That sounds like a nightmare. I hope you find your children so they get a chance to know you,” she said. “What all did it say?”

  “My uncle is back here in the US. Which I did know because my investigators reported that to me. But the note says he’s here because one of the group is really ill.”

  She took his hands. “Your sons?”

  “The note didn’t say and all I can do is hope not.”

  “Does the church, or your dad, whatever, believe in getting medical care or is it not okay?”

  “When I was younger there were no problems with going to the doctor. But over time and especially after we moved to Arizona, the rules for daily life got much more strict. Fortunately there were two nurses who were part of the church and most things could be dealt with by them. Something serious though? Diabetes or anything more than basic surgery or setting of bones, cancer? George, my father, was into laying on of hands when people were at their most ill and desperate. They died and he said it was that they didn’t work hard enough or that God called them home. I have no doubt that it’s something similar even today.”

  She moved to take the bread out and he tossed the pasta with the other ingredients and took the pan to the table while she transferred the bread to a plate.

  “This is nowhere near as flashy as the food you make but it’s pretty hard to mess up good bread slathered in butter, garlic and cheese,” she told him.

  They settled in and she was beyond words until she’d shoveled food into her face for a few minutes.

  He finally spoke again right around the time she realized she must have looked like a hungry teenager as she gobbled her dinner.

  “So what’s your verdict? Should I include this on my short list for the cookbook?”

  When she blushed and hid her face behind her napkin, he laughed. She said, “As if the way I just inhaled my plate wasn’t enough? It’s amazing. I might even let this get to second base I dug it so much.”

  “I love it when you enjoy the food I make. It’s a huge compliment to see you eat with such relish. Sexy too.”

  “I’m so glad you find my virtual inhalation of everything but the fork as a positive instead of a slovenly bad habit.”

  “Maybe if it was someone else’s food,” he teased.

  She snickered but sobered quickly, returning to the subject of the letter. “I mean, they told you someone was ill but not who specifically. Are they asking for money or medical assistance or what?”

  “You’re not even going to mention the fact that the letter came here to your home? I honestly can’t believe you even let me stay after I told you all that.”

  “That’s not your fault though. So how could I be angry at you about that? I’m a bitch sometimes but I’m not an asshole,” she said.

  “It is my fault. It’s not like that letter would have shown up here if I weren’t here so often. Which means they’re watching me as much as I watch them only they’re doing it better because I still don’t fucking know where they are.”

  “Because you’re not hiding! You’re not on the run from the FBI and Interpol or whatever. I don’t blame you for this. I’m glad they found you and I hope you don’t end up disappointed.”

  “The letter just had the info in it. No ask. But it will come. That’s how this person has worked in the past. A contact note that shows up via courier. Like this one. My investigators will call the place to get any info they can, but there won’t be any. They’ll have paid in cash. Usually to a middleman in need of some quick money to take the letter in on their behalf. Next will be the ask. Sometimes it comes via phone or email. It’s a waiting game now.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. Nothing wise or helpful I’m sure. Your dad sounds like a dreadful asshole. I’m sorry your ex stole your kids. What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “At this point I’m do
ing it all. Just listening to me helps, so thank you. I’m sorry this involved you. I don’t normally...” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I usually see people outside my circle. So they don’t get involved in any of my personal business other than my dick. It sounds shallow, I know. But now that you’ve been dragged into this it makes me nervous for you.”

  “How I’ll feel or that I’m somehow in danger?”

  He honestly didn’t think she was in danger. But he could admit—to himself anyway—that he was worried she’d get turned off by all his drama and want to break things off.

  “I just don’t want you to think all I bring to your life is this sort of crap.”

  Cora burst out laughing. “Earlier today I was feeling a little guilty because honestly you’re the most deliciously gorgeous creature on this earth and I can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot you are. And then I thought oh no, I’m objectifying him and he’s so much more than that. Like the way you always make me food. And you’re tall so you can reach stuff and you’re great at getting us through a crowd. A note on my door isn’t a deal breaker as long as I can keep wanting to eat you up with a spoon.”

  He had no idea how she managed to do it, but she just had a way of cutting through bullshit and taking things down to what truly mattered. It wasn’t like he was unaware of his looks. That she found him so delicious meant something altogether different to him than it had with anyone else.

  “Always feel welcome to nibble or lick or suck any part of me.”

  She fanned herself at his leer and he relaxed a little more.

  He’d come a long way from that uneducated and woefully unprepared for the world teenager who’d escaped Road to Glory with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He understood that he’d been a child raised to believe in everything his father said. Sometimes that alleviated some of the guilt he felt.

  His father had stolen his childhood, but Beau had taken his adulthood and all that potential and made something of himself. But he also had two children he’d only held a handful of times before his wife had taken them and run off with the rest of the group.

  He wanted Cora to know that about him. Wanted her to understand he’d never give up looking for them, and given her reaction and the way she looked at him, she did understand.

  What experiences and opportunities had his sons lost a chance at because of George Petty?

  “So. You still cool dating me?” he asked her. He was aiming for teasing and flirty, but there was a whole lot of truth wound through the words.

  Cora frowned and got up to circle the table and straddle his lap, facing him. “Thanks for sharing all that with me. I’m obviously still cool dating you because you have a meaty penis and you cook me food. Plus you look damned good naked.” She patted his chest over his heart. “And you have a big, good heart. I want you to find your sons. I want you to be able to hug them.”

  Emotion swamped him as he swallowed against the lump in his throat and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tight.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wanted to be able to hug them too.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I can hear

  the music of the universe in the way

  you say my name

  CORA ROLLED INTO Whiskey Sharp the next evening, pleased at the sight of her two best friends standing near the bar.

  Vic was in deep conversation with Alexsei and Gregori on the other side of the room. The family resemblance was striking at some moments and that was one of them.

  “Christ. What the fuck kind of genetic lottery produced humans who look that good?” she asked after she gave Maybe and Rachel a hug.

  “Right?” Maybe said. “Imagine the baby cooking in Rachel’s uterus right now. Adorable to the power of a million.”

  “Where’s Beau?” Rachel asked.

  “He’ll be by in a few. He had a sauce breakthrough apparently,” Cora said.

  “Ha! Really? My dude has yeast emergencies and yours has sauce emergencies,” Rachel said. “Life’s weird.”

  “It is. But now that mine has really great sex and food in it I’ve got to say yay for weird life.” Cora ordered a whiskey sour. “How’s things in gestation today?”

  “I want to nap a lot. Vic makes me go to bed at like eight with him. Which works because he’s up at four anyway to get to the bakery and I end up sleeping another few hours after he leaves. I’m nauseated followed by periods of intense hunger. I mean, it’s not that far into the process but damn, I hope I want to be awake in the hours where I don’t want to vomit and soon.”

  Cora frowned and gave Rachel a gentle hug. “Sorry, punkin.”

  Wren bounced in and after a snuggle and a kiss from her husband, she headed over to Cora.

  “It’s the coolest thing ever that you and Beau are together. I mean, it’s nice not to have to vet an outsider. Plus he cooks. And if the modeling pictures from his younger days are accurate, he’s got a very prodigious rod of justice.”

  Cora and Rachel both burst into laughter. “Rod of justice?” Cora asked once she could speak.

  “It’s weird to me to call someone else’s man’s equipment a cock. Gregori has a cock. Dick is fine. But sometimes you just need to bust out the purple prose and make it extra creative. The more I can fluster Gregori and make him blush or laugh, the better. Thunder stick, meat staff, mighty spear of pleasure.”

  By that point Cora was laughing so hard she got the damned hiccups just imagining the look on Gregori’s face at any of those descriptors. “I love you guys so hard,” she sputtered.

  “It’s going to be a while before I can look at Gregori straight on without snickering,” Maybe told Wren.

  Vic looked over at them, narrowing his eyes. The others followed suit.

  That’s when Beau came in, lighting up Cora’s heart. She watched as he scanned the room and felt that click of connection when their gazes locked.

  “Be back in a sec,” she told her friends over her shoulder before meeting him halfway.

  She wasn’t expecting the hug or the lingering kiss he laid on her, but she wouldn’t be complaining anytime soon.

  He kept her close and in his arms for long moments. “Good evening.”

  God, he made her smile.

  “Hey there. I just ordered a whiskey sour. They’re on special for another hour or so. You want one?” she asked.

  He spun her neatly but kept her hand in his as they walked toward the bar. “Yes, and then we’ll eat. I’m getting pretty hungry.”

  “I can make us dinner from time to time too, you know,” she said.

  “I’m sure you can. Tonight, though, Ian has asked us to Luna to sit at the chef’s table. Along with Gregori and Wren.”

  “A double date with your besties? Awww.”

  “More than that. The table seats twelve so Maybe, Rachel, Vic and Alexsei are invited too if they can break away.”

  “Pardon me for overhearing but yes to dinner,” Maybe said as she leaned around Cora to speak to Beau.

  “Pardon your nosy ass, you mean?” Cora teased.

  In the years she’d been coming to Whiskey Sharp or gone out with her friends, it had been as a single person around people slowly coupling up. And now here she was, part of a couple. Falling for this dude who’d come into her life when she wasn’t planning on anything like love. It was not overrated.

  * * *

  ONCE THEY’D GOTTEN everyone rounded up to go to dinner they headed out. It was cold but not rainy so, buttoned into coats, they all began to walk over to Luna.

  “Are you okay to walk that far?” Vic asked Rachel in an undertone.

  “It’s four blocks. On First so I don’t even have to walk up a hill.” Rachel tugged on his beard, and then kissed him. “But thank you.”

  Cora kept her smile to herself, leaning against Beau a
while as they walked.

  Maybe snorted as she bumped her hip to Vic’s. “It’s very sweet, but she’s got like seven plus months to go. So ease up there or she’s going to push you out of the air lock before the middle of her second trimester.”

  “Go bother your husband,” Vic told his sister-in-law with a grin.

  Laughing, Maybe skipped up to Alexsei, who took her hand and planted a kiss on top of her head as they walked.

  “Are you cooking tonight?” Cora asked Beau.

  “Nope. I’m there to enjoy the food with you at my side and our friends all around. Ian’s team is fucking amazing. Better chefs than me by far.”

  She scoffed and he hugged her to his side.

  “There are no chefs better than you, duh.” There might be better cooks or whatever, but none of them were him.

  “I’m a decent, inventive cook who had the luck to land a television gig. I have good business sense and excellent management so all my money goes where it should be and everyone does well.”

  “Didn’t you slay sauce today? Hello. Exhibit A. I said it. It’s true. There. Glad we got that settled.”

  “I really have nothing in response to that so I’ll accept the compliment and move on,” Beau said.

  He took them in through the restaurant and through the kitchen, where the large chef’s table was set and waiting for them all.

  Ian came out and, after greeting Gregori and Beau, he turned to the rest of the group. “Welcome, everyone. I hope y’all are ready to eat.”

  Beau and Gregori took turns introducing Ian, who’d been the one who introduced Beau to Gregori, who’d been a scrappy up-and-coming artist at the time. Not in the United States for very long, he’d become part of a group that included several other young men also out of place or far from everything they’d known. And from what Cora could see from the way they interacted, it had given them all a foundation of safety and brotherhood.

  They’d learned about how to be better people, better men, through one another’s trials and tribulations, and Beau was totally sure he would not be there without their support and example.