For Love and Cheesecake Read online

  Ben took the opportunity to shut me up with a kiss that curled the ends of my hair. His tongue invaded and politely asked mine to come out to play. He gently held my head in his big hands, cradling my cheeks with his palms and spearing his fingers into my hair. He changed the angle after a moment, going deeper and taking me with him.

  My heart fluttered in my chest, threatening to pound right out and puddle at his feet. He broke the kiss for a moment to rain more kisses over my eyelids, cheeks, and down my neck, making sure to hit the spot right behind my ear that drove me crazy.

  He walked me back until my thighs hit the edge of the table. His hands wrapped around my meaty thighs and boosted me onto the wooden surface. Those same hands got busy unbuttoning my shirt and the top of my jeans. Hoo-mama, it was hot enough in that kitchen to flash-cook a turkey. I was more than ready to get out of some of these clothes.

  And, to add to the rightness of the moment, we had installed curtains over the one window in the kitchen, so no one could see in.

  We did however have to be a little quick, because my dad and Martha were due to arrive for Yahtzee at any moment, according to the stove clock. But this was more important, and I needed the connection in the turmoil of everything else.

  It was rough, it was wild, it was fast, and it was absolutely fabulous. We wrestled, we laughed, we sighed, we came together as we were meant to be. And all before the doorbell rang and my dad let himself into the house shouting for Yahtzee and margaritas.

  The next morning, flush with even more loving of the fantastic kind, and thrashing my dad and Ben at Yahtzee, I strode into The Masked Shoppe ready to take on the world and anyone who was living in it. I was woman, hear me roar.

  Or squeak, as the case may be, since when I walked in the front door I was confronted with the sight of Charlie and Debbie in yet another lip-lock, this one fierce enough to burn down my entire store.

  I chose to ignore them as I hummed my way across the floor and right into my office. I figured I’d take the coward’s way out (yeah, the usual) and wait in here until it was time to open. Surely I could find something that needed to be done to occupy the few minutes I had to kill until ten in the morning.

  But perhaps kill was the wrong word. Which got me thinking about the poor waiter who had been fricasseed in Jerry’s restaurant. I made a mental note to make sure to call Jerry this afternoon to see if there was anything I could do for him. I didn’t know what exactly I thought I could do, but it was the thought that counted. Right? Right.

  A fire in his restaurant kitchen couldn’t be good for business. Not good for my culinary appetite, either, as it would mean he had to close for repairs. Not to mention the smell of burnt flesh had to be pretty nasty in there. Ew.

  Ten minutes later, Charlie came into the office whistling like a very satisfied man, and with a big freaking grin on his face. He should have been singing some sort of pep-rally-appropriate song while skipping. Jeezumcrow.

  Anyway, he was quite obviously happy, and I didn’t think I wanted to know why. I hadn’t heard anything for the full ten minutes I’d been in here. Who knew what they had been able to accomplish in that handful of time. I knew Ben and I had managed quite a bit in the same length before. But if they were doing the same thing in the front of my shop with all the window blinds open, I was sure I would have heard about it by now through the grapevine.

  “So, um, thanks for not saying anything.” He put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels like a little kid who’d been caught with candy that wasn’t his.

  “Yeah, well, I figure since what I said before obviously doesn’t apply, and since I don’t want Debbie to come after me with her police club, it’s not that important as long as there are no customers in the store.”

  That seemed to set him a back a step. Literally, as he almost tripped over the lone chair behind him. “Really?”

  Was I honestly that much of an ogre? I knew I wasn’t, even if I expected behavior out of him I didn’t expect out of myself. But I was the boss. However, his working here was more important than telling him who he could kiss and where.

  “So anyway,” I said in a lame attempt to change the subject.

  He grinned at me.

  I continued on. “We have a lot to do today, and I expect Bella to come sailing through the door at any moment. Because even though I told her I didn’t think another costume party was a good idea after last year’s Halloween and Christmas parties, she has decided to have one without my consent.”

  Charlie laughed. “I don’t think she needs your permission to have any kind of party she wants.”

  “And while you might be right, there, I still do not condone this when the last two went horribly awry.”

  “Third time’s the charm, and all that.”

  “Yeah, well, not for me. My third time often seems to be the damning incident.”

  He laughed again, and I had to laugh with him this time. That wasn’t totally true, and I knew it. I only hoped this wasn’t one of the times when I was proved right.

  Then again, we already had our dead body, so surely we wouldn’t have another one so soon after. Though why I thought things always worked out in so orderly a way was beyond me.

  I walked out of the office past him, making my way into the front, all the while hoping I wouldn’t find Debbie’s bra strung across one of the racks in abandonment. Then again, with Charlie’s propensity (ooh, good word) for women’s underwear, I suppose it could have been his lingerie I’d be looking at.

  Fortunately, there weren’t any discarded undergarments in the front of the store, though we did appear to have our first customer of the day.

  And what a customer it was. A big bouffant of orange hair was haloed by the weak sunlight behind it. When she walked through the door I forgot all about the hair to concentrate on the brightly colored muumuu and the fluorescent green high-tops.

  “Ooh, Ivy,” the rotund woman said in the heaviest New York accent I had ever heard in my life.

  Who in the world was she? And how did she know my name?

  Right behind her came Martha, hustling up the walk as if her butt were on fire. And she did not look happy. Was I in for a treat, or a horrendous trick?

  Yeah, I voted for trick, too.

  Chapter Seven

  I was enveloped in a cloud of Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door before I could gasp in a clean breath of air. And then the woman squeezed me so tight I thought I heard something pop. My eyes pleaded with Martha for help, but she simply rolled her own eyes back at me.

  Nice.

  Old Orange Hair was jabbering at me at the speed of light, or at least it sounded like that, though I couldn’t make out any distinct words. I did however get something about Ben and a wedding.

  “A what?!” Exclamation point and question mark all at the same time. I was flabbergasted and a little surprised I could talk at all.

  “Oh, honey, you don’t have to be coy with me.” She finally released me and patted me on the arm. Or at least that’s what I assumed she meant to do instead of whacking me so hard I stumbled forward a step.

  “And there’s my Charlie-wudums,” she practically screamed, giving him a hug and a cheek squeeze. Yes, the ones on his face, though it could have been a close thing there for a moment or two.

  With one arm still around Charlie, she grabbed me with her free hand and pulled me in close. “I’m so excited. I can’t believe my Ben is getting married to a woman with some substance, if you know what I mean.” Then she released Charlie long enough to elbow him in the stomach and shoot me a wink. For heaven’s sake, where was Ben? And who was this woman who claimed him?

  It couldn’t be his…

  “What are you doing here, Noni?” my love said, completely bursting my bubble as he walked through the front door and claimed this person who I swore could not, should not, be related to him.

  ****

  “Your Noni?” I paced the floor in the back room of the shop for the fifth time, deciding not to worr
y about wearing a groove in the floor. I’d met his mother and father twice now, and to say it was a little awkward was a slight understatement. I’d met Uncle Harlow, and I loved him. He’d been over for dinner a few times and told me not to pay any attention to his sister-in-law, Ben’s mom. No one was ever going to be good enough for her baby boy.

  But a grandmother, a surprise grandmother named Noni, was something I had been completely unprepared for. Grandmothers gave the evil eye and were even more protective of their baby boys than mothers were. I had gone through the same thing with my sister and her husband. It was not pretty. All these years later, it could still get ugly. Plus, I heard about it after pretty much every holiday.

  And now I might very well have my own set of yearly stories to share around the holidays. I could seriously have done without this.

  Ben pulled me into his lap and nuzzled my neck. “Noni will love you if for no other reason than the fact that my mom hasn’t completely warmed up to you.”

  A startled laugh burst out of me, shaking us in the not-so-sturdy chair. “Not completely warmed up to me? That’s a very politically correct way to say she doesn’t like me.”

  “You know that’s not true,” he whispered into my ear, making me shiver. We’d done many naughty things in this room, and most of them started with the whispering-in-the-ear thing. That I was even thinking about those memories now, with Noni in the next room, meant I was seriously delusional.

  I jumped off his lap. “This is serious. Why is she here and how long is she staying?” I slapped my hands on my ample hips, giving him my best glare. “This is like a surprise attack. You know how much I hate those.”

  Ben rose from his chair, then put his hand over my mouth. “Keep your voice down. She might be old, but she has the hearing of a bat. You don’t want her to hear you say you don’t want her here. Believe me.”

  As if she had some kind of homing device, Noni appeared in the doorway to the boudoir. My blood ran cold as she looked over the risqué lingerie hanging from racks and drawers and baskets. Oy. Not quite the first impression I had wanted to make. Not that I had had a first impression in mind, since I didn’t know the woman was going to be here anyway. My head hurt.

  “Hello, Mrs. Fallon.” I walked over to her, hoping I could hide some of the merchandise before she saw it all. I would back her out of the room like I had with my dad last year. No problem.

  Except she was not as easily moved as my dad. She strode with purpose toward the one sideboard I had purchased to hold all the vibrators and other toys I carried. I didn’t think they needed to be out in the open but had wanted them to be accessible. And now they were accessible to Ben’s grandmother. Could this get worse?

  Of course it could. Why do I always ask that?

  She was a spry old thing and got there before I could. With both doors open on the cabinet, she started looking at the small whips, feather boas, and warming gels I had for sale.

  Ben was quicker and blocked her from some of the naughtier things. “Noni, I told you I wanted a moment with Ivy alone.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the chair we had been sitting in.

  “I’m not that old, Benny. I don’t need to sit down every two minutes. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve had plenty of time with Ivy all by yourself. Aren’t you living in sin? That’s what your father said your mother is telling everyone.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. That was fantastic. Hadn’t I told Ben copious times that his parents wouldn’t like it? Considering my dad didn’t like it, either, I don’t know why I was surprised. But at least my dad liked Ben. Although that wasn’t fair, since Ben’s dad really liked me, as far as I knew.

  “Yeah, we’re living in sin. But you love me anyway, right?” He gave her his cheeky smile that had made my knees melt the first time.

  Apparently it worked on her, too. She swatted him on the arm while giving him a peck on the cheek. “You are a bad boy, but you’ve always been my favorite. Now, when are you going to have me over for dinner so Ivy and I can get to know each other?”

  Ivy was standing right here and didn’t need to be talked about as if I weren’t two feet away. But I let it slide because I didn’t want to rock the boat.

  “How about tonight? We’ll have dinner, and you can tell me how much you like the woman I intend to make say yes to my proposal one of these days.”

  She, of course, shot me a beady-eyed look. “And what’s wrong with her that she doesn’t think you are good enough to marry? Doesn’t she understand she’s the privileged one?” Her words trailed off as Ben led her out of the room. Thank goodness because, honestly, I don’t know if I could have stopped myself from letting my mouth hang open.

  Wasn’t marriage beneficial to both sides? And Ben was hoping to get me to say yes to one of his proposals. One of them? We hadn’t had a first one, that I knew of. I couldn’t remember turning him down, unless I had talked in my sleep or something, and I found that highly unlikely. I guess stranger things had happened before, though.

  After she was gone and I heard the front door close, Martha tiptoed into the room.

  “Are you okay?”

  I laughed because, really, the alternative was not pretty. “Sure, what’s not to be okay about? Apparently Ben’s mom hates me and his grandmother might like me but only because his mom doesn’t. Oh, and we’re hosting dinner tonight and I have no idea what to make because I really want to impress this woman, and I have a feeling she’s not going to be, no matter what.” Man, oh, man, what was with the rambling lately?

  “Why don’t you sit down for a second and take a few deep breaths? It will all look better after we’re a little calmer.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen, to be honest. And how did she know where we were anyway?”

  “I was walking to work, and I saw Ben’s mom drop her off, so I followed her in, just in case you were alone.”

  “Well, thanks for that.” And speaking of being alone, where was Charlie? He had been here earlier, but then he had disappeared.

  He seemed to have a habit of that lately.

  And then there he was, hanging out in the doorway. “If you really want to impress her, you should call Jerry, since the restaurant is closed, and have him cater the meal. She loves him and his food.” He crossed his ankles, leaning back against the doorjamb. “Actually, an even better idea would be for you to have a huge dinner party, invite me and Debbie, Jerry, Ben’s family, your family, and then you won’t be alone with any one person. Maybe we can start working on the mystery of the dead body if we have Jerry captive in the kitchen.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea.

  “Oh, Ivy, you aren’t going to be involved in this latest murder, are you?” Martha asked, putting a hand on my shoulder and looking disappointed. “Your dad is going to be floored.”

  “It floors you that my dad is going to want to be involved, Martha,” I said, knowing I wasn’t lying. She didn’t want any of us involved in that kind of stuff anymore. I would have been perfectly happy to be left out, if it weren’t for outside pressures.

  I had let a cell phone call go to voicemail earlier. When I checked the missed call list, I saw the call was from Jerry. I had a feeling he was going to want to know what I was doing about the murder case, as well as about finding out who had killed his waiter.

  Yeah, I had been a little surprised when Detective Bartley had let that one slip when she called the other day. But then I wasn’t altogether surprised by the choice of victim. He had been a total and complete jerk the night Ben and I had eaten dinner at Jerry’s restaurant. Not that being a jerk meant you should be killed, but I didn’t have a hard time believing the guy might have some enemies.

  Well, if I wanted Jerry to cook dinner for me and my entourage tonight, I was going to have to call him and get the yucky part out of the way before we got to the good stuff. I pulled up my big girl pants, flipped open my phone, enjoyed the picture of Ben on the screen for a moment, then dialed.

&nbs
p; I could do this, I thought as the phone rang on the other end. I could tell him I wasn’t going to get involved and ask him to make me dinner on such short notice.

  He answered with, “Tell me you are making progress on the murder. I have to know what happened or I’m not going to be able to get anyone to work for me ever again. They all think someone is targeting me and killing off my staff to make my life miserable. No one is entirely sure they will not be next.”

  Oh, crap. “I’m working on it, but I’m going to need a favor from you in return.” Good going there, Ivy. Way to tell him “no” with your strong conviction.

  “Name it, my cauliflower blossom, and it is yours. I’ll even make you a big personal cheesecake. The recipe is very in demand right now, but I’ll give it to you for free.” He was begging, and I felt terrible for adding to his burden, but it had to be done. For love and for cheesecake I would do just about anything to get my way.

  “I need dinner and cheesecake.”

  “It is yours, just get me a name and a motive that doesn’t involve me.” He hung up before I could solidify date and time on that dinner.

  So I called him back.

  “Before you ask me if I solved the crime in the two seconds since we talked, the answer is no. But I need that dinner tonight, and for about twelve people.”