Worth the Effort: The Worth Series Book 3 Read online

  The thought brought no satisfaction beyond the relief of having made a well-reasoned decision.

  First things first, he reminded himself. Talk to the lawyers about the prenup.

  Alana would be thrilled. She'd been hinting about moving in lately, about making things more permanent. He'd ignored her. Half the time they were together he spent ignoring her. The other half was spent trying to keep straight never-ending name list of designers, photographers, magazine editors, and others Alana both knew and loved, knew and hated, or wanted to know.

  It would probably get worse when he told her she had a wedding to plan.

  As if to reward himself for a decision made, Alex grabbed another tart off a passing tray of and popped it into his mouth. "Mmm..." He couldn't stop himself from moaning out loud.

  "Good, huh?"

  Alex opened up eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed in ecstasy and caught sight of the bride with a smirk on her face.

  "They're like an orgasm for your mouth."

  They both laughed at his inelegant description. "I don't think I've ever seen you enjoying yourself like that," Janna pointed out. "I guess food is the way to a man's heart."

  "Who said I had a heart?" he countered. "Still, I might grow one if fed a steady diet of these delights."

  "I'll let the chef know you liked them." Janna's face turned serious. "Thank you for your toast. I thought Brice was going to blow a gasket for a moment there. He still can't let himself trust you fully, despite your help during the Chester thing."

  The Chester thing. A simple term for the events that led to Alex and Brice's reconciliation. Chester, Masterson's cousin, had kidnapped Janna to hurt Brice after he'd had Chester's father prosecuted for the illegal mining of land Brice had donated for a state park.

  Perhaps it had been Brice's vulnerability that had finally allowed Alex to get over his hatred for the other man. Even the rich had fucked-up families. Alex had helped him locate his cousin, which had led to Brice's daring rescue of his sweetheart and an uneasy truce between himself and Masterson.

  "I couldn't leave without giving my best girl a toast," he said, putting an arm around Janna's waist. "And besides, you handled him well."

  Alex watched as Janna's gaze sought out her new husband. The tall blond man was speaking to an older woman whose gray hair had started escaping her elegant bun. The look in Janna's eyes when Brice caught her watching and sent her a smile prompted a strange sensation to attack his stomach. He covered it by snatching up another tart and chewing it thoughtfully.

  Brice was a lucky bastard, finding a woman who could fulfill his fantasies in the bedroom and out of it. Janna was perfect for him, an once-in-a-lifetime match. Alex wished the couple well, even as his own plans now seemed somewhat tawdry. A sham. He pushed away the thought with a distraction.

  "You must give me your chef's information. I've got an important party coming up and I need a caterer."

  "An important party?" Janna asked, at last pulling her attention away from her groom. "Do tell."

  "An engagement party."

  Janna's blue eyes went wide. "Engagement party? For whom?"

  Alex laughed. "Who do you think?"

  "Not you?"

  Her disbelieving expression annoyed him. "Why not me?"

  "You...and Alana?"

  Alex's eyes narrowed. "Of course, me and Alana. You're not the only one capable of getting married, you know."

  "I know. I just didn't expect..." Janna trailed off, giving him a hard look. "I didn't think you and Alana were that close."

  Alex frowned. "They can't all be love matches, sweetheart." His voice was rougher than he expected.

  Janna's frown mirrored his own. "But if you don't love her, then why...?" Her voice trailed off as she gave him an assessing look. "More camouflage?"

  Alex knew Janna understood. She'd been unsure of herself, nervous around the wealthy folks who made up the majority of Brice's acquaintances. He'd taken her under his wing, admittedly with the thought of using the opportunity to seduce her at first. Instead, he'd seen a lot of himself in her. He'd had to learn how to swim among the high society sharks himself. To become one. Women like Alana, his intended, were just another trapping he needed to fit in.

  "Alex." Janna's voice was soft, and it made the corners of his mouth turn down. "You don't need camouflage, not anymore. Why tie yourself to someone you don't love?"

  Alex shrugged. "It's time to get married. She's a beautiful woman, one who knows her way around a charity function or client dinner. I could do worse."

  The way her eyes narrowed said that Janna didn't agree with his assessment. Before she could retort, the band began tuning up, one of the groomsmen tapping on the mic to draw attention his way. He announced that it was time to begin the dancing, then called Janna and Brice to the floor. The look in her eyes, the gentle smile on her face, caused a hard knot to form in Alex's throat. He looked away, finding another tray of desserts instead of dwelling on what he couldn't have.

  * * *

  The last dishes had been prepared and Lila was supervising the clean-up. The kitchen was ordered chaos but she was undaunted. She'd just reloaded the gleaming stainless steel dishwasher when the bride walked in and tapped her on the shoulder.

  "Congratulations Janna!" Lila cried, giving her friend a big hug while being careful not to wrinkle her designer gown. "I'm so happy for you."

  Janna's smile showed her joy. "Thank you so much for agreeing to cater."

  "How could I refuse your handsome husband? Besides, he's paying me so much I'd be mad to turn this down."

  "It's our privilege to help launch your new business. If anyone deserves to succeed, it's you."

  Her words gave Lila a warm feeling. Janna had always been encouraging, even when her own soufflés had fallen over and over again. Even though Lila had done her best to assist, Janna had quickly realized that cooking wasn't her forte.

  The redhead pushed back the dark hair that had fallen over one of Lila's eyes. "Have you finalized your plans for the move to Portland?"

  "Not entirely," Lila replied, moving to the sink to begin rinsing the next load of dishes. "I think I've found a good space, but I still need to order my equipment."

  "If there's anything Brice or I can do to help, just let me know."

  Lila smiled, flicking the pristine dish towel off her shoulder and against the other woman's hip. "The fee your husband insisted on paying is more than enough. Besides, you should be thinking about your honeymoon plans and not worrying about me."

  Janna laughed. "What's to think about? Two weeks on an exotic private beach with only my sexy husband to keep me company. I'm considering packing solely swimsuits and underwear."

  "You might not even need the underwear."

  "I might not at that." They laughed, and Janna gave her shoulder a squeeze. She planted a kiss on Lila's cheek and turned to go.

  Before Janna could make it to the door, she swiveled back to face her. "Oh, your food has been a huge success, by the way. I've already lined up a potential client for you."

  Lila's dark eyebrow rose in amusement. "Feel free to send any of your wealthy guests my way."

  Janna laughed. "Who knows, maybe you'll find a husband among them too."

  Lila's smile was forced. "I'm happy just to find a paycheck among them."

  Janna gave her a grin and left, being careful not to let the door shut on her train. Lila turned her attention back to the sink, the steam rising up to paint her face in uncomfortable warmth.

  No rich, successful man would be interested in an overweight caterer whose face was red with sweat and whose hands were chapped from kitchen work. Not when they could have a beauty like Janna, or any of the other attractive women in attendance.

  Her mind flashed to the memory of the handsome man with the devilish smile. A man like that would never be satisfied with a glorified homemaker. No, the closest she'd ever get to wearing bridal white around that one would be if she was wearing her chef's jacket and toque in his kitchen. Still, it wouldn't be so bad, not if she got to ogle that kind of eye candy on a daily basis.

  Lila shut off her thoughts, not wanting to start down that path, not while she was working. It was hot enough in the kitchen without thoughts of Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. Just picturing the man made her skin start to flush. Better to ignore the dormant feelings his image awakened. Her love life, as nonexistent as it was, would have to wait while she built up her business. While she worked to achieve the only goal she'd ever had. Even if it took forever.

  2

  Driving home from the Masterson's estate after the reception, Lila was introspective. The trees were a gray-green blur, and the stars floating above them, diamonds against black velvet. Diamonds and velvet. Lila's lips gave a wry twist. One day in a palace and you start seeing opulence everywhere.

  The Masterson mansion wasn't quite a palace, but having grown up in a small post-war ranch house, there was no comparison. That level of wealth made Lila uncomfortable. Although she specialized in gourmet food, food for sophisticated palates (and wallets), cooking really wasn't connected to money in her mind. It was a vocation, sure, but primarily a passion.

  She wanted to transcend the ordinary in one aspect of her life. Cooking took her out of herself, let her focus on creating something beautiful and ephemeral. And hopefully, out of that ephemeral beauty she would build something with permanence. Her gourmet food was allowing her to go places, and her focus had to be entirely on her career. She'd never have opulence in her own life, but it was there in her food, and that was enough.

  The miles passed. Lila tried to force herself to consider the list of things she had to do before her move to Portland and the opening of her new business. Her mind wouldn't obey. Apparently it wanted to delve deep and
ignore her admonishment to focus on career only. Seeing a picture book marriage begin before her eyes seemed to shine a light on what was missing in her own life. Sure, she was in love with her food, but it might be nice to have someone else to share it with.

  No time for that. That's what she always told herself. Career first. Career only. While her forebrain detailed logical reasons to keep on track, the baser part, back near the spinal cord, whispered more compelling reasons to forget about love. Fear. Trust. Vulnerability.

  Lila belonged to the fool me once, shame on everyone involved school of thought. One mistake was a mistake too many, and she'd already made hers. Maybe someday, after she'd built her business and had enough free time to dig into therapy, probably right after she joined a gym, she might meet someone and fall in love. But right now wasn't an option.

  That didn't stop her brain from dredging up the memories and playing them like a bad after school special for her, a captive audience...

  * * *

  Lila hadn't had much to do the summer before her senior year in high school. Her mother worked long hours at a local bakery, leaving her alone most of the day. When she was younger, her mother would take her along to work, letting Lila help as she made cakes and torts and cookies and all manner of confections. But Old Man Withers, the bakery's owner, had told her mother when Lila turned 16 that he couldn't afford to pay another worker, and Lila couldn't exactly be considered a volunteer. So she'd been left at home for the last two summers, to fill the hours on her own.

  That summer was no different. Well, maybe it was hotter. Although most of the year was filled with gloomy skies and rain in the western wilds of Oregon, the summer months were dry and warm. That year summer had started early, and temperatures had climbed to near 100 degrees for the last couple weeks. Which meant Lila spent most of her days in front of the fan in their cluttered living room, watching the cooking shows that popped up on the public television channels and wishing for a relief from the heat.

  That afternoon had to be the hottest yet. Lila could feel beads of sweat rolling down between her breasts. She'd foregone putting on a bra as the heat made confining her overlarge chest uncomfortable. Instead she wore an old tank top and a pair of cotton shorts, her long black hair pulled up into a bun behind her head. Another trickle of sweat down her back made her groan and plop onto her stomach, lying directly in front of the fan in the hopes of cooling down, if just for a moment.

  A knock at the door had her jumping up. There'd been no visitors in days, weeks probably, maybe a month. The last ones, a pair of proselytizing Jehovah's Witnesses, had not made it past the screen door. Another knock, and she knew she didn't have time to strap on a bra before answering. Lila folded her arms across her chest, thinking that the visitor would be sent away before they noticed her braless state.

  She pulled open the heavy wooden door and stood before the unopened screen. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized who stood on the other side.

  He was tall, his naked chest bronzed from the sun, dark blond hair streaked with almost white highlights. Damien George, her neighbor from up the hill. He was in her class at high school, though he'd never acknowledged her in the halls. Now he stood at the door, waiting for her to open it.

  Lila prayed that he didn't notice her flushed skin and cursed herself for not wearing a bra today. As if she'd known the cutest boy in school would be dropping by. She just stood there, unable to say anything, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.

  "Hey," he said when he realized she wasn't going to open the screen door. "I'm here to pick up the box for the church sale. My mom talked to your mom, and supposedly there's a box of her old stuff she's willing to donate."

  Lila nodded but didn't move. She vaguely remembered her mother mentioning something last night about a box and a church sale, but she'd been busy reading a cookbook and learning how to make the perfect crème brulee and hadn't paid her mom any attention. Regret filled her mouth with saliva and she swallowed it back, pushing the screen door open to let the high school hunk in.

  "Thanks." His voice was deep, almost a grown man's. His body wasn't far from grown either. Although they'd known each other for years, it wasn't until he'd shot up six inches last summer that Lila realized she had a crush on him, a painful, lusty crush that made her pulse speed up as she watched him walk down the hall, her eyes zooming in on his butt in his tight denim shorts.

  "Is it back here?" he asked, motioning down the hallway.

  "Umm...yeah," she said, at last finding her voice. "It's in my mom's room." She pointed to the last door on the left and walked behind him as he entered the bedroom.

  The room was small, like most of the house, and full of her mom's small nick knacks. She cringed inside, hoping he'd ignore the Precious Moments figurines and sand candles. Lila walked past Damien, desperately attempting to keep her breasts covered in a non-obvious fashion. "I think it's in the closet."

  She pulled open the sliding door and bent down, digging through the pile of shoe boxes and garbage bags of sweaters that had been abandoned down there. Finding a box labeled "church sale," she tugged it toward the front. It was heavy so she didn't lift it, just pulled it forward until it breached the closet mess.

  "Let me get it," Damien said, bending down and picking up the box as if it were full of cotton balls instead of a pile of her mom's old clothing. Don't think about how hot that is! She suddenly wished she'd spent more time outside this summer. Her skin was pale, and a bright was flush was currently working its way up her arms. She knew her face must look like a stop sign.

  Lila led the way back down the hallway and toward the front door. She had the strange sensation of his eyes on her and quickened her pace, telling herself as she did so that she was being ridiculous. Cute boys like Damien weren't interested in eying chubby girls like her.

  They reached the door and Lila put her hand on the handle but didn't open it when she realized Damien had stopped and put the box down. She turned, confusion causing her to cock an eyebrow at him.

  "It's hot," he said, his pitch low. "Could I get a glass of water?"

  "Sure," Lila replied, hoping he didn't notice the nervous tremble in her voice. She headed toward the kitchen and felt him close behind her. She reached up to the cabinet to pull out a glass and cursed herself as she felt her unbound breasts shifting as she reached. She filled the glass with cold water from the faucet and handed it to him.

  "Thanks." Damien put the glass to his lips and Lila tried not to think of how it would feel to have his well-formed mouth on hers. A new kind of heat pulsed through her, filling her with shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  He drained the glass and put it down on the counter, then turned to face her. His eyes traveled down her front, and Lila quickly crossed her arms over her chest, then groaned inwardly as she saw his gaze fasten on her breasts. Which were now pushed up slightly over her crossed arms. Crap. Smooth move, Ex-Lax.

  Then she thought she caught a hungry look in his eyes.

  Are you out of your mind? Damien dated cheerleaders, not overweight nobodies with plain features and few friends. He was just thirsty and hot, not hot for her.

  Damien moved closer and she craned her neck, looking up at him, and knew her unease had to be apparent. She moved away until she felt the counter at her back and could go no farther. Expecting him to head away from her and back to the front door, she was surprised when he instead moved closer. He put his arms on either side of her body, effectively blocking her in and keeping her stationary.

  Lila's heart was beating like she was prey being chased by a jungle cat. His eyes burned into hers and she blushed, wondering what he wanted from her. Her nerves couldn't stand the silence, so she spoke to break the tension. "Thanks for...uh...picking up that stuff."

  Damien didn't answer but his eyes moved lower to her chest. She noticed the tops of her breasts were peeking over the neckline of her shirt, but she wouldn't lower her arms, even though she was sure he'd realized she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples hardened, and she could feel the tight points pressing into her arms. How embarrassing!