CHAPTER 17

Lexie needed to get out of her own house as fast as possible. The longer she stayed, the higher the probability that she’d fall back into bed with Sebastian Grayson. Thank God she’d arranged for Buster to drive by her house in the morning to trail her to work.

She peeked out the front door to make sure Buster was there. He was, his pickup truck idling in her driveway. Giving him a brief wave, she quickly slipped out of the door and walked briskly to her own car. She got in, immediately locked the doors—something she’d started doing since Cole had scared her into being more safety-conscious—and turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered on the first two tries.

Just when she was about to lose hope that her car would start, the engine went on. Phew. The last thing she needed was for her car to be in a repair shop again. She flicked on the radio and the alternative rock music she enjoyed floated through her battered speakers.

She waited a few moments for the engine to warm, then popped the car into gear and headed down her driveway, Buster following right behind her. Lexie was trying very hard not to think about the extremely large, sexy, and wonderfully masculine specimen she’d just left standing naked in her house.

And she was failing.

She balled her hand into a small fist and smacked the steering wheel. Unfortunately, her hand hit the horn, which honked loudly into the early morning air. Having startled herself, Lexie leaned back into her seat as her heart began to race.

She needed to take stock of the situation calmly and rationally without allowing her emotions to cloud her thoughts.

Last night was.… She had difficulty finding the right words. Incredibly hot? Toe-curling? Mind-blowing? Overwhelming?

If she was being totally honest with herself—and she was—she would have to admit that last night had been everything she’d just described. She’d told Sebastian the truth—that she was still getting over her experience with her rotten ex-boyfriend. But what she hadn’t told him was that Frank had been her one and only serious boyfriend.

Still, despite her lack of experience with other men, she suspected that Sebastian would be considered by most to be at the top of his game. That is, if the number of times he’d made her come was any indication.

Lexie groaned again as her nipples grew hard. Her own body was betraying her! So much for taking stock of the situation calmly and rationally. Maybe she should just stop thinking about him altogether.

Fat chance. His perfectly sculpted body was burned into her brain. And his spicy, male scent permeated her hair. She kicked herself for merely rinsing off in the shower this morning. Now she’d smell him all day. Great.

She was halfway to the LMK at this point. The sooner she got there, the better. Once she was ensconced in her restaurant with a million-and-one things to do, Seb would be off her mind. She hoped.

But the way Seb had looked at her with those panther eyes, like he was going to devour every inch of her body, was something she couldn’t forget. Even before they’d made love, he’d gotten to her. Made her crave more from him. More of him.

Oh, he’d gotten to her all right. And the only other person who’d gotten to her like that was Frank.

Instinctively, Lexie stiffened her body.

Would Sebastian morph into the beast that Frank had become? Would he mess with her mind like her ex had done?

She just couldn’t see him doing that. But then again, there were other ways of being hurt. And Seb’s reputation as a lady’s man preceded him. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to try the whole relationship thing again.

Boy, she was a mess! She had no experience with men, aside from a crazy ex and a famous chef. Some creep—she was no longer sure it was Paige—wanted her cake recipe. And she’d been attacked by a masked man.

“I’m really batting a thousand,” she muttered aloud. She turned onto Main Street and downtown Star Harbor came into view. Slowly, she drove through town and pulled into her parking spot behind the LMK. She grabbed her tote and walked to the back door, not bothering to wait for Buster to pull up. God, she was tired. Had Emma’s wedding really only been last evening? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Probably because I’ve aged ten years in a night,” she muttered again.

Buster walked through the back door, a despondent expression on his face. “Lexie,” he asked gravely, “what happened?”

“What do you mean?” she asked slowly.

“Seb’s bike was parked at your place. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

Buster shook his head and looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “He’s no good for you, you know.” And with that, he disappeared into the grill room.

Flustered, Lexie shrugged her jacket off her shoulders and hung it on a hook by the door. She began to remove the cakes baked two nights ago from the oversized refrigerator. One by one, she set them on the countertop to be iced. Buster knew. Even if he hadn’t seen the motorcycle, he was so perceptive that he probably would have guessed.

Lexie washed her hands and pulled out a huge mixing bowl from beneath the counter. Methodically, she measured out the ingredients she’d need for the pastry dough. She hooked the bowl to a large stand mixer and flicked it on. The ingredients began to churn, the dough forming into a sticky mass.

Strangely, she wasn’t embarrassed that Buster knew about her and Sebastian. Buster had been with her since day one. Knew almost everything about her. As if on cue, he appeared with a fried egg on a slice of toast.

“Got a lot of nice compliments yesterday,” he said, handing her the food.

“Everything was very well received, I think,” she responded, grateful that he’d moved on. “Pru Miller is coming by later this week to talk about the menu for a party she’s throwing. She could have easily hired a Boston caterer, but she said last night she wanted to hire us.”

“Good.” Buster turned and left.

She ate the egg and bread quickly, finishing just as the pastry dough needed to come out.

With the practiced skill of an expert, she formed the dough into proper shapes, adding already-made fruit preserves and sweet cheese, and set them in the oven to bake. The carrot-walnut muffins and peach scones were finished in record time. She was almost done icing the cakes as her staff members began trickling in for the morning service.

“Hey, Jenny,” Lexie asked as the younger woman was hanging up her coat. “How’s your family doing?”

“My family?”

“You know, your sister? Is she feeling better?”

“Oh! Oh, my sister. Yes, yes, she’s feeling much better. Thanks,” Jenny said. “I hope everything went well last night. Were the root vegetables tender? Did everyone like the retro desserts?”

“The root vegetables and the desserts were both big hits,” Lexie said, pushing aside the nagging feeling that Jenny had deliberately changed the subject. “You’ll let me know if I can do anything to help you or your family, right?”

“I will, thanks.” Jenny ducked past her, clearly relieved that the line of questioning had come to an end.

Lexie frowned. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Still, she had too much to do today to take on someone else’s problems.

At seven-thirty sharp, she unlocked the front door to the restaurant. As a few waiting patrons filtered in, Lexie was surprised to see Cameron walk through the door. Making sure Rachel had the other guests covered, Lexie gestured for her friend to follow her to the counter.

“Cameron, hi. What a treat,” Lexie said. “I hadn’t expected to see you again until next weekend.”

“I left the wedding just after dinner, because we’re taking inventory at my store,” she confided. “By the way, I thought the food was superb, Lexie. Really wonderful.”

“Thanks,” Lexie said with a big smile, pleased. “You can always come to the source to get some,” she said, gesturing around her restaurant.

“Of course,” Cameron said, smiling, her deep violet eyes twinkling. “You know, I’m planning to host a fall party at my Boston boutique. Small hors d’oeuvres and cocktails only. Would you consider catering the event?”

“I’d love to,” Lexie said, well aware of the prestige the event would bring. Even better, she’d be helping out a friend. “Let me know the details and we can sort out a plan.”

“I’ll do that,” Cameron said. “I can tell you now that the theme will be the legend of the Siren Lorelei—you know, the pirate ship that purportedly sank off the coast of Star Harbor. I’ve asked Branford Weld, the president of the Star Harbor Historical Society, to come and give a brief talk, and my uncle will bring some antiquities from his own shop to discuss.”

“Sounds interesting.” The pirate story was a tough one for Lexie to swallow, even though she’d grown up near San Francisco, home to the Barbary Coast. But if her friends enjoyed it, who was she to argue? “I’ll have to plan some appropriate fare. Maybe some grog.” At Cameron’s horrified look, Lexie laughed. “Just kidding, of course. It’ll be more along the lines of what I served for hors d’oeuvres at Emma’s wedding.”

“Oh, wasn’t the ceremony beautiful?”

“Lovely,” Lexie agreed.

“And Emma told me their honeymoon’s going to be ten days long.”

“Sounds about right. They’re leaving for Prince Edward Island early this morning. So,” Lexie asked, holding a pencil at the ready, “I’ll take your order myself. What can I get you for breakfast?”

“Hm. How about an egg white omelet with cheddar cheese?”

Lexie grinned and tucked the pencil back into the pocket of her apron. “Everyone loves Buster’s omelets.”

“Thanks, Lexie.”

“Not at all. I’ll send Rachel back with your food soon. Coffee in the meantime?”

“Yes, please.”

Lexie grabbed the pot, poured Cameron a cup, and called out the order to Buster. Then she walked around the dining room, pouring coffee, water, and orange juice, and helping out her servers when things got busy.

A typical Sunday morning. And the perfect thing to keep her mind off a certain green-eyed, black-haired demon of a man.