Twice As Delicious

  Twice As Delicious

  A MFM Romance

  Vanessa Vale

  Bella Love-Wins

  Twice as Delicious

  Copyright © 2017 by Vanessa Vale and Bella Love-Wins

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from both authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design: Bridger Media

  Cover graphic: Period Images

  Contents

  Twice as Delicious

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

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  About Vanessa Vale

  About Bella Love-Wins

  Also by Vanessa Vale

  Also by Bella Love-Wins

  Twice as Delicious

  Bella Love-Wins

  &

  Vanessa Vale

  One

  DANE

  “If you think the eighty-year-old lady over there is going to shiv me, then you’re taking your job too seriously.”

  Leo gave me that fuck you look, but didn’t let up.

  Great.

  He was at it again.

  I stood beside my best friend and bodyguard as he sized up the guests of the party, all well-dressed and interested more in the canapés than killing. I could see his less-than-trusting eyes scan each face, assessing every woman's purse and every man's form to make a best guess as to who was a threat and who wasn't.

  From where I stood, it was unnecessary. We were among some of the wealthiest and most powerful families in Manhattan, all friends and family of a young, soon-to-be married couple. I'd worked late and let him drive me directly here from my office close to Columbia University, and for this? For him to get suspicious of a harmless looking crowd?

  Of course, he saw past the elegant decor, the bespoke suits and expensive designer gowns. He looked beyond the lighthearted laughter and informal chatter and was focused on one goal: ensuring a safe buffer between me and any potential danger.

  Which was his job, but tonight, he took it to another level.

  “This is over the top, even for you,” I said, following him through the crowd. “I get that we haven’t been here before, but you realize this is an engagement party, right? We’re fine.”

  He slowed down long enough to glance back at me. “How about you let me earn all that money you pay me so I can be sure of that?”

  “I pay you to be cautious, not paranoid,” I countered, grabbing a wrapped asparagus off a passing tray.

  His gaze roved over the guests again. “There are times when paranoia is just good sense.”

  “And this is not one of those times,” I argued, wiping my fingers on a cocktail napkin.

  Leo ignored me, undoing the button of his dark gray suit jacket to slip his hand into his pocket as he looked around the large ballroom, squinting as he often did when sizing up someone he wasn’t sure of. Except tonight, he did that with almost everyone here. Close to a hundred guests ate, drank and socialized under massive chandeliers that lit the space. When a male server wearing all black passed by with an empty silver tray, Leo turned to study him. His jaw ticked.

  “This way, Dane,” he said stiffly.

  “Come on,” I pressed. “I’m sure the hosts are smart enough to cover their bases with sufficient security.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. That they’ve covered their bases…for themselves first, and guests second. Like I said outside, your client may be legit, and maybe his daughter is too, but for all you know, they have no clue they’re about to marry into organized crime. Or maybe they do.”

  “How about you say that a little louder for some of these guests to hear?”

  Leo was going overboard with his need to earn his keep and protect me. He’d worked as my bodyguard and head of security for the past four years since he’d left the Marines and started training to be an MMA fighter. He’d also been my best friend since childhood. Yet, I’d never seen him as concerned for my safety as he was now. But he was right that I had no connection to the man hosting tonight’s event. One of my tech firm’s longstanding clients invited me as he celebrated his daughter’s engagement to some guy I’d never met, a guy whose father was rumored to be one of the most ruthless crime bosses in the city. The owner of this mansion. The one with the supposedly less-than-spectacular security.

  “Relax. Let me do my job,” Leo insisted. He followed the server, who weaved quickly past the mingling guests and disappeared through a set of white swinging double doors near the back of the expansive room. And I followed Leo.

  “You’re almost doing it too well tonight.”

  Leo paused at the open bar just a few feet from the double doors. “Two vodka martinis, extra dry,” he ordered from the bartender. He leaned against the bar so he had a full view of the room, then returned his gaze to the double doors. “You’ll thank me one of these days when I actually save your ass.”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but the same server appeared through the swinging doors again, this time followed by a second waiter. Each of them balanced trays filled with finger foods. Which reminded me that I’d skipped dinner to meet with a new client at the office, and was fucking starving now. That bite of asparagus only made me want more. As the second waiter slowed down near us, I took one of the small plates and plucked up a tomato bruschetta onto my plate and popped a bacon wrapped mushroom into my mouth.

  “Let’s go,” Leo said, taking the drinks from the bartender and handing me one.

  Taking a swig of the vodka to wash the canapé down, I nodded. “Mmm. Good pairing,” I muttered, slipping through the doors—one definitely not meant for guests—and followed after him. I looked around the kitchen, seemingly decorated to give a commercial feel, with stainless steel and granite everything, and lit by bright halogen lights above several food prep stations. “You do realize that we passed by a perfectly good set of French doors that open onto a garden patio, as well as a long sliding glass door to a swimming pool in the backyard, don’t you?”

  He shook his head, gazed about the room while he responded. “Those won’t do. A high traffic area is never the best way out.”

  “Not that I need to know the intricacies of your security protocols, but…why?”

  A soft smile played at the sides of his mouth for a split second. A rare sight. “Haven’t you heard the saying, always have a discreet backup exit when you visit the home of an underground crime lord?”

  There was the usual dry humor of my best friend, although he wouldn’t show that side of himself on nights like these when he considered himself to be ‘on the job’.

  I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “No, can’t say that I have.”

  “Serving staff and caterers usually have easier access to a door that opens onto a driveway. At a party like this, the food’s cooked and prepped off-site. They need to be able to park close to
the kitchen or prep area, to lug their food and supplies back and forth from their vehicles. And it’s usually a short distance from the house. That isn’t always the case for landscapers and pool staff.” He looked back at me and ran an impatient hand through his short brown hair. Took a big gulp of his drink. “Just give me a few more minutes. Once I have something lined up, feel free to go mingle, toast the bride-to-be, talk shop with clients, drum up business with potentials, pick up a sweet piece of ass to take home with us, drink yourself under a table, or whatever it is that you do at these things.”

  “All of the above, although usually not in that order,” I said lightly after he turned at a bend ahead of us.

  “This is serious, otherwise I wouldn’t—” Leo abruptly stopped speaking and froze.

  “You wouldn’t what?” I asked his back, and as I got around the corner and made it to Leo’s side, I realized why we was suddenly wearing lead shoes.

  A tall, fit, beautiful brunette.

  I took one look at her, and all the air left my lungs.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  The stunning woman stood less than ten feet away. She was sexy as sin. Dark sultry eyes, olive skin, and a gorgeous face framed by raven, shoulder length hair. She wore a black cocktail dress that showed off every line and every curve of her lean, toned body. And those legs. Fuck, they were a mile long, propped up by sling-back stilettos that added several inches to her height.

  I could already picture those heels digging into my back as she wrapped those legs around my waist while I fucked her.

  I tore my gaze away from her just long enough to glance at Leo. The appreciative expression that raised his eyebrows, lifted the sides of his lips, and made the skin crease beside his eyes told me volumes. He had to be thinking the same thing as me.

  She was just our type. No, she wasn’t just our type. She was ours.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” she greeted us politely when she took notice of us, one hand hovering over the lid of a container she was likely opening before we’d shown up. Her tone brimmed over with professionalism, but I knew right away she was checking us out. Brazenly, too. Her eyes dragged down Leo’s body and up mine, her deep red lips parted, and her tongue traveled across her luscious top lip for a second longer than what’d be considered normal. “If you’re looking for the door to the patio, it’s back where you came from and to your left.”

  “It’s not the patio we’re after,” I answered in a murmur.

  “Oh. Well, if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, one of my servers will be back shortly. They can show you to whatever part of the house you wish.”

  I moved forward a couple of steps and leaned against the marble countertop covered with stackable covered food warmers. My guess was extra servings of those savory bacon appetizers were inside. While my mouth watered, it wasn’t for the food.

  “I believe my friend and I have found exactly what we were looking for,” I told her. Up close, I could see the softness of her skin, the long line of her neck.

  She looked up at me through those dark lashes. “Which is?”

  “You.” I didn’t break from her gaze and cared even less about returning to the party.

  She frowned. “Me? Sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “You work here, am I right?” I asked.

  She nodded. “You could say so.”

  Smiling, I rested my hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Can you tell my friend here where he can find the door that leads from the kitchen to the driveway?”

  She pointed away from us. “There’s a long hallway to the right of the stove. It leads to a pantry, and just past that room, there’s a large red door to the outside.”

  “Thanks for the directions.” I didn’t move, but Leo got the hint and nodded stiffly, taking off down the hall to check it out.

  “You’re welcome.” She stood there, hand still in mid-air above the container lid, probably debating whether to finish doing whatever she was working on before we showed up.

  But that was before I’d laid eyes on her and started fighting every instinct to do more than just eye-fuck her. I took in every one of her curves the dress didn’t hide. While the cut was modest—a high neckline and a hem that hit just above her knee—it hid nothing. Not the lush swells of her breasts, the narrow waist or the flare of her hips. While she was only five-five or so, her legs were long and lean. Toned. And in those heels?

  Hell, if I had my way, there wouldn’t be one sterile surface in this entire room after we were done blowing off steam.

  “I take it you manage the wait staff?”

  “Sort of, yes. My company catered tonight’s event.”

  Impressive.

  “It must be a pain, being stuck back here in the kitchen, away from all the action when you’d just as easily fit in with the party guests.”

  She offered a professional smile. One I knew well and pasted on myself often enough. She was being courteous and nothing more. I was going to change that.

  “Actually, I do intend to make an appearance. I’ll check on everything in a while. We’re short-staffed tonight, so I’m juggling a few extra tasks.”

  “That’s unfortunate…although, I doubt I’d get this much one-on-one time with you if you were out there rubbing shoulders with all those strangers.”

  “Strangers like yourself, you mean?” she asked coyly. “After all, we haven’t formally met.”

  In my head, I’ve already been intimately acquainted with every square inch of this unwitting seductress’s body, but she wasn’t wrong. “My apologies.” I took another few steps toward her and extended my arm, waiting for her to accept my offered handshake. “I’m Dane.” I angled my head down the hall. “My friend is Leo.”

  “Good to meet you, Dane,” she said as she took my hand. “I’m Harper.”

  “Harper. Lovely name.”

  She grinned now; this time it was genuine. “Thanks.”

  I took a lot of pride in reading people, and Harper was no exception. From that handshake, I could tell a hell of a lot about her. First, she was more than mildly attracted to me, the way she let me maintain my grip on her hand for as long as I did. The moan I was sure I heard her let out after she uttered my name didn’t hurt either.

  Second, her firm, confident touch told me she was a professional who took her business seriously. Her nails were unpainted and cut short. My palm met callouses on hers. She didn’t just run the company. She worked it.

  There was also the look in her eyes as they darted from me, to the double doors, to the food warmers, and back to me. I was in her way, an unexpected, tempting distraction who kept her from providing an exceptional experience to whomever hired her.

  Third, she was torn. She didn’t want her staff or her client to find her like this, in the kitchen chatting with me instead of tending to her affairs, let alone in a compromising situation. Yet she couldn’t just tell me to get the hell out so she could get back to work. I made her curious, but also nervous. She had a job to do, and I was in the way.

  And fourth, she seemed to be wound so damn tight she needed to be reminded what a good fuck felt like.

  I took it all as promising signs of one irrefutable fact: Harper was on the menu for tonight.

  Ripe for the taking.

  And plenty for both of us.

  And as Leo and I loved sharing one woman, we were just the guys to help her let loose.

  Two

  HARPER

  I should’ve known.

  It was bound to happen.

  Another disruption.

  And when I turned, I realized there wasn’t one, but two of them. Two gorgeous disruptions.

  One, a ruggedly handsome, broad-shouldered wall of a man. The next, a beautiful, square-jawed, expertly dressed Adonis who’d probably mastered the art of melting women’s panties and causing ovaries to explode with just one look.

  Mine were certainly perking right up at the sight of them.

  Two sinful distractions, and at the most incon
venient time, given that tonight’s catering gig was so crucial to the survival of my business. This engagement party, while only serving appetizers and finger foods, was just the first with this client, and it had to go perfectly. I’d also been booked for a seven-course dinner party for the rehearsal dinner, which was scheduled for roughly nine weeks from now. And directly after that, the wedding. It would be the biggest event of my career. Three hundred guests, and I was responsible for preparing everything from the appetizers to the seven-course meal to the bonbonnieres. It was a big job with the revenues to keep my business afloat for a long time. And the word-of-mouth opportunities to come from it? To say this client was important was an understatement.

  But Murphy’s Law happened.

  Shit hit the fan, and both my catering site coordinators called in sick on the same day, just hours before tonight’s event was to begin. I’d barely pulled it off, but as I had no other choice, I made it work. Like usual. Every event had to happen, had to be perfect. It was my job, my neck, my livelihood on the line.

  Of the three remaining wait staff, I’d stationed one at the bar, made the second responsible for the cold menu items and desserts, and the third handled the hot dishes. That left me and me alone to do the behind-the-scenes preparation in the kitchen.

  Which was why I was stuck in the back here. I was practically chained to my prep station instead of being free to check on the state of the event, and maybe spend time as I usually did at the cold desserts table. In this business, that was the sweet spot. Pun not intended.