Flaming Hot Page 9

“It did turn out good. So good that I want to take off this weekend. Could your mom cover for me tomorrow and Saturday?” She looked at Quade and smiled. “Quade invited me to go to Austin with him and I’d like to accept his invitation.”

  Rhea beamed. “Of course she can cover for you. In fact, why don’t you go ahead and leave now? It’s quiet. I’m sure Mary and I can handle everything.”

  Eve took Quade’s hand. “Let’s get out of here before she changes her mind.”

  She led him to the employee lounge so she could grab her purse, then showed him the inside stairs to her apartment. Once safely inside, she wrapped her arms around his neck and cuddled close to him. “The invitation to Austin still stands, right?”

  “Absolutely.” He looped his arms around her waist. “Why don’t you pack whatever you’ll need for the next three days and come home with me? Daisy and Cocoa miss you.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. “Daisy and Cocoa told you they miss me?”

  “They talk to me all the time. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other.” He ran his hands up and down her back. “Luckily, we have a lifetime to do that.”

  Flare

  1

  Paige Denslow smiled at the customer as she handed him the receipt for his purchases. “Thank you for shopping at Spencer’s. Have a great day.”

  He gave her what she assumed to be a smile of acknowledgement that barely turned up the corners of his mouth, then turned and left the store.

  Paige sighed. Just once, she wished a really hunky guy would pull up to the gas pumps—maybe wearing a black leather jacket and riding on a huge motorcycle. Yeah, someone like that would get her blood pumping.

  Unfortunately, Dolores Kirkland, one of the other clerks who worked for Clay Spencer in his convenience store, usually waited on the hunks. She had to be in her late sixties, maybe even early seventies, and had no interest in any of the good-looking guys who came in during her shift.

  Paige wondered why she couldn’t luck out and have one of Dolores’s guys walk through the entrance.

  She’d dated almost all the single guys in Lanville, including the ones who worked with her on the volunteer fire department. Unlike Talia King—one of her best friends who also volunteered on the fire department—she hadn’t found her soul mate like Talia had found Dylan Westfield. She’d hoped to develop something with Marcus Holt, but he’d thought their six-year age difference too much. Besides, he’d gotten back together with his ex-wife when she came to Lanville to visit her grandmother. They’d remarried in August and expected a baby in April.

  While happy for Marcus and Rayna, envy wrapped around Paige and made her wish for what she didn’t have.

  Mentally shaking herself out of the funky mood, Paige turned back to the project she’d been working on when the last customer came in the store. New lottery scratch-off tickets had arrived this morning, along with another display case. Spencer’s carried the biggest selection in Lanville for those people willing to gamble a little money in hopes of winning a lot.

  A ding from the machine that controlled the gas pumps signaled someone pressed the button to start adding gas to their vehicle. Paige glanced out the window in curiosity to see if it might be someone she knew. She blinked, looked a second time. Hand on her suddenly churning stomach, she straightened and stared at the man wearing a black leather jacket who was pumping gas into a huge black Harley.

  Wavy, dark brown hair flowed over his forehead and ears and down his neck. About six-one with the broad shoulders of a swimmer. Sunglasses protected his eyes. A couple days of scruff darkened his lower face. Olive skin. Tight, faded jeans covered his legs, black boots encased his feet.

  Holy shit.

  Her fantasy man had materialized, as if someone intercepted her thoughts and created him just for her.

  Her hormones did a happy dance.

  Since most people used a credit or debit card to pay for their gas, they didn’t come into the store unless they needed something besides gas. Please, oh, please, let him need something so he comes in! Let me have the thrill of seeing him up close.

  In case he did come in, she ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it and straightened her T-shirt.

  Paige kept glancing at the man while she unwrapped a stack of tickets. He replaced the nozzle in the pump, screwed the cap on his gas tank. Then he headed toward the entrance.

  Her hormones did another tap dance.

  He nodded at her once he stepped inside the store, but looked away before she had the chance to flash him her most dazzling smile. He strolled to the refrigerated section, perused the items through the glass doors before he opened one and withdrew a bottle of Pepsi.

  He continued his slow-paced stroll down the snacks aisle, picked up a bag of chips and a large Snickers. Paige tried not to stare at him, but her gaze kept wandering back to him. Such an attractive man hadn’t come in the store in a long time.

  Apparently finding everything he wanted, he approached the checkout counter. The closer he got to her, the heavier she breathed. He had full, pale pink lips that she easily imagined pressed against hers. She couldn’t call his face square, but more of a triangle with his forehead being a little narrower than his jawline. A silver stud winked at her from his left earlobe.

  She wished he’d take off his sunglasses so she could see his eyes.

  As if he’d read her mind, he pushed the dark glasses to the top of his head, exposing brown, almond-shaped eyes surrounded by thick, brown eyelashes. Lust churned in her stomach when his gaze met hers.

  Paige had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Will this be all for you?”

  “I also need some information,” he said in a voice that made her think of smooth maple syrup.

  “Sure.” Paige rang up the items while he drew his wallet from the pocket of his jacket. “What kind of information?”

  “I have an appointment at Café Crystal in about half an hour. Can you tell me where that is?”

  She blinked in surprise. She couldn’t imagine what kind of appointment he could have at the restaurant. “Uh, sure. It’s on County Road 311. Turn left when you leave here, then take a left at the stop light. Drive about two miles and you’ll see the turnoff for 311 on your right. Café Crystal is at the end of the road, next to The Inn on Crystal Creek.”

  He smiled, which transformed his face from handsome to panties-creaming gorgeous. “Thanks.”

  Paige caught herself before she fanned her face. “No problem.” She slipped his items into a plastic bag. Curiosity got the better of her. It might be rude, but she had to ask him about his appointment. “Are you seeing Emma about a job?”

  “A possible job. I answered an ad for an assistant chef.”

  “You’re a chef?”

  “Yeah.” Grinning, he held out his hands and looked down at himself. “Not your idea of a chef, huh?”

  She returned his grin. “Not exactly.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. That whole don’t-judge-a-book-by-its-cover thing.”

  “That’s true.” She passed the bag over the counter to him. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks …” He glanced at the name tag pinned above her left breast. “Paige.”

  He turned and walked toward the door. With his hand on the push bar, he looked at her over his shoulder. “If I get the job, maybe I’ll see you around town.”

  “You probably will. It’s a small town.”

  He nodded once in acknowledgement of her comment, then left the store.

  Paige placed her hand on her stomach again. A chef, of all things. She never would’ve guessed that about him. Not that a chef couldn’t look hot, but she didn’t get that kind of vibe from him. He seemed a little bit … dangerous.

  A shiver passed through her. What fun it would be to tame him.

  The sound of his motorcycle starting drew her attention back to the gas pumps. She watched hi
m don his helmet, then drive off with a purring roar of the Harley’s powerful engine.

  She wondered if it would be tacky to call Emma and beg her to hire him.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had another ninety minutes before her lunch break. She suddenly had a craving for one of Emma’s chicken Caesar salads. Picking up the phone, she punched in Talia’s number to invite her to lunch at Café Crystal.

  Cort Brennaman stopped his motorcycle close to the back door of Café Crystal. He’d spoken to Emma Keeton yesterday and she’d told him to enter the restaurant from the back since she would be in the kitchen.

  After removing his helmet, he opened the bottle of Pepsi and drank one-third of it in a single gulp. He glanced around the area, noting the neatly manicured grounds, plants, and flowers. He didn’t know one flower from another, but many still bloomed despite it being the first week of November. He knew little about architecture either, but had to admit he thought the mansion magnificent. Whoever had restored it had done an incredible job. The outside of Café Crystal bore a similar design and color scheme, so Cort assumed the same construction company had built it.

  He’d learn a lot about Lanville if Emma Keeton hired him. He had to make sure he got the job. Working at the restaurant would help him blend in with everyone else in town.

  Cort stepped inside the building. The warmth hit him in the face and he quickly shed his jacket. The angry female voice had him lifting his eyebrows at her fierce tone.

  “You and your brothers get someone here right now! It’s like an oven in the entire restaurant. I’m supposed to open in twenty minutes. I can’t do that and let my customers bake! … I don’t want any excuses, Griff … Of course I’ve tried turning off the heat! Don’t you think that’s the first thing I did? It just keeps running. Something has to be broken.”

  Cort peeked around the corner to see a petite brunette, phone to her ear, pacing the kitchen. He could almost see the thundercloud swirling above her head from her anger.

  “That’s the best you can do? Really? I have a party of thirty people tonight, Griff …” She blew out a hard breath. “Fine, whatever. Just get them here ASAP. I’ll have to put a sign on the door for people coming for lunch that we’re closed until further notice.”

  She jabbed a button to end the call. Cort wasn’t sure whether to say anything or remain in the background where he wouldn’t be in the line of her fire. “Excuse me.”

  She whirled around to face him. Even with her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed tightly together, he couldn’t help but notice her beauty. “What,” she said flatly.

  “I’m Cort Brennaman. I have a ten-forty-five appointment with Emma Keeton.”

  Some of the anger faded from her expression. “Yes, of course. I’m Emma Keeton.”

  “I couldn’t help hearing some of your conversation. You told that Griff guy that you tried to turn off the heat.”

  “I did.”

  “At the thermostat or breaker?”

  She blinked. “Breaker?”

  He would’ve smiled at her deer-in-the-headlights look if she hadn’t been so upset. “Where’s your breaker box?”

  “This way.”

  She led him to the back wall in a large storage room. Cort opened the door to the breaker box, quickly located the correct one that controlled the heating and air conditioning. He flipped it off, on, then off again to be sure the heat’s flow stopped.

  “I feel like such a dunce,” Emma said behind him. “I should’ve thought about the breaker. I’ve been running the AC, but that cold front last night dropped the temperature into the low forties. I turned on the heat when I got here to take the chill out of the restaurant.”

  “There’s definitely no more chill in here.”

  Emma chuckled. “That’s true.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Cort.”

  Cort accepted her hand. “Same here.”

  “I should give you the job right now because you saved me.”

  “I’ll take it. When do you want me to start?”

  She laughed out loud. “I’m easy, but not that easy. Let’s go to my desk.”

  He followed Emma from the storage room back to the kitchen. A small alcove off the kitchen held a desk with a computer, calculator, and various piles of papers on it, two chairs, a bookshelf, and a file cabinet. He waited until she took the chair behind the desk, then sat in the one to the side.

  Emma took a piece of paper off the top of one of the stacks on her desk. Cort recognized it as the application he’d completed online. “I’ve already talked to your former boss. He had nothing but good things to say about you. He claimed your pumpkin cheesecake is the best he’s ever tasted.”

  Cort tipped his head to acknowledge the compliment.

  “I have a party of thirty for dinner tonight. How about if you make that cheesecake for their dessert? I’m sure I have all the necessary ingredients. If it’s a hit, you’re hired.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Let me get through the lunch rush, then come back when you need to start preparing your dish. The party’s reservation is for seven-thirty. They’ll have salad, soup, and their entrée first, of course. I expect dessert will be served between eight-thirty and eight-forty-five.”

  “Works for me.”

  “If I do hire you, you’ll have some shifts in the kitchen at The Inn next door. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Emma smiled. “Good. Then I’ll see you back here this afternoon.”

  “I look forward to working with you, Ms. Keeton.”

  She stood and held out her hand. “Emma. We’re very informal around here.”

  Cort also stood, accepted her hand. “See you later, Emma.”

  After grabbing his jacket from the counter where he’d left it, Cort wandered out the exit and back to his cycle. If getting this job depended on his pumpkin cheesecake being a hit, there wouldn’t be any problem. He’d exaggerated on his application about previous chef experience, but hadn’t exaggerated about his ability to cook.

  Cort thought about what Emma told him as he straddled the Harley. His “former boss” had nothing to do with any restaurant. Cort had prompted him on what to say if Emma should call, which as a prospective employer she should. He must have been convincing. Emma never would have agreed to a tryout if she’d suspected the lie.

  If he didn’t get the assistant chef job, Cort would apply to other places in Lanville. He had no doubt he could charm his way into a position. He’d had a lot of experience with exaggeration.

  He’d do whatever he had to do to stay in this town, even if it meant lying and using people to get what he needed.

  An image of the blonde at Spencer’s flashed through his mind. Asking her for directions to Café Crystal—even when he knew its exact location thanks to GPS—gave him the chance to check the store’s layout, see how easy it would be to avoid security cameras. He’d need more time in there to research it fully.

  The blonde could help. Cort had recognized the interest in her eyes. She’d stood straighter, arched her back to put her breasts on display, when he looked at her. She could be useful in his plan. It never hurt to have someone on his side, especially if that someone happened to be a beautiful woman.

  2

  “Thanks for agreeing to supper instead of lunch,” Talia said as she picked up her glass of iced tea. “Dylan had a session with Quade, then they’re going to Stephen’s to tinker on his Mustang. There’s too much testosterone in the air with those three guys together. I told Dylan to go and have fun and I’d spend the evening with you.”

  “No problem.” Paige wouldn’t do anything to make her friend feel guilty about not having lunch at Café Crystal today so she could drool over the stranger if she got the chance. “Having supper here is better anyway. No rush to get back to work.”

  “Or to pack. I don’t know how I have so much stuff in that small house.”

  “When are you officially moving i
n with Dylan?”

  “I’ve kinda already moved in with him, but didn’t take all my stuff. Now that I’ve given Janelle notice of my move, I have until the fifteenth to get everything out and clean up the house so she can rent it out again.”

  “I’ll help you clean.”

  Talia smiled. “Thanks, Paige. I appreciate that. Dylan has already conned several of our guy friends into coming over with their pickups on the thirteenth to haul boxes and furniture, or whatever is left after the yard sale on the twelfth.” She leaned forward in her chair, an anxious look on her face. “You’re helping with that, right?”

  “Of course. So are Lucia, Julia, and Keely. We got you covered.”

  Talia chose a warm breadstick from the basket in the middle of the table, tore it in half. Paige could tell by her friend’s wrinkled eyebrows that something troubled Talia. “Are you having second thoughts about living with Dylan?”

  “Not … exactly. I mean, I love him and I know he loves me. It’s just that living together is such a huge step. Do you think I’m rushing it?”

  “You’ve been in love with Dylan since the first time you saw him. No, I don’t think you’re rushing anything. Y’all belong together.”

  A gentle smile curved Talia’s lips. “I think so, too. He’s just so perfect.”

  Paige snorted. Dylan worked as a mechanic at Spencer’s. She knew how unperfect he could be. “You don’t see his flaws because you love him.”

  “He has flaws?” she asked, batting her eyes innocently. Then she grinned. “Luckily, I can live with his flaws and he can live with mine.” She took a bite of her breadstick, laid the rest on her plate. “I wish you could find your Mr. Right.”

  “I’d settle for Mr. Okay right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve been horizontal with anyone. The last time was five months ago with Royce. That was a mistake I will not repeat.”

  Paige shuddered to think of the one time she’d given in to Royce Underwood. He’d been on the volunteer fire department about eight months when she’d let her hormones overrule her good judgment. Incredibly good looking and charming when he wanted to be, he said all the right things to get her to go out with him and invite him into her home for a glass of wine after their date. The evening should’ve ended with the wine. Instead, it hadn’t ended until she’d awakened shortly after two in the morning to see Royce sneaking out of her bedroom.