“I’ll drive so I can drop you off afterward.”
Without another word, she followed him to his Jeep and crawled up into the passenger side.
“The Tavern okay with you?” The Tavern was Windamere’s best watering hole, by far. Open every night but Sundays, it wasn’t pretentious or overpriced, even during tourist season. The food was simple and fresh, and they had the best local brews on tap, including a delicious Belgian-inspired white.
“You know I love the Tavern. I could go for something to eat too. You?”
“Always.”
He had the metabolism of a racehorse and a deep love of food. Trying new foods and recipes, and eating, were at the top of his hobby list. Lucky for him, working out was a close second.
“What about the nachos at the Tavern?” She angled her body toward him in the Jeep. “Mmm. Or their Welsh rarebit.”
“Done. I love their rarebit, and they make a phenomenal corned beef sandwich. That’s what we’re getting.”
The Tavern’s interior was dark wood floors and wainscoting, brightened up by warm lighting and walls painted a creamy yellow. He and Sophie grabbed one of the high tops near the bar and ordered as soon as they sat down. Once their beers arrived, he held up his pint glass, determined to go ahead and get this part out of the way. “Here’s to putting the last couple of months behind us and speaking to one another again.”
Sophie raised her glass. “Hear, hear.”
He clinked his glass against hers.
They kept the topic of conversation light until their food arrived, discussing the newest employees, how to keep the momentum going on Honeywilde’s recent success, the startling realization that Devlin, of all people, was settling down with a nice girl and likely to be the first Bradley to get hitched.
“I never would’ve guessed, but I think he might beat Roark to the altar.” Sophie sipped at the stout she ordered, a little mustache of foam decorating her upper lip before she licked it clean.
Wright coughed and stared into his beer. “Yeah. Crazy. You’ll be the first to know.”
“Doubtful. He’ll come to you first for guy advice; how to pop the question, buying rings and stuff.”
“You’d know more about rings than I do.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
Sophie didn’t wear rings or much jewelry at all. Tiny gold ball earrings and occasionally a gold chain with a horseshoe pendant. The necklace was her biological mother’s, the earrings a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Bradley, before they separated.
Did anyone else notice that Sophie wore the earrings almost every day, but the necklace only came out a few times a year?
Why those few times? What was the significance of when she chose to wear it? He never asked, but always wondered.
“Maybe. But you’ll be the best man and I’ll be . . .” Her gaze drifted to the bar, a shadow of sadness briefly drifting over her before she shrugged it off. “I don’t know what I’ll be. Flower girl?”
He took a sip of his beer and shook his head. “Dev can be pretty untraditional. Maybe you’ll be the best man.”
Her laugh brought a smile to his face, like the first warm day of spring.
“Besides, I think you’ve outgrown flower girl eligibility.”
“I’ve outgrown a lot of things.” She met his gaze, unwavering.
See? What was that supposed to mean? She’d outgrown her connection to him? Or had she outgrown being just friends with him?
He’d sworn he wouldn’t overanalyze or try to guess at offhand comments, but noticing every little thing Sophie did was in his blood. His bones were dense with years spent as her confidant.
He knew all of her little quirks, her telltale signs, and what he didn’t know made him wonder, longing to learn more. And yes, he even knew about her teenage crush on him.
He was running around with Devlin in high school, raising hell at the age of sixteen and seventeen, and little freshman Sophie had looked at him like he was a god.
He’d hated and loved it. She was his best friend’s baby sister, the one who told on them all the time and relentlessly picked at his ego—which in fairness, at sixteen, probably needed the picking. But she was funny and cute and didn’t intimidate the shit out of him like everyone else of the opposite sex.
Now she was still funny, more hot than cute, and sometimes she intimidated him. But he liked it.
“Hot plates. Here’s y’all’s rarebit and corned beef.” The waitress slid their orders onto the table and Sophie finally looked away.
“This smells delicious.” Wright thanked the waitress and waited on the dish to cool.
“You’re not digging in?”
“Ladies first.”
Sophie rolled her eyes but gave him a small smile. She cut off a corner of the rarebit and popped it in her mouth, immediately trying to blow and chew the hot bread and cheese.
“’S hot.” She puffed the words and fanned her mouth.
“The waitress did warn us.”
“Smart ass.” She kept fanning and laughed.
After that, the meal went smoothly; no more resolute stares, no proclamations about outgrowing things that confused the hell out of him. Just the two of them, some rich food and beer, and he couldn’t be happier.
He considered telling her about his job offers. The chances to work nearby at a flagship in Asheville or move hours away, to try and make it big in New York City, but as much as he wanted that level of confidentiality back between them, Sophie was still a Bradley.
Honeywilde was her family business, and as chef, he was employee first, friend second.
“Did you hear about the Chamber booking an event at the inn?” Sophie asked. “And they want us to pick the theme.”
“What kind of event?” He bit into his half of their sandwich.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, because I wasn’t paying attention—”
“You sound like Dev.” He laughed.
“No, that’d be old Dev. New Dev pays attention. But apparently they want to host their fund-raiser at Honeywilde last minute because a common area at the college is now a swamp. I’m guessing we’ll provide a chunk of the labor and have to work under their direction, again, because it’s the Chamber and they can do what they want.”
“That could be a good thing. Their fundraiser brings in Windamere’s finest, and that helps Honeywilde via word of mouth.”
She picked up her half of the sandwich. “True. But I’m worried about what theme they’ll want us to go with. Their original theme was some kind of circus or farm days thing. I don’t want to wind up with a farm on our property. Goats are cute, but not when they’re running around, chewing up my flowers and pooping everywhere. The operational side would be a nightmare. Plus, poop.”
Wright laughed, choking on his sip of beer.
Sophie reached over and slapped him on the back a few times.
“I don’t think they’ll do anything circus related at Honeywilde. They should make it a swanky event. No goats or things you bounce up and down on.”
This time, she had to put her sandwich down to laugh. “The what?”
“The bouncy things. You know; the blow-up things.” Wright patted her back to return the favor, the cotton of her shirt soft and thin enough that the heat from her body warmed his palm.
“Is there something you need to tell me, Wright?” Her eyes sparkled. “What have you been bouncing up and down on in your spare time?”
She was teasing him.
Eons had passed since he’d seen that look in her eyes or the taunting curl of her lips, but there they were.
His heart kicked. He’d begun to wonder if he’d ever see that expression on her face again.
“As you know, I don’t have any spare time.” He hurried to respond, determined to hold on to the moment. “But if I did, my bouncing would be my business.”
When he moved his hand away from her back, she pushed against his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. “No, it wouldn’t. You know
how things go at Honeywilde. First it’d be Dev’s business, then it would be my business, then Trevor’s, and then everyone else’s.”
“Sad how true that is. Except Devlin was . . . bouncing with Anna for a while before any of us knew.”
“Oh come on.” Sophie tossed her head back, the Tavern’s lighting catching the gold in her red hair. “I knew they were bouncing.”
“When he asked us to help him with their picnic dinner?”
“Before then.”
“You did not.”
“I did too.”
“Sure you did. Easy to claim, now that everyone knows.” He was pressing his point just to pick on her. He knew she’d known.
“I will call Dev right now and he can tell you I was on to him before anybody else.”
“You like to be a know-it-all. Go ahead and call him.”
She reached for her purse, but Wright grabbed it off the back of her chair.
“Real mature. Give me my bag.”
He might as well be ten years old again, playing keep away from Sophie, but he couldn’t help himself.
Sophie glared playfully as he held her bag out of reach. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
How could he stop now? He’d enjoyed teasing her more today than he did ten years ago.
If the spark in her eyes and the smile on her lips were any indication, she enjoyed it too. He wasn’t going to put the brakes on something that made them both happy.
And as he turned this way and that, his height and long arms giving him the advantage of keeping her bag well out of her reach, she got closer and closer. She stretched and made grabs, stopping short of climbing on him to get her bag back. He twisted to prevent her until she wound up standing between his legs, swatting at his arms, both of them laughing like little kids.
But the heat spreading through his body was far from innocent.
“Hey, guys.” A male voice startled them.
Sophie dropped her outstretched arms, her hands landing on his thighs, before she snatched them away.
Two of his acquaintances, Caleb and Shane, had walked in without him noticing.
Wright lowered his arms and she tugged her purse free, hurrying back to her chair.
“Hey.” He made himself smile at Caleb and Shane.
He wasn’t overly fond of either. They both partied too much and talked too much about their supposed “conquests,” and they leered at women, including Sophie.
“Surprised to see you out in the real world, man,” Shane teased. “Thought you said you worked all the time.”
“He does.” Sophie gave them a tight smile.
Wright didn’t think she had much history with them, but he could be wrong. Being single in a small town meant the dating pool was that much smaller. She could’ve gone out with either or both guys at some point.
A sharp bite of annoyance made him shift in his seat.
Sophie was too good for the likes of them, and the idea of either guy having their hands on her—“You should go ahead and order if you’re here for food.” Wright jumped onto something to get rid of them. “Kitchen closes in a bit.”
“Nah, we’re just here to drink.” Caleb pulled out one of the other chairs at their table.
Neither guy acted like he needed more to drink—this was probably their last stop of the night—or bothered asking if they could join them.
He and Sophie shared a look.
Hell yes he minded, but making that point was tricky. He wasn’t here on a date with Soph. They were pals, and to indicate otherwise would start Caleb and Shane running their mouths again, and the gossip mill would start churning. Still, he didn’t want to share their time together with these guys.
He opened his mouth, prepared to tell them they were discussing Honeywilde business, so maybe they could shove off, when Sophie spoke, her voice dripping in sarcasm. “Go ahead and sit down, why don’t you?”
She was being a grade-A smart-ass, but neither of them was intelligent enough to pick up on it.
“What’s new up at the lodge?” Caleb asked, pulling his chair close to Sophie’s.
“It’s not a lodge.” Wright corrected him. “And lots of things are new. We hired on some new staff and, as a matter of fact, we were in the middle of talking business, so—”
“Yeah? Any girls? Any of them hot?” Now he had Shane’s full attention.
They ordered beers and another half an hour went on like this, Wright getting more annoyed with each inane comment and topic.
Eventually, Sophie met his gaze, and a silent agreement was reached.
The two of them were getting the hell out of there.
“I’m going to the restroom before we leave.” Sophie slid off her stool, taking her purse with her, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Caleb and Shane were on Wright like leeches.
“So what’s up with you and the ice princess being all over each other when we got here?” Shane asked.
The hairs on the back of Wright’s neck stood on end. “We weren’t all over each other. What do you mean Ice Princess?”
Caleb laughed, slapping the table. “You didn’t know that’s her nickname? Ever since she turned Shane down cold when he asked her out, and Matt told us he drew back a nub when he put the moves on her.”
Wright glared. “She only went out with Matt three times.”
“Exactly! They hung out for a couple of weeks and he got nothing. No kiss, nothing.”
“You know . . .” Shane tapped his chin, and the smarmy look on his face made Wright want to break it. “Now that I think about it, maybe the reason she shut me down, and Matt wasn’t getting any, was because Princess and Wright have something going on.”
Caleb slapped him across the back like he ought to be congratulated.
“You can shut up now.” Wright bristled and Caleb pulled his hand away as both men snickered.
“Tell the truth, Wright. How long have y’all been hooking up?”
“We aren’t hooking up.”
Caleb wasn’t going to let it go though. “Not for a lack of trying, I bet.”
Wright glared and Shane howled with laughter. “You should see your face, man. You are trying to hit that.”
“Sophie and I are friends and you’re an asshole.”
“Whatever, man. Y’all sure looked cozy when we got here. If you’re not already tapping that ass, you’re at least trying to.”
God almighty he wanted to hit them. Beating their ass might not do any good, but it’d certainly make him feel better. Back in the day, he would’ve, but he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore. He needed his hands, unbroken or busted up, in order to do his job, and he wasn’t keen on getting banned from the Tavern for these two losers. “You know what, you’ve both had too much to drink and—”
“She could’ve kept sitting in your lap, we wouldn’t have cared.”
“No wonder we never see you out anymore.”
“That’s because I’m working.”
“Yeah, working.” Shane made little air quotes. Wright was going to punch him anyway, hands be damned. “I’d be working with her too. I’d work all the damn time.”
“Me too.” Caleb laughed. “I bet she’s a spitfire in bed. Redheads usually are.”
“Tell the truth, how many times have you screwed her in that kitchen?”
Wright shoved his chair back and stood, ready to grab Shane by the neck. Then his gaze met Sophie’s.
She stood in the doorway by the bar, eyes wide, her expression frozen in horror.
Caleb and Shane both buried their faces in their beers.
Sophie blinked, right before she turned and ran.
“Soph.” Wright took off after her, the sound of Caleb’s snickering called to him, making him want to go back and kick both their asses. But Sophie was what mattered.
How much had she heard? What had she heard?
“Sophie, stop.”
“No.” She spun on him. “You stop. Stop pretending you’re my friend.”
She stalk
ed off again and Wright went after her. “What are you talking about? I am your friend.”
She turned again. “A friend wouldn’t let them say that about me.”
“I wasn’t letting them say anything. I was about to beat the shit out of both of them when I saw you.”
This time, she had no response, but she still took off again.
With his height, it was easy to catch her. Wright moved in her way, blocking her path. “Will you stop for a second and listen to me?”
“How can they talk about me like I’m loose? They know perfectly well I’m not. They’ve both tried to get in my pants and both got my foot in their ass for their efforts.”
“They’ve hit on you?”
“Of course they have. They’re jerks, right? That’s who I attract. But for them to sit there and say that about me . . .”
“No one thinks you’re loose, Soph.”
“Then why were they saying all of that?”
“To get a rise out of me.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yes, it does.”
She tossed her hands up, letting them fall at her sides. “No. It doesn’t.”
“They know I’m protective of you, okay? I always have been. Everybody knows that. The damn bag boys at the grocery store know it. Shane and Caleb know I’m not hooking up with you, but they’re messing with me because—” Wright clamped his lips shut.
Shit.
Shit fire. He shouldn’t have said so much.
“Because why?” Sophie’s gaze homed in, a tiny crease forming between her brows.
Wright walked past her to get to his Jeep, and she was right behind him.
“Because why, Wright?”
Not this again. He couldn’t go through this a second time. They’d finally gotten somewhere near back to normal.
“Wright.” Sophie grabbed his arm, yanking hard to make him stop and turn around.
In her eyes he saw suspicion and confusion. But more than that, he saw the vulnerability, the same yawning empty space and need that everyone else seemed to overlook. How could they miss the delicate side of her? She rarely showed her insecurities, but when she let her guard down, it clawed at his heart.
He hated that emptiness. Hated that Sophie didn’t feel whole and wonderful, because to him, she was.
A Taste of Temptation Page 5