by Jill Shalvis
Which reminded her, no more men!
“Never mind,” she said urgently, trying to back away but suddenly his hands were on her hips, drawing her against him.
“No, you asked, and I’m going to tell you. I want to make sure you hear me, though.” His hands slid up her arms, slowly, so slowly, to capture her face, which he gently stroked with his fingers. “Yes, I like you, just for you.” He smiled, and it was rueful. “I didn’t want to like you, I’ll give you that. But it’s done now, and I won’t turn from it.”
Panic was new for her. New and unwelcome.
He liked her! “I think we should stick with your instincts,” she said quickly. “We don’t want to like each other, so we should—”
He set a finger to her lips, halting her words, and leaned even closer, so their mouths were only a fraction of an inch apart. “Don’t say this is stupid,” he murmured. “I’m well aware of the stupidity factor.”
“So let’s get smart!”
He smiled slowly. “Later.” And he placed his mouth over hers.
It was what she’d dreamed about every night since she’d come to Little Paradise, whether she wanted to admit it or not. But even in her dream, she hadn’t gotten it right.
This was right.
It was also terrifyingly hot, deep, messy and…bone-melting.
Riley didn’t just kiss her; no, he had to possess her. Had to make her surrender to it. His hands hauled her closer, his lips claimed hers, and she couldn’t hold back her sigh of pleasure because this was even better than her midnight fantasies.
At her little whimper, he groaned and deepened the kiss. Both of them staggered, and she fell back against the counter, Riley right with her, holding her, touching her, kissing and kissing her as if he never intended to let go.
She thought that just might be okay with her. She couldn’t get enough, either. Her hands slid up his chest, around his neck, holding his head close to hers in case he decided he didn’t want to kiss her anymore.
No chance. His hands held her captive between the hard counter and his even harder body. When she finally had to break off the kiss or suffocate, he simply shifted, dropping openmouthed kisses along her jaw, her neck, nuzzling at her collarbone where the material of her shirt gave away.
She did the same, tasting his skin, tugging on his earlobe with her teeth, eliciting a deep-throated moan before he cupped her face again, holding her still to kiss her; harder, wetter, deeper than before.
Wrapped around each other as they were, the ringing didn’t immediately sink into Holly’s consciousness, but eventually they had to stop to breathe again, and that was when she realized she’d totally lost it.
“I have to get that,” she murmured, straightening.
He straightened, too, looking hot, bothered and so damn sexy she had to turn away from him to even remember her name.
And she still had trouble.
“Holly,” she murmured, placing a hand to her racing heart. “Holly Stone.”
Riley let out a shaky laugh. “I didn’t expect anything like that.”
“But at least you didn’t nearly forget your name.”
“No, but I forgot everything else.” He shoved a hand through his already messed-up hair and stared at her. “That was…amazing.”
The phone rang again.
They could only look at each other. Holly actually might have gotten to the phone, but she didn’t, couldn’t, move.
The machine picked up the call, and after the message had run, Holly’s mother’s voice filled the room.
“Holly? I heard from the Mendozas, they were upset enough to make a shore-to-ship call! Tell me you haven’t really messed up as badly as we’ve heard. I need to know whether you think you can fix things or if I have to send someone out there. Holly? Is the situation still out of control?”
Holly looked at the machine. “The situation?” She had to laugh, with lips that were still wet from the most amazing kiss she’d ever had. She looked at Riley, who’s lips were also wet. “Definitely still out of control,” she said to herself.
Riley seemed to agree with that assessment as he turned to face the counter, leaning on it with tensed arms as if he needed the extra support.
“Holly?” Her mother’s very cultured voice sounded annoyed. “I need you to call me back right away, do you understand? If you’re going to do this to me, I need to know immediately so I can save the entire operation—”
Holly whipped up the phone, hoping to stop the words before her mother could further humiliate her in front of Riley. “This is a café, Mother, not one of your patients.”
“You’re there.”
“Yes, and I happen to have things perfectly under control.”
“How can you when you’re dumping ice water into the laps of big, hungry men? Or hiring the town floozy?”
Riley was looking at her now, and the expression on his face held an interesting and horrifying mixture of pity and compassion. Damn him anyway. Didn’t he realize her mother always spoke to her this way? That she’d never had faith in Holly, but that was okay because she didn’t deserve it since she’d never done anything to earn that faith? “The water thing was an accident,” she muttered.
“How about the gas leak? Killing people is bad for business.”
“Yes, I realize that.” Holly turned her back to Riley. “Trust me, everything is going to be fine.”
“I’m not going to trust you,” her mother said, shocked at the very idea. “How can I? You’ve held more jobs than this entire family put together. You’ve never in your life remained with one project for more than it took you to lose interest in it.”
Well, that hurt.
It shouldn’t, Holly reminded herself, not when it was true. But dammit, she was trying to change. “I realize I’ve never given you a reason to trust me before, but things are different now. I—I really wanted to make you proud of me on this one. I think I still can.”
How embarrassing was this? She was practically begging for her mother’s attention.
Even worse, Riley had come close, his big, tall body right behind hers. He cocked his head so his ear was close to hers, next to the receiver. She tried to move away but he slid his hands real soft and gentle around her waist.
She couldn’t resist soft and gentle. She’d never felt it before, not like this.
“Holly, this isn’t the time to resolve your issues with your family,” her mother said. “Just don’t make me look bad, I promised the—”
While her mother droned on, Riley switched tactics. He shifted to her other side, to her free ear, and whispered, “Hang up.”
“I can’t,” she mouthed, pushing him away.
Riley refused to be budged.
“—we’re trying to sell that place,” her mother continued, on a roll. “It has to look good when potential buyers come through. I should see if I can get your brother or sisters, or someone, out there, I—”
“I can do this,” Holly said, and dammit, her voice wavered. “I just need some more time.” She might have even groveled, because this project had come to mean so much more than she could have ever imagined.
But Riley was right there, listening to every word, watching her with an intensity that made her want to squirm, and she refused to show him her weaknesses.
“I just want you to admit you’re in over your head,” her mother said.
Over her dead body. “Mother, I—”
Static burst in her ear, only it wasn’t the phone. It was Riley, doing a great imitation of a bad connection.
He winked at her and went on making the obnoxious noise.
She grinned back, suddenly feeling…light. “Gotta run, Mother. Bad connection.”
“Holly! Don’t you dare—”
Riley pushed his finger onto the base, effectively cutting her off.
“Nice timing,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He shifted her in his arms, turning her to face him. “Now…where were we?”
�
��Oh, no, you don’t.” With an uneasy laugh, she backed out of his arms. On the counter was an open container of flour, salt and the various makings of bread, which she was about to give a shot, compliments of one of Maria’s recipes. To keep both her mind and her hands busy, she dipped into the flour and began measuring.
“Why don’t you just admit it,” he asked quietly. “We seem to have an attraction problem.”
“We don’t have any such thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Now he was close again, too close, his body pressed hard against the back of hers, his mouth doing things to her neck that made her eyes cross with lust.
She immediately lost count of how many cups she’d measured and stared stupidly into the bowl.
“Tell me you’re not turned on,” he said huskily, rocking his hips slowly against her bottom, allowing her to feel the fact that he was exactly that. “Tell me.” His hands, oh, those very talented hands, slid from her hips over her ribs and dallied there, outlining each and every one with slow precision.
She ached. “There is a room full of people out front,” she managed to reply, just barely stopping herself from melting to the floor in a boneless heap.
“Tell me to stop, and I will.” The tips of his fingers stroked the very bottom curve of her breasts now and she nearly moaned out loud.
Tell him to stop? She couldn’t even breathe. “I don’t want this,” she told him, twisting in his arms and flinging hers around him, taking his mouth hard.
“You may not like wanting it,” he said, tearing away to tell her, “but you do.” And then he rejoined the kiss, the all-consuming kiss, until they were both grappling for a better grip, streaking their hands over each other, dying, dying for more.
“Ahem.”
Holly gasped, then shoved away from Riley to face a broadly grinning Jud.
“Sorry,” he said, looking anything but. “I heard some banging around in here and just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Everything is okay,” Riley said, sounding pressed for air.
“Hmm. Sure?”
“Sure,” Riley said tightly. “We’ve got everything under control.”
Jud didn’t move. “Can’t be too sure, you know.”
“Jud.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Do you like your job?”
“Very much.”
“Good. Get out and you can keep it.”
Jud nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, you don’t need to tell me twice. But you might want to wipe those handprints away.”
“What handprints?”
“The ones made of flour that are all over your butt.”
Holly just groaned.
8
BY MONDAY, Holly was ready for business. Really ready this time.
“It’ll be great,” Dora told her. She was popping her wild-raspberry bubble gum as she prepared for their first family-style dinner. “I’ve got the lasagna nearly set, you handled the bread—excellently I might add—and we’ve actually got help out front.”
“Assuming we get customers.” Holly paced the kitchen in an unusual fit of nerves. “I hope Steve can take the pressure.” She was referring to Dora’s younger brother, who was going to wait tables in the afternoons after school. “The people here are brutal.”
Dora laughed as she stopped in front of the steel refrigerator to check out her reflection. “They are not. They were only brutal to you because you asked for it.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Oh, really?” Dora smiled, then straightened, lifted her nose in the air and strutted across the kitchen as if she owned the place. “You didn’t walk like this? You didn’t maybe, just a little, think you were too good for this backcountry, out-of-the-way little hole-in-the-wall?”
Holly had to laugh at the imitation, which granted, probably wasn’t that far off the mark. “If I thought I was too good, you people showed me otherwise in less than thirty seconds.”
“No one meant to hurt your feelings. We just have an inherent mistrust of ‘them city folk,”’ Dora said, drawling out the last two words.
“Well, maybe I deserved to be taken down a peg or two. I guess I thought I was better than this place.” It was humbling. “Though I’ve learned the opposite is true.”
Dora dropped the pretense and became Dora again. “Don’t you say that. I love having you here. You’ve given me so much.”
“What? A job?” She felt the desperate need to lighten this conversation before she had to face exactly what and how much this place had given her.
“Yes, a job. Among other things. Holly…are you going to stay? Maybe even be with Riley?”
Holly forced a laugh. “Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.”
“Uh-huh.” Dora smirked. “You’re hot for him.”
“I thought you wanted him.”
“Nah, I just said that to be petty.”
“I’m going to stay,” Holly said. “Until this place sells.” And when it did, she’d have to find a new place to go. A new job. New friends.
She didn’t want new people in her life. She wanted what she’d started for herself here. She wanted these friends, people like Dora. Yes, maybe she wore too much makeup. Maybe her hair was teased into new and dizzy heights and she wore pink spandex that wasn’t quite as flattering on her very lush figure as she probably hoped.
But she was smiling at Holly with such affection, such fondness, that she felt tears sting her eyes. To combat that, she imagined herself in one hour, standing at the front door, looking like an idiot as she waited for customers that weren’t going to come.
THEY CAME. Riley made sure of it. Due to his influence, and a good amount of called-in favors, the place was comfortably full.
The lasagna was fantastic.
The service was…interesting. Steve did his best, but he was easily flustered, especially when three of his high-school classmates—all girls—came in, sat down at one of his tables and proceeded to giggle every time he walked by.
He dropped a pitcher of ice water, though not in anyone’s lap, so that was a bonus. He messed up several bills, giving Jud one for forty-five dollars, and then a family of six one for six dollars.
Both of which were fixed by Holly, who had a smile firmly in place and her best manners on. She was flitting back and forth between the kitchen and helping Steve, lending a hand wherever it was needed.
Her hair was not perfect, she had a smudge of mascara beneath one eye and a red sauce stain across the front of what should have been a simple cotton sundress, but on her nothing was simple.
He shouldn’t have kissed her.
He could still taste her, could still feel her body under his hands. No way could he have predicted that amazing, almost explosive chemical reaction between them. He would have thought she’d shove him away.
Dammit, she never did what she was supposed to do.
Without thinking, he headed straight toward her, only to be stopped by a smirking Jud.
“What? You want more flour on your butt?”
“Jud—”
“Yeah, yeah, mind my own business.” Jud sat back down and stuffed a huge bite of lasagna into his mouth. Grinning, chewing, he studied an uncomfortable Riley. “Hard to do, boy, when you’ve got your feelings out for the world to enjoy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. You’ve got it bad. Real bad.”
“I do not.”
“Oh, you’ve got it sooo bad.” His grin spread. “And for a city girl at that.”
“Jud—”
“I know. I’ll shut up just as soon as I get to my point.”
“You have one?”
“Very funny.” Jud shoved in another bite and shook his head. “Mmm, that girl really got it right this time.”
“Your point,” Riley said through his teeth.
“Ah, yes.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “My point is, I’ve been worried. I thought you were g
oing to let love pass you by. It disturbed me, because if ever a man was made for having a family around him, it’s you, Riley.”
“I have family. I have my dad. I have—”
“A woman. I mean a woman. And your own kids.”
“Whoa.” Riley lifted a hand. “Just stop right there. I’m not even close to thinking about that stuff right now.”
“Ah. You’re still thinking with your zipper.” Jud nodded smugly. “That’s okay, too. I figure you deserve that, the rest will come.”
“Jud—”
“She’s a fine woman,” Jud said quietly, nodding to Holly. “I misjudged her, and so did everyone else. Get her to stay, Riley.”
“Are you kidding? Soon as she’s able, she’ll hightail it out of here.”
“She likes you.”
“No.”
“Do I need to remind you about those flour handprints?”
Jud let out a low laugh. “Wants me, maybe. But like? No.”
“Son—”
“And even if I’m wrong, it’s nothing that won’t go away when she’s tired of slumming.”
“I think you’re underestimating the both of you. Get her to stay.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“Sure about that?”
They both looked at Holly, who was smiling a bit nervously at Dan. Dan pointed to his glass of ice water, and must have made a crack about where Holly had spilled it the last time she’d served him, because she blushed.
Blushed. Looking nothing like the sophisticate she had only two weeks ago, Riley couldn’t tear his eyes off her. “I’ve gotta go,” he said to Jud, who merely lifted an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.
“Of course you do, son.”
RILEY CORNERED HER in the storage room, where she’d gone to get more napkins.
“Riley?” she gasped in surprise when he slammed the door behind them, pressed her back against a shelving unit and slid his hands into her hair.
“What are you doing?”
“This.” He took her mouth with his. He had to. And it was no gentle, hey-how-are-you-today kiss. It was a hot, fiery mark of possession, which might have given him pause, if he could think.
“Wait.” She tore away after a long, breathless, soul-searching connection. “Wait just a minute.”