The Heavenly Bites Novella Collection

by Christine S. Feldman

  He frowned and even looked taken aback that she might have forgotten him. “Dane.”

  “Right, sorry,” Nadia said, flashing him a quick smile more out of habit than anything else. “Nice to see you.” She glanced just as quickly away again as the music switched back to a livelier salsa tune. Her eyes found their way back to the dance floor and Benji just in time to see him flash Karina a half-smile. A response to a joke—or was he flirting?

  And why did she care?

  Before Nadia could examine her dismay too closely, Dane leaned in a little nearer in a way that gave Nadia no polite choice except to look at him. “So,” he continued, smiling once more in a way that Nadia had to admit was rather dazzling, “did you lose my number or something?”

  Not consciously, she hadn’t, but she couldn’t honestly remember where she’d put it now. “Busy week. You know how the holidays get,” she returned, finding it harder than usual to muster anything remotely resembling vivaciousness. He was standing a little close for her liking actually, which made no sense to her since she was sure he’d stood every bit as close to her last week when she’d met him, and it had merely seemed like a natural part of their flirtation then. Tonight it just struck her as presumptuous.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he agreed, although he didn’t look completely satisfied with her answer. “Have to come up for air sometime, though. How’s next week looking?”

  Next week? That suddenly seemed very far away, and all she could think was that going out next week held very little appeal for her. “Probably pretty busy then, too,” she said finally, thinking it the gentlest way to turn him down.

  He blinked at her in obvious bewilderment, which was no wonder considering the way the women nearest to them were eyeing him with interest. “Oh. Well, how about a dance, then? You’ve got room in your schedule for that, right?” He grinned again, although this time it seemed slightly forced.

  The thought of dancing with him left her lukewarm at best, but after having just shot down his attempt to wrangle a date with her, she supposed a dance would be a harmless enough way to offer an olive branch, socially speaking. Or maybe her conscience was overcompensating after what had happened with Benji a few minutes ago.

  In any case, she thought, casting another furtive glance in Benji’s direction, a little distraction right now couldn’t hurt.

  “Sure,” she agreed. “Let’s dance.”

  Dane tried to wrap his arm around her waist to lead her out onto the dance floor, but Nadia smoothly slipped free and took his hand instead. As they faced each other, she braced her hand on his shoulder in such a way as to maintain a little space between their torsos, which—judging by the flicker of annoyance in his eyes—had not been part of his original plan.

  Plans change, Nadia thought coolly, giving him an even look, and then he gave up and began to lead her in the dance.

  Her eyes found Benji by accident, and it might have been her imagination, but he seemed to be relaxing the more he danced with Karina. That was good, Nadia thought, trying to feel sincere and uncomfortably aware that she was failing.

  Then Dane turned her, and she lost sight of Benji in the crowd.

  Forget everything and just dance already. She forced her attention back to her partner. He was a very attractive man, after all, the kind who caught the eye of every woman he walked past, including—last week—Nadia. He moved well to the music, too, and there was absolutely no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy a dance with him. No reason at all.

  And yet she wasn’t.

  Even Dane seemed to realize she was just going through the motions on the dance floor, despite her efforts to make it seem otherwise, because he ratcheted up the moves in which he led her to the point where the couples nearest to them hooted their approval and admiration. And then he turned on the charm. Well, what he seemed to think was charm anyway.

  “Baby, the way you move is my every fantasy come true, you know that?” he said, barely audible above the music, and he grinned at her. “And that dress…” He gave a low whistle and shook his free hand as if he’d just singed it on her. “But you’d probably look hot in anything.”

  The lines he threw at her, all too familiar after years of dating overly confident men like him, seemed suddenly flat to Nadia’s ears. Instead of laughing or tossing something similar back as she might normally have done, she found herself wincing inwardly. And for a moment, she wondered if she ought to pretend to twist her ankle just so she could find an excuse to end the dance.

  But while she debated whether or not to give in to that urge, Nadia was abruptly caught off guard as Dane managed to circumvent her hold on his shoulder and pull her closer—too close, really.

  He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I bet you’d look hot out of it, too.”

  Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me… “You know what?” Nadia said abruptly, tiring of this particular exchange and shoving him a few inches back from her. “I think we’re done here. I’m going to sit the rest of this one out.”

  “What?” Dane protested, laughing. “Come on, loosen up a little.”

  “You’re loose enough for both of us,” she returned. “And I’m not interested.”

  “Not interested?” he repeated, his laughter fading and irritation crossing his face. “What are you talking about? You were plenty interested last week.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” She turned to leave the dance floor, and Dane caught her by the arm.

  “Hey,” he said, and his irritation appeared to grow. “You playing games with me or something? Ready to go one minute, turn into an ice princess the next?”

  “Take your hand off my arm,” she said coolly.

  “You aren’t seriously walking away from me here? Because I—”

  Out of nowhere, Benji’s voice interrupted him. “Hey, I think she asked you to let go of her arm.”

  Both Nadia and Dane did a double take as they turned to see Benji standing behind Dane, a frown on his face and a tautness to his jaw that Nadia would never have believed him capable of producing. His eyes seemed particularly bright as they stared at Dane, bright and unblinking. Karina hovered nervously behind him, the only person to do so, because the nearest dancers moved a wary step or two back as they caught sight of the expression on Dane’s face.

  Benji surely must have noticed it, too, close as he was to the other man—the other and most definitely bigger man. But the only reaction Nadia saw Benji make was a slight twitch to his eyelid.

  Dear God, she’d brought him here only to get him killed, Nadia thought, dismayed. Some dating coach she was. She saw Dane’s muscles tense, and she hastened to step between the two men. “It’s okay, Benji,” she told him, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m fine.”

  “He’s bothering you,” Benji corrected her, his eyes never leaving Dane.

  “I can handle him, believe me.”

  “Yeah, listen to her, Benji,” Dane said with obvious disdain, and his expression turned into a leer that he directed at Nadia. “The lady can handle me all she wants.”

  Oh, please, Nadia thought wearily with an inward eye roll just as Benji frowned more deeply and started to open his mouth again. She tugged on his arm in an attempt to get him to leave the dance floor with her, and he finally turned away from Dane to look at her. “Let it go,” she urged. “Let’s just go sit down and have a drink.”

  Benji looked dissatisfied. “But—”

  “Hey, Benji?” came Dane’s voice, and just as Benji turned his head to look back at the other man, Dane’s fist smashed into Benji’s face, snapping his head back and sending him staggering back and onto the floor. Dancers gasped and hastily cleared the floor, and when Benji brought his hands away from his face, there was blood streaming from his nose.

  Dane smirked down at Benji, who sat up looking more startled than anything else as he wiped blood away. He started to get to his feet.

  Dane’s smirk grew bigger, and he reformed his fist.

  Something inside Nadia snapp
ed, and she was gratified to note that Dane’s smug expression disappeared right about the time her fist connected with his jaw.

  * * *

  “More ice?” Nadia asked Benji as she walked back into her living room with a fresh ice pack.

  “Thanks,” he said from where he lay on her couch with a half-melted bag of ice on his face. He swapped it for the one she held out to him, and she set the old one in a bowl on her coffee table.

  She cringed inwardly at the sight of his swollen nose and cut lip. Considering that his nose seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact, he was lucky it hadn’t been broken. His glasses hadn’t been quite so lucky, and now they sat on her coffee table with one lens cracked. “How’s your nose?”

  “Better. How’s your hand?”

  Nadia flexed her fingers and grimaced, although she couldn’t really bring herself to regret taking a swing at Dane. “I’d swear that guy’s chin is made of rock.”

  Benji made a sound that might have been a chuckle, although it came out slightly muffled from underneath the ice pack. “Nice form, by the way. Although I like to think I softened him up for you when I hit his fist with my face.”

  His words made her smile, but only for a moment, and then she sank down onto the edge of the couch beside him. “Oh, Benji, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this happened.”

  “You mean you’ve never punched a guy on the dance floor before?”

  “Clubs can get interesting sometimes, but no, that was a first.”

  “Hey, technically you only said I wouldn’t die from salsa dancing. I don’t believe any such guarantees were made about getting my face tenderized by a seven-foot tall block of granite, so I blame myself.”

  Nadia was silent, flooded with guilt.

  Her silence seemed to alarm him, because Benji quickly removed the ice pack from his face to squint at her with concern. “That was supposed to be a joke, but I guess it was a bad one. Sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? You were such a good sport about going tonight, and then you stood up for me with that nimrod and wound up getting flattened for the trouble, and you’re sorry?”

  “Well,” he said slowly as he played with the ice pack in his hands, and his lips twitched. “I’m sorry that I didn’t duck.”

  She gave him a look that was tinged with both disbelief and affection, and the affection only grew stronger when the twitch of his lips turned into what could only be described as a cheeky sort of grin.

  But then he winced almost immediately. “Ow.”

  “Your lip is bleeding again. Hang on, I’ll get a tissue.” Nadia hurried to grab one from the bathroom and returned to sit beside Benji again and dab gently at his injured lip. He grew still and closed his eyes as she did it. “The bruising’s going to get worse before it gets better. You’re going to look lovely in the morning,” she observed after a minute.

  “Won’t I, though? My co-workers are going to be so impressed. I think I’ll tell them I’m in a fight club.”

  “Think they’ll buy it?”

  “Maybe not, but it sounds better than ‘you should see the other guy after my date beat him up’.”

  My date. The words jumped out at her. Either Benji didn’t realize what he’d said, or he meant the words far more innocently that Nadia generally did. A date could still be perfectly platonic, she supposed, but—

  What was she, a sixteen-year-old? She was analyzing his speech like an anxious teenager, searching for clues about his feelings, which—quite frankly—she couldn’t remember having done since she really was sixteen.

  Then she caught herself noticing the shape of his mouth as she applied gentle pressure to his bleeding lip with the tissue, and she was even more flustered.

  The entire evening had left her feeling out of sorts, although maybe part of that was simply a natural result when an evening ended with a fistfight. She felt a pang as she thought of the moment Dane had struck Benji. As mixed-up as she seemed to be at the moment, she was certain of one thing she needed to say.

  Benji opened his eyes then, and Nadia took her hand away from his lip.

  “Benji,” she said softly.

  “Yes?”

  “What you did tonight, that was very sweet. Thank you.”

  “Didn’t quite have the glorious ending a guy might hope for, but—“

  “It was sweet,” she repeated.

  He was silent.

  Nadia started to say something more when she caught sight of the white edge of something poking out at the top of Benji’s shirt pocket. “You’ve got a napkin from the club in your pocket,” she said, recognizing the Luna Bailando logo on it, and she attempted a joke to lighten the mood. “Commemorative souvenir?”

  “Huh? Oh, that.” Benji removed it from his pocket and unfolded it. “Your friend Karina stuck that in there right as we were leaving.” He examined it with surprise, squinting again. “Looks like her phone number.”

  Oh. That sour taste from earlier was back in Nadia’s mouth.

  Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Benji shook his head. “Since when does getting your lights punched out make you more attractive to women?”

  “When it happens because you were being gallant,” Nadia answered, trying not to sound as dismayed as she suddenly felt. Of course Karina would give him her number; why wouldn’t she? And of course Benji would be flattered by it. Maybe even excited.

  “If I’d have known that, I’d have tried to get hit in the face sooner.” Then Benji touched his nose and winced. “No. No, I probably wouldn’t. Never mind.”

  Crumpling up the bloody tissue in her hand, Nadia stood up. “So, are you going to call her?” She stepped into the kitchen to dispose of the tissue and to hide from Benji what was no doubt a troubled expression on her face.

  “Do you think I should?” His voice was unusually quiet.

  And suddenly Nadia, who was never at a loss for words, couldn’t seem to think of anything to say in response, especially when she felt that odd panic from earlier threatening to return. “Well…”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s the whole reason we went, wasn’t it?” she said finally, not quite answering his question. “To help you meet somebody?” Maybe not quite so soon, though, she thought and then berated herself.

  “I suppose,” he agreed flatly.

  “Then I guess that’s your answer, isn’t it?” she said, returning to the living room and sitting down in a chair instead of on the couch beside him. She smiled a smile that was probably a little too bright and didn’t quite look him in the eyes. “Benji Garner. I told you that you were a player.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted slightly before he winced again, and he folded up the napkin before returning it to his pocket. Then he reached for his fractured glasses and stood up. “I should probably get going.”

  Nadia rose, too, loathe to discuss Karina anymore but reluctant to see Benji go. “Are you okay to drive? Your glasses—”

  “I can still see well enough,” he said, peering through them and then putting them on. “Well enough to get me home, at least. Then I’ll swap them out for another pair.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Benji nodded and reached for his coat. “Thanks for the ice.”

  Nadia followed him to the door, absolutely positive she ought to say something more to him but completely at a loss as to what exactly it should be. “I’m sorry about tonight,” she said finally, feeling the words inadequate even as she said them.

  “Don’t be. It was fun up until it turned into an episode of Jerry Springer’s show.”

  This time Nadia’s smile was more genuine. “Yes, it was.” Then her eyes settled on the edge of the napkin sticking up from Benji’s pocket, and her smile faded.

  Opening the door to leave, Benji hesitated for a moment, and then he appeared to think better of whatever he was going to say. “Good night,” he offered, smiling a half-smile that seemed designed to spare his injured lip any more discomfort.

  “Good night,”
Nadia echoed without her usual energy, and she watched him go with her heart feeling a little heavier than it had before.

  Chapter Nine

  Nadia had the later shift the next day, so when she walked into the bakery, Trish already had the store open for business and was in the middle of explaining to Aimee the difference between delightfully golden brown and just plain burnt.

  Putting her purse away and tying on an apron, Nadia stopped directly in front of the other two women.

  They both looked up.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Nadia asked bluntly.

  “Oh, so many things,” Trish answered cheerfully. “Why?”

  “I’m serious, Trish. I think I really screwed up.” Nadia slumped back against the kitchen wall. “I thought I was an expert on men and dating. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “You are serious, aren’t you? Should we have chocolate on hand for this?”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Trish turned to their new hire. “Aimee—”

  “I’m on it,” the younger woman said, and she disappeared into the front of the bakery only to reappear a minute later with an entire tray of double chocolate fudge brownies from out of the display case.

  “That might be overkill,” Trish said, looking at Aimee askance.

  “Hey, you never know. She looks pretty depressed to me,” Aimee returned, setting down the tray and holding out a brownie to Nadia.

  “Thanks,” said Nadia, and then winced as she took the proffered brownie in her sore hand. She’d iced it again this morning, but it was still hurting. She switched the brownie to her left hand instead.

  Trish noticed. “Hey, is it my imagination, or are you babying your right hand?” She bent to get a closer look. “What happened?”

  “I punched a guy in the jaw last night.”

  “You did what?” her friend exclaimed, straightening.

  “Did you remember to tuck your thumb?” Aimee asked before Nadia could respond, demonstrating with her own fist. “Like this, see?”

  “Not important right now, Aimee,” Trish told her, frowning. “Who was the guy? It wasn’t Benji, was it?”