by Alison Bliss
“That’s all right, Max. Like I told you yesterday, you win some and you lose some. Sometimes things are just meant to be.”
Max shook his head furiously. “No, it’s not all right. And I don’t believe that. If you want something bad enough, you have to make it happen. Like I did with losing weight. I worked for that goal. I didn’t wait around to see if the pounds would disappear on their own. Because otherwise they wouldn’t have.”
“True,” Pops said, rubbing at his chin. “But when you moved here, do you remember what you said to me the first day I met you?”
Max nodded. “Yeah. I said that it was a good thing I met you when I did because I was really struggling with maintaining my weight loss.”
“Exactly. Almost like us meeting in that exact moment was meant to be, right?”
Damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Okay, so I get what you’re saying. But I don’t think that applies to every situation. I refuse to believe that you’re meant to lose your business all because some newcomer rolls into town and steals your customers. Where’s the fairness in that?”
Pops shrugged. “Life isn’t always fair.”
“Yeah, you can say that again.”
“It’s fine, Max. It’s just a restaurant. Not the end of the world. We’ll take it one day at a time and hope that something good comes out of it all. In the meantime, I’ll keep doing what I do best, which is feeding you guys lunch.” Without another word, he headed for the kitchen.
While Max waited patiently for Pops to return, the quietness of the surrounding room began to bother him. Truthfully, the whole situation weighed heavily on his mind. He’d barely slept a wink knowing Pops’ business was in danger of closing the doors by the end of the month. That was only three weeks away.
His eyes surveyed the silent room, taking in all the open space. He’d never seen the Empty Plate Café so dead before—unless you counted yesterday, of course—and hated to think that he wouldn’t be able to get another hot meal here once the month was over. Damn it. This wasn’t just a restaurant to him. It was more like a second home. A place where he fit in with everyone else, which was something he hadn’t always had in his life.
And Pops? God. Max hated the thought of the man he’d come to admire so much possibly losing his only source of income. Pops didn’t have any kids or other family to help him out, and his wife had died several years before. The old man couldn’t lose his business too. Without the restaurant, how would he be able to support himself?
Pops finally came back with a couple of to-go boxes in hand. “I’ll put these on your tab, son.”
Max rose from his chair, accepting the boxes from him. “Are you sure? If you need the extra cash on hand, I can pay up what I owe you now.”
“Nah, that’s okay. You always pay at the end of the month because I won’t be writing any checks to my vendors until then anyway. You’re good to go.” He smiled at Max and tapped his finger on the to-go boxes. “By the way, your special today is a veggie burger and baked sweet potato fries. It’s on the bottom, but I also wrote your name on the box in case you get them mixed up.”
“Thanks, Pops. I appreciate you always looking out for me.”
“It’s been my pleasure, Max. You needed support, and I’m glad that I could’ve been the one to provide it. I’m proud of how far you have come and how determined you are to keep yourself there. I’ll help you any way I can. You know that.”
Max nodded. “I do. And I’ll never forget it.”
“You better get going so you can get that burger to Sam before it gets cold. Or he’s going to think I did that on purpose.”
They both grinned.
“See ya tomorrow, Pops.” Max headed out the door and straight to his truck.
But after he climbed inside and set the to-go boxes on the seat next to him, he stared across the street at the long line of customers. He couldn’t see the food truck past the flowering oleander bushes blocking his view, but he had no doubt it was there. And still ruining any chance Pops had at keeping his restaurant open. Poor guy.
He didn’t deserve to be treated this way. The kind old man had always been willing to lend a friendly ear, share his wisdom, or help someone out. Hell, he’d even call someone out on their bullshit, if necessary. And over the years it had been necessary with Max plenty of times.
Truthfully, Pops had been practically like a second father to him. Max was not someone who liked being vulnerable in front of others. It only made him feel like that chubby kid getting picked on at school all over again. But with Pops, he could always talk openly about his insecurities and his fixation with food. He’d always been way too embarrassed to admit that to anyone else. Even his best friend Sam.
Max sighed in frustration. If the Empty Plate Café closed its doors, he was going to go right back to struggling with his weight again. He just knew it. And what would become of Pops?
Disgusted with the whole rotten situation, Max thought long and hard about it before finally coming to a conclusion. He didn’t at all feel good about lying to Jessa, but maybe it was the lesser of two evils. Because no matter what, he couldn’t stand by and watch an old man—especially one who had always taken care of him—lose his only source of income. Not when he knew there was something he could do to help.
If that meant Max had to keep pretending to be the health inspector to force Jessa to leave, then so be it. That was exactly what he was going to do. The moment he got off work today, he was going to have to pay the lovely Miss Gibson another visit.
Because like it or not, he owed it to Pops to see this through.
* * *
By returning to the scene of the crime, Max knew he was pushing his luck and could possibly be found out. He was impersonating a city official, for Christ’s sake. Surely there had to be some kind of law that he was breaking. Probably several.
But he refused to turn back now.
Max chuckled as he remembered the look on her face yesterday when he’d told her that she couldn’t wear her precious pink gloves anymore. Maybe it wasn’t a nice thing to do at the time, but the bewildered expression she wore had kept him in a good mood and smiling the rest of the evening.
As he got closer to the park, he spotted her food truck parked in a different spot than before. Stupid him. Yesterday, he had thought it would be as simple as giving her a good old-fashioned ribbing in order to get her to leave. But he had apparently underestimated this woman’s determination to keep her truck in Windsor Park. Didn’t matter though. All of that would soon be changing, if he had anything to say about it.
It was unfortunate though. The frustratingly agreeable woman he’d met yesterday seemed to have a need to please. That wasn’t the type of woman Max usually went for, but he hated the idea that he would never get the chance to get to know her better. As far as he was concerned, that was a tragic loss on his part.
As Max strolled down the sidewalk toward the food truck, an amused grin stretched his lips wider. He could only imagine her reaction when he showed up so soon to see if she’d corrected those fake violations he’d cited to her yesterday.
Of course he knew she hadn’t. There hadn’t been enough time. But watching such a charming, innocent-looking woman like Jessa lose her cool was going to be the highlight of his day. Or it should’ve been.
His feet stalled on the pavement, and he was suddenly seeing red. Lots of it. Every picnic bench in the vicinity of her truck had been draped with a red plastic tablecloth. And if that wasn’t enough, there were two brand-new trash cans sitting off to one side.
Damn it. How in the hell had she accomplished that so fast?
The musical sound of laughter drifted through the air, and he turned his attention onto the food truck, noting a small line at the pick-up window that seemed to be moving fairly quickly. Well, if you could even consider two people a “line.”
He had purposely waited to show up at her truck until the end of the day. Not only because he’d started back to work on the construc
tion site today and had a lot to catch up on, but he also didn’t want to have another run-in with one of his buddies from Sam’s crew. If Jim had come over to talk to him yesterday in front of Jessa, things would’ve been a lot more awkward than they already were.
Max leaned against a nearby mesquite tree and crossed one booted ankle over the other. From his position she couldn’t see him, but he had a damn good view of her. She flitted gracefully around the tiny kitchen on wheels, cooking and preparing her customers’ meals to order under a bright fluorescent light. And though Max wasn’t a great cook himself, he didn’t at all mind watching her do it.
Maybe a little insight into the enemy was just what he needed to give him the edge and drive her out of there for good. Couldn’t hurt, right? If only he could figure out what made this woman tick, he might have a better chance of getting her to leave.
Unlike yesterday, Jessa seemed to be the only one working, and it looked like she was about ready to call it a day. Good. He didn’t want or need an audience for what he was about to do. He was already feeling guilty enough.
He waited patiently until the last person received their order and left with their food. Once it was all clear, he made his way over to the food truck and rapped on the entry door at the back of the truck with his knuckles. She opened it within seconds.
After their first unpleasant encounter, he was surprised to see her greet him with a smile. Granted, her curved lips did seem a little stiff and possibly a bit forced, but he couldn’t really blame her for that. She hadn’t been expecting him, and it probably wasn’t fun to receive a spontaneous visit from a man who could shut down your livelihood without thinking twice about it. Well, if Max had actually been the inspector.
“Um, hi,” she said, her voice just as sweet as ever.
“Hey, Jess. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by unannounced.” Not that I gave you much of a choice since I’m already here.
“No, of course not.”
“Good. I thought I’d check and see if you made any progress on those corrections I mentioned to you yesterday.”
Her words came out friendly, but they didn’t match the scowl on her face. “Well, yeah. I mean I bought a couple of extra trash cans and purchased tablecloths for each of the picnic tables.” She motioned to them. “I assume those are to your satisfaction.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “They seem to be.”
“Great,” she said, removing a pair of clear disposable gloves from her hands. “Well, as you can see, I bought new gloves too. And just for your peace of mind, I also left off the…bug spray. So you don’t have to worry about that one either.” One brow rose.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that,” Max said, stifling a chuckle.
He probably should’ve felt worse than he did for saying that to her yesterday, but after the way his comment had made her laugh, he couldn’t muster up the energy. He had liked hearing that surprised, rapid-fire laughter of hers. It was nice.
Jessa shook her head. “It’s fine. I didn’t like that perfume all that much anyway.”
“Well, then I guess that leaves us with one last thing to check,” Max said, whipping out the tape measure he’d clipped onto his hip before he’d gotten out of his truck.
Her mouth fell open, but she stood there quietly as he stepped over to her back tire and measured the distance from the tire to the curb. Sonofabitch. It was exactly ten and three-quarter inches. He glanced up long enough to judge the distance from the truck to the electrical box with his eyes. Yeah, without even measuring it, he knew she’d aced that one too. What the hell?
Not only had Jessa met all of the idiotic standards he’d given her yesterday, the frustrating woman had exceeded them. Damn it. He was impressed, but he didn’t want to be. Now what the hell was he going to do to get rid of her?
“All good?” she asked, pride blooming on her face.
Max straightened and gave her a terse nod. “With this part of the inspection, yes.” Then he wiped that smug little grin off her face by saying, “But I thought I’d do a walk-through of your truck while I’m here and make sure everything in the kitchen is in order.”
Worry flashed in her eyes, and she picked at her fingernails. “Actually, I’m closed. I just served my last meal and was about to head out.”
“I see,” Max said, thinking fast. He couldn’t let her get out of it. Not if he was going to get her to leave for good. “Then I guess I’ll just come back tomorrow during the lunch rush and do it then. Have a great night.” He turned to walk away while grinning to himself and doing a silent countdown in his head.
Three…two…one.
“Uh, Max?”
Yep. Called it. He stopped in place, wiped the smile off his face, and glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
She stood there with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at him. “It’s fine. Why don’t we just go ahead and do it now? I mean, you’re already here so there’s no point in you coming back tomorrow.”
Max shrugged. “Sure. Totally up to you.”
She sighed but then smiled lightly as she pushed the food truck door open wider to allow him entry. It was exactly what he wanted, but it irritated him that she hadn’t looked more forlorn about being forced to invite him in. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to deal with him again, but she was still biting her tongue. She’d done the same thing yesterday. What the hell does it take to set this woman off? A fucking bomb?
Then he remembered yesterday how her hand trembled in his and how flustered she was when he’d touched her. It was entirely possible that there was a legitimate reason for her reaction, but usually that kind of a response meant something.
Maybe he wasn’t on the right track. But it was at least a theory. A damned good one, if you asked him. One he wouldn’t mind experimenting with. Not because he wanted to get her into bed…though the thought had crossed his mind. He definitely wouldn’t mind seeing the sweet little Jessa come undone while lying beneath him. But right now what he needed more than that was to know if she was as attracted to him as he thought she might be. That way, he could possibly use it to his advantage.
Wait, what? Fuck.
Had he really just become one of those guys who thought shit like that? Jesus. I should be publicly shamed and forced to turn in my man card.
Max shook his head in utter disgust. When it came to women, he’d always thought of himself as more of the protector type. Heaven forbid some abusive idiot dare lay a hand on a woman in Max’s presence. Because that dead-man-walking wouldn’t be walking for much longer. Or breathing.
It wasn’t just that though. Even the nonviolent mistreatment of women pissed Max off. Whether it was a man neglecting his woman, cheating on her, or just flat-out lying to her…which totally made Max feel like the hypocrite he apparently was.
Too late now. I’m already in too deep.
“Max?”
Jessa’s words broke through his trancelike state, and he glanced over at her. “Yeah?”
“Don’t you want to look around inside?”
Max hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was sink to a new level of low, but he’d already lied to her about who he was anyway. Besides, if she was attracted to him, maybe flirting with her would fluster her enough to slip up and give him something he could actually use against her. Like a problem with the truck.
Even if she wasn’t attracted to him though, the flirting would, at the very least, make things awkward and uncomfortable between them, which might still send her packing. She probably wouldn’t want to stay in a town where she thinks the health inspector has it out for her because she turned down his advances.
God, he hated this. But he needed to do something to get her to leave. Unfortunately, nothing else had worked.
“Yeah. I’m coming.” He stepped up into the doorway of the truck but paused and stared down at her before going farther inside. The narrow passageway inside the truck was the perfect opportunity for him to make his move. But could he really do it?
Thank God I never claimed to be a saint. He put one firm hand on her shapely waist and said, “Excuse me.” Then he brushed slowly past her, making sure every inch of his hard body slid firmly against her soft, lush curves.
Her spine stiffened immediately, and the quick intake of her breath sounded in his ears. But as he maneuvered past her into the middle of the small, narrow kitchen, it was his own body’s reaction that alarmed him the most. An instant hard-on formed beneath his jeans while his blood pressure spiked so high that his ears rang.
She fumbled to close the door and turned to face him, her cheeks a bright shade of pink. She reached past him to toss her gloves into the trash behind him, but her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Sorry it’s so…um, warm in here. I only turned the grill off a few minutes ago. It’s going to be a while before I…I mean it cools down.”
Max nodded and shifted uncomfortably from the bulge in his pants. “Not a problem.” As an electrician, he often worked in the heat as well as tight spaces. He was used to it. But after rubbing himself against her like that, it was suddenly a hell of a lot warmer in the truck than he thought possible.
She reached for some utensils on the table. “Let me just put these away and we can get it on…I mean get on with it.” She winced as she spun away from him with lightning speed.
It was cute how she was trying to appear unaffected by him and even more adorable that she was failing so miserably at it. So the short, sweet redhead with the amenable personality had the hots for him, huh? Well, this made his fake-ass job way more intriguing. And had his pants feeling even tighter in the groin area than they already were.
Too bad he couldn’t act on it for real though.
Not that Jessa was his type or anything. Max wanted a woman who breathed fire and passion. One who would take an intimate walk on the wild side and had no problem letting down her hair. A partner with plenty of confidence who could hold her own, in and out of the bedroom.