by Alison Bliss
But she didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. There was something about Max that spoke to her, that made him absolutely irresistible. Sure, he was handsome and nice to look at. But that wasn’t it. There was more to him than that. He reminded her of a dormant volcano. Calm and poised on the surface, but all this heat and passion bubbling inside of him. And that intrigued the hell out of her.
Whatever. She couldn’t stand around trying to figure Max out all day. She needed to hurry and put everything away if she was going to make it to the park on time to open for the Saturday lunch crowd. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her customers.
Jessa pivoted toward the stacked boxes and reached into the top one to grab an onion. But when she pulled her hand back, she froze in place.
In her hand was a big, juicy grapefruit.
She knew she hadn’t ordered any and briefly considered that she’d picked up the wrong box from one of the vendors. But then she remembered dropping this particular box on the ground and gathering everything that had fallen out of it. There had been no grapefruit in it at the time. Only peppers and onions.
She lifted onto her tiptoes and peered into the box. The peppers and onions were still inside, but several more grapefruit perched on top of them. Probably close to half a bag. She glanced back at the door where Max had stood moments before and blinked in shock.
He shared his grapefruit with me?
She hadn’t expected the sweet gesture and thought it was very considerate of him. Especially since it wasn’t like it was readily available to him. He’d already told her that he couldn’t get more of it without traveling down to the Texas valley, which, by his own admission, was too far for him to drive for a bag of fruit.
Damn it. Why did he have to go and do something so nice?
Jessa rolled the ruby red ball around in her palm. Why had he left without mentioning it? Most people would’ve wanted some sort of recognition for their good deed. Or at the very least a proper thank-you. Strangely, Max had denied himself both.
* * *
Max breathed a sigh of relief as Jessa waved good-bye to her last customer of the evening. The two women had stood there chatting about who knows what for the last twenty minutes while he’d waited in the shadows for the customer to leave. Once the woman’s car pulled away from the curb, Max stepped out onto the sidewalk and strolled toward the Gypsy Cantina.
He felt like a stalker. Probably looked like one too.
It hadn’t really been all that dark out when he’d first arrived. But while he’d waited for his chance to approach the food truck without anyone recognizing him, the ominous curtain of darkness had fallen fast around him. He wasn’t complaining though. That had only made it easier to see what Jessa had been doing inside the lit-up truck.
Max wasn’t sure how many hours she’d put in during the past week, but it had to be a lot. She was always there from early in the morning until late into the evening. And she hadn’t taken a single day off either. He should know. He’d been watching her every move. Okay, maybe that did qualify me as a stalker, after all.
Jessa would probably think so too after he’d run into her at the farmers’ market yesterday. Max was still kicking himself for that one. He couldn’t believe that he had actually helped her carry her produce to the truck and then left grapefruit for her. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to get rid of her by doing shit like that.
And that’s exactly why he hadn’t stopped by her truck last night. After their accidental run-in, it was clear that he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do what needed to be done. Which was to force her into leaving town. So instead he’d gone to the gym and spent two hours working out. In the past, that had always helped to clear his mind. And lately, his mind had needed a lot of clearing.
Max stopped just outside the truck. Through the window, Max had a side view of Jessa leaning over the grill, her arms working back and forth as she gave it a good scrubbing. Her wavy, red locks bounced around in the ponytail on the back of her head, and a slight sheen of perspiration shone on her forehead.
Focused completely on the task at hand, Jessa didn’t even notice him standing there. As if she were deep in thought, her teeth chewed relentlessly on her bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth before biting down on it. Max grinned. He’d give anything to have a little nibble of those beautiful, ripe lips himself. Because if the woman tasted as good as she looked, then he would be in…
Ah, hell. Trouble. He’d be in a whole lot of trouble, that’s what.
Maybe he already was.
Jessa had clearly caught him unawares. Like she had somehow slipped through his defenses, and he couldn’t seem to shake her. No wonder why he’d been acting like such a confused idiot whenever she was around. She was what was wrong with him. The woman was pretty, kind, and hardworking. With traits like that, it made it impossible to view her as the enemy.
Not that he wanted to be mean to her. Of course he didn’t. But he only had two weeks left before the end of the month, and he really needed to get her out of there before then. Unfortunately, the thought of doing so felt a lot like taking a hard fist to the gut. How the hell do you make someone leave when you don’t really want them to go?
There were so many things about her that drew him in as well as surprised him. Like her great attitude, quick laughter, unrelenting patience, and ambitious nature. No wonder why he was so damn attracted to her. Jessa had everything he looked for in a woman.
God. Why the fuck did she have to be a good person?
“Max?”
He jolted, surprised by the sound of her voice. “Uh, hi.”
“Why are you standing out there like that?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m just…checking out your awning.”
Panic flashed in her eyes. “Uh-oh. Did I violate another code?” she asked, her tone strained with worry. “If I did, I’m sorry. Let me know what’s wrong with it, and I’ll go buy a new awning first thing in the morning.”
Well, that made him feel like a dick. Why hadn’t he said he was checking out the stars or something? At least then she wouldn’t be worrying that she’d violated another one of his fake codes.
He leaned against the truck with his arm on the ordering window’s counter. “No, Jess. That wasn’t what I meant. It’s a great awning. No need to replace anything.”
She exhaled a slow breath. “Thank goodness. I’m really trying to watch what I’m spending this week to keep from going over my budget.”
Oh man. Was she having money problems like Pops? God, he hoped not. Especially after he’d bullied her into buying tablecloths and extra trash cans that she hadn’t technically needed to purchase. He hadn’t even considered her financial situation at the time. But then he noticed the tip jar in the window next to him. It was stuffed full of coins and dollar bills, and there were even some fives and tens in there.
Surely she wasn’t having money issues if she made that much in tips during only one shift. Relief spread through him, and he sighed. Thank God. He didn’t want her to go broke. He just wanted her to go.
Well, actually he didn’t really want that either. But he couldn’t see any other way around it. If she stayed, she would continue taking Pops’ customers. So there was no other choice. She had to leave. Didn’t she?
Damn it, the whole situation was really starting to confuse him. It was as if her mere presence had thrown him once again. Why did this have to be so difficult?
A soft hand slid onto his arm, snaring his attention. “By the way, Max, I wanted to thank you for the grapefruit. That was very sweet of you.”
His eyes met hers, and his stomach knotted. Her touching his forearm wasn’t blatantly sexual or anything. Rather more of a friendly gesture. But somehow it seemed more intimate coming from her than it did with other women. In fact, every time Jessa’s smooth, silky skin brushed against his in any way, an overwhelming urge to bury himself in that soft body of hers spiraled through him.
; He cleared his throat to keep from sounding like a teenage boy going through puberty. “You’re welcome.”
She smiled and turned away as she gathered up all of her dirty kitchen utensils and set them inside a small gray tub inside the sink. “You didn’t have to leave any grapefruit for me. I feel bad that you shared something that was meant as a gift for you.”
Max shrugged, though she didn’t see it with her back turned to him. “It’s fine,” he said, brushing off his good deed. It was just grapefruit. No big deal. “I probably wouldn’t have eaten all of them before they spoiled anyway.” Besides, he didn’t deserve any praise after he’d spent the past week lying to her face. The only thing he deserved was a swift kick in his ass for doing so to begin with. Hell, she’d probably never speak to him again if she found out the truth.
“Well, I just wanted you to know I appreciated the gesture. I was so excited to try one that I didn’t even wait until I got to work. I ate it while I was still in the parking lot of the farmers’ market.”
Max grinned. “What’d you think?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him and grinned. “It was as juicy and delicious as I thought it would be. A little bitter, of course, but it had a nice hint of sweetness. The rind was flawless, and the red pulp looked picture perfect. I’m pretty sure that was the best grapefruit I’ve ever eaten.”
Something squeezed inside his chest. Not only did he like knowing that he could make her smile, but he could almost hear the passion for food and genuine excitement in the tone of her voice. Even if it was over something as small as a grapefruit. “I’m glad you liked it, Jess.”
“I really did. In fact, I’m going to have to figure out a way of getting more so I can put it in something on my menu. I was thinking maybe a grapefruit and avocado salad or something.”
Max cocked his head. Hmm. That actually sounded pretty good. He’d just been juicing the fruit or eating them for breakfast in the mornings. He never considered putting the wedges in a salad with some avocado. It was a great idea and definitely something he wanted to try. “You know, Miss Betty’s son is a truck driver, and he takes scheduled trips down to the valley every few weeks to drop off some of her produce at a market down there. If you’d like, I can ask her for his phone number. He would probably be willing to pick them up for you whenever he’s heading back down. I never wanted to trouble him to stop for just one bag, but if you plan on getting more than that, I’m sure he would be interested in cutting a deal with you.”
“Really?” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned to face him. “That would be amazing, Max. I guess I owe you another thank-you.”
He shook his head. “It isn’t necessary.”
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s always necessary to show your appreciation to someone who does something nice for you. So thank you.”
Nodding, Max said, “It’s not a problem.”
Which wasn’t really true. It was a huge problem. Why the hell was he helping her again? This was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be doing. Damn it. Instead of running her out of town, he was treating her like an invited guest. What was he going to do next—fluff a pillow for her and then prop her feet up? Jeez.
Somehow he’d gotten way off track with this plan. He needed to remember what he was doing this for. Or actually who he was doing this for. Pops. The old man had nothing left but his café. If he lost it now, it would be all Max’s fault. All because he was sweet on Jessa and couldn’t stop doing nice things for her. God, he was such a moron.
This was why each visit to her truck had become more nerve-racking than the last. Every time he got anywhere near her, he started doing stupid shit. That was the kind of effect she had on him. Well, among others. He’d never in his life spent so much time in the shower jacking himself off as he had in the last week.
Unless, of course, you count the time in tenth grade when Celia Rogers had squished her ample breasts against him while squeezing past him in the hallway. He’d pleasured himself for a month straight over that particular incident. Sadly, once he’d found out that her friends had dared her to do it, the inciting incident had quickly lost its luster.
Hopefully, the same thing would happen with Jessa. He just needed to figure out how to snuff out the flame growing inside of him…which he clearly wasn’t going to do if he kept standing there staring at her backside all night. “Well, I guess I’d better head out and let you finish closing up.”
“I’m almost done here anyway,” Jessa said with her back still to him. “I’m just trying to batten down the hatches before I roll out. Everything in here has to be stowed away before I can leave. Otherwise, it’ll be flying around back here while I’m driving down the road. The last thing I want to do is to replace something else.”
Max gazed at the overflowing tip jar once again and sighed. Though she probably wasn’t completely broke or hurting for money, he never should’ve forced her into buying the tablecloths and trash cans last week. That hadn’t been fair. And since it was his fault that Jessa had spent her hard-earned money on those things because of a lie he’d told, it was only right that he pay for them.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. It was the only money he had on him at the moment, but it would probably be enough to cover the expenses of what she’d bought at his suggestion. Without hesitation, Max leaned forward and deposited the bill inside the jar.
He’d barely pulled his hand free when Jessa turned around to face him. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Max shrugged nonchalantly. “Probably.”
“All right. Have a good night, Max.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Though guilt swam through him at the thought of betraying Pops, Max walked back to his truck with his hands in his empty pockets and a huge grin on his face. The deed was done, and Jessa hadn’t apparently noticed a thing. He regretted that he had once again failed Pops, but Max liked knowing that he’d done the right thing. Even if he couldn’t tell Jessa the truth.
Chapter Six
Jessa arrived at the commercial kitchen where she rented space to find a stocky Hispanic man in his late thirties waiting on her under a security light. As usual, Mario was right on time.
She waved at him as she backed the truck up to the doors of the kitchen and came to a full stop. It took her a moment to get out since she had to gather her money bag and all of her paperwork, but Mario didn’t hesitate. He threw open the back door of the food truck and got straight to work with unloading.
She didn’t know what she would do without him. Not only did he work hard for her, but he had always taken initiative and never stood around waiting for orders. She loved that about him.
When she’d first hired Mario, his job had been to help her stock the truck in the mornings. But the moment he found out Jessa had been unloading and cleaning the truck out all by herself at night, he’d started showing up then too. She had always made sure she paid him for all of his time, of course, but had to laugh when he remarked that she was too little to carry all of those boxes by herself.
Little? Ha! Short, maybe. Jessa definitely wouldn’t call herself little. She had thick thighs and too many side rolls to be classified that way. But it didn’t matter to her. Even though she could probably stand to lose a few extra pounds, she was otherwise okay with her full, womanly figure. Liked it even. Not every woman needed to be a size six or have a perfectly flat tummy. None of that would change her worth as a decent human being or make her a more valuable member of society.
Besides, there were plenty of guys out there who liked a woman with some meat on her bones. Sexy wasn’t a size; it was a state of mind.
Arms full, she climbed out of the cab and headed for the kitchen. She reached the door just as Mario came out to grab another load from the truck. “How’d you do today, boss?” he asked with a thick Spanish accent.
“I think we did well. I won’t know for sure until I figure the receipts, but it’s the third day in a row
that we sold out of almost everything.”
He nodded his approval. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Well, you probably shouldn’t be. I might have to start stocking more food onto the truck.”
Not one to shy away from work, Mario grinned. “No problem. Just let me know what you want to add in the morning, and I’ll make sure it’s on the truck.”
“Thanks,” Jessa told him as she continued inside to put her things down.
Once she’d done so, she headed back out to help him unload the last few boxes and food storage bins. After several trips, the truck was completely unloaded. Jessa went back inside to start on the paperwork and wash the dirty dishes while Mario finished up with the truck outside.
The used oil from the fryer needed to be drained into the grease trap, the trash needed to be deposited into the Dumpster, and every surface inside the truck needed to be washed and sanitized thoroughly. If it hadn’t been for Mario’s willingness to show up at night and help out, she would easily be stuck there another hour making sure it was all taken care of. The man was a godsend.
Jessa totaled all of her receipts, counted the money she had taken in, and went through all of the figures twice. All of that checked out perfectly. But something strange happened. When she counted the tip money, she found a hundred-dollar bill! She’d never found that large of a tip in the jar before, so where had it come from? The last customer who ordered from her had given a tip, but the woman had never touched the tip jar. That woman had handed Jessa her cash and told her to keep the change. And no one else came by after that. Well, except for…Max?
No. That’s too silly to even consider. Why the heck would he tip me a hundred dollars? He didn’t even order anything.
Then she remembered that he had been standing at the counter where the money jar had been sitting. Not only that, but at one point, she had turned around to tell him good-bye and distinctly remembered seeing his hand near the tip jar. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now it seemed to make sense. But why in the world would he give her money? Especially that large of an amount. Was he insane? He had to be. Who else in their right mind would go around tipping someone a hundred dollars for doing nothing?