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Clutch Player Page 8

by Kylie Gilmore


  “Ooh, the margaritas are supposed to be fantastic here,” she said.

  “No drinks.”

  “Why not?”

  He gave her a stern look. “Last time you drank you told me more than I needed to know.”

  That stung. She’d confided in him about her ex and what she’d been through. “I can drink if I want to.”

  “Not on my watch.”

  She scowled. “What happened to the good-time guy?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  The waiter arrived and Jared ordered a virgin margarita for her. “See? That’s fun too,” he said after the waiter left.

  “Seriously?” she asked in total exasperation.

  “I can’t handle you in my lap,” he said, sounding kind of desperate.

  “You think every time I drink I sit in a guy’s lap?”

  “Every time I’ve seen you drink, you sat in my lap.”

  “That was one time!”

  He raised the menu in front of his face. “One time too many.”

  Geez. She couldn’t believe how difficult it was to seduce this man. He’d kissed her back not five minutes ago! “If I’m so awful, then why’re you here?”

  He dropped the menu. “Because I wanted…I’m trying…I dunno.” He scowled. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t even have a fun fling with the one man known for that.

  She stood. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I just wanted a little fun.”

  He grabbed her wrist and held it. “Why me? Are you trying to hurt Angel?”

  “No.” She swallowed. “Everyone knows you’re fun.”

  “And what happens after a little fun?”

  “Nothing.”

  He released her wrist. “You deserve better than that. Don’t settle for less. That’s why Angel—ah!” He leaped out of his seat.

  She’d dumped her glass of ice water over his head. She wasn’t sorry either. “Don’t say that name again.”

  He shook his head, and icy drops of water splashed her. “Turnabout is fair play,” he said, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

  “Oh,” she breathed. He yanked her T-shirt forward and dropped a handful of dripping wet ice down the front of her shirt, making her yelp. Ice collided with her bra, lodging between her breasts, and slid down her stomach. She pulled away, shaking out her shirt and bra. Several people at nearby tables stared.

  He smiled smugly. “Now we’re even.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m thinking you could use more ice.”

  The waiter returned in a hurry. “Can I take your order?”

  She and Jared took one look at each other, still dripping wet, and burst out laughing. They were acting a little crazy for a restaurant.

  She sat down. “We need a few minutes,” she told the waiter.

  Jared pulled off his sweatshirt and handed it to her. He had a black T-shirt on underneath. “You look chilly.”

  She glanced down. She had the wet T-shirt look, her nipples tight and pointing at him. “I’ll be right back.”

  She headed to the restroom, took off the wet T-shirt and bra, and pulled on the sweatshirt still warm from his body. A little wet around the collar, but what could you do? She loved his scent still wrapped in his shirt—like apple pie and spice. She got a plastic take-out bag from the hostess and put her wet things in there before returning to the table and taking her seat.

  “That’s the second time you wore my sweatshirt,” Jared said.

  “So?”

  He arched a brow. “I think you like wearing men’s clothes.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He smirked. “Maybe I need to buy more sweatshirts before you steal them all.”

  “I’m not stealing them. I’m borrowing them.” She eyed his muscular arms now visible in the short sleeves and really wanted to see his chest too. The more Jared, the better. “Can I borrow that T-shirt?”

  He leaned close, his voice husky. “Would you like me to eat lunch shirtless?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  His green eyes lit up. “I bet you are,” he said on a laugh. She couldn’t help but smile back.

  The waiter returned to take their orders. Conversation flowed after that as she asked how Vince and Sophia were doing. Apparently Sophia was trying with little success to knit some baby booties, which she feared meant she was going to be a terrible mom. Vince, in return, dropped a bag of premade booties into her lap, which she didn’t appreciate like he thought she would. They were a hoot. The food arrived, and they ate while she told Jared a little about her family—her extremely driven lawyer parents, her two older sisters with their perfect husbands and perfect children living in a wealthy suburb of Connecticut. Her sisters never missed an opportunity to brag about their super-devoted husbands who would never cheat.

  “Ooh, you’ll never guess what Steven did,” Emily said, raising her voice to sound like her oldest sister, Claire. “He brought me wine after work and then rubbed my feet. He just knew I’d had a rough day with the kids.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s my Claire impersonation. She probably texted him and told him to do that. No man is that thoughtful.”

  Jared raised a brow.

  She lifted a finger. “Here’s Sara: Tim brings me breakfast in bed every morning. Then he makes me lunch and puts it in the fridge so I won’t have to worry about lunch with the baby.” She pursed her lips. “And guess what’s in the lunch?”

  Jared snorted. “What?”

  “A love note. She puts them all in a scrapbook that she loves to show off.”

  Jared took a sip of water. “You don’t get along with your sisters?”

  She sighed. “I do. We’re only a year apart, all three of us in a row, but…they’re always rubbing it in my face that I’m the one that fell for a pretty face. Looks can only take you so far, they always say. About him, but also me. They call me the pretty one, Sara’s the sweet one, Claire’s the smart one.” She blew out a breath. “Obviously I know looks aren’t everything. My life has never been all sparkles and unicorns.”

  Jared looked behind her. “Spoke too soon. I just spotted a unicorn.”

  She grinned. “You’re so easy to talk to. So nonjudgmental.”

  He spread his palms. “I’m pretty open-minded.”

  “Not that open-minded. You wouldn’t let me drink.”

  “You’d probably fall asleep on me, and then I’d have to carry you out of here.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Please. Save me the embarrassment.”

  She laughed. “You want to come over after this? Or I could go to your place?”

  He shook his head, suddenly serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?” She grabbed her water glass and raised it threateningly. “And don’t you dare say that name again! I’m warning you.”

  He inclined his head. “You love someone close to me.”

  She set her glass down. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “Come on. Love doesn’t just turn off like a faucet. I’ve seen it with my brothers. Once they fall—” he whistled and made a gesture like they dove off a cliff “—that’s it. They’re sunk.” He stared at the table for a moment, his brow creased in concentration before he lifted his head and stared at her with a strange expression, almost like he’d suddenly remembered something.

  “What is it?”

  “Did the faucet turn off for you with…that guy we, uh, both know?”

  “It’s not like that for me at all. I don’t love that guy, and I don’t love my ex anymore. Maybe I never had true love.” She found herself getting choked up. This was supposed to be a fun fling, and it was getting all screwed up. And now all she could think about was how she’d never had true love and she probably never would. She couldn’t recognize the real thing, obviously.

  Jared piped up. “Maybe you did have love,
but—”

  “So it’s my fault?” she snapped.

  He raised his palms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t say that. You just had bad luck with your ex.”

  “And with Angel?”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to say his name.”

  She glared at him.

  “He’s a great guy.” He tapped the table. “That’s just a fact.” He met her eyes, something in them distant yet still locked on hers. His gaze turned heated. Her lips parted, and he turned away, breaking the connection.

  She bit back a groan of frustration. She was never going to get through to him. So why did she want him more than ever?

  He stood. “I gotta get going.” He dropped some cash on the table. “Keep the sweatshirt,” he added before he took off.

  “I’ll find another way to get excitement!” she called after him. “I’ll do that jumping thing.”

  He stopped, shook his head, and kept going.

  She lifted a finger for the waiter. “Margarita, please. Not a virgin.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Completely giving up on the excitement of a fling or freebase jumping (obviously neither one was going to happen, Jared was impossible and she wasn’t crazy enough to try a jump without an experienced guide), Emily resigned herself to her normal, safe life focused on work, cooking, and reading. After lunch with Jared, she’d headed to Book It to find a nice juicy romance for vicarious excitement and spotted a flyer for a Thanksgiving cooking class taught by local chef Shane O’Hare. The class started the very next day. She called the number and managed to slip into the last available slot.

  The following afternoon, she approached “the mansion” with great enthusiasm for her cooking class. The two-and-a-half-story white clapboard house was stunning with white columns on either side of the two-story portico and a wraparound porch. Its real name was the Ludbury House, and it was owned by the town of Clover Park. Community events were often hosted on the beautifully landscaped grounds, with the house itself reserved for weddings and the occasional fundraising dinner.

  “Hello?” she called. The beautiful foyer with its crystal chandelier and grand staircase was empty. She peeked into an empty parlor room. She felt a little strange wandering around the place on her own.

  A young woman with long, wavy strawberry blond hair, pale blue eyes, and a bright smile rushed out front. She wore a royal blue sheath dress with matching pumps. “Are you looking for the cooking class?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right this way!” She turned on her high heels, with an enthusiastic wave of her hand. Emily followed her to the back of the house to a large professional-grade kitchen, where only one man stood in an apron.

  “This is our instructor, Mr. O’Hare,” the woman said.

  “Shane,” the man corrected. His cheeks flushed red just like his hair.

  Emily smiled. “Yes, I recognize you from your ice-cream shop.” Everyone in town knew Shane. He was thirtyish and married with four kids under four. Busy household, she imagined.

  “And Something’s Brewing Café too,” the woman said. “Oh! Where are my manners?” She held out a hand and Emily shook it. “I’m Hailey Adams. The wedding planner for Ludbury House. Are you single?”

  “Err…yes.” She hadn’t realized there was an official wedding planner associated with the house.

  Hailey’s blue eyes sparked with excitement. “I can help you with that!”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “Down, girl!” a woman said on a laugh. Emily turned to see an older woman with white, spiky hair and an outfit that was very inappropriate for a woman well over sixty—a pink faux fur vest over a midriff-revealing red T-shirt with a heart on it that read Love. Her pink tutu was also patterned with hearts. She wore white tights and leopard-print Mary Janes. “You got to plan the weddings, not cause them to happen.”

  “Someone has to drum up business around here,” Hailey replied, completely unfazed. “Oh! I think I hear another student.” She rushed out of the room.

  “Hey, Gran,” Shane said.

  “Hey, yourself.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss Shane’s cheek. Then she crossed to Emily, took her hand, and shook it in a surprisingly firm grip. “I’m Maggie O’Hare. Taught the boy everything I know, which is why I’m here to share some of my secret holiday recipes.”

  Emily smiled. “That sounds wonderful. I’m Emily.”

  Just then two more people arrived. Emily jolted, surprised to see Angel there. He walked in with a pretty young woman with shoulder-length brown hair. Though Angel didn’t touch the woman, there was something protective about the way he walked with her, leading her to the center of the space.

  “Shane,” Angel said, giving him a pat-on-the-back bro hug, “Good to see you. I’m here under duress at Julia’s request.”

  “Angel,” Julia said softly, her cheeks flushing pink.

  Angel turned to Julia and grinned his devilish, dimpled smile. She smiled back even as he said, “She needed someone who cooked worse than her so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

  Julia mimed strangling him. He stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes up like she’d succeeded.

  Maggie introduced herself to Angel and Julia, who didn’t smile during Maggie’s friendly greeting. And then Angel introduced Julia to Emily and stepped back to talk to Shane.

  Julia shook her hand, her grip weak despite the fact she wasn’t petite. They were the same size, a hearty five foot seven. Up close, her brown eyes had a haunting sadness to them. “Nice to meet you,” Julia murmured, her eyes already drifting away to Angel.

  He reappeared by Julia’s side and whispered something to her that seemed to make her relax.

  Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Okay, now. Grab some aprons.” She gestured to a row of hooks on the wall with a bunch of white aprons.

  Emily went to get one. Angel got there first. He took one and handed it to Julia before taking one for himself. There was an easy way between the two of them that made Emily sure this was the woman Angel had said he loved. He’d never mentioned Julia by name, but his devotion to her was clear. And the way Julia responded to him, only brightening under his attention, made her seem like a delicate flower in need of Angel’s care. Seeing that, Emily was glad Angel had let her go. There couldn’t have been a future for them with Julia in the picture.

  They gathered around the large stainless steel prep table in the center of the room. Shane had just finished telling them about the sides they’d be preparing—his grandmother’s cornbread stuffing, Brussels sprouts with bacon dressing, and sweet potatoes in orange cups—when another student arrived.

  Emily smiled. “Hi, Josh.” This was a nice surprise. She’d never seen the friendly bartender outside of Garner’s Sports Bar & Grill. He had a thick growth of stubble on his jaw like he hadn’t shaved today, and his dark brown hair stuck up like he’d just rolled out of bed. The look really worked for him in a sexy and very appealing way. His black long-sleeve shirt hung loosely over ripped jeans.

  Josh flashed a smile her way. “Hey, you, this forced class just got a whole lot better.” She wondered if he even remembered her name with all the women he met at the bar. He crossed to her. “My boss insisted I show up here today and report back on the recipes for the restaurant.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I drew the short straw for the Sunday afternoon duty.”

  “Liar,” Shane said with a grin. “You’re a secret foodie.”

  Josh shot a warning finger at Shane that just made him laugh. Three middle-aged couples joined them, coming in together with the enthusiastic wedding planner Hailey.

  Hailey wiggled her fingers at Josh. “Emily is single,” she caroled.

  Emily’s cheeks burned.

  “So am I,” Josh caroled back.

  Hailey grinned. “Looks like you too will have to pair up.” She gestured for them to stand closer together.

  Josh moved in and pressed flush against Emily’s side. “Like this?”

  Hailey beamed a
nd gave him a thumbs-up before turning and striding out of the room to do whatever it was she did on a Sunday afternoon at Ludbury House.

  Josh turned to Emily with an infectious smile. “Is this good for you?”

  Emily laughed and felt someone staring. She turned to find Angel watching her before quickly turning away.

  “We do actually need everyone to pair up,” Shane said. “That way everyone has a burner and a mixer.”

  “No problem,” Josh said, bumping her with his hip. “We’re good.”

  Angel and Julia were already paired up. Everyone else was a couple.

  They began the cornbread stuffing with Maggie barking out orders and checking on each pair, correcting them as she moved around the room. “Really rip into that bread, Julia. Don’t be afraid to tear it apart.”

  Julia nodded and tore the stale bread a little more forcefully. Angel made a growling face behind Maggie’s back while he ripped into his piece of bread, making Julia bite her lip, holding back a laugh.

  “Are you really a foodie?” Emily asked Josh while she watched him pick up a knife and slice the bread quickly into perfect rectangles.

  He gestured to the pile of bread that he’d made short work of. “What do you think?”

  “Have you thought about being a chef?” she asked.

  “They don’t tip the chef,” he responded. “I clean up bartending.”

  She knew he did, especially on ladies’ night. “Yes, but do you love bartending?”

  “One day I’ll have my own restaurant and bar,” he said. “The whole deal.”

  “Pay attention, class!” Maggie barked like the general she’d suddenly become once class started. “Next we sauté the vegetables. Shane’s chopped ahead of time, so gather your vegetables and to the stove!”

  “She’s scaring me,” Josh whispered to Emily. She giggled.

  “If you have something to say, you can tell the whole class,” Maggie said, appearing in front of Josh and looking up at him. The petite badass general.

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Maggie cackled. “I’m just joshing with you.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Though I expect you to give me sex on the beach after this.”

 

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