The Christmas Wedding Swap

by Allyson Charles

  “No, it’s not.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “And before I tell you what it is, I want you to try a bite.”

  Never one to pass up a culinary experience, she plucked up her fork and dug in. The edge of her fork cut easily into the tender meat, and another wave of scents wafted over her. She inhaled appreciatively before taking a bite. Her taste buds exploded.

  “Ohhh, what is this?” she asked, loading another bite up.

  “It’s what you’re going to serve at Sadie’s wedding.”

  She dropped the fork. “Excuse me? What was that? I know you didn’t just inform me of a change to my menu.”

  Grinning, he picked up her fork and brought it to her lips. “Roasted turkey with mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and side vegetables just won’t cut it for a wedding.”

  Her mouth watered. She wanted that bite like she wanted her next pair of boots. She took a last sniff of heaven, and pushed his hand away. “You haven’t tasted my roast turkey. It is melt-in-your-mouth delicious.”

  The man at the end of the counter nodded his head. “Her turkey is really good.”

  “Shut up, Stewart,” she said, her focus solely on the man in front of her.

  “I’m sure it is.” Luke slid the bite into his own mouth, his eyes closing briefly. “It’s also boring.”

  “What you call boring, I call hearty, down-home cooking.” She pushed to her feet and placed her palms on the counter.

  “It’s uninspired,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “Unpretentious.”

  He leaned forward, their noses only inches away. “Think about Sadie. When she talks about her wedding years from now, would she rather say her meal was hearty roast turkey? Or that her signature dish was a turkey roulade stuffed with wild game, figs, and chevre, glazed with a cranberry chutney, served on a”—he scooped up a forkful of rice—“bed of wild mushroom risotto and truffle oil?”

  She was going to tell him that this was Pineville, where froufrou dishes were mocked as heartily as participation trophies. But when she opened her mouth, he slid another bite of that froufrou food inside, and words escaped her. Damn, it was good. The buttery turkey melted in her mouth. The sweetness of the figs in the stuffing was cut by the tang of the cheese and the tartness of the cranberry chutney. The wild game gave the dish a depth of flavor, an edge, that straight turkey couldn’t compare with.

  Screw finding a husband. She could live quite happily with this plate of food. Stewart scooted down the counter and sniffed her plate. Allison all but stabbed him with her butter knife. “Stick to your own meal,” she snarled, shoulder blocking him from her food.

  Luke placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back down into her seat, handing over the fork. Grabbing the rolling stool behind the cash register, he plopped down across from her. “So, what do you say? You want me to show you how to make it? It’s actually a very good meal to cater, easy to prepare in bulk and transport. Works with both red and white wines. I used some moose meat that Pete gave me for the game, but I’d suggest wild boar for the actual event.”

  Allison chewed and stared into his fir-green eyes.

  He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Well? Which would Sadie prefer?”

  Damn the man. Of course, Sadie would want the exotic taste explosion in her mouth. Any sane person would. “You’re going to share your recipe with me?”

  His brow furrowed. Scratching his chest, he said, “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  Sadie took a sip of water and wiped her mouth. Most chefs jealously guarded their recipes. And there was no doubt that Luke was a first-class chef. If the week and a half he’d been working for her didn’t prove it, this meal did.

  “Thank you. The dish will be a knockout.” She stood, picked up her empty plate, and walked around the counter. “I’ll confirm the change with Sadie, but I’m sure she’ll love the idea.”

  His fingers brushed hers as he reached for her plate. A spark shot up her arm, and her breath caught in her throat. “I’ll take it,” he said, his voice low, rough.

  It had been twenty hours since their kiss, and they’d been circling each other like two dogs in heat ever since. Every look, every smile of his told her he was available if she changed her mind. It was getting harder to remember why she shouldn’t change her mind.

  The call bell by the register rang out, and Allison stepped out of Luke’s orbit. A stunning redhead in a shearling jacket stood in front of the cash machine. She stared at Luke, a wide smile stretching across her face. She looked like a cat about ready to cough up canary feathers. “Hello, Luke,” she said, her teasing drawl hiding a bite of steel. “Am I interrupting something?” She turned kohl-lined eyes on Allison.

  Luke’s knuckles turned as white as the plate he gripped. “Laurie.” He said nothing else, his lips so tight Allison didn’t think any words could escape.

  “Uh, old friend of yours?” Allison asked. This might be a good reminder of why she shouldn’t succumb to Luke’s charms. Skanky ex-lovers popping up couldn’t be a good sign, and it was a group whose ranks she had no intention of joining.

  The woman rested her arms on the top of the register. “Oh, Luke and I go way back. You might even say we’re legally bound.”

  And just like that Allison’s stomach dropped to her sneakers. Her lying, cheating drifter was a married man.

  * * * *

  Luke couldn’t make a sound, the fury he felt so tangible it choked him. After all the shit Laurie had pulled, that she had the nerve to even show her face beggared belief. That she was giving him her pissy evil-clown smile, like she was the aggrieved party, was incredible.

  If he wasn’t so ticked off, he might be a little impressed. Both at her attitude, and the fact that she’d found him when the process servers hadn’t—yet.

  Luke swallowed. He had to play this right, or his restaurant was done.

  He forced a smile across his face. “What a surprise,” he said, tossing Allison’s plate into the plastic tub behind the counter. “What brings you here?”

  “Don’t be cute. We need to talk.” She spun on her four-inch heels, stalked to a booth in the corner, and slid in. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and stared at Luke, waiting for him to do her bidding and come to her.

  “I’m taking fifteen,” he told Allison, not waiting to hear her response. From experience, he knew that Laurie was a snake it was best not to ignore. He strode across the restaurant, his shoulders bunching tighter with every step before sitting across from the viper. “How did you find me?”

  Pursing her shellacked lips, Laurie shook her head. “Is that really the question you want to ask? You always were technologically challenged, Lukie.”

  He ground his teeth at the endearment he’d always hated. She liked pushing buttons, and Luke wasn’t going to let her see she got to him. “Okay, I guess the better question is, why are you here? I’m not the one suing you.”

  “You’re the one who’s skipped out so my ass is the only one on the line,” she hissed, leaning across the table. “You’re the one who signed the damned contract. I was just your agent. I’m not taking the fall for this.”

  “I think we both know you were more than just an agent. You shuffled that contract in with a whole bunch of other papers, knowing I wouldn’t look too closely. You wanted the percentage Staghart guaranteed you for each sale. This whole thing started because of you.” He took a deep breath through his nose, and unclenched his fists. “But blaming each other does no one any good.”

  “And it does me no good to be standing in court by myself.” She pointed a manicured nail at him. “You’re going to be standing next to me.”

  Luke nodded, trying to look thoughtful. “I could. But then we’ll both be found liable. You’ll still have to pay. Or…”

  Jenny came up to their table. “Hey, Luke. Can I get you or your friend anything to drink?�
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  “Cappuccino,” Laurie said, not looking at the server.

  Jenny scratched her head with a pencil. “Yeah, uh, our coffee comes in black or with cream. Sorry.”

  Laurie looked around the diner and gave the girl a tight smile. “Of course it does. Black.”

  “Nothing for me. Thanks, Jenny.” He turned back to Laurie when the waitress left. “Where were we?”

  “You were about to share how we can get out of this mess.” She pinched her lips. “I’m not going to lose my IRA over this.”

  Pausing while Jenny placed a steaming mug on the table, Luke laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the table. “The Stagharts don’t have a case if I’m not included in the lawsuit. If they can’t find me, it falls apart. No judge is going to allow it to proceed just against you, a former employee. As you said, your name isn’t on the contract.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She pushed the cup of coffee out of her way. “You expect me to just let things go as they are and hope the case gets dismissed? You’re stupider than I thought.”

  He wasn’t going to make it to the count of ten. The woman was a stone-cold bitch, without the self-awareness God gave an earthworm. Luke’s face prickled. He couldn’t believe he’d ever found Laurie attractive, that he’d slept with her. He’d mistaken her selfishness for strength, and Luke had always loved strong women.

  He glanced over at the counter, but Allison and her laptop were gone.

  Sighing, he placed his elbows on the table. “Look, hire a lawyer and get a professional opinion. Contact Keith and he’ll cut you a check for the consultation. I’ll even pay for any motions or whatever he’ll do on your behalf. But I’m certain he’ll agree that it’s better for you if I don’t get served.”

  Tapping her nails on the tabletop, she stared at him silently.

  “It costs you nothing to follow my advice.” He shot her his most sincere smile. “What have you got to lose?”

  “Okay.” Nodding, she tucked the strap of her purse over one shoulder. “You’ll pay for my professional advice. But I’m warning you,” she said, her eyes narrowing to slits, “don’t even think about running again. I’ll be watching. And I know how to find you.”

  Heels clacking, she strolled away without a backward glance, acting for all the world like she had him by the balls. And damn if she didn’t. Until he found out how she’d tracked him, he was under her thumb.

  He found Allison in her office and leaned against the doorjamb. “Do you know anything about computers?” Laurie had insulted his technological skills, so he figured she must have found him somehow using a computer.

  Allison didn’t look up. “I know how to run my accounting software and check my e-mail.” She tore a page of yellow paper from a pad, slammed it on the desk, and continued writing on the next sheet.

  “Okay…that probably won’t help.” He crossed his arms and observed Allison. Where had the woman moaning over his culinary creation gone, and how did he get her back?

  “Any other questions?” She slapped another sheet on the small pile of papers in front of her. “No? Then I suggest you ask your wife to give you a ride to my house and get your crap out of there. You’re no longer welcome.”

  Luke shot off the door frame. “My what?”

  “Your wife.” She looked up, her eyes full of anger. “The woman you are legally bound to.”

  He took a step forward. “She’s not—”

  Her hand shot up, palm forward. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m sure she just doesn’t understand you, or you’re legally separated but the divorce just hasn’t gone through yet. Frankly, I don’t care what your story is. I just want you gone.”

  Ignoring her stiff-arm, one worthy of a Heisman trophy, he knocked past it, and stepped into her space. He bent down, rested one hand on her desk, the other on the wall beside her head. “Not married, Allison. That woman and I are most definitely not attached in any way.”

  “But, she said…” A little divot puckered between her eyebrows.

  “That we were legally bound, I know.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers down the silky skin of her neck. “We’re codefendants in a lawsuit. I would never have come on to you if I were married. I’m not that kind of man. I thought you knew that.”

  Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers. “I…I thought I did, too.” She chewed her plump bottom lip. “Just a lawsuit? You’re not together?”

  “Not together.” He leaned back on her desk, blowing out a deep breath. “But, full disclosure, we used to date, but it’s been a long time.” She nodded slowly, a wrinkle still marring her brow. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I do. It’s just…” Flicking her pencil against the desk, she blew out a sigh. “Look, you’re a big question mark. Traveling around like a vagabond. You have expert skills in the kitchen yet took a job as my fry cook. And now a woman from your past pops up talking about a lawsuit. I want to know more.”

  He stood and paced to the other side of the office. It didn’t take long. He liked hiding who he was from her about as much as she liked being kept in the dark. She deserved to know who was sleeping under her roof. But it was a gamble telling another person about his troubles.

  She stared at him steadily, her big chocolate eyes not demanding anything, just curious. And concerned. The knot in his stomach loosened. Taking a deep breath, he threw in his chips.

  “My name isn’t Hammer; it’s Hamilton. Luke Hamilton.” He paused when her eyes widened. She’d obviously heard of him, but if she followed any of the news of the culinary world, that wasn’t surprising. “I’ve been traveling incognito for the past couple of weeks. When my bike broke down and I had to stay in town till it was fixed, well, I just made up a name to tell people. We weren’t friends when I lied to you,” he said, a tinge of desperation coloring his voice. Worse than her kicking him out of her house and kitchen, would she drop him from her life? She’d have every right to be pissed.

  But the woman threw him another surprise. “No, I get it. You didn’t owe me anything at the time. But why did you need to hide your name at all? I know that you’re a famous chef, but it’s not like you’d have paparazzi following you around.”

  He leaned back against the wall. “No, but I do have process servers trying to find me. One of my suppliers is suing me, but the statute of limitations runs out in about two months. If I can stay out of the process servers’ path until that time, I can’t be sued. And I really can’t be sued, Allison.” He hesitated. “I’ll lose Le Cygne Noir.”

  She pursed her lips. “Why don’t they just serve your agent of process? Or your corporate office?”

  “I never incorporated. I run my restaurant as a sole proprietor.”

  Her eyebrows disappeared under her curls. “That’s crazy. You could lose everything. Your home. Your cars. Even The Pantry is an LLC.”

  Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Luckily, what I owe the supplier wouldn’t extend past the assets of my restaurant.”

  “No chance you’d win the lawsuit?” she asked.

  “None. The woman who was just here, Laurie, was also my former manager. She negotiated a contract, promising about four times more purchases than I could afford, and I signed without reading it over closely. I had to break the contract. My supplier didn’t deliver any of the meat to me after I told him I couldn’t pay, so they’re not out-of-pocket anything.”

  Allison rolled her eyes. “That’s not really how it works.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, I hired a manager because I just want to concentrate on the food end of my restaurant. I admit I don’t have the best head for business. But I have a good manager now, and if I can just get through the next couple of months, I can make it.”

  Looking unconvinced, Allison stood. The exercise ball drifted around the desk. “So what can I do? Do you wan
t me to look at your books or something?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I was hoping you might know something about how a person could track another using technology. Laurie found me somehow, and if she can, the process servers can.”

  Picking up her phone from the desk, Allison started punching numbers. “I can’t believe I’m making this call, but there are only two people in Pineville I can think of who could help.” She put the phone to her ear and narrowed her eyes. “But you’re going to owe me big.”

  Chapter Eight

  Deborah Garcia and Miss Eugenie Shaw had set up a war room of sorts, with laptops, tablets, and smartphones cluttering a booth. Their wrinkled fingers flew over keyboards and touch screens. Luke sat hunched in the corner, squeezed in between the wall and Mrs. Garcia’s large frame. Allison poured each of them a refill on their coffees. “How’s it going here?”

  Miss Eugenie unwrapped a red-and-white candy and popped it in her mouth. “Fine, fine. This boy here doesn’t know his operating system from his processor, but we’ll fix that.” She wrapped a hand around her mug. “Good coffee, by the way. You used to serve sludge.”

  “Told you so,” Luke said, sounding too smug by half.

  Mrs. Garcia jabbed him in the side with her elbow. “Pay attention.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Luke mouthed, “Help me,” to Allison.

  Allison gave him a sweet smile, and shook her head. The rat bastard deserved it. The fact that Luke Hamilton had been flipping burgers in her diner, under her very nose, deserved a bit of retribution.

  “You should change your Facebook settings.” Deborah peered down at her tablet and flicked two fingers over it, making the image larger. “You have zero privacy. But you haven’t been on it since you arrived, so that shouldn’t have helped your hussy find you.” She patted Luke’s hand. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

  Hussy? Allison raised her eyebrows. Luke must have told the women some story about Laurie. Allison could think of one or two other words for the redhead. But what was more interesting was how quickly the Tree Twins had fallen under Luke’s spell. In just a week, he’d already wrapped the two women around his finger. Allison had known them her entire life, and she still didn’t think they liked her all that much. Allison was in trouble if even the Tree Twins couldn’t resist him.