Delivery Girl (Minnesota Ice #1)

by Lily Kate

  I make a noncommittal noise in my throat. After catching a glimpse of Ryan in a towel, an orange-faced Ken doll just doesn’t compare. “So are you two a thing now?”

  “A thing?” Angela grins. “I don’t know what you’d call it, but he slept over last night.”

  I shriek, pointing a finger in her face. “I knew it! You turned all lovey-dovey on me. I knew as soon as he called you baby that you’d slept with him! I thought you were just hooking up, but is this heading toward relationship territory?”

  She bites her lip, throwing a pizza in the oven before turning back to me. “He’s really sweet.”

  “I’m happy for you.” I scoot around the counter, giving her a little slap on the rear end. “Get out of here. Go shower. Get ready for the big date.”

  “I’m supposed to close with you tonight.”

  “I got it,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Go enjoy. Young love, so precious.”

  “You’re sure you can handle it?”

  “A few pizzas? No problem. My dad’ll be here to cook, and I’ll do deliveries if it gets too busy. Don’t worry.”

  “You really are the best.” She air-kisses my cheeks and disappears from the restaurant with a finger wave.

  I prepare another pizza crust then pull out my phone and text Lisa.

  Me: Want an extra twenty bucks plus tips? Need backup for tonight!

  Her reply is immediate.

  Lisa: I’ve got two hours. Be there in five.

  Two hours later, Lisa and I have made and delivered six pizzas. I give her twenty bucks, she takes home another thirty in tips, and we are both happy. I’m just waving goodbye to her car as my dad arrives, ready to start closing up shop. He sort of comes and goes at the restaurant as he feels like it; I guess that’s a perk of being the boss man.

  I say hi to my dad but am interrupted by the ring of the restaurant phone line. Papa Peretti answers it and listens with a strange look on his face. I watch while wiping down the counter.

  “Twenty?” he says, his voice weak. “Twenty.”

  My shoulders stiffen. Though I can’t be sure, I have a pretty good guess as to who might be on the line.

  “No, that’s not a problem. She’ll be right there.” My dad hangs up the phone and gives me another strange expression. “We need twenty smiley face pizzas.”

  “Dad, we’re about to close for the night!” I protest, wishing Angela had picked any night besides this one to go on a date with her new sleepover buddy. “I just let Lisa go. There’s no way I can do it all myself.”

  “Then it’s you and me, kiddo.”

  Kiddo? My dad’s tone of voice is actually friendly. “I’ll get started on the crusts. You work on the toppings.”

  We work in silence next to each other, just me and my dad cooking up twenty smiley face pizzas for a man who probably only did this to get my attention. I can’t decide if it is cute, or…something else.

  I’ve already agreed to go to the wedding with Ryan, so if this is his doing, I’m not sure why he felt the need to call the restaurant. I thought our relationship had progressed beyond pizzas.

  “Why does anyone need twenty pizzas?” I grumble as we work on number twelve.

  “I thought maybe you could tell me.” My dad raises an eyebrow, glancing curiously at me as I straighten the nose on number ten. “The customer asked for you by name.”

  “Is that right?” My stomach tightens at the thought. Twenty pizzas—that couldn’t be a date. Either it was a joke, or he was having a party.

  “You dating my star customer, Andi?”

  My head jerks up. “No, of course not. I’m just the delivery girl.”

  “I have other delivery girls, and none of them have sold so many pizzas to one person, and none of them are requested by name.”

  “What can I say?” I don’t make eye contact. “I’m charming.”

  My dad snorts. “Right.”

  I put eyes onto pizza number fourteen. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

  “Andi, you’re many things—smart, sassy, beautiful—but charming?” He shakes his head. “I hope you know that if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable during these deliveries, you can tell me. I’ll take care of things.”

  “Uncomfortable?” I think back to the way Ryan nearly kissed me in the diner. Uncomfortable? No. Exhilarated? Nervous? Ready for more? Check, check, and check. I try to hide the smile on my face. “No, Dad, it’s nothing like that.”

  My dad stops what he is doing, crosses his arms. “You like this guy.”

  “No! Dad, just stop, please.”

  “You’re sure? He’s not being rude?”

  “I’m sure, it’s nothing like that.” I pause. “He’s sort of a friend.”

  I feel my dad sizing me up in that way only parents can. He’s giving me time to see if I will admit to lying, to see if there will be more information between the lines, but I’m as confused as he is about this whole thing, so luckily, there isn’t any information to hide.

  “Well, if that’s the case, then get on the road with these.” My dad pushes two piles of boxes in my direction, apparently having decided that he believes me enough not to pry. “And if he asks you to marry him, say yes, but it’ll cost him a hundred pizzas.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “You think I’m only worth a hundred pizzas?”

  “A thousand?”

  I roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you’re willing to trade me for pizza.”

  “Hey, you like him, I can tell.” He shows me his hands in a sign of surrender. “Admit it, you’d be happy with the trade!”

  I take the pizzas, hop in my car, and hit the road. I don’t need to say anything out loud. I’d happily let my dad trade me for a hundred pizzas if Ryan would have me.

  I wouldn’t even ask for a tip.

  CHAPTER 19

  Andi

  I park very, very carefully behind Ryan’s car when I reach his brother’s house, leaving at least ten feet of space between our vehicles, even though my car isn’t the only one on the block. In fact, there are at least ten other cars, all of them more expensive than mine, most of them flashy.

  I suddenly understand Ryan’s need for twenty pizzas. He doesn’t want to see me.

  He’s having a party.

  I carry as many boxes as I can on the first go round to the front door and, true to form, it opens before I can knock.

  “Howdy.” The door is flung open, this time by the brunette woman I saw during a previous delivery—Lilia, if I remember correctly. She’s pretty in a healthy, radiant sort of way. With an athletic build, form-fitting yoga pants, and an athletic tank top with a hoodie thrown over her shoulders, she looks every bit the picture of a physical therapist, which Ryan informed me is her profession of choice. “You’re Andi?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “I’m the delivery girl, but yes, I’m also Andi.”

  She winks then steps out of the entryway. “Come on inside.”

  I take one step inside the house, pretending I haven’t already been here. “This is a beautiful home.” I look at the brunette as I speak and she blinks, and then laughs. She knows.

  “Yes, isn’t it?” She glances around appreciatively. “Lawrence did a great job with it. I just moved in. Come along now, take your shoes off.”

  “I have to get the rest of the pizzas.” I gesture to the car. “The order was for twenty pizzas, and I only have about eight here. The rest are on my front seat.”

  “I’ll help you. Oh, I’m Lilia.” She extends a hand, helping me set the first eight boxes down on the entry table. She slips on a pair of male sandals four sizes too big for her feet. “I’m Lawrence’s fiancée. Come on, let’s grab them before they get cold.”

  “You really don’t have to…” I say, but she’s already out the front door, and I get the vibe that this isn’t a chick to argue with. I sort of like her.

  Lilia speaks in a very businesslike and brisk manner, a don’t-argue-with-me sort of tone that probably suits her physical therap
y work well. I can see her ordering her patients to stretch and bend and move in all sorts of ways their bodies weren’t meant to move. I also suddenly remember that it was her and her fiancé putting on the show the first night I delivered a pizza here, and I blush.

  “You have such nice clothes on,” I say, the labels of her expensive yoga pants not slipping past me. “I don’t want you to smell like sausage.”

  “That’s what the laundry machine is for.” She marches onward, grabs half the pizzas from the car while I grab the other half, and we make our way back up to the front door. “You’re the first girl he’s ever invited to poker night, for the record.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Ryan!” She eyes me over the pizza boxes. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  “I wouldn’t call delivering pizzas being invited over.” I give an awkward laugh. “That’s like catering a party and saying I’m one of the guests. Don’t get me wrong though, we at Peretti’s Pizza appreciate the business.”

  Awesome—now I sound like a pizza robot. I cringe as the words leave my mouth.

  “Of course you’re invited. We already ate.” She gives me a curious sort of smile. “Ryan said he had to buy you the night off so you could come play with us. Apparently your dad is a stickler for you getting your deliveries done?”

  A feeling stirs in my stomach, and I can’t decide if I’m flattered or mildly annoyed. “Is that right?”

  “You’re not going to make a big deal out of me telling you this, are you?” She shifts her pizzas. “He was trying to be cute, I think. Please don’t be mad at him.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not mad—”

  “Good,” she says. “Because he’ll never tell you this, but I think he gets lonely out here. He’s had to stay a week or two longer than he thought—this business with the agent is running him a little ragged with stress and, well, I think he likes spending time with you.”

  My heart is now melted. “I enjoy it too,” I say quietly.

  “Good! That’s what I love to hear.” She waves me over to the side of the path and lowers her voice. “And there’s one other thing you should know. He’s not like them, the other players. He’s from Minnesota, and he acts like it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well…” She shifts. “He won’t tell you any of this, but he’s a nice guy, the sort of guy who wants a family someday, and kids, a dog, the big old Christmas cards tradition, you name it. He might say he’s looking for a one-night stand or nothing but a friendship or whatever, but it’s not true. So just be careful, okay?”

  “Careful? We’re just friends.”

  “Okay,” she says with an unconvinced tone. “I’m just saying that he’s going to be my brother-in-law, and I like the guy. I’m watching out for him. We all are.”

  “Just friends,” I say again. “Promise.”

  She eyes the pizza, but by this time we’re already at the door. Stopping once more on the front steps, she lowers her voice and leans close to me. “All I’m saying is you’re the first girl I’ve seen him bring home in a while.”

  “I’m the delivery girl.”

  “But you’re here, aren’t you?”

  I hesitate. “Lilia, if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t he just ask me to spend time with him tonight instead of…this.” I gesture to the boxes. “He could’ve just asked.”

  Her eyes fall on the pizzas. Then she grins. “I knew I liked you,” she says. “And I’m happy Ryan’s finally found a girl with her head on her shoulders.”

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Has he taken you to that dinky little coffee place?” she asks. My astonishment must show, because she continues. “Ryan doesn’t take anyone there. It’s his special alone place or whatever. He’d kill me if he knew I called it that.”

  I laugh harder. “It doesn’t mean anything, we just wanted coffee.”

  “Take your shoes off and stay a while,” she says, ignoring my arguments. “We all want you to be here. I live here, so I’m inviting you inside.”

  “I’d love to, but my dad’s alone at the pizza place tonight.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Have you checked your phone recently?”

  “No, why?” I move to get the phone out of my jeans pocket, but my hands are full.

  Lilia leads the way inside, relieving me of the pizza boxes.

  I look at my phone, and sure enough, there is a text from my dad.

  Dad: Andi, is that you? This is your dad.

  Me: Dad, you don’t have to identify yourself. I have your number.

  My phone pings before I can slide it back into my pocket.

  Dad: A very nice man called asking for my permission to invite you in for a poker night, and then he tipped the company two hundred bucks. You’ll go and you’ll play that poker game, do you understand me?

  Me: Dad, are you pimping me out for pizza?

  Dad: Don’t use that language with me.

  Me: I can if it’s true!

  Dad: None of your other boyfriends have asked me for permission to take you on a date.

  Me: What if I don’t want to go?

  Dad: You do. I’ve never seen you so excited for a delivery. And his sister-in-law will be there. She’s a doctor.

  I look up now, scrunching up my eyebrows at Lilia. “Did you talk to my dad on the phone?”

  She nods. “Ryan called to leave a tip, then asked if he could tip enough to give you the rest of the night off. Your dad had a few choice words to say to him.”

  “My dad can be overprotective.”

  “He just loves you.” Lilia smiles. “So Ryan asked him permission to take you out on a date—a real date—and said that tonight was just a friend thing. Then I popped on the line, and we got to chatting about physical therapy, and finally he agreed. Your poor dad thinks I’m a nice girl, but boy is he wrong.”

  She winks and I laugh, but it isn’t genuine, because I’m focused on the first part of the statement.

  “A real date?” I ask weakly.

  “A real date,” she echoes. “Your dad said it’s okay, as long as he picks you up and drops you off before midnight tomorrow. Oh, by the way, you have a date tomorrow.”

  “Nice of my dad to plan my love life for me.” Even though I have a snarky retort for Lilia, part of me shivers with excitement. I’ve never had a man ask my father permission before he dated me, let alone one as handsome and successful as Ryan. “And remind me how you’re involved?”

  “I took the phone when your dad asked for references.”

  I almost faint. “My dad asked Ryan for references?”

  “It was cute! So I vouched for Ryan, told your dad I’m marrying Ryan’s brother, that I’d stick around tonight to help you as needed. I also had to give your dad my name, phone number, and Social Security number.”

  “What?!”

  “I’m kidding. Your dad just wanted to know you’re safe.” She grins. “He might seem as if he’ll trade you for a stack of pizzas and a hundred-dollar tip, but he’d never. He loves you, I can tell.”

  My dad has the strangest way of showing affection, but since my mom isn’t around anymore, he does his best. With a sigh, I decide to play nice with my dad, even if he’s meddling in my love life like his old Sicilian grandmother.

  Me: Dad, I’m here with Lilia. She’s nice. I’m going to play a game of poker and hang out for a couple hours. I’ll be home in a bit.

  Dad: Curfew of two a.m.

  Me: I’m too old for a curfew.

  Dad: You live at home, my rules.

  I sigh then look up at Lilia. “I have ’til one thirty. Shall we deliver these pizzas to the boys?”

  “We already ate,” she says on a laugh. “Let’s leave them in the kitchen for a midnight snack. With hockey boys in the room, they’ll be gone in a second.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Ryan

  I can’t tear my eyes away from the damn door.

  I hear them talking in the kitchen—Lilia and Andi�
�laughing and chatting and going on and on as if I’m not sitting here in my chair, so anxious to see her that I just folded a pair of pocket aces.

  But it’s worth it, because now she’s there, standing in the doorway, red collared shirt and all, looking hot as hell in her tight jeans. Her curvy figure taunts me, breasts straining beneath the slightly-too-small uniform. She offers me a smile, and I wonder if I’m having an aneurysm.

  My breath catches in my chest, and that’s when I know I’m an idiot. I told her we shouldn’t—no, demanded we not get involved, and now I can hardly remember how to speak when I’m in the same room as her.

  “Hey,” I say with a quick smile. I force myself to turn back to the cards and lay a hand down. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. My eyes don’t want to leave her. It’s not enough to play these little games together, to have her popping in and out of my life. I want more.

  And that terrifies me. After all, I just booked my flight to take me back to Minnesota in two days. I shouldn’t have called her over with the pizzas, but I needed to see her one more time before I leave the state. I won’t be in Los Angeles again until after my brother’s wedding.

  Lawrence and Lilia are getting married in the Cities, so these are my last few days to make sure Andi knows how I feel about her, knows I want her to be there, by my side, at Lawrence’s wedding. Even better? I want to make it very, very clear that I think this friendship shit is overrated. I want her, in my bed, as soon as possible.

  But I suppose it’s too late for that. Maybe we’re already friends.

  “Take a seat,” I say with a smile, and she moves hesitantly across the room. “We’ve got Mo, Brad, Dick—all of them agents. Nicky and Archer play for the LA Lightning,” he says, gesturing to a few big, burly dudes who also have shaggy hair. Only the agents are clean cut and dressed in suits. “You already know Lawrence and Lilia.”

  Andi nods to them all. “I’m Andi,” she says with a shy smile. “I’m your delivery girl.”

  Something about the way she says it is adorable, and the guys break into laughter. She’s been welcomed into the gang, and they deal her into the next hand.

  Her eyes focus on the cards so thoroughly, I wonder if she even notices my presence. Finally, once it’s Brad’s turn and he’s sitting over there picking his nose, wondering what those numbers are on his cards, I turn to her. “Thanks for coming,” I say. “I hope you don’t mind that I made you drive over here.”