by Violet Duke
Now he had to corner Quinn and find out what the hell was going on.
* * * * *
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, armed with all the information regarding the videotaping, and Quinn at his side, Luke walked up to the roof deck of Ocotillos for his meeting with Dani.
The moment he saw her, he took note of two things. One, Dani could light up the room when she laughed. And two, the gritty, tatted-up musician that sang there regularly—the one currently hugging Dani and tickling her ribs mercilessly—had just become the first person Luke had ever felt compelled to punch in the face in greeting.
“Are we early for our meeting, Ms. Dobson?” asked Luke with biting formality.
Dani gave him a strange look. “No, actually, you’re on time. Rylan here was just finishing up a sound check with the new equipment for tomorrow night. I’ll be right with you.”
When Dani turned to exchange a few more hushed words with ‘Rylan’ before smiling sweetly at the way too comfortable kiss he dropped on her cheek, Luke bristled again.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Quinn smacked him. “Those two are obviously just friends. Guys like that will kiss anything with legs and mean nothing by it.”
Luke practically swallowed his tongue in surprise. Quinn never commented about men—good, bad, or otherwise. Moreover, she certainly didn’t look at them the way she was looking at this Rylan guy.
And that was nothing compared to how Rylan was looking at her.
From where he stood on stage, Rylan was eating Quinn up with his eyes, gazing at her with such intensity, she eventually shifted her attention to an invisible piece of lint on her skirt.
At that point, Luke did notice that the way Rylan regarded Quinn was vastly different from the brotherly way he treated Dani. The sharp contrast finally helped Luke unclench his jaw and take a seat, removing his inner neaderthal—who he rarely saw—from the helm.
A few minutes later, Dani moved into the seat across from him at the table, deleting the smile she’d had while talking to Rylan before wrapping the regal business-Danica cloak around herself.
“Hello, Mr. Bradford.” She nodded at him before turning to address Quinn. “I’m sorry. I was understandably upset yesterday so I didn’t get your name.”
Quinn shook Dani’s hand. “Quinn Christiansen.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Luke noticed that Rylan was still standing on the side, continuing to watch Quinn with more than just idle interest. Quinn clearly noticed as well, and couldn’t seem to stop herself from sneaking covert mini-glimpses at him, while absently tapping her pen on the table each time.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Quinn hated when people did that.
By then, Luke didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement. Lord, this was rich. Quinn had the hots for a tatted-up musician. Loudly, Luke cleared his throat in such a way that even a blind man would see the laughter behind it. Then, he reached over to pluck the noisy pen from her fingers and pat her arm with evil brother sympathy.
It was a grown-up ha-ha-I-know-your-secret.
Quinn turned bright crimson.
Now that just made Luke turn fully and stare. It was quite a sight. He’d always thought Quinn could’ve been cast as one of the Lord of the Rings elfin maidens. As such, seeing her flush all the way to her pale blond roots was, well, like seeing one of those ethereal elves turn beet red.
“Something you two want to share with the class, Mr. Bradford?” asked Dani frostily, having been excluded from the silent exchange between Luke and Quinn for about a minute now.
He blinked. Dani’s voice had gained a hard edge to it, laced with venom. It crackled with currents driving close to the unprofessional border, completely different from the warm, melodic voice he’d had on replay in his head since the night they’d first met.
Well, well, so jealousy wasn’t an ailment that was singularly afflicting him.
“My apologies, Ms. Dobson. It was an innocent private joke, I assure you.” He watched her stubborn chin refuse to budge an inch. Well shoot, he wasn’t racking up negative points with Dani just because Quinn was lusting after Rylan. “If you’re under the impression that I’m solely responsible for Ms. Christiansen’s current state of embarrassment, please direct some of that blame to your musician back there who has been undressing her with his eyes for the last five minutes.”
A choking sound mingling mortification with unholy hostility ripped out of Quinn.
Dani’s lips twitched as she averted her now-understanding eyes.
Oh, that was nice. Even cool, I-collect-balls-for-trophies Danica Dobson didn’t want to embarrass Quinn any further.
That prompted Luke to reel in his torture line as well. He patted Quinn’s hand again, this time to call a truce...for now. He was nowhere near done teasing Quinn though. Not when she had a ten-year head start of annoying sisterly behavior under her belt.
While Quinn continued to glare at him, Luke flashed Dani a friendly smile. “Why don’t we start again? Quinn and I would like to apologize for filming without your consent yesterday, and take this opportunity to explain our ad campaign.”
He spent a few minutes going over the Valentine’s and White Chocolate Day marketing angle, quickly highlighting the major points. “So you see,” he concluded, “Quinn here was simply interviewing the twenty- and thirty- something year-olds because they are our target audience for these ads, not because we’re targeting Ocotillos.”
Dani’s smile showed all teeth. “What you don’t get, Mr. Bradford, is that saying things like, ‘Oh no, do you think you’re going to be stuck here with the guys for Valentine’s or do you think your girlfriend will forgive you in time?’ does target my business by turning us into the anti-Valentine place to be. Quinn is basically implying that if you’re too much of a loser to have a Valentine date on this oh-so-precious holiday, you’re probably going to be at Ocotillos!”
Quinn’s eyes bulged, appalled as she swiveled her shocked gaze to Luke. “I don’t even remember saying that part. I swear, if I did, it was just when I was joking with the guys to get them to open up more.”
She swung her eyes back to Dani. “Until now, I hadn’t really thought about how an exchange like that would sound from your point of view. I am deeply, deeply sorry. I will of course edit that part out of the video completely, and refrain from saying anything like that again in any of my future interviews.”
“As I said yesterday,” sighed Dani. “I know you don’t mean any harm. But, it’s inevitable that my business and other pubs or bars are going to be portrayed negatively in this idealistic ad campaign of yours. From what you’ve explained, you’re establishing a very clear definition for the ‘perfect’ Valentine date and you’re contrasting it to the nightlife, what you consider the antithesis of romance.” Her lips tightened. “The two are not mutually exclusive.”
Luke leaned back and let his cocky, business-savvy alter ego make a guest appearance. “Ms. Dobson, are you suggesting that for our first date, you’d find it more romantic if we hung out at some bar as opposed to a night in front of a warm fireplace, enjoying a great meal I cooked for you? You must admit, the two scenarios are quite distant on the romance scale.”
Dani’s eyes blistered in annoyance. Undoubtedly because he’d crossed their professional and personal lives together yet again. “That depends, Mr. Bradford. Are you asking me for market research purposes, or to get ideas on how to best get in my pants? With you, it’s hard to tell.”
Even Quinn flinched at that.
If Luke wasn’t so turned on by watching Dani practically spark with fiery attitude, he’d probably have been more irritated at the verbal kick to his shins. Instead, he just arched a brow. “Now Dani, if this is how we’re going to play, why don’t we excuse Quinn from the table?”
Quinn was more than happy to oblige. She quickly exited her seat and moved over to the side, just out of the blast zone, watching like a bystander of a scheduled construction explosion.
Luke leaned
in closer to Dani. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“Hmmm, would I rather suffer through a cliché date built on your lame, antiquated views of romance or go out and have some fun? Gee, tough choice there.”
“Right. Because you prefer making out with strangers in storage rooms,” he shot back, stung by her words.
“You asshole!” Dani shot out of her seat, shoving away from the table.
Luke swore and clamped his hand over hers to prevent her from stomping off. “Dani, stop. I’m sorry; that came out wrong.”
“How the hell did you intend it to come out?”
“I just meant that it isn’t exactly romantic when we’re forced to steal a few quick kisses while hiding in a dark room with people nosing around outside.”
“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?” she asked silkily, inching so close he could feel her breath floating across the collar of his shirt. “Are you saying that you aren’t wanting to feel me up against that storeroom wall again right now?” She slid a light hand down his arm in an outwardly innocent act that made his heart rate double. “Wasn’t it the least bit memorable?”
He circled around her lightning quick, stamping both hands on the table, one on either side of her, caging her in. “You damn well know the answers to those questions. And you know we share the same answers.” With a quick sidelong glance at the small audience that was starting to eavesdrop openly around them, he added quietly, “But that isn’t romance.”
Dani shrugged impassively. “Then we’ll agree to disagree. I thought it was romantic.”
“Sweetheart, I mean real romance. All the good parts leading up to the fire—the kindling, the sparks, the maddening slow burn. That feeling of being swept off your feet?”
“Like I said,” she repeated quietly, defensively.
Luke’s eyes widened in surprise. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Hot, possessive. “Are you saying that so far, I’ve been the most romantic guy in your life?”
“Mr. Bradford, we’re getting very off-track from the goals of our meeting.”
“Screw the goals of our meeting. I’m looking at a different set of goals here.” He slid his hands on her shoulders, eyes gentling with his voice, now low and tender. “Haven’t you ever been romanced, Dani? Or were the men from your past relationships all total idiots?”
Her glare turned proud. “Get off your high horse; not every girl wants the white picket fence. I don’t believe in fairytale romance and I don’t do relationships. So no, the guys I date aren’t idiots. Quite the opposite. They’re smart enough not to try your kind of romance on me.”
“Then consider me the inaugural dumbass who will,” he growled lightly. “I’m not cheating us out of all that comes with a relationship, sweetheart—the falling, hard and fast, without that invisible safety net you keep around you. Ready or not, my kind of romance is exactly what you’re going to get.”
He was pushing her. A burst of wild rebellion eclipsed her eyes and he knew the instant she’d decided to pick up the gauntlet he’d thrown. Her fierce gaze flash-cooled to a fired bronze so charged, so stunning, he felt punched in the gut by it.
“By all means, feel free to try and take a swing at that impossible pitch,” she fired back with a measured calm that soon unraveled into a slow, deliberate smile.
Uh oh.
“Who knows? Arguing with you could be fun. I hear great things about make-up sex.”
His neck muscles corded at the thought.
“As long as you know the score,” she warned, armed crossed stubbornly.
Of course he knew the score—how else was he supposed to change it?
“You’ve made it abundantly clear,” he replied drily.
“Well then,” she tossed him a look just this side of dangerous, “while you’re attempting to school me in your Desert Confections variety of romance, I guess I can take the time to show you how folks would have way more memorable connections without all your stuffy rules.”
Instantly, the DNA in his Y chromosome went on high alert, reacting to her very female goading. “What exactly are we talking here, honey? You bringing our businesses into this too?”
“Just following your lead, honey. You made that bed—you prepared to lie in it?”
“Are you?” His blood pressure spiked at the double meaning possibilities.
Now her eyes were really dancing. “Okay, smart guy. You do your little romance campaign for Desert Confections—whatever you want to do, however you want it. And I’ll start one of my own for Ocotillos. We can have a town vote to see which of us ends up on top.”
With all her words sounding decidedly sex inspired to his lust-hazed mind, it took Luke a few beats to realize she’d just issued a throwdown. “Are you serious?” He jerked back to study her face. “You want to pit your brewpub against my chocolate shop? In the arena of romance?”
“You bet. You sell it your way; I’ll sell it mine. We’ll go to Valentine’s Day.”
“You’re on.” Luke’s grin turned positively wolfish. “I gotta say, I’ve never been more motivated to end up ‘on top’ on Valentine’s Day.”
“You make it sound so dirty.” The slow roaming glance she slid over him was far from disapproving. “And here I thought you were such a tame gentleman the night we met.”
For an unromantic suffering a dry spell, hot damn, the minx could do seduction just fine.
He didn’t rise to the bait though. “I don’t know about tame, but I am a gentleman. Outside the context of this little wager, I fully intend for you and I to take turns being on top, sweetheart.”
Mentally girding his loins, Luke expected Dani to fricassee him with one of her token smart-ass replies. But when she instead just stood there at an utter loss for words, he knew he’d just taken her brain on a field trip her hitched breathing said she was enjoying.
Hell yeah—chalk one point up for him.
She snapped out of it an instant later, however, and the sexiest bedroom eyes he’d ever seen hardened to a glare of annoyance at the satisfaction in his grin.
“Shame only the loser will be kneeling for his,” she flicked her eyes down his frame, “comeuppance.” Leaning in close, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “My idea of romance would dictate we take turns at that, too.”
He almost fell to his knees right there. Then of course she just had to do that ball-busting signature walkout of hers, leaving him to stare hotly after her to try and get his pulse to stop racing away with his imagination.
A rough sigh shot out of him as he checked the score.
Okay, that was definitely one point for Dani.
One second later, his phone beeped.
A text from Dani.
Hell, he hadn’t even seen her using her phone. Then again, his eyes had been glued a little farther south from her hands thanks to that sexy strut of her.
>> TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION EARLIER, YES, I WOULD PREFER WE HANG OUT AT ‘SOME BAR’ INSTEAD OF YOUR FIREPLACE.
He winced and chose his return text carefully.
>> DOES THIS MEAN WE’RE STILL ON FOR OUR DATE? SHOULD I WEAR PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT?
>> HONESTLY, I DON’T THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA ANYMORE. BUT I’M WILLING TO DISCUSS IT WITHOUT ALL THESE PRYING EYES.
Another beep.
>> AND YES, PROTECTIVE GEAR WOULD BE WISE.
Chuckling quietly, he texted back with a grin.
>> YOU KNOW I’M GOING TO BRING MY A-GAME TO WEAR YOU DOWN, RIGHT?
>> COUNTING ON IT. LOOKING FORWARD TO IT, IN FACT.
Damn, the woman was a walking dare wrapped in a taunting red ribbon. And he just couldn’t get enough of her. After a promise to call her later, he pocketed his phone and thought about the throwdown they had somehow managed to shove each other into. By far the strangest start to a new relationship he’d ever encountered.
And he had a sneaking suspicion it was going to go down as his last.
* * * * *
DANI GRINNED, feeling Luke’s ey
es follow her as she pocketed her phone and made her way down the stairwell. This was going to be fun. As far as new neighbors went, Luke was certainly turning out to be—
That’s when she nearly toppled headfirst down the steps as one tiny, extremely tardy detail came crashing down on her.
Luke was the owner of the chocolate shop next door.
The one she’d basically thrown under the bus yesterday.
-- End of Prequel --
LOVE, CHOCOLATE, AND BEER
A CACTUS CREEK NOVEL
CHAPTER ONE
“THE CAVE WHERE romance goes into hibernation!”
Dani Dobson practically spewed the water she’d been sipping on all over her computer screen as she repeated the insulting description of her brewpub—or ‘beer joint’ as it had been so asininely referenced in the article. “Holy shit, now the man is deliberately trying to piss me off,” she muttered to herself as she quickly scanned the rest of the feature piece about tomorrow’s grand opening of the town’s new chocolate shop.
Written by the aggravating shop owner himself.
“Is that the article on Desert Confections?” came a gum-snapping voice from the open doorway.
“Yes,” grumbled Dani, glancing up at her best bartender, surprised—and peeved—to find amusement on her friend’s face. “Why the heck are you smiling? Xoey, he’s skewering us in this article.” The fact that he’d somehow managed to sweet-talk his way into not just answering interview questions for the town paper, but rather, writing the short editorial piece as this month’s ‘welcome-the-newest-member-to-our-town guest writer’ grated on her nerves even more. Mostly because it was pretty damn good. And because the town paper didn’t allow guest writers.
Xoey planted herself in the comfy corner chair and propped her feet up on Dani’s bookshelf, immediately leaning back to tip the chair onto its hind legs as she replied with a shrug, “Actually, I thought it was pretty tame, considering.”
