Hot Summer Nights

by Lisa Marie Perry

  When she entered the Pearl, she was carried back to the past to the moment she’d first unofficially met Geoffrey. The memory shattered quickly because things were so much different now. He was just as scrumptious now as he had been the day he’d pushed open the kitchen doors and put her on the defensive, but now they knew each other and for the first time they weren’t sneaking around.

  As if he had radar on her, he lifted his head and turned to her. A slow smile spread across his mouth but didn’t quite reach his intense dark eyes.

  She joined him at a table. A moment later Jonah set a glass of wine in front of her and said, “Compliments of the gentleman sitting across from you.”

  Geoffrey glanced at his watch. “Didn’t expect you for another twenty minutes.” His gaze casually cruised over her and the appreciative gleam in his eyes gave hope that her expensive designer dress was worth the splurge.

  “I figured I’d get here a bit early to, ah, get my bearings.”

  “Or to check on your staff?”

  “Maybe that, too.”

  He laughed, and looked too damned good. “You’re full of surprises. I like that.”

  Gabrielle eyed him skeptically. Wow, he was being awfully candid and honest and sweet. The cynic in her wondered how he’d become quite so relaxed when usually there was silky yet unbreakable tension surrounding him. Was he that relieved that they didn’t have to sneak around anymore? Or had he let tonight be a night for drinking? Before she could guess, his cell phone rang and he eased away from the table.

  “I need to take this call,” he told her. “Damage control. Order what you want and I’ll be back in a bit.”

  As he strode away, she surrendered to the naughty urge to stare at his ass. Great butt, magnificent abs, sexy face and hands that knew how to control her like a marionette. If the combo belonged to anyone but a Belleza guest, she’d have had the thrill of her life by now.

  The atmosphere around her was elegant yet comfortable. People were seated at the beautifully set tables, and soft music wafted down from the intercoms. Glancing around for Geoffrey, she murmured, “Oh, what the hell?” and got up.

  In the kitchen, one of the line cooks said, “She’s here! It’s under fifteen minutes. Give me my money.”

  “What? Y’all were betting how long it’d be before I came into the kitchen?” she asked.

  The kitchen erupted in laughter, and though she was the ass of the joke, she didn’t mind all that much. They all knew her, and she knew them. It made her feel sorry to even attempt to suspect any of them of trying to sabotage the Belleza.

  How could any of these people be responsible for intentionally harming one of their own?

  The doors opened and Stu came in. “Chef Royce, you should know that instead of babysitting us, you should be worrying about your date. Hostess Hottie just brought a bottle of bubbly to your table and is taking the liberty of having a glass with him.”

  Charlene? What was the woman thinking? Maybe Jonah had been right about her when he’d called her aggressive.

  “Thanks for keeping Geoffrey company while I checked on things, Charlene,” Gabrielle said brightly, not wanting to come off as a wild-eyed lioness defending what was hers.

  Charlene fluffed her golden curls. “He said you two were on a date and, forgive me, I didn’t right off find that true, because… I mean… My mistake, Gabs.”

  “Char? Popping up in front of this man every time my back is turned, that’s not cool. I’m asking you once to stop.”

  “Fine.” The woman’s eyes snapped envy for a moment, but as she stood, she said, “We should hang out in LA sometime. I told Geoffrey that my friends and I have a singing gig at a club. You should come. Bring him.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

  “Have a good time.” Charlene bounced off, sneering at the bartender on her way to the hostess desk.

  Geoffrey waited for Gabrielle to take her seat before he said, “Saw what she did there?”

  “You mean how she was blatantly making a move on you then she got a stank attitude with me then she acted like we’re friends who can just go to LA clubs and hang out?”

  “Not any club.”

  “The one where she and her friends sing. And she suggested that I bring you.” That wasn’t quite aggression or ambition. It was aggressive ambition. “Do you want to go someplace else?”

  “As tempting as it sounds to get you someplace where you won’t be running to the kitchen to check on things, I’m good with staying here. It reminds me of that first day, when you hesitated before you even sat down and tasted the sauvignon blanc.”

  “When I offered the wine, I didn’t know about your issues with alcohol.”

  “I’m thinking tonight I can ease up on those issues. You enjoy wine and I’m going to share that with you.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

  “I’m offering. It’s my hang-up and it doesn’t control me.”

  Gabrielle watched him order bourbon and she ordered the same. She appreciated alcohol, but didn’t know how he’d fare, being a lightweight. It’d be too easy to overestimate what he could handle. And the fact that he was starting in heavy before they’d even begun eating rang all sorts of warning bells.

  When they ordered their meals, he still seemed sober. But by the time the food had arrived, he was on his third bourbon and she was wondering if they’d end the night with her calling him a cab or waiting embarrassed at the table while he got sick in the restroom. Imagine that publicity.

  Haunted Resort’s Chef Gets Music God Wasted.

  “Waiter, another bourbon, please,” he requested in a tone that sounded more like a heated demand. His eyes landed on her. “You’re not drinking. Why not?”

  Because we can’t both be shit-faced drunk. “I’m not very thirsty,” she replied. The waiter approached with a carafe of coffee and a mug. At least she wasn’t worried about Geoffrey’s blood alcohol level. “But you obviously are.”

  “I’m not thirsty. I think I had too much,” he said openly.

  “That’s why Jonah brought coffee.”

  “Jonah. Nice old guy. Slick as hell. He set us up. My order. He took the order and made it so we’d meet.”

  Gabrielle turned toward the bar, where Jonah Grady was too slow to play off that he was watching them. So nice old guy was Cupid in disguise. She never in her kookiest dreams would have guessed.

  “How do you feel about being manipulated that way?” she asked.

  “Thankful.”

  She had dealt with a few drunk friends and some even drunker strangers in her time, but none had been so open and honest.

  “We never talked about your family,” he said.

  “I’m not doing this.” Chin up, mouth firm and eyes level to silently say “I mean business,” Gabrielle tried not to think about the people in her past who wanted part of her present and were only interested in controlling her future.

  But persistence, charm and intimidation made Geoffrey someone virtually impossible to say no to.

  She could attest to that. How else had she gone from being irked by him to wanting to slip her underwear into his pocket? She didn’t know him, and yet he could turn her on like a switch.

  When she had realized that others had sought her out not because they wanted to see her but because they wanted to pump her for information about her family instead, she’d told them flat-out to hitchhike to hell and then locked herself in her house. Now, seeing that Geoffrey refused to be brushed off and didn’t seem to be interested in personal gain, she wasn’t with very many options.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I want to know because I’d like to know you better. I’m asking you because I didn’t look you up on Google to take a shortcut into your life. You seem to agree that a little research is sometimes required to get the job done.” He lifted a shoulder in a lazy half shrug and settled his eyes on hers.

  “Oh.”

  No elaboration followed.


  Since he didn’t seem particularly concerned with her current career options, she said, “So what does this dinner have to do with where I come from? I feel as though you’re flirting with me. But are you deceiving me instead?”

  It didn’t seem possible, but she’d swear she saw his eyes darken further. “I don’t have an angle with you.”

  A shadowed, reluctant corner inside her wasn’t convinced, but she nodded.

  “There’s not much to talk about. I told you about my grandmother May and how she gave me the money to pursue cooking school. And there are other people, my parents and brothers, but they didn’t exactly support my career path. We don’t have to get bogged down with those details.” At any rate, he’d wake up in the morning feeling as if there was a party going on in his head and wouldn’t remember what they talked about tonight.

  “You’re holding something back,” he accused, his brows furrowing. “It’s all right, though. More for me to discover myself. I want to get to know you bits at a time.” He suddenly stood. “I want to get outta here. Can’t take my car. I need a ride.” He swayed and she leaped up to steady him. His hand splayed against her waist and his face lowered. “Oh, you smell really good. You smell like an invitation.”

  She blinked. “An invitation for what?”

  “Sex.”

  Her blood flowed with arousal. For an instant she wanted to meet his lips, but she opted not to. “Why don’t you spend the night here at the Belleza? Sit here—don’t have any more drinks—and I’ll get you a room.”

  He didn’t resist, but trusted her to discreetly set him up in a room. He handed her his keys and left a tip on the table before they left the restaurant. In the parking lot, he was starting to droop beside her. She braced an arm around his middle and tugged him along. “In you go,” she said, assisting him into his car with less finesse than she’d hoped. She thought she heard his head bang against the roof on the way in, and stopped to check him out. “You okay?” she asked, hopping in and turning the key in the ignition.

  “Yeah.”

  She let him crank up the radio as she drove to the cottage she’d pulled strings to rent for him. When she ushered him inside, she said, triumphantly, “Home.”

  “Wait, this isn’t home.”

  “It is for tonight.”

  “The date. I made a disaster of it.”

  “Are we calling it a date?”

  “Jonah said it’s a date.”

  “Geoffrey, I get what you were trying to do. You were trying to share my relationship with alcohol. It doesn’t affect every person the same. We can’t tolerate it the same way. But I don’t want you to think you have to change yourself for me. That wouldn’t be fair to you or to me.”

  “You’re not pissed?”

  “No. You’re kind of sweet when you’re like this, but I prefer you sober and intense. I prefer you as you are. So if you don’t want to drink, don’t.” She touched his face. “Your head is going to ache so much tomorrow.”

  “It’s already starting. Did we bring any of that coffee?”

  “Uh-uh, but I’ll fix some before I leave.”

  He was already walking toward the bedroom, already undressing. “Can you stay?”

  “No, I can’t.” She went to the bedroom, peeled back a corner of the soft comforter and fluffed the pillows. The gigantic four-poster bed looked so inviting that she would’ve liked to tumble onto it. With him.

  “You deserve a perfect date. I’m going to give you that one day.”

  “Worry about getting some rest and coffee. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her back was to him but she heard him shuffle across the room toward her. Then she felt his hands lightly caress the length of her bare back and knew that they were both beckoning disaster. He interlaced his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips. “I’m drunk, right? I’ve never been drunk before.”

  “I first got drunk at a party when I was nineteen. I woke up in somebody’s closet with a soccer ball under my head. I found out what my limit was and I never go past that. I get close and I get loose, but it’s important to stay in control.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “We’ll talk about it another time,” she told him, and steered him to the bed. “Call me if you need anything.” As he fell asleep, she lowered to the bed and threaded her fingers through his hair.

  Feeling like a child giving up a piece of coveted candy, she rose and quietly left his house.

  Chapter 9

  When Kimberly and Robyn had noticed Gabrielle was home—alone—early from her date, she told them that something had come up for Geoffrey and she had work to do anyway if the signature dessert was going to be perfected in time for the Dunham Foundation gala. Satisfied with that, they’d left her alone.

  She got up early the next morning to squeeze in a hot yoga session with the ladies at the Belleza’s gym, then she showered and arrived at Geoffrey’s emergency cottage armed with a thermos filled with steaming coffee and a plate of blueberry muffins.

  Geoffrey greeted her at the door clad only in the pants he’d worn to dinner last night. His face was unshaven, and his eyes weary. The angry set of his mouth softened into a surprised smile when he saw her. “Gabrielle…what are you doing here?”

  “I said I’d check on you, but I’m not surprised that you don’t remember. Your car is here. I had the resort valet drive me back to get mine.”

  “Thing is, I remember everything. I wish I hadn’t overdone it on the bourbon.” He pushed the door open wider and paused to give her an approving once-over. Today she wore a gray rayon sundress and matching sweater. On her feet were dressy sandals. “Is that outfit new?”

  “Nope, but I’ve been a lazy girl in the laundry department, so I’m low on pieces to complete my ‘grunge-chic’ look.”

  “You’re…”

  “What?” she challenged.

  Not backing down, he snared her gaze. “Sexy. You look completely sexy. C’mon in.”

  Floating on a cloud of flattery, she followed him inside and enjoyed the view of his bare back. What a wonderful, muscular back. If she was a cartoon, her tongue would be rolling out onto the floor right now. “Uh, I brought you breakfast. Nothing spectacular, just muffins and coffee. I imagine you really just want the coffee.”

  “Thankfully I don’t have a killer hangover.”

  “Are you planning to go back to the Hills right away?”

  “Around noon. My assistant and I need to get in contact with a few publicists. There’s something happening at the company. Somebody’s trying to poach on our talent.”

  When they arrived in the living room, he turned to accept the food. “Sorry about last night. What you said was spot-on. It doesn’t help either of us to force a change. Go ahead and have a seat on the couch and I’ll grab some dishes.”

  She took the opportunity to look around. The cottage had large rooms and plenty of windows. Even a sunroom. The living room was in slight disarray. She could tell from the bottle of aspirin and his phone on the table that he’d been busy with work before she arrived.

  The guy didn’t even slow down to adequately sleep off a hangover.

  She walked through the spacious, sunny living room to an even sunnier kitchen. There were top-of-the-line appliances, and attractive stainless steel sinks and faucets complemented the cream-colored walls and slate-colored marble topped counters. But the beauty of the room was secondary to the yummy man standing at the counter arranging the muffins on a plate. “Need a hand?” she offered.

  “You’ve done enough,” he told her. “Thanks for dealing with me.”

  “You weren’t too tough to deal with. You were actually very sweet.”

  “You were sexy and someone I was thankful for.”

  She wondered if he’d backpedal on what he’d said to her last night. But here he was, sober, and still sticking to his story. She watched him suddenly hesitate as if debating, then he crossed the room to her, slid his hands lightly up her arms to
frame her face in his hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  The streaming sunshine glowed over the sharp contours of his face. His mouth curved into a frown and his eyes fiercely searched hers. “Do I need to answer that in words?”

  His head moved toward hers.

  A shiver rocked through her as his hands moved up the sides of her face and his thumb rubbed over her lips.

  Gabrielle splayed her fingers through his hair. With his chest rising and falling so close to her, she felt his warmth. Then his lips landed on her throat.

  “Gabrielle…”

  “I think now it’s okay for you to call me Gabby.”

  In response, she tilted her face upward a fraction and sighed to take the kiss. His mouth softly tested hers. Then he deepened the kiss as his tongue coaxed her lips open farther to touch her tongue. The electricity of the intimate encounter washed away any remnants of his hesitation.

  When he dropped back, she felt disoriented and on fire. Her arms encircled his waist and his shallow, uneven breath whistled in her hair. “What’d I do to deserve kisses?”

  His arms looped around her waist and his hands cupped her shoulder blades to draw her even closer. “You could’ve let me make a complete ass of myself at the Pearl, but you didn’t. You’re a good person.” He rubbed his lips over hers before peppering soft, sweet kisses over her closed eyelids then to her temple, and then releasing her. “Thanks.”

  Dazed with lust, Gabrielle barely nodded. She hadn’t come here expecting this, but now that he seemed to be done arousing her silly, she felt deprived and let down. Inhaling deeply, she hoped that a few cleansing breaths would cool the fire kindling at the apex of her thighs.

  “Who’s manning the restaurant now?”

  “Competent people. Just because I tend to micromanage things doesn’t mean I don’t trust my staff. I’m not turning any of them into management and accusing them of trying to make our company implode.”