Bachelorette for Sale

by Gail Chianese

  They talked about bad dining experiences as they ate and laughed. She told him about one guy she dated who would never take her anywhere except McDonald’s and another who took her to a new fad restaurant where everything was supposedly health food and she’d sworn the so-called salad was really cut grass. He told her about one date who begged to go to a French restaurant in Boston, proceeded to order escargot, and couldn’t understand why they tasted like dirt.

  “I tried one,” he said. “I’ll try almost anything at least once, and yeah, they tasted like dirt and slime.”

  “Okay, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten, other than snails?” Cherry scooped up another bite of the delicious dish.

  He thought about it, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’m not sure if it’s weird or not, but definitely questionable. The guys and I took a trip to Thailand once, and none of us spoke the language. We ordered a bunch of stuff including what I think and hoped was pork. I asked the waitress how to say pork in Thai and she said ‘meow.’ I repeated the question and she nodded and said ‘meow’ and pointed to my dish.”

  “Oh, no, you ate a kitty?” Cherry’s hand flew to her mouth, pretending she was going to lose her dinner.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny. However, I did draw the line at the baby octopus that was still alive and moving around the plate.” With his fingers, he did a little imitation of the thing flipping around on the table.

  Cherry couldn’t help laughing.

  “That is so wrong.”

  The conversation flowed easily and effortlessly, making Cherry forget why they were on the date. She found herself charmed by his smile, quick sense of humor, and ability to laugh at himself as well as the way his eyes focused on her instead of searching the room for a better view. They could have been the only people in the universe.

  “I’m really glad David won the bidding,” Jason said.

  “Me too.”

  A shadow fell over the table to interrupt the moment. She looked up, not surprised to find Jorge standing next to her.

  “I see you ate your dinner. You obviously liked it.”

  “It was okay. I’ve had better.”

  He sneered. “What do you mean it was okay? Where have you had better?” Such arrogance—the man really did think he was a culinary god gifted to the mortal world and they should all bow down.

  Without batting an eye or missing a beat, she hit him below the belt. “Taco Bell.”

  A string of Spanish flew out so fast from Jorge that Cherry couldn’t even follow what he was saying. His hands were up and down and back and forth, and it really took all of Cherry’s willpower not to burst out laughing and give herself away.

  “I don’t believe you,” he spouted. “That was my mama’s recipe.”

  “What can I say?” she said, feigning confusion. “You blew it, changed it, or left something out because if she’d made it, it would have tasted divine.”

  He squinted at her, his hands fisted on his hips, nostrils flared, and she lost it. Laughter erupted from the depths of her gut. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face. It’s all red and scrunched up,” she gasped out between chuckles. “Jason, meet Jorge, or as we call him at home, George—Tawny’s oldest brother. Wow, I really got you that time.”

  The guys shook hands. “Little sisters,” George said. “They grow up, but are still a pain in your rear, if you know what I mean.”

  “George Torres?” Jason asked. When George nodded, he followed up. “Did you play wide receiver in high school for Central, about fifteen or so years ago?”

  “That would be me. Did you play?”

  “I was three years behind you, along with my buddies, Dave Farber and Brody Nichols. Last name’s Valentine.”

  A smile spread across George’s face. “I remember. Now you’re here with our Cherry, small world.” George’s stance widened, arms crossed, all team rah-rah gone, and in its place stood the overprotective big brother.

  Jason relaxed his shoulders and slouched back a little in his chair, hands resting on the table, palms up. “We met at the charity event for the rec center.”

  George looked from Jason to Cherry and back to Jason, some kind of lightbulb clicking on in his head.

  “So you’re the one who saved her from the lecherous old guy.” He reached out and clasped hands with Jason. “I appreciate it, man. You probably saved me a trip to the slammer because, Lord knows, I would have killed that guy. Hey, I’ve got to get back to my kitchen. Good to see you. Enjoy your night and take care of my little sister.” He squeezed Cherry’s shoulder before he disappeared behind the kitchen door.

  Great, first decent date in ages and her big brother shows up. Chances of Jason putting the moves on her now? Slim to no way in this lifetime. What a shame, as he really did have an amazing mouth, one that was made to kiss a woman breathless, she was sure of it. And to feel those strong hands on her again. Oh, mama mia. She needed some air.

  Jason was so dead. His best friend had signed the execution order and the schmuck didn’t even know it. Maybe if he killed Dave first and blamed the idea on his buddy, they’d let him live? He had no doubt that if he didn’t handle tonight correctly and Cherry got hurt, he’d have the entire Torres family on his doorstep. One more complication he didn’t need. He’d walked into tonight expecting one person and found someone totally different waiting for him.

  He needed to clear the air, to come clean and tell her why he was really there. He had every intention to tell her at the start of dinner, but he’d been late. Not to mention he wasn’t the type who went around kicking puppies, and she’d had that lost puppy look standing in front of the fountain making her wish. So he waited. Then the accusation. He couldn’t tell her then—not unless he wanted her drink in his face.

  So why not now, Cupid?

  Things between them were good. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do.

  As much as he hated to admit it, he liked Cherry. She was fun, intelligent and had a wicked sense of humor. For the first time in longer than he wanted to remember he had enjoyed himself on a date without worrying about what the woman thought of his background or his job or if he measured up.

  Keeping it from her is wrong.

  “Would you like to get out of here and take a walk? There’s a little café on the back side of the square that serves the most amazing cannoli and espresso. I can also promise no overbearing big brothers who spy through the kitchen doors.”

  He followed her gaze in time to catch a glimpse of George slipping back into the kitchen. A niggling in the back of his brain told him no matter how he played this, he’d soon be a corpse. Might as well live a little and enjoy the evening with Cherry before her adopted brothers pounded him into the pavement.

  She stood, and for the first time he noticed what she was wearing. Hard not to when his heart stopped beating and his jaw hung slack. The shirt, blouse, whatever you called it was one of those drapey things in a deep ocean blue, like the rims around her eyes. Sitting, it had been loose. Conservative. Standing, the material stretched to mold perfectly to her breasts, sending all the blood in his body rushing south. And as if that wasn’t enough to drive a man crazy, black jeans hugged the curves of her hips, begging him to run his hands down and explore.

  Cold air would be good. Even better would be a cold shower or a dunk in the icy Atlantic.

  A romantic entanglement with the woman he hoped to be working for shortly was neither what his company needed nor the goal of tonight, no matter what his pal said. The goal—in his mind—was to get her to see he was a decent guy, maybe like him a little, so when the time came for her to vote she’d cast her ballot for Valentine Rehab and convince her friends to do so as well. Sleeping with the boss never turned out well for anyone.

  He had to tell her now. Or as soon as they were away from prying eyes.

  He pushed the front door open for her and they stepped outside into the cool night air. A few people passed by on the sidewalk, but the waiting crowds were
gone.

  “Are you thinking of Pastiche Desserts?” Jason asked.

  Cherry nodded and he led the way toward the piazza. Quickly they cut through the area, and turned the corner. There wasn’t a line out the door like there usually was during the summer, but inside the shop most of the tables were taken. “Do you mind if we grab our coffee and desserts to go? It’s kind of stuffy in here.”

  “We could go sit by the fountain.”

  That’d be good. No one had been out dining in the piazza tonight, with it being late winter and midweek. He’d have a chance to explain without interruptions why his idiot friend had bought this date.

  They grabbed their coffee and bag of pastries and left the shop. A strange noise caught his attention as they made their way to the tables set up by the fountain. Looking around he realized Cherry’s teeth were chattering. It wasn’t that cold, but her blouse was on the thin side. Not that he would complain. He stepped closer to lend her some of his body heat. His hand brushed against hers and he found himself threading his fingers through hers.

  “Are you sure it’s not too cold? I’d offer you my jacket if I had one.” Jason pulled out a chair for her.

  “Actually it feels nice. I was getting a little hot in the restaurant.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Her eyes popped open and Jason realized how his comment sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  She cocked her head to the side, a small frown on her face.

  Crap. “And that didn’t come out right either. Maybe I should shut up and eat my pastry.” What was wrong with him tonight? It’d been a while since his last date. Still, he used to have a little more finesse.

  Cherry reached out and laid her hand softly on top of his. He met her gaze. The look in her two-tone eyes spoke louder than words. She’d been hurt, and he’d make a guess she hadn’t fully recovered.

  “Jason, it’s okay. This isn’t your ordinary date. You don’t have to pretend to feel something when you don’t actually feel it. It’s been a fun night, and that’s way more than I expected.”

  Except he had meant it when he said he had been getting hot in the restaurant, he just didn’t want to admit it and have her thinking (again) that he was a creep. Not to mention he still needed to tell her about his company and the proposal.

  “Hey, let’s toss a coin in the fountain and make a wish. You never know, it may come true.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him over to stand in front of the sculpture. “Remember, you can’t say it out loud or tell anyone or it won’t work.”

  Jason pulled out two quarters, handed one to Cherry, and tossed his into the water. He turned to face her. She stood with her back to the fountain, with her eyes closed and her nose scrunched up, as if she was rejecting wishes. After a few minutes, her mouth turned upward and the coin flew through the air before landing with a plop into the still water. He didn’t know what she had been thinking of; he doubted it was the same wish as earlier. Before she’d looked sad and lost, but this time she looked happy and sexy.

  Action overtook his brain. He slid his hands into her hair, cupping her face between his hands. Her eyes opened slowly and she gazed up at him. She bit down on the corner of her lip and he lost his battle. He kissed the spot she’d bitten first and then tilted his head to get a better angle and dove in. She tasted of coffee and sweet cream. He could stand here for hours lapping her up. She had stepped into the kiss, bringing their bodies into full contact. He scraped his teeth along her jawline, not wanting to stop. Soft purrs came from her throat, urging him to continue. He returned to her sweet, luscious mouth, inhaling the intoxicating floral scent around her.

  He’d once been told by a high school counselor to be careful of addictive substances. Now he knew what the man referred to: Cherry’s kisses.

  Shit. He really couldn’t bring up the center proposal now.

  Chapter Five

  The rush and gurgle of the nearby waterfall filled the air. The breeze blew a light mist that cooled her sun-kissed skin as his hand trailed up her bare thigh. Cherry arched her back, lifting her breasts to meet his hungry mouth. She grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and tugged it up and over his head, tossing the offending article of clothing aside. She wanted skin-to-skin contact. To feel the shift of his muscles under her palms, to play with the light sprinkle of dark hair on his chest. She wanted to do a whole lot more, but the infuriating man insisted on taking his sweet, sweet time.

  He lifted his head, gazing at her with intense blue-green eyes, his mouth tugged up on one side. A small growl escaped from her lips.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starved,” she replied.

  Instead of giving her what she wanted—him—he broke off a piece of dark chocolate and fed it to her.

  “Yum. Not what I meant, though.”

  “Patience, my love.”

  “You drove my patience over the edge at least ten minutes ago.”

  He had the nerve to chuckle before swooping in and slipping his tongue into her open mouth to caress hers. He tasted of chocolate and wine from their picnic. His breathing fell hard and fast, matching hers. She knew he had to be testing his own tolerance level. Proof of his arousal pushed against her hip, and she used it against him as she twisted around until they were lined up.

  He gave her his trademark arrogant look, one brow cocked, lips slightly turned up as if daring her to go on. She returned the look and rotated her hips until his head fell backward and a groan escaped his lips.

  A loud, irritating beep destroyed the calm of the meadow and drowned out the rush of the waterfall. A few seconds later Cherry’s eyes flew open as she shot up in bed, only to fall back to her pillow with a moan. Talk about rotten timing.

  Cherry twirled around in her office chair as she remembered her dream and listened to her friend ramble on about something.

  “No, I’m not listening to you. I’m wishing I were back in my bed, fast asleep.”

  “Was it him?”

  “Know anyone else with blue-green eyes and spiky brown hair? And no, I’m not going to share the details of the dream or last night’s date with you. At least not over the phone.”

  “Come on, that’s so not fair. I’m your BFF. The sister of your heart. I’d share with you,” Tawny said.

  The soft sound of footsteps heading toward her office had Cherry looking up before she said any more. A slow smile spread across her face. Well, well, well. If it wasn’t the object of her fantasy live and in the flesh, looking awfully sexy in his blue chambray button-down shirt and worn jeans.

  “Hey, Tawny, got to go. I’ve got company. See you in an hour.” Cherry hung up the phone and gave Jason her full attention. He’d been on her mind all night (clearly, as evidenced by her dream) and morning (again the dream, and who could forget that amazing kiss last night). “Hi, what a nice surprise. What brings you by? Looking for a new place?”

  “Got a couple of minutes?” He looked back at the outer office before stepping farther into her space.

  “Sure, have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or something cold to drink?” Cherry stood and walked over to her mini-fridge.

  “Got any beer?”

  “I wish.”

  “No worries, I was kidding.”

  He glanced down before saying anything else. Cherry sat back down, wondering if he was contemplating what he’d come by to say or if he was taking a nap.

  “Just taking a leap here, but are those for me?” When his head came up, she nodded toward the bouquet of bright flowers lying across his lap.

  He laid them on the side of her desk. Okay, not what she had expected at all. Maybe she’d misread that kiss after all.

  “I really enjoyed our date last night. I hadn’t expected to—”

  “You really know how to stroke a girl’s ego, Valentine.” She smiled to show she was just kidding before resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Sure, they’d kissed. So maybe he regretted
it. Sure, she’d be disappointed, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It had only been one date. It had only been one kiss. One truly stupendous, breath-stealing kiss that had rocked her night.

  “Jason?”

  He shook his head before expelling a heavy breath. “Sorry, this is coming out all wrong. What I’m trying to say is that I expected a casual dinner that would end with a handshake. I never meant to kiss you. It was supposed to be just business.”

  “Okay, I get it. You made a mistake. It was a romantic setting, we got carried away, and now you regret it.” Damn. She had been looking forward to round two.

  “Yes . . . no. I don’t regret it. I regret the circumstances.” His voice was rough, raw, filled with pent-up frustration. He rubbed his hand at the back of his neck, twisting it back and forth as if trying to loosen a noose.

  “What circumstances? I’m sorry, you’re not making sense.” Unease worked its way through her chest, constricting her lungs.

  “I own Valentine Rehab Services. It’s a small construction company specializing in residential and commercial remodeling and repair.”

  The constriction grew tighter. “Are you putting in for the community center job?”

  “Yes.”

  As his words penetrated her brain, their meaning becoming crystal clear, Cherry fought a rush of hot tears. The air in her lungs failed to exhale and her breakfast forced its way up to hang in the back of her throat. “Would you excuse me for a second?”

  She didn’t wait for his reply. She walked to her fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, took a slug, and wished it had been beer or, even better, whiskey.

  “Cherry, let me explain—”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “No, I think I’ve got this correct. You and David bid on me, not to save me from the drunk, but to get close to me. Did you set Burt up to start the bidding? I knew there had to be a reason why he did that.”

  He started to stop her and she shook her head. “So that was step one, win my undying gratitude. Step two was to no doubt wine me and dine me, followed by a night of slow seduction, so that when you showed up here today, and I’m assuming that envelope I’m just now noticing is your proposal, I’d be so overcome with love, lust, whatever that I’d give you the job. How am I doing so far?”