Deliciously Sinful

by Lilli Feisty

  He’d gotten the job.

  Life was good.

  Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

  “What are you blathering about now, Sherry?”

  “You and your stupidity.” She sipped daintily at a glass of red wine.

  “Are you referring to wearing the wrong shoes with the wrong belt again?”

  “Don’t be an ass. I swear, I am on the edge with you right now.”

  “The edge of what?”

  “Liking you.”

  He shrugged. “Do what you want, Sherry. I can’t control how you feel.”

  “Did you really just up and ditch Phoebe?”

  “I left a message on her cell phone.”

  “A message. And what did this message say?”

  “That I had an emergency in L.A., and I needed to come down here ASAP.” He drained his tequila.

  “So you just up and vanished on her?”

  “Hey.” His voice was harder than he intended. “I did what I had to do. I got the most coveted restaurant job in this town. We should be celebrating, and you’re giving me shit. Not cool.”

  “No. What’s not cool is your behavior.” She shook her head, and he saw pity in her eyes.

  It made his gut twist. He could handle anything except someone’s pity.

  “Don’t judge me,” he said. “And don’t look at me like that.”

  “I’m sorry, Nick. I guess I just thought better of you.”

  “Well, I would have thought you’d know what a mistake that could be. You know what they say, Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed.”

  She emptied what was left of her wine and stood. “The only people who say stupid shit like that are idiots who want an excuse to fail.”

  Leaning forward, Nick placed his elbows on his knees. “Fail? Fail? What don’t you understand here? I never wanted to leave Los Angeles. I never wanted to cook in some ass-backward hippie town. I want my old life back.”

  “Yeah. Well, it looks like now you have it back. Have fun with it. Expect the worst while you’re at it. Then you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, sinking back into the sofa. What didn’t Sherry get about this?

  He watched as a tall man in an Armani suit attempted to pick up Sherry. She smiled sweetly at him, and Nick saw her mouth the word no. The guy kept trying, and again she said no. Finally he went away.

  She came back carrying a tequila for Nick and a glass of cabernet for herself. After placing the drinks on the round table in front of them, she took her place on the sofa.

  “You’re judging me?” Nick asked.

  “No. I’m calling you on your shit.”

  He laughed. “What about you? You’re done with your hippie boy and you just left him?” He sarcastically shook his head. “Sounds like you ditched him. How very not cool you are.”

  Her smile was sickly sweet. “As usual, you’re totally wrong.”

  “Pray tell.”

  “Steve is moving here.”

  Nick froze. “What?”

  “Yup. But it’s a secret at the moment. He’s waiting for the right time to tell Jesse.”

  “Wait. So you got Steve to move to L.A.?”

  “It wasn’t hard. Frankly, I think he’s been wanting out of that town for a while. And he can still visit all he wants. I’ll be traveling up there a lot for work, anyway.”

  “But I’d think he would hate this town.”

  She shrugged. “We had a blast when he was down here. He especially loved Venice Beach. He and my son really hit it off. I think Redbolt has too many memories for him. He seemed like an entirely different person when he was away.”

  “So you like this guy?”

  As if he had to ask. She was positively glowing. “I do. Yes, very much. So, you’re wrong. I didn’t ditch anyone. That’s more your style.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Sherry. Give it a rest, will you?”

  She just shrugged in a know-it-all way that was highly irritating.

  One thing. He’d wanted one thing ever since that day he’d been fired six months ago. And now he’d achieved it, and for some reason, Sherry was giving him all kinds of shit about it.

  He didn’t care. He’d lived his entire life not caring what anyone thought. Nick Avalon looked out for himself. That was something he’d never made any qualms about hiding. Hell, how many times had Phoebe herself said as much to him? How many times had she called him a self-absorbed, thoughtless prick?

  Yeah, earlier it had bugged him that he was proving her right. But then he realized he didn’t care. Let her be right. He hadn’t changed in the four months he’d been away from Los Angeles.

  This was where he belonged. It was home. This was his life. Everyone else could fuck off.

  Across the room, a familiar-looking blonde smiled at him. Maybe he’d fucked her; he couldn’t recall. He smiled back.

  He beckoned a waitress for another tequila. His gaze roamed the room and landed back on the blonde.

  Yup. He finally had it back. He had all he needed. City life, decent music, beautiful women who didn’t argue with him all day long.

  It was good to be home.

  And that’s what he was going to keep telling himself.

  *

  Fourteen days later, Nick was in the kitchen of his new restaurant. Things were going swimmingly. His staff was already intimidated by his surly demeanor. He’d planned an amazing menu. The kitchen was a top chef’s dream.

  They were opening that night.

  The entire place buzzed with anticipation and energy. This was exactly what Nick got off on. High-stress, fast-paced—and he was the leader. The manager knew enough to back the fuck away and let him do his job.

  Everything was perfect.

  Waitstaff scurried around him, preparing for the first customers. And they weren’t a bunch of hippie teenagers. He’d forgotten that out here, a server at a high-end trendy restaurant needed to actually know what they were doing. They needed to be savvy on things like gourmet food and wine. A job at a place like this was hard to come by, and most of the staff were actors, which translated into career waiters. Unlike some places that he refused to think about, here the industry was taken seriously.

  Nick looked around the restaurant and crossed his arms over his chest. He was in his element. He had regained what he’d lost.

  And everything inside him felt empty.

  Yes. He’d pulled off what he’d set out to do. He’d burned bridges, hurt people, and been exactly what Phoebe had always called him: a fucking prick.

  He was back.

  But back where? He’d thought he was coming home. But everything here felt wrong. He realized that he missed sitting on the porch of the cabin, sipping tequila and listening to the crickets. He missed teaching Jesse how to cook. He had to admit that he missed the challenge of creating a menu out of whatever random produce Phoebe tossed at him.

  And, most of all, he missed Phoebe. He missed her so much his chest felt like it had a boa constrictor in it. Squeezing and squeezing him until he thought his ribs were going to implode.

  He couldn’t even look at another woman; the thought of touching anyone but her made him feel sick. Even that blonde from the other night. Everything about her had been wrong. Wrong hair, wrong eyes, wrong skin. But, obviously, Phoebe was never going to change her opinion about him. She was never going to actually like him.

  Unless you change her mind.

  Yeah, right. Even if he wanted to, how was he supposed to do that now?

  He’d already totally fucked that up.

  Nick looked around the busy restaurant. Sometimes things just felt wrong, even though you knew they should feel right. Sometimes you started out making an omelet but had to settle for scrambled eggs because you fucked up.

  He was living in a big old mess of overcooked scrambled eggs.

  “Fuck.” He threw his white hat to the sous-chef. “Have at it.”

  Manuel, who’d been second in line
for Nick’s job, just stared at him. “What are you doing, man?”

  Nick was already headed for the door. Over his shoulder, he said, “Making a fucking omelet.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Phoebe. It’s pouring outside. We don’t need quail eggs that badly.”

  Phoebe swung her bag over her shoulder and pulled out the keys to the Toyota. “It’s on the menu.”

  Jesse stared at her. “So. What. That doesn’t mean you need to go out driving in a freak rainstorm to get them!”

  “It’s not raining that badly. Really, Jesse. It’s just a drive. I don’t understand why you’re freaking out.”

  “Well, maybe because my aunt has gone off her rocker and is driving to some tiny farm out in the middle of nowhere when it’s pouring rain? For quail eggs?”

  “Pshaw. I’ll be fine. You know I can drive my Land Cruiser through anything.”

  “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

  Phoebe narrowed her gaze at her niece. “I’m not so sure I like this grown-up side of you.”

  “Too bad. It’s here to stay.”

  “I don’t know if hiring you as my head chef was such a good idea. It’s gone to your head.”

  “Well, at least I’m using my head! Unlike some people I know. Auntie.”

  “It’s Saturday. Remember? Nick made the tradition of having poached quail-egg salad with watercress and tarragon sauce?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “So. Some people come in now just for that salad. I’m not going to say we don’t have it just because Nick left.”

  “We won’t have it because we can’t get the eggs!”

  “Same difference.”

  “Phoebe. You’re acting crazy. You can’t do everything. When are you going to learn that?”

  Never. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. It’s just a little rain.”

  Jesse inhaled a breath, and Phoebe was taken with how much, at that moment, her niece looked like Phoebe’s sister when she’d been about to give a lecture.

  “You get everything ready for tonight. I’ll be back with those eggs before you know it.”

  “What if something happens out there? You know there’s no cell service in the hills!”

  “Jesse. I’m going.”

  “Fine. But I don’t like it.”

  “I’m still your boss.”

  Jesse grunted but said, “Just be careful.”

  “I will. Back in a jiffy.”

  Phoebe pulled out of the lot and headed toward the winding, two-lane road that led to the small farm where she got most of her eggs. The rain had caused a small mudslide in the farm’s driveway, which was keeping their deliveries from being executed. But they’d agreed to meet Phoebe at the end of the driveway so she could pick up supplies for the restaurant.

  Ah, the joys of living in the backwoods. Mudslides, falling trees, bad cell phone service. No wonder Nick had hated it there so much.

  Damn it. She punched the steering wheel. She was trying really, really hard not to think about that bastard. Because when she did, her heart hurt and that really sucked.

  And she got really pissed off at herself for allowing him to get to her. He didn’t deserve an ounce of her energy. He was all the things she’d pegged him as from the start. He’d driven that point home like a samurai drives a sword into a person’s chest.

  She wouldn’t think about it. Instead she concentrated on driving. It really was raining hard, much harder than she’d predicted. Even with her windshield wipers on high, she still had a hard time seeing the road.

  As she drove deeper into the forest, the road became littered with broken tree limbs and rocks. She had to slow to a crawl. Maybe Jesse had been right. Perhaps driving out here in this weather hadn’t been the brightest of ideas.

  But she really hadn’t been able to think right since Nick left. She’d go from being incredibly sad to blindingly angry. It was affecting her judgment, and it had to stop.

  She would stop.

  She needed a distraction. Distraction was good. She’d kept busy with the farm and the café, but it was still hard when she was alone. In her own head.

  It was too quiet in the car.

  Reaching down, she turned on the radio, but there were barely any stations that transmitted out here, so she had to fuss with the dial before she found anything decent.

  She found a station that was playing an old Crosby, Stills, and Nash song. And that was when the three-hundred-foot redwood tree fell to the ground, landing on the road directly in front of her.

  Nick skidded to a stop in front of the café. The rain had become downright torrential the closer he’d got to Redbolt, and now he sprinted from his Hummer to the door of the Green Leaf. He’d left last night, right after he’d walked out on his dream job. And even just breathing the Northern California air seemed refreshing and welcoming.

  Inside the café was a different story.

  Dinner was just getting started, and the place was filling up. Except the minute he walked in, the place went silent.

  Yeah. So he probably should have expected a reception like this.

  Ignoring the angry glares of his previous customers, he stalked to the kitchen.

  Jessie stared at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Where’s Phoebe?”

  “Why?”

  “Jesse. Just tell me where she is. Is she at home?”

  Jesse stared at him a moment before pulling him into a corner. She spoke in a hushed voice. “She insisted on going out for eggs at this farm about twenty miles into the mountains. I told her it was a bad idea. She should have been back over an hour ago. I’m getting really worried.”

  “Have you called her?”

  “No cell service out there.”

  His blood went cold. “Give me the address and directions.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m going to go find her.”

  “Any word from Phoebe?”

  Nick turned to see his very best friend, Bear, standing a few feet away.

  Jesse shook her head. “No. Nick’s going to go look for her.”

  It was then that Bear’s gaze landed on him. He scowled. “Is he now? What, did you get fired again and want Phoebe to give you your old job back? I really don’t think that’s gonna happen, not the way you treated her.”

  Nick tensed but tried to keep his cool. “Just get out of my way. I’m going out to look for Phoebe.”

  Bear stepped in front of him. “That’s ridiculous. If anyone goes out looking for her, it’s not going to be some unreliable flake who probably can barely even drive his big expensive car.”

  “Move aside.”

  “Go back to L.A. We don’t need you here.”

  Nick’s blood went from ice cold to boiling hot in one second. He got right up in Bear’s face. “Listen, you dickwad. Step the fuck back.”

  “Phoebe doesn’t want anything to do with you. She’s seeing me now.”

  Nick didn’t plan on punching the guy; he really didn’t. His fist just shot out and punched Bear in the nose. Big Bear reeled back, trying to stop the blood streaming from his nostrils.

  “Boys! This is totally not cool. We’re in a restaurant, for God’s sake,” Jesse said. Then she turned to Bear. “And you are full of shit. You’re not dating Phoebe.”

  “I know. I just said that to keep this dog off her tail.”

  “Right,” Nick said, shaking his throbbing hand. “I’ll see you later. I’m going to get Phoebe.” And with that he walked out the door, jogged through the pouring rain, and hopped into his Hummer. Bear was dead wrong. Nick knew how to drive his car incredibly well. And now he was going to use it to go find Phoebe.

  She could have crashed her car.

  She could be hurt, lying in a ditch.

  She could be unconscious.

  He didn’t need directions. He realized he knew exactly what farm Phoebe had been headed to. He’d gone there himsel
f on several occasions.

  The road was winding, narrow, and treacherous in the best of conditions.

  Damn it, Phoebe—what were you thinking?

  She’d better be okay. She would be okay. She had to be. Nick realized he needed her like a good roux needs flour. He just hoped that she’d give him a second chance.

  Now Phoebe was getting really cold. The rain hadn’t stopped, and heavy streams of water were rushing down the side of the mountain in muddy torrents. Her head was pounding, and her neck was sore.

  So stupid. Such a stupid thing to prove she could do.

  Surely Jesse would have sent out a search party by now. But if she had, could they even reach her?

  The rain was pounding so hard on her car she thought it might dent the metal. She could barely see the mountain she currently faced. No one was going to find her. Not anytime soon, anyway.

  Yup. You’ve really done it now.

  She’d been staring out the window for more than an hour. It was gray. Wet and gray. She could barely see more than five feet beyond her window.

  Except…What was that? Something huge…and yellow…was crawling toward her.

  No effing way.

  She knew only one person with a car like that. One person who would be stupid enough to come get her. One person who would be stupid and arrogant enough to even think about coming back to town.

  Nick Avalon. Yup. He pulled to a stop near her, jumped out of his Hummer, and ran through the mud to her car. He yanked open the door and assessed her in one fell swoop.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  She just glared at him. “Yes, I am. And don’t call me baby.”

  He smiled at her. “Oh, bloody hell. I fucking love you.”

  “Did you crash? Do you have a concussion, too?”

  “No.”

  “You came for me,” she said.

  He just nodded.

  “But you left.”

  “I know. It was stupid…I was stupid. I was so stupid I want to shoot myself.”

  “I want to shoot you, too. And you’re soaking wet and now so am I.”

  With the door open, rain was pouring onto both of them and drenching the car inside. “I’m sorry.” He leaned in to pick her up. “Are you hurt?”