Tempting Donovan Ford

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Tempting Donovan Ford Page 11

by Jennifer Mckenzie


  The blond was tall and thin, built like a marathoner, and had a wispy growth of hair on his upper lip, but he smiled politely when he saw their attention on him. “He looks nice,” Julia agreed. He also looked unemployed and as if he’d barely left high school, but Julia didn’t worry about that.

  Sasha didn’t get involved. Not for long, anyway. She flitted from man to man like a bee drunk on nectar, never allowing anyone to get deeply attached. Julia thought it seemed lonely, but Sasha appeared to like it. And on those nights when Julia was alone in her bed with nothing but the sheets for comfort, she wondered if Sasha might have it right.

  Surely, one hot and sweaty night with a hot and sweaty man would absolve her of these uncomfortable fantasies starring Donovan Ford.

  “He’s got a friend.” Sasha pointed to an equally thin, equally wispy-looking brunette. Julia hid her shudder.

  “Not interested.” And wouldn’t have been even if she’d never met Donovan Ford.

  Sasha shook her head. “I’m telling you. One night of hot sex. It’ll do you a world of good.” She tugged Julia down beside her. “More important, how’s the tasting menu coming along?” Julia had been fretting over the choices for the special dinner they’d be hosting at Bounty of Whistler for the past week. “Are you happy with it?”

  “I think so.” Julia was pretty sure she’d gotten the right balance this time. But she’d have to try it a couple more times in larger batches to ensure the flavors translated properly. She didn’t even want to consider things going wrong the night of the special dinner. “Want to come over to my place tomorrow and taste for me?”

  “Sure.” Sasha leaned closer. “Alternatively, you could make better use of your time off and invite Donovan over for personal tasting.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “If you say ‘and you don’t mean a food tasting,’ I’m leaving,” Julia said.

  Sasha laughed. “I wasn’t going to. But I would have if I’d thought of it.” She slung an arm around Julia’s shoulders. “Since you brought it up, I feel it’s my duty to point out that since you’ve thought of it, it must be on your mind at least some of the time.”

  “No,” Julia lied, which wasn’t a total lie because it was on her mind all the time. “I wouldn’t even consider it.” Because it was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Being alone in the restaurant had been enough to have them kissing. How far would she go in her apartment, where there was no one and nothing to remind her that she needed to think of her future and the restaurant’s? “Besides, we don’t have that kind of relationship.”

  “And why is that? I thought you liked the kiss.”

  Julia knew she should have kept the incident to herself, chalked it up to an impulsive error and pretended that it had never happened. That would have been the professional thing to do. Of course, she’d blabbed the minute she’d seen Sasha. “It didn’t mean anything and nothing will come of it. That’s why.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes and leaned closer to be heard over the noisy crowd. “Maybe that’s your problem. You’re all tense because you haven’t gotten any.”

  “That’s not why I’m tense.” Julia had many reasons to be tense, but getting some wasn’t part of it.

  Sasha patted her on the shoulder. “So stubborn, so unable to see what’s right in front of you. I’m telling you. Just one night to blow off steam and you’d feel all better.”

  “No. I wouldn’t. I’d just be tenser.” But Julia’s lips tingled and a low heat crept up from her belly. If only she could indulge in the spark that sizzled whenever Donovan was in the vicinity. Allow those hands to do more than cup her face or stroke her cheek.

  “Not if he did it right, and he looks like the kind of man who would know how. It wouldn’t have to be serious. Just a really hot fling. No harm in that.”

  Julia understood that was true in Sasha’s world and she would be lying if she said she’d never engaged in a short fling or one-night stand herself. But... “I’m not interested in a hot fling. With anyone.” She ignored Sasha’s raised eyebrow. “I have other things to think about, Sash. With all the renovations and menu changes, I don’t have time.”

  Sasha laughed. “Oh, please. There should always be time for good sex. And if not, you should make some. It would probably go a long way toward easing your stress.”

  “And maybe I’ll just get a massage.”

  “You know, it isn’t healthy to ignore your personal needs.”

  Julia shook her head. “I’m not ignoring anything.” She had a perfectly good vibrator that lived in her nightstand drawer. Not that she’d had much time to use him lately. Which only served to prove her point. If she couldn’t even clear out a block of time when she was alone and in bed, then actually connecting with a real live human seemed out of the question.

  Sasha patted her shoulder again. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Julia straightened and tried not to look as though she was thinking about a naked Donovan. “I will.”

  “Good.” Sasha smiled and dropped the subject, but Julia’s brain didn’t.

  The wispy blond and his friend decided they wanted to move on to another nightclub, but when Julia said she wasn’t interested, Sasha decided to stay, too.

  “Go,” Julia encouraged her. “I should probably head home anyway.”

  Sasha sent her a withering look. “This is the first time you’ve come out in two weeks. You’re not going home at eleven thirty.” She waved the boys off. “Besides, I’m thinking he might be a little too thin. I don’t want to break him or get bruised by his protruding hip bones.”

  Julia laughed.

  “It’s a legitimate concern.”

  “Ladies.” Julia glanced up to see Owen towering over them, a water bottle in his hands. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. You should have called.”

  She smiled and lifted her cheek for Owen to kiss. “We didn’t know you were working.” And even as she said it, her eyes darted around the room, searching to see if the other Ford brother might be nearby.

  Sasha wasn’t so subtle. She kissed Owen on the lips and asked, “Where’s your handsome brother?”

  Owen put a hand to his chest, a pained expression on his face. “I’m crushed. Am I not enough man for you?”

  Sasha laughed while Julia stepped on her foot under the table. Seriously, what was she doing?

  “Oh, you’re plenty of man.” Sasha laid a hand on Owen’s chest. “I’m flattered you’d sit with us.”

  They flirted away while Julia sipped her water and tried not to feel jealous that she didn’t have a Ford to flirt with. Not that she would. Because she so wouldn’t.

  Owen turned, including her in the conversation, and soon Julia forgot all about Donovan. Except when Owen tilted his head a certain way, or when she noticed the way his hands looked laid flat against the table or saw the way his dark hair seemed to absorb rather than reflect the light. Just like Donovan’s. So really, barely at all.

  Owen turned all his attention to her when Sasha excused herself to go to the bathroom. “I hear you and my brother are taking a trip.”

  Julia nodded and pretended her abdomen hadn’t twisted. The trip was for work only, and no matter what kind of ideas Sasha might try to put in her head, there was no reason to think anything other than that would happen during the weekend. “Just a few days.”

  He picked at the label on his water bottle, shredding off a small strip of paper. “Are you looking forward to it?”

  This time she couldn’t ignore the twist, but she did her best not to show it and kept her tone light. “Bounty of Whistler should be a great event.” Julia was excited to be part of the festival’s inaugural season. Plus, she hoped to be far too busy, cooking and glad-handing and serving, to think about sexy times on the mountainside with Donovan. “Are you coming?” That would be great—to have at least one other person who might act as a buffer between her and Donovan, because Julia knew she couldn’t count on Sasha to do it.

  “No.” Owen lounged back a
gainst the booth. “When Mal had to cancel, I’d hoped I might, but...” He shrugged. “Apparently, I need to prove that I’m serious about the family business.” The corners of Owen’s mouth turned down. “It seems I spend too much time playing and not enough working.”

  Julia didn’t know what to say to that, so she reached out and offered his hand a sympathetic pat. She had sensed there was some distance between the brothers. There were many evenings they both came to the restaurant to eat, but never together. But she didn’t know how deep it went. Whether it was just a difference of opinion on lifestyle or something more serious.

  “I think you’re doing a great job,” she told Owen. “Look at this place. It’s a Tuesday night and it’s packed.” She didn’t even have to exaggerate. Though plenty of businesses would be half-empty or closed entirely on what was traditionally a slow night, Elephants showed no sign of anything other than success.

  The bang of pans from the open kitchen and the clink of bottles from the bar told her that they weren’t slowing down, either. Owen smiled, but his fingers still worked that water-bottle label until it was a pile of torn strips lying on the table. “Yes, well. That’s expected. I need to go beyond that.” He put his hand on top of hers. “But thanks for being so nice.”

  “I’m not just being nice, Owen. It’s true.” She put her free hand on top of his, sensing he needed kindness as much as reassurance. “This is amazing. Maybe you could help at La Petite Bouchée once we reopen. We could certainly use this kind of business.”

  Owen smiled, but there was bitterness in it. “Maybe.” And he didn’t sound as if he thought it would be a possibility.

  She squeezed his fingers. Sometimes actions meant more than talk and a simple touch could be more soothing than a lecture’s worth of words.

  And that was how they were sitting when Donovan found them.

  Julia’s heart thumped when she heard his voice flowing around her, cloaking her entire body. “Julia.” His eyes didn’t leave her. “And Owen.”

  “Ah, yes. The ever-working brother.” Owen smiled, but Julia heard the tension in his voice. She folded her hands in her lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I hope you’re not checking up on me.”

  “No. I just stopped in for a drink after work.” He glanced around the room. “Busy night.”

  “It is.” Owen might appear relaxed, but beneath his jovial chatter, Julia had noticed the sharp eye he kept on the crowd around them. The servers were well trained, gliding between tables and caring for patrons with a friendly demeanor. There was no reason for Owen to be hovering over anyone, cracking the whip.

  Donovan turned, his eyes meeting hers, and Julia felt the glimmer of attraction flutter through her. She tamped down on the sensation and wondered exactly how long Sasha was going to take in the bathroom.

  “Owen, will you give us a minute.” Donovan spoke to his brother while his eyes remained on her, and it was clearly a statement, not a question.

  “I’m fine where I am,” Owen said.

  “Then I’ll join you.”

  Julia hadn’t expected Donovan to nudge into the minuscule space beside her. Not when there was practically an arena’s worth of space beside his brother. But nudge he did, the bump of his thigh against hers sending another glimmer of heat through her.

  She tried not to notice. “You know, Owen and I were just discussing the possibility of him joining us in Whistler.”

  “Were you?” Donovan stretched an arm along the back of the booth, his hand hovering just above her shoulder. If she shrugged, she was pretty sure his fingers would tickle her.

  “Yes. He mentioned he’d like to attend. I think that seems reasonable, don’t you?”

  “No.” His eyes caught hers and didn’t move. Julia felt her lungs swell, but she couldn’t really breathe. Just stare back. What was it about this man that clouded her thoughts? “Owen—” Donovan’s voice shifted but his gaze didn’t “—could you give us that minute?”

  “Julia?” She turned to find Owen watching her with a concerned tilt to his brow. He even reached out to touch her arm and she realized he was worried about her. He wanted to protect her from his big bad brother, which was sweet though unnecessary.

  She could manage Donovan, and it was clear their fraternal relationship was strained. She didn’t know why, but she sensed encouraging Owen to stay would only exacerbate whatever the issue was. She wouldn’t do that. She might not have siblings of her own, but she held family relationships in high respect. She held all family in high respect, maybe because she no longer had any of her own.

  She smiled at Owen. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” She nodded, sure she’d done the right thing when the tightness around Owen’s mouth relaxed. “Okay. I’ll be at the bar. Let me know if you need anything.”

  She waited until he’d moved out of eavesdropping range before she looked at Donovan. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “Not really.” He didn’t slide closer to her, but he did relax, his long body sinking into the cushioned padding of the booth.

  Julia slid away from him. Not because she didn’t trust herself to be near him, but because it was a big booth, large enough to seat five comfortably, and the two of them snuggling up in one tiny section seemed silly. And just a little too intimate for her own comfort.

  Donovan tilted his head and looked at her. “Why are you asking about Owen joining us in Whistler?”

  “It came up in conversation.” But she was having trouble thinking when he watched her with that intense gaze and he sat so close. She could see the outline of his thigh muscles under his pants. He had the kind of body a woman could grab, grip hard and hold on to for the ride. And out of her chef coat, away from La Petite Bouchée, it was harder to remember that her focus needed to be on work. She forced herself to turn her head and glance around the room in a show of disinterest while her temperature returned to normal. Or it might have had Donovan not still been staring at her when she turned back.

  “So you just happened to be holding hands with him when I came in?”

  “We weren’t holding hands.” She’d been supporting Owen—that was all. “Why does it matter?”

  Donovan shrugged and after a long moment of staring seemed to let it go. “I missed you.”

  Heat spiked beneath her skin along with irritation. “You saw me last night.”

  “It was too long.”

  Julia knew she shouldn’t like it when he talked that way, when he hinted at more. But she did like it. A lot. “You’ll survive.”

  “I might not.” He leaned toward her. But he didn’t kiss her. And she wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad about that.

  So she changed the subject. “You know, we need a general manager at La Petite Bouchée when we reopen. Someone to manage the floor.” Because her previous one had quit when she’d announced they were closing for three weeks to renovate and she wasn’t particularly sad to see the back of him. He’d been officious and quick to palm off duties that he felt were beneath him. Julia guessed he didn’t realize that in a restaurant, there was no job beneath you.

  Heck, she’d been known on more than one occasion to jump into the dish pit and scrub if that would get the line moving again.

  “Do we?” He watched her, all dark eyes and cool smile.

  Julia tried not to think about how appealing it was. She had a job to focus on. And even if she wasn’t trying to build a career and a name for herself, getting involved with her boss was a bad idea. People might think she’d gotten ahead based on her skills in the bedroom, not in the kitchen. Or that was what she told herself when her hormones tried to get the best of her. “Yes. I think Owen would be perfect.” She flicked a look around the wine bar, which she knew would be busy right up until last call. “I like how he handles Elephants.”

  “He doesn’t handle Elephants.” Donovan’s smile wasn’t quite so cool now. “That would be the assistant manager, Jeannie.”

  Julia
frowned. That wasn’t right. She’d met Jeannie once and she seemed capable and polite, but Owen was definitely the one in charge. The one captaining this ship. “Owen’s pretty involved,” she insisted. In fact, he was heavily involved, taking care of concerns from both patrons and staff, all without losing his easy demeanor.

  Of course, she didn’t know what went on behind closed doors, but that was the beauty of her idea. The general manager needed people skills. She took care of the back end of ordering and inventory control.

  “I’d like to at least ask him if he’s interested.”

  Donovan’s lips tightened. “And if I recommend that we don’t?”

  “Why would you do that? Because you’re not keeping the restaurant and Owen works for the family?” It was the only thing she could think of. She could even understand his reticence. But there was no reason Owen couldn’t manage La Petite Bouchée until then.

  Donovan’s lips tightened again. “No. That’s not it.” He looked as if he was about to say more, but a throng of customers bumped their table, sending the liquid in their glasses sloshing, and by the time they’d reached out to right them and sop up any spillage with their napkins, the moment was gone.

  “Then why?”

  “Listen.” He paused, wadded up the wet napkins in his hand and put them in one of the empty glasses. “Owen’s job is here. At Elephants.”

  “I know. But I think we should at least offer him the choice. Even if he says no, I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing about it.” Owen had clearly indicated to her that he was ready for a bigger challenge. What bigger challenge than helping set up and overseeing the grand reopening?

  “I know he would. That’s not my concern.”

  “Then what is your concern?” Julia didn’t realize she’d leaned closer until she felt the heat from Donovan’s body wash over hers. She swallowed.

  “Owen is...excitable. He jumps in with both feet and he’s ready and willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “Uh, those sound like good things,” Julia pointed out. She didn’t point out that Donovan’s thigh had shifted and was now pressing against hers.

 

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