Some Like It Hotter

by Isabel Sharpe

  “Look, I’m not inter—”

  “Look how Eva got you!” Jean gestured contemptuously at him. “She just kept coming over. Did you want to see her? No! Did you think she was a pain in the ass? Maybe a little. But then you fell in love with her. I helped her because I looked at her and I said, that girl is in love with Ames the way my Manny was with me. He still is, in fact, in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.” He rubbed his forehead irritably, wanting to talk about Eva about as much as he didn’t want to. “If she was in love with me, she wouldn’t be running back to California as fast as possible.”

  “Says you. You know nothing.” Jean marched up to the edge of his desk and shook her finger at him. “You wouldn’t know love if it was a herring that slapped you across the face.”

  He stared incredulously. “A what?”

  “You ever been slapped in the face with a herring, Ames? Well, I have. And I’m telling you—” She broke into a giggle and fanned at her face. “Okay, okay, I lied about the herring.”

  “What the—” He chuckled unwillingly. “Jean, for God’s sake.”

  “What can I say? I got carried away. Get over it.”

  “Is this going to take much longer?” He pointed to a pile of folders on his desk. Untouched since an hour ago when he sat down after lunch. “I have work to do.”

  “Of course you do. You gotta get yourself out from behind this desk and go after her. Every day. And if she goes back to California, you pick up, you sublet this place, rent an apartment near her, and show up. Every day. If you have to sell wine to stay alive, sell California wine. They got plenty out there.”

  He stared at her. Blinked. Stared some more. Why the hell didn’t he think of that?

  Because he was strictly an in-the-box thinker, a nonspontaneous non–risk taker, which was why Eva had intrigued and irritated and enchanted him so much from the first day her met her. Because part of him undoubtedly wanted to be her.

  His mind started spinning slowly, then faster and faster until his thoughts were as chaotic as his emotions.

  When was the last time he’d taken a vacation? He must have a few weeks coming anyway. He could try out California. There was no shortage of wine in the state. He had fantastic contacts here and abroad, good experience...

  The thoughts stalled. What the hell? This was crazy thinking. He wasn’t the type to pick up and move on a whim. Away from friends? Away from family? Away from New York?

  The apartment phone rang.

  “I got it.” Jean went to answer.

  Ames stayed at his desk, tempted to lock his office door so she couldn’t get back in and lecture him more on what a loser he was, except that would be a total loser thing to do.

  Going after Eva every day was a lovely concept for a movie, but it was dangerously close to stalker behavior. No meant no, and if she didn’t want to stay for him now, dangling himself in front of her, pleading, wasn’t likely to change her mind. He’d groveled plenty already and she’d given him a firm, well-thought-out answer.

  Subject closed.

  “Uh. Ames?” Jean was at the door, phone in hand, looking incredulous. “I keep telling Frank there’s some mistake, but he won’t budge.”

  His heart launched into triple time. Had Eva shown up? Changed her mind? “What is it?”

  “He says your gorilla is here.”

  Aw, jeez. Sure, go ahead—kick a man while he’s down. Ames had ordered the statue two weeks ago, along with a miniature putting green to put in the corner of his living room that Eva said needed brightening with exactly those two things. There had been a delay in the order, then in all the mess, he’d forgotten about it.

  What the hell had he been thinking? What was he going to do with a—

  He was suddenly was able to hear himself. No, he wasn’t going to go after her, no, he wasn’t going to move to California, no, he wasn’t going to take a vacation, no, he could no longer handle a life-size gorilla, no, no, no...

  Jean was right.

  Ames was a loser.

  He kept his expression serious. “Well, it’s about time.”

  “You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Jean.” He spoke patiently. “Every apartment needs a gorilla. This one is mine.”

  She looked at him in concern. “Does this mean you’ve finally lost it?”

  “Not at all.” He pushed his chair back, came around the front of his desk, not even in the mood to pretend to work anymore. “I’ve become a collector of animal statues and small putting greens. This is only the first one. Next, a giraffe. Then a zebra. My living room will become a mini-golf course.”

  “You are kidding me.”

  “Am I, Jean?” He perched on the edge of his desk. “Am I really?”

  She stared at him suspiciously, then broke into a grin. “Oh, boy. Eva is part of this somehow. I can smell it.”

  “Could be.”

  “I shouldn’t have doubted you, though, my God, you were acting like a wet blanket. I’ve seen infants with bigger ones.” She put the phone back to her ear. “Send it up, Frank. He definitely wants the gorilla. Yeah. Yeah. I think it’s some kind of present for his girlfriend. I know. I don’t, either, but kids these days...”

  Ames started grinning. He had a feeling he wouldn’t stop for quite a while.

  “Okay. Your gorilla is on the way.” She handed him the phone. “Use it wisely.”

  “The phone or the gorilla?”

  “Yes.” She surprised him with a warm hug. “Good luck, Ames. I have a feeling about you and this girl.”

  “Thanks, Jean. I do, too.”

  She patted his arm. “Just don’t screw this up or you’ll be lonely and miserable for the rest of your life.”

  “Oh, for—” He gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek. “That is so sweet.”

  “Hey, they don’t call me honey for nothing.” She winked. “I lied again. No one calls me that.”

  “Not surprised.”

  Jean snorted and started for the door. “Okay, you want me out of here so you can call Eva. Not to worry, I’m going. I’m gone.”

  “Thanks, Jean. Truly. I’ll see you Thursday.”

  “Only if I live that long.” She stopped at the door and turned back to smile, a warm and lovely one he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. “And you’re entirely welcome.”

  15

  EVA GLANCED AT the clock. Again. Who kept turning the hands back? The day couldn’t possibly be going this slowly. Her shift ended at two, and then she had somewhere important to be.

  In Ames’s arms. With her mouth pressed against his, and her eyes devouring the wonderful and sexually irresistible sight of him.

  Not that everything would be fixed by her coming back to him. Certainly the agony of the past several days’ separation would be behind them, and the uncertainty of her feelings, the fear that she’d never be able to commit to any one man seriously—that would be gone. Eva wasn’t defective. She loved Ames. She wanted to be with him forever.

  All those issues were fixed and the relief was immense. But getting there had presented her with more problems. She could call Chris, tell her the switch back was off indefinitely, that they should take it month by month, that she’d fallen head over heels in love with Ames and wanted to be with him in New York.

  The problem? She didn’t want to be in New York. She missed California, she missed her shop, she missed her routines and the peace and the room just to be. What she’d been lacking there on the coast, what she’d needed to cure the boredom that had started this monthlong adventure, wasn’t the thrill and excitement of a big city. It was Ames.

  And that introduced the next problem. Ames was a New Yorker. Well, she supposed to most New Yorkers, he was Jersey scum, but as far as she was concerned, he fit the city organically and the city fit him. Plus he not only had a job here, but a career, one that afforded him international travel and contact with some of the most creative food and wine minds in the city, and�
��as a good New Yorker would tell you—therefore the world.

  Why would he give that up for her? How could she ask him to?

  She couldn’t.

  And that was why, though she was incredibly impatient to get to his house, to make sure he understood what she was feeling, and how those feelings had driven her actions and decision last time they were together, she was also filled with a sick, doomed certainty that having finally fallen in love with the man of her dreams, their life together until death did them part would stay alive only in her fantasies.

  How depressing was that? How could she marry Zac now? She’d been ridiculous even thinking she could settle for less than a wildly passionate and deeply intimate lifelong love affair. She could see now that Zac had mostly been a buffer against her fear that she was unlovable, that this blissful union other people all over the world seemed to slide into regularly was somehow not going to happen to her.

  Well, guess what?

  “Hey, Eva.” Fingers snapped in front of her face. “You in there?”

  She jerked back to the present. Tom was standing about a foot away from her, looking amused, Natalie draped all over him, as Natalie was pretty much every time she saw him now. It was lovely, thrilling and just a tiny bit nauseating.

  He did look incredibly handsome in his new haircut and new cool clothes. There was still something of a beauty and the beast element to their pairing, but that delighted Eva.

  “Oops. Sorry.” She stepped over toward him. “I was...thinking about inventory.”

  “Uh-huh.” Natalie shook her head sympathetically. She and Eva had been up late talking the night before. Natalie was in that same la-la land as all couples in the early days of their relationship, thinking nothing was simpler than being happy, and all you had to do was find the guy and everything else would fall into place.

  As Eva said, a tiny bit nauseating.

  “So what can I get you, coffee and...?”

  “Coffee, a latte and your company when you get off work.”

  Eva grimaced apologetically. “I can get you the first two...but I have somewhere to be.”

  “Ooh!” Natalie brightened. “Good! Good for you.”

  Eva winked conspiratorially, thinking what an amazing transformation Natalie had undergone since their first meeting, when she’d barely been able to summon a polite word or a thought that didn’t involve herself. She’d simply been unhappy.

  Though Tom would definitely have his hands full on occasion. People didn’t change that completely.

  “Tom has some news.” She beamed at him. “Tell her.”

  “My Importance of Being Earnest musical has some interest.”

  Natalie scoffed. “Some interest? Only crazed enthusiasm by one of the biggest Broadway producers in New York, Scott—”

  “Shh.” Tom’s hand went gently across her lips. “No counting chickens.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Mmgaaffmgrb.”

  “You are so right.” He took his hand off and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for being happy for me.”

  “Tom!” Eva beamed at them both and handed Tom his coffee. “This is so cool. I will keep my fingers crossed.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eva turned to the Beast to pull an espresso shot for Natalie’s latte, feeling warm and fuzzy and thrilled for the two of them, and for Tom’s success...and also a little envious, and a little bitter, for which she was immediately ashamed. Why did human emotions have to be so complicated?

  She’d just finished pouring the foaming milk into Natalie’s mug when she heard a gasp behind her and turned.

  Another gasp, hers this time, and a wild acceleration of her heart.

  Jinx had come in, ready to take over for her. Behind him, a giant bouquet of flowers was walking into the shop. Flowers with male legs.

  Really nice legs. Not that you could tell since they were in perfectly pressed beige khakis, but she happened to know that about them.

  She heard a mumble of admiration around the shop—business had picked up considerably midmorning and midafternoon since she’d made her little changes.

  The flowers, a brilliantly rainbow-colored assortment of blooms large and small, multipetaled and single, tall and short, round and oval and spiky and feathery, delicate and substantial, lowered.

  The only thing in the room more beautiful and amazing and heart lifting than the flowers was what had been lurking behind them.

  “Wow.” Eva pressed her hands to her face, afraid she’d start bawling. “Oh, wow.”

  “Hi.” Ames Cooke was the most gorgeous and amazing man who’d ever lived, she was certain of it. Because he was looking at her as if she was the most gorgeous and amazing woman who ever lived, and that was exactly as it should be when you were madly in love.

  “Ames. Those are so beautiful.” She blinked demurely. “But, um, you know Chris isn’t here...”

  “I guess you’ll have to keep them.” He grinned and set the vase on the corner of the counter. The blaze of glory lit up the shop. A few customers applauded.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Her voice came out breathless. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, not sure how she’d survived so many days without seeing him. She was starved for him, his scent, his skin—she practically wanted to ingest the poor guy.

  All she could hope was that he felt exactly the same. And the way his dark eyes were fixed on her, there was a good chance he did.

  “No coffee, thanks. I was hoping you’d be ready to leave soon.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an important call at four, but I was wondering if you’d like to—”

  “Yes.”

  He grinned. “Well, okay, then.”

  “I’ll cover you.” Jinx laid a hand on Eva’s shoulder, making her jump. Were there other people in the world? She’d forgotten. “Don’t worry, boss, you go.”

  “Thanks, Jinx. I’ll just clean—”

  “Nope.” He pointed to the door. “You’re out. In another few days I don’t work for you anymore, so I can start telling you what to do.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that.” She winked at his surprised face and handed him her apron. “Good business today, have fun. And thank you. Truly.”

  “Name your first kid after me.” He grinned and shook Ames’s hand. “Even if it’s a girl.”

  “Yeah...okay.” She hugged him and went around the counter, wanting to skip and cheer and howl at the sun.

  One last look at the flowers and she took the hand Ames offered and followed him outside.

  “This was such a surprise, Ames. Though I have to tell you I was coming over after my shift today, whether you liked it or not.”

  “Yeah?” He grinned at her, swinging their hands, walking so fast she practically had to run.

  “Are we in a hurry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a surprise to show you. And we need to talk. And I want your clothes off.”

  “In what order?”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Doesn’t matter.”

  They barreled down Forty-Third Street, entered his building, strode through the lobby, Eva barely having time to throw out a breathless, “Hi, Frank,” before Ames had dragged her onto the elevator.

  The doors closed, and she was in his arms. He was murmuring her name. Her body melted against him, exquisite relief coursing through her system. “Oh, that is so much better.”

  “Yes.” He drew his thumb across her mouth, his eyes warm and serious, causing a massive melt in her heart. “I missed you, Eva.”

  “Oh, Ames.” She shook her head, gazing at him, unable to believe her luck finding someone so wonderful. “I missed you, too.”

  The elevator doors opened...back onto the lobby. A startled tenant walked in with her tiny dog on a leash, eyeing them peculiarly.

  They hadn’t pressed the button.

  Somehow they made it to Ames’s floor before they cracked up, hurrying to get into his apartment, where he drew her into his arms again and
was kissing her madly before they got more than six inches across the threshold.

  Wonderful kisses, heart-swelling, chest-aching, fabulous kisses, the kind of kisses that felt like forever, because who would ever not want to feel exactly like this?

  “Eva.” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing unsteadily. “We need to talk. We have really important things to say to each other, and really serious stuff to face, and I think if we keep kissing right now we’ll just have crazed-beast sex, and that’s—”

  “A great idea, I agree.” She pulled off her pink lace shirt, worn over a black-and-white polka-dot camisole that exposed and enhanced a good portion of her breasts.

  Which apparently short-circuited his poor male brain, because he could only stand there staring with his tongue hanging out.

  Figuratively, thank goodness.

  His mental prowess didn’t improve when she kicked off her patent-leather mules and pulled down her black miniskirt and pink leggings, leaving her in the camisole and matching black-and-white polka-dot string bikini panties.

  Yes, she had dressed with him in mind that morning. Heck, she’d done everything with him in mind since the hour she met him.

  “Uh...I...d’uh...”

  “Yes, Ames. Don’t strain yourself, sweetheart.” She led him to his bedroom, where he again took her in his arms, making incoherent growling noises that had her giggling so hard she ruined her big seduction moment, but that made everything else much more special and fun and distinctly Eva and Ames.

  She undressed him slowly, covering every inch of newly exposed skin with kisses, bites, tiny licks, letting him know how happy she was to be with him again.

  And when he was naked, he took off her panties and camisole, bending to suckle her breasts—one, then the other—while she tipped her head back, stroking his hair, savoring the feel of his warm mouth and tongue.

  Then he lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his dark and open and adoring, and her world changed.

  Ames was love. He was the reason she had never truly fallen for anyone before. She would stay in New York; she would sell her shop. Who knew what life held—she might make it back to California someday, but it would have to be with him.