T H I R T E E N
- Avery -
T he first time he asked me to have dinner, I thought I imagined it. In fact, I only brought it up again to see if I’d been hallucinating, and realizing I hadn’t been kind of freaked me out.
I mean, fantasizing about the guy was one thing, but this real time tête-à-tête was another beast entirely. Yes, he was hot. Yes, I was confident he could replace the current aches and pains in my body with much more interesting ones. Yes, his attention made me feel that delicious sort of flustered I hadn’t felt since I was a smitten schoolgirl.
However, there was nothing safe about this guy, and I was supposed to be shirking danger, not letting it take me out to dinner. As handsome as he was, he was renowned for breaking people, and I couldn’t afford to be broken right now. I was finally starting to feel secure in my singledom.
His thick brows rose with impatience. “I know you don’t have a boyfriend, so why reject a harmless invitation?”
“How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?” she asked.
“Because you would’ve said you did when I asked you.”
“Not necessaril—”
“And you would’ve worn pants instead of pigtails to the baking festival.”
I scowled at him. “Lucky guess.”
“So go out with me.”
The woman by the window finally started wrangling her kids together, and based on the mess they’d made, you’d swear there were twelve of them instead of two. “It’s not a harmless invitation.”
“In what way?”
“Well, let’s suppose you decide you like me—”
“I do like you,” he said. “Thought that was obvious.”
I swallowed and ignored the way the back of my neck burned. “Let’s say your intention is to sleep with me.”
“What makes you say that?” he asked, failing to suppress a smirk.
“Because you’re a man who’s asked me out without bothering to ask my name.”
He raised his palms as if to surrender. “Okay. Fair point. Let’s imagine, hypothetically, that I want to sleep with you.”
“What if someone finds out and suggests we didn’t really deserve to win the Star Baker award?”
He recoiled. “Is the baking world really that cutthroat?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Even so,” he said, his intense gaze studying me. “You don’t really care about that, do you?”
“Actually, my best— boss —has been trying to win that plaque for six years. So yeah. I do care.”
“I see.”
See what? God it was hot in here all of a sudden.
“Are you in the habit of broadcasting who you sleep with?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good,” he said. “Me neither.”
“But what if it doesn’t end well?” I asked, and you end up being another irredeemable asshole who takes advantage of me . “And you write something nasty about the café?”
His brows drew together. “Do you really think I’m that petty?”
“I have no idea how petty you are. All I know is that you’re in the fault-finding business, and I’m happily retired from that way of moving through the world.”
“You’ve obviously given this some thought.”
My stomach sank when I realized I’d probably already put the café at risk by rejecting him. And if he was going to destroy us anyway, shouldn’t I at least get laid? I shook the thought from my mind as quickly as I had it. Yes, my best friend was loved up in Paris with her soulmate, and I hadn’t been on a date in months. But Oliver Harrington?! I’d be asking for trouble!
The bookworm in the corner slurped down the last of his soda and stuffed his book in his briefcase loudly enough that Oliver looked over his shoulder at him. We were less than thirty seconds away from being alone, and the thought made my heart race and my body clench all over.
I took a deep breath as the bell rang over the door, and when Oliver turned back around, he used his shovel hands to twist the cap off the orange soda in front of him. “What’s your name?” he asked, lifting the bottle halfway to his lips.
“Avery.”
“Seems you’ve got me all figured out, Avery.”
I held my ground.
“But I’ve got your number, too.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, wondering if he was as cut under his blue dress shirt as he looked.
“My point is, I’ve wanted to sleep with you since the moment I saw you.”
My lower body surged, and it took all the strength I could muster to keep from squirming.
“But I think there’s more to you than your beautiful face and banging body, which is why I didn’t come here to invite you to my bedroom. I asked you to dinner. Because you have to eat anyway, and I can tell by the way you squirm in your clothes around me that you aren’t as put off by my company as you’re pretending.”
Shit . “I’m not dating right now,” I admitted weakly.
“It’s not a date. It’s dinner. And you have to eat anyway.”
I glanced towards the plaque in the window, remembering the sparkle in Grace’s proud eyes when she won it.
“And no matter what happens, I promise I won’t let it influence my opinion of your best boss’s café.”
I stared at him, overwhelmed by the pull of his undeniable power. Did he really think I was beautiful? And had I really done such a poor job of hiding my attraction to him?
“Say yes, and I promise I won’t try to sleep with you even if you beg.”
I scoffed, but the weight of his attention only increased.
“Not tonight anyway,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “I’m only a man, after all, as you so deftly observed.”
“Did you come all the way here just to ask me out?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you think?” He took a sip of his soda, which he didn’t know existed until three minutes ago. And he was probably so used to getting free food everywhere he went, it seemed unlikely that he found the prospect of the loyalty card that enticing. As for the cake…
Every cell of my body was stretching towards him the way sunflowers ache towards the sun, but I could feel myself being manipulated by his charisma and movie star good looks. What about all those mean things he writes about innocent people trying to earn an honest living? Was there any chance a decent person would earn a living that way?
“What if I say no?” I asked, curious how his quick tongue would tackle the question.
He shrugged. “Then you’ll have to spend the rest of your life wondering if you were right about me or if blowing me off was the biggest mistake of your life.”
It was such an arrogant thing to say, but it wasn’t completely untrue. Plus, I liked his confidence. It was like kryptonite to me. “I can’t tonight.”
His eyes probed mine, making it hard for me to breathe. “Saturday then. I’ll take you to one of my favorite places.”
My chest tightened. He wasn’t asking.
“That way, even if you find my company foul, the meal will more than make up for it.”
The staring contest that followed made me believe tantric sex might actually be a thing.
“Say yes.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Where do you want to meet?” I asked, assuming he had as much resistance to sharing his personal address with strangers as I did.
“There’s a record store on 5th and Palmetto—”
I nodded. “I know it.”
“The main entrance at seven?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” He picked up the cake box by the string with one hand and took a step back. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he said, his eyes full of mischief. “So you shouldn’t have any trouble finding me.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” I said, staying rooted to my spot as he left, the air thinning as soon as the door closed behind him. And as the fog around me lifted and my heart rate slowed, I felt my whole body bloom.
Because I had a date. With a real man. A real man with a real job who wanted to take me out even though, as far as he knew, baking brownies was the only thing I was any good at. But he was in for the surprise of his life. Because if he liked me in my Barbie Bakes wardrobe, he was going to love me when I dressed to impress.
And as I cleaned the ridiculous mess at the front of the café, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
Oliver Harrington knows my name.