Page 23 of Sweet Rivals

“I was told to bring you our vendors list,” I said, worrying that my mother had set me up in some way that I couldn’t quite discern.

“Ah, yes, very prompt of you,” he said, and I felt the mocking tone slither over my skin, reminding me that I was angry, not embarrassed or shy or demure.

I wrapped my anger around me like a protective armor before brushing past him. The side of my arm moved against his, and I ignored the tingling goosebumps that rose on my skin at the contact.

“Sounds like I came at the wrong time. I’ll just take the vendor lists and come back another time. Maybe tomorrow,” I said.

“No need to rush off,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you leaving before we found your runaway pen.”

“Keep it,” I said as I got to the door and lifted the binders into my arms, feeling pleased with my pettiness.

“Jenna, wait,” he said and now his voice was serious for the first time.

I paused with the door partially open, the warm air pushing against the artificial chill of the darkened bakery.

“Will you please go over the vendors with me?”

Chapter Eighteen

Ispun on my heels and crossed the room again so that I was face to face with him. Well, more like face to broad, muscled chest barely hidden beneath a tight t-shirt. Did this guy ever wear anything other than casual clothes? I looked up and met his eyes.

“I find it hard to believe that someone who has successfully opened many restaurants needs my help finding vendors. This binder is full of seafood and meat vendors. What is your real agenda?” I asked.

“I really do need the help,” he said.

“Stop bullshitting me. Do I look as gullible as my parents and every other person on this beach who sees a pseudo-celebrity and starts falling all over themselves?” I asked, pointing my finger into his chest and making him step backward. I continued advancing, pressing my finger into his muscles until his back was up against a wall and there was only an inch of space between us. “I am not interested in this endeavor beyond how quickly it will fold. You think you can show up here with your big business tactics that work for your chain restaurants in the big cities and somehow get this bakery off the ground. But it isn’t going to work.”

“Now I’m a pseudo-celebrity?” he asked with a lift of his eyebrows as I huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Is my bakery going to fail because you are going to sabotage it?”

“No. It’s going to fail because the skillset you have doesn’t work in small towns,” I said.

“I guess that's why I need your vendor list,” he said with a smirk.

I had walked right into that one. Damn it.

“Bullshit. These vendors aren’t going to mean shit without forming a relationship with them. Aside from your smarmy smirk, you have been a different person every time I have met you. You are either entirely void of personality, or you are absolutely chock full of shit. So which one is it?”

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” he said.

“See, there you go again. Gone is the arrogant know-it-all, or the sarcastic funny guy, or the charming celebrity, now all replaced with false humility,” I said.

“At last, I am a celebrity again,” he said.

“Ahh!” I shouted with a roll of my eyes ready to turn in a huff of anger.

“Are we ever going to talk about our kiss?” he asked, stopping me in my tracks.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I nearly choked on it as it beat frantically. I was under the impression that we had an unspoken agreement to never speak of that again now that we were bitter rivals, pitted in a battle for the beach bakery. What the hell was he doing bringing that up.

He looked down at me, eyes drilling into my skull, waiting for a response. We really were standing incredibly close. Too close. Why had I moved so close? I could feel the heat from his body and suddenly, my own skin felt like it was on fire with need. Had it really been that long since I had gotten laid that just being in close proximity to a handsome man made my brain melt? Or was there something about Jared?

I didn’t like cooks. They were arrogant know-it-alls who thought that I was pliable just because I had a people pleaser streak. Okay, maybe I was a little more pliable than I would like, but still. My general rule remained—stay far, far away from cooks. Jared was proving that rule right every time he opened his mouth. Still, I couldn’t stop picturing his full lips pressed against mine in that confident, forceful way that he had only two days ago.

“No,” I said. My voice came out in a whisper of breathlessness at the inappropriate thoughts trying to push past my rational rules.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I thought you were desperate for these vendors. If not, I am leaving, and you will be on your own,” I said.

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