Page 14 of Skin Deep

“Oh, a dozen, at least.” She offered him a wry smile before closing her eyes, biting into the garlic bread and groaning. When she opened them again, Fred was looking at her with intention written on his face that made her mouth go dry.

“Make that sound again and we’re going to do some inappropriate things right here, right now, while Phyllis the security guard could happen along any minute.” The amusement curling up the corners of his lips told her that he might not mind that overly much. She wouldn’t, either, truth be told—she’d always had an exhibitionist streak. But she also knew better than to combine sex with the romance on display here.

She didn’t want the feelings that might come along for the ride.

“Guess we need a distraction, then, because if the rest of the meal is this good, I make no promises.” She bit into the bread again but this time kept her eyes open and took her time.

“A distraction. Right.” Fred swallowed thickly, running a hand through that thick, dark red hair until it stood up on end. “Oh! I forgot the last component to our picnic.”

“Last component?” She cocked her head, questioning, as he pulled out his cell and a portable Bluetooth speaker. A moment later, music wafted from the small device, and Amy dropped her bread right into the fountain water.

“‘Ordinary World’? Duran Duran?” Her mouth was dry. “This is my favorite song. My absolute favorite song. How on earth did you know?”

“I didn’t know it was your favorite.” He grinned, and it was the sexiest freaking thing she’d ever seen. “But I noticed that you’re always playing ’80s music. I, ah, made a playlist. To go with the picnic.”

She couldn’t do anything but stare. Romance wasn’t something that usually came her way. Lots of men—and women—wanted a wild night or two with a woman covered in tattoos and piercings and confidence. They never thought, though, that she might want—need, even—something more.

She didn’t often think that she did. And now it was being given to her by the man hiding something from her.

As Fred handed her a second hunk of bread to replace the one now floating in the middle of the fountain, she wondered what the hell she was supposed to do with that.

Maybe...maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’d never intended to give her that letter. Or maybe his family had told him to, but he didn’t want to, because it was her. He hadn’t mentioned it, after all, not even when she’d deliberately poked at him this afternoon.

Maybe...maybe she could let down her guard, just a little bit. They had chemistry. Maybe they could have more, even just for a little while.

“How’s your dinner?” Fred gestured to the paper carton of fettucine alfredo that was good enough to make Amy’s toes curl. “I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, but this is from Luigi’s. I have lunch there sometimes, and I just can’t understand why they’re not ever busy.”

“That’s the one by the north entrance?” Amy twirled her fork in the rich noodles. Fred nodded. “They’re not busier because they just rely on traffic to the plaza.”

“What do you mean?” Fred furrowed his brow and stilled, a forkful of spaghetti noodles frozen in midair. “The plaza does heavy marketing itself, to get people in the door. That’s why it costs more to lease a retail space here.”

“As someone who pays that higher monthly lease, I’m well aware,” Amy replied dryly. “But a smart business owner uses that as just a base. If every shop in the plaza promoted themselves even a little bit, this place would see double the traffic at least. It doesn’t take much. Social media posts about new items in stock, or contests, or special events. Every little effort to get people through the door helps out every other vendor.”

“Events like the one you held today?” Something in his voice had Amy looking up sharply. His face revealed nothing, but something told her she wasn’t going to like whatever it was he said next.

“Exactly.” Slowly, aware of his eyes on her, she twirled another fork full of noodles and slid them into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “All I did was send out a newsletter to my mailing list and make a couple of social media posts. It took hardly any effort, but look how many people were here.”

“There were a lot of people, and that’s great.” She heard the but before it came out of his mouth. “But I guess I’m wondering why you had it in the promenade, instead of inside your shop?”

Amy was rarely embarrassed, and she rarely second-guessed her decisions. Hearing Fred ask her this simple question in a quiet, level voice, however, made her squirm a bit on the marble bench. She was pretty sure that because I wanted to annoy the hell out of you wasn’t the right answer.

“Why not?” She shrugged to avoid the question, then set her carton of pasta down, fork sticking out. “Thank you so much for dinner. I’m so full.”

“Look, I get that you don’t like to play by the rules. It’s one of things that fascinated me about you since the first time I saw you.” Fred yanked on his tie to loosen it. “But sometimes you need to think about how what you’re doing affects others.”

“Excuse me?” Amy froze midreach for her wineglass. His words had been mild, but they stung regardless. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Amy—” he sighed, loosening the tie entirely and pulling it up, over his head and off “—come on. Can’t you see why your neighboring stores might not have liked what you did today?”

“You mean by getting some foot traffic into their boring storefronts?” Her cheeks flushed. “They’re welcome.”

“Right. But you were still the star of the show. The one getting all the attention...while they were the ones following the rules.” He pinned her with a stare. “And you know...if it happened over and over again, they might start to resent it. They might want to do something about it.”

Amy slowly touched a hand to her side and felt the paper envelope crinkle again beneath her touch. So that’s why this lovely little missive had come to exist. Heat blazed along her skin as emotions tangled in her gut—a touch of embarrassment, incredulity and, under it all, a snaking tendril of hurt.

Fred had no way of knowing this yet, but when she got hurt, she kicked back.

“What are you saying here?” She uncrossed her legs and straightened her spine. “I assume there’s a point to the lecture?”

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