Page 8 of A Taste of Trouble

She'd learned more than that. “If the bartending thing ever falls through, you can always become a professional pool player.”

She rested her hip against the bar and stuck her hands in her pockets. “I won't be a bartender for much longer. I'm going into business for myself.”

He already knew all about her plan to open a bakery, but he was distracted by her scent. He inhaled deeply, savoring it, never taking his eyes off her. Watching those soft, plump lips made it hard for him to concentrate, but he kept the conversation on track and played along. “Are you opening a bar? I'd definitely be a regular.”

Ugh. He made himself sick with his attempt at small talk. When did he become the King of Cheese?

“A bakery. On the corner of Eglinton and Greenway. Right now I'm working at Sweet Creations. You know the bakery just a few blocks from here?”

He nodded. He knew all about her employment status, too.

“If you're ever in the mood for something sweet, you should stop by.”

Jake silently cursed his plan. There was no mistaking her interest. She held his gaze, desire dancing in her black eyes. They were mesmerizing, like an iris with no pupil. Jake itched to reach out and pull her over the bar, sitting her on his lap, stroking the smooth strands of her black hair.

“When do you open the doors?” he asked.

At first, she looked confused. The desire danced in her eyes ten seconds before it dissipated and she straightened. “In a few weeks.” She hesitated and bit her bottom lip. “I hope. I have a lot of things to do before the city will let me open for business.”

“I'm sure you're on top of it.”

“Thanks.” Her face softened and she smiled.

Something constricted in his chest. It was usually his crotch that reacted to a beautiful woman, but this time, Liv touched something inside of him he hadn't felt before. At first, it was the fact she was a ten on the hotness scale. A hard ten. But with only a few minutes of conversation, something else touched him. Was it her desire to follow her dream?

Liv was another person following their passion, solidifying Jake's decision to follow his own dream and accept his boss's proposition—no matter the cost.

He pushed aside his desire. His dream was more important than sleeping with a beautiful woman. Right, and if he said it enough he'd believe it. But he and Liv had something in common, a dream. She was opening her own business, and if Jake's plan went accordingly, he would be fast on his way to doing PR for an art gallery. She would understand if she knew the truth.

The truth. She deserved the truth. But a little white lie wasn't the end of the world. In fact, with Shelton on her side, this little white lie would only bring her closer to achieving her dream.

“Liv, dear.” An older woman made her way behind the bar. “Why don't you go home? I'll close up tonight.”

“Really?” Jake saw her ecstatic expression in the mirror behind the bar. Her eyes were intense, a gateway to her emotions. He wondered if she knew they gave her away.

After an exchange of words, Liv shuffled over to the register and pocketed her tips. She opened a cabinet and grabbed her coat and bag. She struggled with it, Jake unable to miss the fact that she had three or four books stuffed inside the black bag. And if he wasn't mistaken, she had a Leslie James book in there. Leslie James was his client, and he was in the middle of planning the launch party for her new book. An idea formulated in his mind. A brilliant idea.

“You're heading out?” It was probably smart to pretend he hadn't just heard her entire conversation.

“I am.” She turned around to face him with a cute little twist. “Would you walk me to my car?”

Jake had to keep himself from jumping off his stool, his stomach tightening. “I'm ready when you are.”

She cocked her head toward the back door. He collected himself and sauntered around the bar to meet her. His body tensed in anticipation. She hefted her heavy bag on her shoulder and bundled up before leading him through the metal door into the alley—t

he dark, deserted alley—and he cradled the small of her back with his hand.

“My car is just over there.” She pointed to a vehicle, a four-door sedan. Practical, durable, and black.

The dim light of the bulb above the back door did little to guide their way. The smell of grease hung in the air, mixing with the pungent scent of garbage that wafted from the Dumpster. All of that was overpowered the minute she walked in front of him and her sugary, sweet scent threw his senses into a frenzy.

They walked over to her car and, as they approached, she pulled out her keys and unlocked the doors with a double chirp of the remote. She rested on the car, her back arched, her chest toward him. If only the cold weather didn't warrant her wearing a coat over that tiny T-shirt he'd become fond of.

He leaned in and rested one hand against the cold metal of the car.

“What brought you and your friends here tonight?” she asked, the words rolling off her tongue like satin.

“Brian heard that this bar was crawling with hot bartenders,” he said. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth.

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