Page 33 of Turn Up The Heat

“Oh, please. Everyone who? Your parents? Sweetie, you’re twenty-seven. It’s time to cut the strings,” Jenna said.

“Not when the strings have owned and operated a very successful realty business together for over twenty yearsandpaid for me to get a very expensive MBA. It’s no secret that they’re expecting me to join their company as soon as I get enough experience. Sure, they love me, but it would be kind of tough to swallow if I waltzed in and said I suddenly hated big business. Plus, what the hell would I do? Sitting around resting on my laurels isn’t going to pay the bills.”

Jenna cranked out a grin. “Your answer’s right in front of you, you know.”

Holly frowned and pulled back. “I don’t get it.”

“You just said it yourself, Hol. Who makes the best blueberry muffins you’ve ever had?” Jenna’s eyes lasered in on Bellamy, and her implication hit like a crate full of cannonballs.

“Oh, come on, Jenna. You can’t be serious. You think I should sell muffins for a living?”

“No, dumbass. But becoming a chef wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Bellamy’s laugh was completely involuntary. “Come on. Whipping up a batch of goodies for you guys here and there is one thing. Trying to make a living of it when you have no experience and no formal training whatsoever? It’s not even close! Culinary school takes years, and even then, I’d be starting a career path completely from scratch.”

That’s why they called it a dream job, right? Because clearly, Bellamy would be dreaming if she thought someone would pay her to cook for a living.

“You know what, B? Your being a chef isn’t a half-bad idea,” Holly said.

“It’s an insane idea,” Bellamy corrected. Pipe dreams were great, but it was time for her to get back to reality. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out this mess before that yoga-pilates fusion class that’s supposed to leave me stress-free and give me a butt you can bounce a quarter off of.”

Jenna shook her head with a soft chuckle. “Okay. But I’m telling you. You should think about the chef thing.”

Right, Bellamy thought as she scrolled through her phone to access her email. Like anything more unlikely could happen than her blazing off on a new career path.

It made her impulsive evening making out under the stars with Mr. It’s-Not-You look rational in comparison.

* * *

Shane layflat on his back, looking up into the belly of the Mach 1 and thinking he’d be a billionaire if he could come up with a cure-all for being a complete jackass.

Oh, that and he wouldn’t feel like shit over how his night with Bellamy had ended.

He replayed the whole thing in his mind for the hundredth time, picturing her green eyes glaring at him up on the Ridge. He hated that he’d been unable to meet that pretty yet pissed off stare before she walked away with nothing more than a clipped “goodnight” and her head held high. Man, how come doing the right thing felt so crappy?

Maybe because if he’d been smart in the first place, he’d have stayed the hell away from her.

“Shane? You in here?”

Shane’s face creased in confusion as he pushed himself out from under the car with a booted heel. “Grady? What’re you doing here on a Sunday?” Even from his vantage point on the floor, Shane could see the concern on the old man’s face as he walked into the garage.

“Lookin’ for you,” he said, his gravelly voice going all matter-of-fact.

“You found me. Is everything okay?” Shane sat up, nursing a twinge of concern.

Grady gave a singular, solid nod in the affirmative and looked around the garage. Shane winced as Grady’s gaze swept over Bellamy’s convertible. It was obvious not only that Shane had pulled out the old tranny to make way for the new one, but that Grady knew Shane had done it without him. The last thing he wanted was to overstep his bounds.

“Been busy, I see.”

Shane would’ve rather heard anger than the recognition that went with Grady’s words, as if he’d pegged exactly why Shane had been spending so much time in the garage.

“Yeah, sorry. I was bored. I just figured I’d keep my mind straight by starting on it.” He nodded over at Bellamy’s car, trying not to let his thoughts slip to its driver.

“Jackson help you muscle the old one outta there?”

Guilt washed over Shane in the silence that followed. He should’ve waited for Grady, or at least called him to tell him he was going to pull the transmission. Shit.

Grady continued. “You’re good, but I got a feeling that tranny was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. It probably gave the two of you a run for your money, yeah?”

---