If The Shoe Fits (6 page)

She missed the pot.

She didn’t, however, miss him. He took the
shot on the chin, then the bean bounced down his shirt.

“
Oh no.” Bella covered her lips
with her hands.
That
was the real tragedy. “I’m so
sorry.”

He wasn’t. It was just a shirt and just the
thing he needed to get his mind off her lips.

He grabbed an open can of black olives.
“Sorry? Not yet you’re not.” He turned his back to her.

“
Don’t worry. I’ll pay to have
your clothes cleaned.”

He stuck olives on the ends of his fingers
like he’d done when he was a kid. “Oh, you’re definitely going to
pay.” He turned around and lost the battle with his smile as he
flicked five “bombs” at her.

They hit her squarely in the chest.

For the space of a heartbeat she looked
shocked, then a sly smile slid across those lips. “That was just so
wrong.” She grabbed an oblong loaf of Italian bread and a hunk of
pepperoni that she tossed like a baseball, catching it and tossing
it again. “I only got you with one.”

“
You have to think offensively.”
He scooped the last spoonful of ricotta cheese from one of the tubs
and aimed it at her.

“
You wouldn’t.” Her loaf of bread
waivered.

“
You willing to risk it?” He
pulled the spoon back a little more.

She nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked
from the ricotta to his eyes. Reese tried to look stern, but the
lip-nibbling was distracting him.

He gave up both battles when she grabbed the
turkey baster full of spaghetti sauce and aimed it at him.
“Offensive enough?”

“
You win.” He set the ricotta
spoon on the steel table between them and laughed as he raised his
hands in surrender.

“
Back up.” Bella waved the sauce
launcher in circles.

“
You don’t trust me?”

“
I don’t really know you well
enough to know if I can or not.”

True, but Reese prided himself on his word
being golden. She needed to know that he was a stand-up
guy.

So he walked around the table, took the baster
from her, and set it down so it wouldn’t accidentally go off. “One
thing you need to know about me, Bella: you can always trust
me.”

But then she nibbled her lip and he suddenly
didn’t want to be trustworthy. No, he wanted to lay her down on
that table and start some
real
cookin’ in the kitchen, his
business and the auction, be dammed.

And, somehow, she was suddenly
closer.

It could have something to do with his hands
gripping her arms, but one taste; that’s all he wanted. One quick,
chaste taste of her lips and he’d leave her alone and go about his
business and everything would be fine. Then he’d never again have
to wonder what it would be like.

It was a pathetic argument that turned into a
complete lie the moment their lips touched, and he had to fight
with himself to stop from sweeping her up in his arms and doing
everything he wanted to with her on that table. She tasted so damn
good and her lips... ah, God. Her lips were the softest, plumpest,
most delectable set of lips he’d ever tasted, and her body fit
against him as if she’d been made just for him, and his blood
turned to fire as every ounce of it headed south—

What the
hell
was he doing?

Reese wrenched his lips from hers, his grip
tightening on her arms—to keep her or himself upright he wasn’t
sure. Didn’t matter because he shouldn’t have done this. Shouldn’t
have even
thought
about doing this and now what the hell was
he supposed to do? He’d come here to
hire
her for God’s
sake, not
maul
her. How was he supposed to work with her
now? Hell, his business was going down the tubes right in front of
him and those beautiful blue eyes.

“
I am
so
sorry.” For so
many things, not the least of which was that he needed her for the
auction. Damn Luke for scaring off Marisa. “That was inappropriate
of me. Here I was saying you could trust me and I go and do
something like that.” He had to let go of her; touching that soft
silky skin was making him think crazy thoughts, like how he could
make a relationship between them work.

He couldn’t. Been there, done that, screwed
everything up.

“
I promise it won’t happen again,
Bella. Please say you’ll still consider doing the
auction.”

“
I, uh…” She exhaled and ran a
hand through her hair. It helped that he wasn’t the only one
rattled by their kiss. “Yes. I will. Definitely. I want the
job.”

“
Good. Great.” He finally pulled
his hands away and shoved them into his pockets. “So, ah… what was
that about?”

When her gaze flew to his lips, Reese realized
what he’d just said. “I mean,
that
.” He nodded toward the
dining room. “Out there. Earlier. I take it he does that
often?”

“
More than I’d like.” Bella braced
her palms on the counter behind her then leaned against
it.

Away
from him. A smart move he ought to
imitate.

He didn’t. “So why not fire him?”

“
Fire Gus? I can’t do that. He’s
like family to me.”

“
But when it affects your
business, that’s a problem. What would you do if I weren’t here to
help?”

Her pointed look reminded just how much he’d
helped
. “I can handle it. I’ve done it before.”

“
But, again, you shouldn’t have
to.”

She crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed,
any trace of what they’d just shared gone. “You run your business
your way and I’ll run mine my way.”

She looked just as sexy standing up for
herself as she did when she nibbled her lip.

Not appropriate, Charmant
.

Right.

“
Except that your business, Bella,
is now going to be my business. I can’t have him quitting at the
last minute and throwing the entire auction into an uproar.” He was
one to talk about throwing things into an uproar.

“
Don’t worry. He won’t. He’s a
professional.”

Was that a dig?
He
hadn’t been
professional and he ought to just leave this entire thing alone and
be thankful she wasn’t shoving him and his offer out the door. “If
you’re sure…”

“
I am.” She grabbed the baster and
ran it under a stream of water from the faucet. “Don’t worry,
Reese. You won’t regret hiring me.”

He already did. But not for the reason she
thought.

Chapter Six

As Reese left the restaurant, he sent a quick
Thank you
heavenward that he hadn’t screwed up and that
Bella was still on board.

Then he turned the corner and saw his car.
Someone
wanted to get screwed.

There was a woman draped over his
Ferrari.

Trouble. With capital double Ds.

“
Can I help you?”

The woman, her body melting onto the sleek
contours, blood-red manicured hands caressing the hood as if it
were a mink coat, gave him the once-over.
Twice
. A
sex-kitten smile followed as she pushed herself off the car, her
impressive—and cosmetically enhanced, he was sure—chest leading.
She licked the slight pout of her lips, their color matching her
nails, and tossed a curl over her shoulder as she sashayed toward
him.

“
I think you certainly can
definitely help me,” she purred, stopping just shy of a chest-on
collision.

As if he hadn’t seen this before. Women were
always throwing themselves at pro players.

Brassy hair color, heavy makeup, size two
clothing on a size eight body… Was she working this corner or had a
friend of his mistakenly thought it was his birthday?

She looked up, batting fake eyelashes. Why did
women think guys liked
fake
anything on a woman?

“
I was told that a handsome stud
drove that car.” Again with the once-over. “My information was
correct.” She traced a long claw down the front of his shirt. “I’m
Staci Fontaine and I just
had
to meet the man who could, um…
tame
that engine.”

Someone needed to tame her and he wasn’t
volunteering for the job.

Reese stepped back, almost choking from the
perfume she must have bathed in. “I’d be happy to oblige, but I
have an appointment.” He got into the car, but wasn’t quick enough
to prevent her from slithering her way between his seat and the
door.

She leaned against the door and rubbed her leg
along his thigh. “Do you eat at this restaurant often?”

Christ. As a pick-up line, it was lame at
best. As a legitimate question, no way was he going to give her the
chance to stalk him. He might have to stay away from Bella, but he
wasn’t desperate for female company. “I had a meeting with the
caterer.”

“
Bella?”

Great. Dolly Parton-gone-downtown knew Bella.
He nodded, and tugged on the door.

The chick could
not
take a
hint.

Then, to make matters worse, he heard a
nasally, off-key, “Oh, Prince Charming!” from across the
street.

Creepy Stalker Chick from the other day was
back. Reese groaned. This kept getting worse.

But it quickly got better when the tacky
bombshell jumped to her feet and turned toward Creepy Stalker
Chick, giving Reese the sliver of space he needed to slam the door.
Then he turned on the ignition and threw the stick shift into first
in one movement. A quick salute and he pulled into traffic before
the women knew what he was up to.

It was just as well they’d showed up; he
didn’t need to spend any more time mooning over
something—some
one
—he couldn’t have.

***

Jonathan Griff nearly fell off his chair.
Whether that was in glee over their kiss, horror because Staci was
acting like a strumpet, or pride because he’d
finally
mastered subliminal messaging, Jonathan didn’t know. He was just
thankful that Reese had acted on his suggestion to head to the
restaurant this morning instead of calling Bella to ask her. He
hadn’t foreseen just how well it would work out, but he was quite
pleased with the results.

Well, until Staci had shown up. He needed to
have a talk with that girl’s Guardian. Something must be done so
she’d act like a rational human being instead of a cat on the
prowl.

Jonathan snorted. He believed in miracles—had
seen quite a few—but he wasn’t sure Staci toning it down was
possible even for a Guardian. The Boss knew, Madeleine’s Guardian
hadn’t had any better luck with
her
either.

But Madeleine and Staci were other Guardians’
problems and Jonathan had enough issues with his two—most of which
could only be helped by that wonderful kiss and their
soon-to-happen convergence of agendas.

He sat back in his chair and took a sip of
lemonade. Cool and sweet, the perfect thing for a perfect
springtime.

And oh, was it going to be perfect.

***

“
Now look what you did, Drew!”
Staci yelled. “You scared him off!”

“
I did not.” Drew stomped her
foot.

Typical. Staci would have thought that, at
some point, her sister would have grown up. It was so embarrassing
being related to someone who was still stuck in high school
mode.

“
You did that all by yourself,
Stace.”

“
How do you know him?”

Drew wobbled her head like the airheaded
bobble-head she was. Smug little witch. “I met him
yesterday.”

Staci didn’t like that one bit. “So...” She
twisted a lock of her two-hundred-dollar-freshly-colored hair.
“What’s his name?”

That knocked the air of superiority out of
Drew. Good. Her sister should never try to out-think her. It was
never going to happen.

“
Well, I didn’t actually
meet
him.” Drew shrugged. “He was helping Bella get up. You
know what a klutz she can be.”

Staci nodded as if this was an accepted fact,
but she’d never known her stepsister to be anything but
disgustingly graceful. And competent. And cheerful. On everybody’s
BFF list. As goody-goody as the real Cinderella, and completely
annoying to be related to. Talk about a perfectly cliché-d
nickname.

“
Anyhow,” Drew continued, “I
caught sight of that car. I mean, who wouldn’t? Then Mr. Gorgeous
there was having a chat with good ol’ Cindabella. Naturally, I had
to save the poor man from a cooking lesson.”

“
He did say he’d met with the
caterer.” Staci tapped her lips. Tacky she might be, even cheap in
the eyes of a few, but dumb she wasn’t. The jury was still out on
Drew.

“
Let’s go find out why,” said
Drew. “That’s twice in two days he’s seen her. What’s she got that
we don’t?”

It was on the tip of Staci’s tongue to say,
“Brains,” but Drew would think she meant both of them and that so
wasn’t true. Instead, she shoved open the door to Casteleoni’s,
bracing herself as she always had ever since Mother had told them
she was going to marry Sal.