Deliciously Sinful (10 page)

Obviously surprised, he looked up. Then his expression totally changed. A huge smile broke out across his face, such as Phoebe had never seen on him before. In awe, she stared at him as he slapped his white towel over his shoulder and jumped—literally jumped—over the bar. Who knew he was so limber?

Arms crossed across her chest, Phoebe watched as Nick embraced the petite women in a big ol’ bear hug. The hug seemed to last forever.

She didn’t want to be jealous, really she didn’t…

Why did Goldie have to look so damn good? Phoebe looked down at her own long skirt, dirty and wrinkly from a hard day’s work. Her T-shirt was no better, and she wished she were wearing something a bit more feminine. Sexy. Revealing. Not that she had anything to reveal. Still. She couldn’t help feeling nothing but dowdy next to the gorgeous blonde currently embraced in Nick’s arms.

That jealous ball churned a bit more inside her tummy.

Goldie looked like she’d just stepped out of a catalog. Her jeans were obviously designer. And tight. Tight enough to show off an ass and legs that obviously spent many hours running on a treadmill to make them so firm and fabulous.

She wore boots. Spiky-heeled shiny black concoctions, into which were tucked the hems of those amazing jeans.

Phoebe shuffled in her sandals. Normally she didn’t care about such things as clothing or being current with the latest fashions. She was who she was. She wore what went with whatever job she was doing. Most days, she went about her business in her beat-up overalls, which were usually dirty from farming. And at the restaurant, she just threw on a comfy skirt, a T-shirt, and her trusty sandals. It was fine. She fit in where she lived, and she was comfortable. It was important to be comfortable.

Right.

Finally, Nick pulled back to gaze at the blonde woman. “Sherry! What the
fuck
are you doing here?”

She gave him a little secretive smile that made Phoebe want to hurl. Why she should be so affected by their secret little exchange was a total mystery.

And yet there it was. Jealousy that Nick shared something private with this woman, that they shared a past. It was insane, but Phoebe couldn’t totally repress a feeling of envy that this gorgeous woman had a history with Nick.

The blonde said, “Pour me a glass of wine, and I’ll tell you.”

“’Course, love.”

And for some reason, hearing those words come out of Nick’s mouth, aimed at another woman, made something deep inside Phoebe’s gut feel sick.

And that feeling scared the daylights out of her.

“Excuse me. I have to… um…”

Everyone turned and looked at her. She felt her neck begin to flush.

Don’t let them see you blush. Don’t let them see anything.

“I have to check the stockroom. For cheese.”

“Cheese?” Nick asked. “You keep cheese in the stockroom?”

Damn.
“It’s, yeah. Special aged cheese.”

“And you need it now?” Jesse asked.

“I think it would be lovely with the wine. Okay, I’m going to fetch the cheese now.”

And as she marched toward the stockroom, she felt them all staring at her. She slammed the door behind her.

S
o nice to see you, love.”

That was the first phrase she caught when she emerged from the stockroom. With a deep breath, she returned to the group so cozily gathered in front of the kitchen. “Well, I guess we’re out of cheese.”

Nick just looked at her but didn’t call her on her obvious fabrication. He couldn’t know, could he? That she’d spent five minutes breathing. Calming her nerves. Fighting this ugly feeling of envy geared toward a woman she didn’t even know.

Love. He was calling this woman “love”? As if she needed reminding, Phoebe’s ass immediately began to sting, and she remembered what he’d done to her in the stockroom. When he’d kissed her in the kitchen. When she’d kissed him back and later, he’d called
her
love.

Phoebe tamped down the reaction of hurt and, if she were being honest with herself, betrayal. Hating Nick, she watched as he jogged off toward the steps to the wine cellar.

Whatever vintage he chose was
so
coming out of his paycheck.

Familiar with the café, Steve had pitched in earlier, as he did most Saturday nights. Now he was perched on a barstool, finishing off a nice cab they’d opened earlier. He was also staring at Sherry as if she were a movie star. Hell, maybe she was. Phoebe wouldn’t be any the wiser. She wasn’t exactly an expert on Hollywood stars.

Steve jumped up and pulled out a chair for Sherry. She perched her tight little ass on the stool and smiled brightly at him. Her brother-in-law turned bright red.

What the heck was going on? Phoebe thought she was the only one in the family cursed with the blushing gene. Furthermore, she hadn’t seen Steve react to any woman since Judy had passed.

Walking toward them, Phoebe held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Phoebe.”

Sherry turned on her stool and—if possible—her smile got even wider. Phoebe nearly flinched from the glare of her white teeth.

Still, Phoebe had to admit the woman seemed friendly. She considered herself a good judge of character, and there was definitely something sincere in Sherry’s huge blue eyes.

“You must be the manager,” Sherry said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Phoebe narrowed her gaze. “You have?” She could only imagine what Nick had to say in regard to their working (or any other sort of) relationship.

“I certainly have.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “And can I just say, I am impressed. I know what an asshole he can be, and based on how frustrated he is, I’m willing to bet you’re holding your own. Good job!”

For a second, Phoebe was speechless. This woman, with her huge blue eyes, perfectly white skin, and perky lips, looked like a sweetheart. But she’d just called Nick, who was obviously a good friend of hers, an asshole.

Phoebe reached for two wineglasses and set them on the counter. Then she poured the remainder of cabernet out of the bottle on the counter.

She handed a glass to Sherry. “You obviously know Nick pretty well.”

“He’s one of my best friends. And I’m probably his only friend since I’m one of the few people who will actually put up with his bullshit.”

Phoebe just stared at this doll-like person. “Who
are
you?”

“Sherry Hart.” Closing her eyes, she took a small sip of the cab, swooshed it around her mouth, and eventually swallowed. Then her eyes popped open. “Lovely.
Ste. Michelle
?”

“Um, yes. How did you know?” Phoebe hadn’t seen Sherry even glance toward the bottle.

“Oh, it’s what I do. That’s how Nick and I met. I’m a wine distributor.”

“I see.”

But Phoebe didn’t see. She didn’t understand Nick and Sherry’s relationship, and she didn’t understand why he’d been so happy to see her—certainly happier than Phoebe had ever seen him since he’d arrived.

If she did understand his reaction to her, she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

She tamped down those feelings. That wasn’t fair, not at all. But it was hard to ignore the feelings this Sherry person had brought on. None of these things were her business. None of these things she had control over. Yet…no matter how much she repeated the affirmation, it didn’t sit right.

You can’t control everything.

Nope. Not sinking in.

So no. Phoebe didn’t see anything. Nothing made sense, not since Nick had arrived. Since the day he’d driven up in that yellow vehicular monster, she’d been covered in pudding, kissed senselessly by a man who thought waaaay too much of himself; she’d been whisked—

Sex in the stockroom. It sounded like a bad porn movie. She would have laughed at anyone who’d said she’d ever do such a thing. And yet she had several red, thin stripes on her bottom that told her she was perfectly capable of such behavior.

She glared down the hallway where Nick had just disappeared. It was him. He was making her do all kinds of things she wouldn’t ordinarily do. And she was letting him.

She was giving him power over her. And that simply would not do.

“Here we are.” Nick returned, holding a bottle of special reserve. He glanced up at her. “What?”

Phoebe tried to calm her heart, which was racing with irritation toward him. She narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“You’re looking at me as if you want to tear my head off.”

Nobody ever said she wasn’t transparent. So she tried to laugh it off. A high-pitched sound emerged from her mouth. “I don’t want to rip your head off. I would like a glass of wine, though. I see you picked my favorite vintage.”

Ignoring her, he took a corkscrew from his pocket.

Yeah, that wine was definitely coming out of his paycheck.

“Thanks, Nick,” Sherry said. “I’m just finishing up this lovely cab your boss poured for me.”

“Well, there’s always room for more good wine.”

Sherry held up her glass. “Cheers to that.”

“So,” Nick began as he uncorked the bottle, “are you going to tell me what you’re doing down here in Butt-Fuck, Nowhere, or not?”

Still not quite used to his tone, Phoebe flinched at Nick’s description of their community, but she refrained from saying anything. Obviously, the minute he got around one of his hoity-toity friends, he reverted back to his true personality of überjerk.

“Well,” Sherry said. “Guess who just landed the Northern California account?”

“Get out!” Nick poured himself a glass of Phoebe’s finest.

“That’s right,” Sherry said. “I’m now overseeing this region for my company. I’ll be coming up here all the time.”

“That’s great news,” Phoebe managed, and gulped some wine.

“Wow.” Nick held up his glass. “Congratulations!”

They clinked, and Nick glanced toward Phoebe. “I take it you met Sherry?”

Nodding, Phoebe swallowed. “Yup. Sure did.”

He beamed at the blonde. “She’s amazing. A true friend, this one.”

“Uh-huh.” Phoebe continued nodding. “That’s…great!” And drinking. Before she knew it, her glass was empty. That was fast. Where had the wine gone? Silently, she held out her glass toward Nick, who filled it without so much as a glance in her direction.

Because his attention was fully focused on Sherry. Sherry, with the perfect hair and chic style and a truly amazing dentist.

She heard a cough and looked over at Steve, who was also focusing his attention on Sherry. “So. You’ll be up here often?”

She nodded. “Indeed I will. And I have a feeling I’m going to truly enjoy my time here, Steve.”

“Sherry,” Steve said, his gaze fixed on hers, “you’re a wine distributor?”

“I am. I’ve been handling Southern California, but we’re expanding up here, and I’m going to oversee things until we hire a permanent manager. I’m going to start looking for new accounts first thing tomorrow.”

“That’s brilliant.” Nick looked downright thrilled.

“Yeah. Brilliant,” Phoebe muttered, and gulped more wine.

Why should she care? It made no difference to her—none whatsoever—if this Sherry person was suddenly going to be around all the time.

Obviously, Sherry and Nick had some type of relationship, and from the way they were looking at each other, Phoebe had to assume it was intimate.

She supposed that meant there would be no more trysts involving chocolate or whisks, but oh well. It was actually a good thing. Really, a very good thing.

Phoebe didn’t care one iota. Not one little bit. No sirree.

“Slow down, killer.” Nick nodded at her glass, which was nearly empty. Again. “This didn’t come out of a box, you know.”

Did he call her killer? From
love
to
killer
? Nice.

She glared at him. “I know. This came from my cellar, remember?”

“Yes, I do remember.” He was speaking ridiculously slowly. “Because the cellar is where I retrieved it from. I’m just saying, you might want to go a little slow on the wine. It’s your last bottle of this vintage.” He gave her a wink and took a tiny sip from his glass.

“What?” Despite the way she was chugging, this was actually her favorite wine, and he knew that. “Then why didn’t you bring out something different?”

“Because I wanted to pour something special for Sherry.”

“We have many special wines. Why did you have to go and pick this one?” Phoebe knew she was freaking out over nothing. She knew it, but for some reason she couldn’t stop herself.

“You did it just to annoy me. And by the way, where did all the other bottles go? We had ten as of last weekend.”

He shrugged. “Let me see…Just a crazy thought, but perhaps someone…
bought them
?”

“All righty, then.” Sherry slid off her stool.

Phoebe felt her neck burn. She couldn’t believe she’d been bickering with Nick like a teenager. In front of Sherry, no less. Now Sherry would believe all the horrible things Nick surely said about her management abilities.

“It’s been a long day. I think I’ll get back to the hotel and call it a night.”

“What hotel?” Nick said. “You can stay with me.”

“No!” Phoebe slapped a hand over her mouth. Looking around, she saw all gazes land on her.

She gathered herself. “I mean, there’s no guest room in the cabin.”

“So?” Nick said.

So? So they were going to just sleep together? After what Nick had done to Phoebe just hours ago? She thought her insides might explode.

Nick shrugged. “I’ll sleep on the sofa. Sherry can have my bed.”

“Oh. Oh.” Phoebe nodded. But they were still staring at her as if she were a crazy person. “I just…um, well, that won’t be very comfortable.”

Maybe she was a crazy person. Nick certainly made her feel that way. After all, why should Phoebe care where Nick or Sherry slept?

“Why don’t you stay in our guest room?”

Phoebe turned her glare to Steve, who had just made the offer. The offer of Sherry staying in
their
house.

“Oh, no. Thank you, but I couldn’t.” Sherry slipped her big fancy purse over her shoulder.

“It’s really not a problem,” Steve said. “We have plenty of room. You’d have your own bathroom. And full use of the kitchen.”

Phoebe could hardly believe Steve’s pleading tone of voice. Had they entered the twilight zone?

Sherry shook her head. “Really, I couldn’t impose like that.”

“And she can stay with me,” Nick said.

“No.” Phoebe pasted on a smile. “Steve’s right. I mean, that’s what I was going to say earlier, Sherry.” Phoebe gulped. “You should stay with us. We have room and a friend of Nick’s is a friend of…well, you know.”

Sherry looked from Phoebe to Nick, who shrugged. “They do have a huge place,” he said.

She glanced back to Phoebe. “And you’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“No. Of course not.”

“If you’re positive…”

“Yes, we’re very positive.” Steve pushed himself to his feet. “Do you have your things with you?”

Sherry nodded. “Yes. I haven’t even checked into the hotel yet. I wanted to come straight here and see Nick.”

“Then you can follow me. I’ll show you the way.”

And just like that, Sherry, Nick’s best friend, was Phoebe’s newest roommate.

“You.” Her gaze landed on Nick.

He eyed her warily. “What?”

“Ever since you arrived it’s been nothing but chaos and mayhem and…and…whisks!”

“Chaos and mayhem and whisks? Oh, my.”

“Shut up.”

“You started it.”

“No, you did!” The restaurant was almost clean, the staff had gone, and they were the only ones left.

She poured herself more wine. “You don’t listen. You can’t take an order. You think you’re the king of, of…
everything
.”

He slanted her a smug smile. “I didn’t hear you complaining earlier, love.”

The word was like a punch in the gut. “Do you call everyone that?”

“What?”

“
Luuuv.
” She drew out the syllable with a fake uppity British accent.

“No. Why?”

“You just seem to toss the word around as if it means nothing.”

“It’s just a word.”

She stalked around to the other side of the counter and started putting clean pots on the shelves.

“Phoebe?”

“What?”

He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “What’s wrong?”

She met his gaze. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why do you look as if you want to rip my head off? Again.”

Because I do.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She tried to shake him off her, but he held her firmly in place.

“Stop doing that,” she said.

“What?”

“Touching me. It’s inappropriate.”

He raised a brow. “Really? So how was it appropriate earlier when I had you naked in the storage room? Was it
appropriate
when I was spanking your ass?”

Her faced burned, but she lifted her chin. “No. That was very inappropriate.”

He took the soup pot out of her hands and placed it on a shelf. Then he turned to her. “You’re crazy.”

“You make me crazy.”

“I do what I can.”

She clenched her fists to keep from punching him. “I swear…sometimes I could just kill you.” And even as she said the words, her heart pounded with a need for him to touch her. To feel his breath on her skin. To hear his soft voice in her ear.