Читать книгу Some Like It Hotter - Isabel Sharpe - Страница 12

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CHRIS WALKED DOWN the hill from Eva’s house, turned left onto La Playa Avenue and walked about fifty feet to Slow Pour. That was it! No trudging down windy cement sidewalks in the cold, with grit blowing into her eyes, no waiting for the subway in a pee-smelling tunnel, no swaying among sullen, silent strangers, then waiting in another tunnel for another train among more strangers...

In Carmia she could stroll to work in five minutes without a coat, and the smell was of ocean and earth. Not to mention Eva’s store opened at seven instead of six, so she got to sleep nearly two hours later than in New York.

This was so fabulous!

Grinning like a fool, she navigated the assortment of colorful mismatched tables, which Eva had salvaged and painted herself. Outdoor tables in October!

Still smiling, she pushed into the shop. The place was adorable, homey, crowded, slightly shabby and very personal. On the sunny yellow walls were rainforest murals over which Eva had hung pictures of young Eva and Chris at coffee plantations throughout the world, and paintings by local artists that she sold from the shop. On an orange side counter were organic soaps, jewelry and cellophane bags of handmade chocolates, also the work of Carmia residents. Rotating stands held postcards and Slow Pour tote bags, T-shirts and hats. Behind the main service counter Eva had mounted a blue surfboard on which she’d attached a whiteboard with the day’s specialties scrawled across it in colored inks. Where the glass case at Chris’s shop housed croissants, brioche, Japanese sweet buns, traditional English scones and Irish soda bread, Eva’s held banana bread, carrot muffins, house-made granola bars and whole-grain pecan spice rolls.

Only one customer was inside, not surprising on such a beautiful day—a blond guy staring at the paper, which he abruptly put down when she walked in, and stared at her instead.

Rude.

She ignored him, walked to the counter, held out her hand to the petite blonde barista wearing an aqua tank top over the kind of light tan Chris was planning to acquire as soon as possible. This must be Summer. Her hair was wild and bleached by the sun, her eyes brown and friendly.

“Hey, there!” Her face broke into a warm smile, showing frighteningly white teeth. “Chris, am I right?”

“Yes, you are.” She felt pale and drab in her charcoal shorts and beige cotton sweater. “Hi, Summer.”

“I knew it.” Summer looked so happy Chris felt slightly uncomfortable. “It is so great to meet you! Welcome to California!”

“It’s great to be here. I’m just stopping by as a customer today, to say hello.”

“I’m so glad you did!” She gestured to the surfboard menu. “Melinda is on the register this afternoon, but she had a doctor appointment. Can I get you something? I’ll make it to go. You should totally go to the beach this afternoon.”

“I was going to ask to look at the schedule and your sales data for—”

“Nah, go to the beach!” The guy at the table had the nerve to butt in. “You can look at sales stuff tomorrow.”

Chris turned, incredulous at the interruption. “Uh, yeah, thanks.”

“He’s an everyday regular.” Summer spoke under her breath, giving the guy a stunning smile.

“Gotcha,” Chris murmured. She knew what that meant. No pissing off the good customer. She turned with a chilly smile. “I’m Chris. I’ll be managing the—”

“Eva’s sister.”

“Yes.” She had a sinking feeling this jerk was Zac, the guy Eva was planning to marry if nothing else worked out. Her sister’s taste in men...well, it was pretty bad. Chris hadn’t found Mr. Forever yet, either, but at least her relationships were counted in months and years, not days and weeks. And she never dived into one without looking or thinking, the way her sister always did.

“I’m Zac.” He looked her over in a way that set her teeth on edge. “Wow. For a twin, you are nothing like Eva.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? She didn’t want him to think she cared either way. “I hear that a lot.”

He stood and held out his hand, blue eyes crinkling in the corners, blond hair a few shades darker than Summer’s. He was taller than she expected, and hot, in a California surfer-dude kind of way. Totally not her type. “I hear you’re going to be around awhile.”

“Just a month.” She turned back to Summer. “I’ll have a red eye, or whatever you call them here—coffee with a shot of espresso. And those reports? If you want, you can tell me where they are and I can get them.”

“No, no, it’s no problem at all.” Summer stepped over to the espresso machine. “They’re easy to find.”

“You should get more sleep.”

Chris stiffened, unable to believe Zac had just said that to her. “What?”

“Red eyes are caffeine on top of caffeine. If you treat your body well, it will give you all the energy you need on a lot fewer artificial stimulants.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks, that’s good to know.” She groaned silently. This guy made Ames seem like a sweetheart. Too bad, because he looked like a more rugged version of Chris Hemsworth, aka Thor. But if he was a regular here, Chris would either have to learn how to handle him or tune him out—or have him abducted by aliens.

“Forget the sales reports.” Zac put his hands on his hips, covered by worn jeans, which fit pretty fabulously, if you were prone to noticing stuff like that. Over them he wore a Dive and Surf T-shirt with a picture of a shark carrying a surfboard that had a huge bite taken out of it. “You should nap on the beach. You’re probably jet-lagged and your body needs—”

“You know, I’m not really a nap-on-the-beach kind of girl.” She balanced the acid in her tone with a smile as genuine as she could make it and stepped closer to the counter. “But thanks, really. I appreciate your concern.”

“Sure.” He didn’t move. “Do you surf?”

“No!” She laughed. “Not a whole lot of that rolling in on Manhattan.”

“You want to learn?”

“No. No, thanks.” She tried to look politely regretful, but wanted to ask what he was smoking. Though this being mellow California, she might not want to know.

“I bet I can change your mind.”

“Huh.” She had to bite her cheek to keep from shouting at him. “Actually, it would be great if you didn’t.”

“I’ll get those reports.” Summer thumped Chris’s red eye on the counter and disappeared into the back of the store, practically at a run.

“So you got sick of the big city, huh?”

Did he ever shut up? Chris turned back, arms folded. “What makes you think that?”

“Eva told me. I promised I’d help with your transition.”

“Oh. Thanks, that is so nice.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I’m an independent type. I’d rather find my own way around.”

“Message received.” He held up his hands, took a few steps back. “Not a problem.”

Whew. He did have an off button. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks anyway.”

“Here you go.” Summer handed the reports across the counter. “Everything should be there.”

“Thanks, Summer.” She left the store and stopped outside, face turned up to the sun, enjoying its warmth. Eva would have to fill her in on the best way to handle Zac. In the meantime, one of these tables out here was calling her name.

Ten seconds after she’d settled and opened the sales report, a Zac-shaped shadow fell over her table. “Chris. Do me a favor.”

Her stomach sank. The guy was a serious pest. “What’s that?”

“Follow me. If you don’t like what I’m going to show you, you can come back here.”

Her stomach twisted with irritation. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Look here.” He held his cell out in front of her nose. When she managed to focus, she saw a text. From her sister.

Zac is awesome. Go with him. Trust me.

“How did you—” Chris looked up in bewilderment, into his very blue eyes that were watching her with amusement, which made her want to growl again. “I thought you two had decided not to be in touch this month.”

“This was an emergency.”

Chris shut the report, praying for patience, and stood, radiating hostility she couldn’t help. “Okay, show me. But so help me, if this spot isn’t paradise on earth, I’ll—”

“It is.” He ambled across the sidewalk, not looking to see if she’d follow.

She did, but not willingly. In fact, during the walk she was wondering if there was anything she could put in his coffee that would keep him in bed for oh, say, exactly a month.

Down La Playa they moseyed toward the Pacific. Could he not move any faster? Chris had to shorten her steps so she didn’t pass him, and her legs were shorter than his. What was he waiting for? Did he think she couldn’t keep up? That she was some dainty flower? Forget that, she did triathlons every summer.

When she was just about ready to put a hand to his broad back and shove to make him go faster, they reached the end of the line of buildings and turned toward the beach.

Okay, okay, it was beautiful. Really beautiful. A peaceful expanse of sand flattened smooth by waves. On either side, rocky cliffs topped with sparse green growth and low trees. Zac led her on a short stroll across the sand, then up a steep path to the top of the cliff on the north side.

She followed him to a spot between two scrubby bushes, where a table and bench had been set up so the occupants would be sheltered while still being able to take in the Pacific, the cliffs and the mountains behind.

“Wow.” Chris put her hands on her hips, shaking her head in defeat. “You were right. It’s perfect.”

Zac shrugged his broad shoulders. “Seemed to me you can’t improve on much when you’re reading sales reports, but this might do it.”

“It’s beautiful. Thanks for showing me. I’ll appreciate the quiet and privacy.” She brightened her voice and put the report on the table with her coffee, praying he’d get the hint and leave her alone.

“Just you and the beautiful Central Coast.” He lifted his hand for a high five. “Be at peace.”

Chris slapped his palm. Whatever. He was going. “Thanks.”

“See ya around.”

She managed a noncommittal “Mmm.” The second he was out of earshot, she furiously dialed her sister.

“Eva! What did you let me in for?”

“What do you mean?”

“This Zac person. He’s horrible.”

“Zac? Horrible?”

Chris rolled her eyes. She adored her sister, but sometimes she was much too...tolerant. Especially of guys. “He practically jumped down my throat. Told me I shouldn’t drink red eyes, that I shouldn’t read sales reports, shouldn’t sit at the Slow Pour...”

“Oh, but isn’t it gorgeous there where he took you? The cliff seat above Aura Beach, right? I told him he should.”

Chris wrinkled her nose, gazing around her at the wide, endless ocean. “Well...yes, it’s gorgeous.”

“He wanted you to be happy.”

“That’s not the point. I was perfectly happy sitting outside at Slow Pour.”

“Aren’t you happier now?”

“No, I’m completely exasperated with him. And you!”

Eva giggled, making Chris smile. “He’s a good guy, I promise.”

“So what’s he going to do, come in every day and tell me how to live my life?”

“Probably,” Eva said cheerfully.

“Great.” Chris rolled her eyes. “Out of Ames’s frying pan and into Zac’s fire.”

“Ooh, into Zac’s fire. Sounds like a sexy title. And speaking of sexy, you forgot to mention that Ames is a total hottie.”

“Yeah...” Chris lifted her chin, letting the sun have at her face again. “He is kind of hot.”

“Mmm.” Eva sighed.

“Do not get any ideas. The guy’s a narcissist. Not your type at all.” It immediately occurred to her that Ames was Eva’s type, since she invariably went for guys who were wrong for her. But that didn’t mean she had to do it again.

“No? We’ll see. Now sit down and enjoy the ocean for an hour or two.”

“An hour or two? Staring at waves?” She snorted. “Not me. But it is a beautiful place to work.”

“Chris, you just arrived! Enjoy the place!”

“I am enjoying it. It’s stunning up here. Now leave me alone while I study your sales reports.”

“You are hopeless.”

“I know.” She ended the call reminding her sister of a couple of restaurant suggestions in her neighborhood on Eighty-Seventh Street, and settled back with her report.

Hmm. Sales okay, fairly steady, but not really taking off. Looked a lot like her own track record in New York, except most of Eva’s traffic occurred midmorning and midafternoon, NYEspresso’s dead times. In a place like—

“Whoa, sorry, man. Didn’t realize someone was here.”

Chris looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone com—

Oh, my God.

Dark windblown hair. Blue eyes. Shorts and T-shirt revealing a gorgeous body. Warm, white-toothed smile. The hottest guy she’d ever seen.

Her heart launched into triple time. She was unable to speak or return his smile, just sat there staring in a flood of hormones.

When was the last time a guy had affected her like this? Not John, not Rob, not even Steve, her most serious boyfriend. This crazy, overwhelming reaction was a first. What did it mean?

Something really good.

She took a deep breath and indicated the other half of the table. “Have a seat. There’s plenty of room.”