Page 42 of To Catch A Player


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Yeah, this day was already perfect.

And greedy bastard that I was, I couldn’t wait for it to be over.Reese“I guess this means that the bacon barbecue jam is here to stay?” Maven rushed into the kitchen with an exhausted smile on her face, an empty tray in one hand and the other resting on her hip.

I nodded, my own smile so wide it threatened to crack my mouth at the corners. “Seems like that’s what the consensus is.” Ginger had decided to do a review of her latest culinary obsession, which my sales receipts could vouch for, and it had turned my restaurant into a madhouse. A wonderfully loud and chaotic madhouse. “Are we running low?”

“Yeah. Actually, I came to tell you to scrap the plastic containers because the keepsake jars are selling better and they’re easier. Right?”

I stopped as she said it and looked at her. “Absolutely right. Thanks. Now, get back out there.” Her serious expression disappeared and was replaced by another smile.

“Stay chilly, boss lady.”

“I’ll do my best.” The truth was, the kitchen was only half the reason for my overheated skin and permanent blush. The other half was an intoxicating detective with hazel eyes and an insatiable appetite for me and my food. I loved that trait in a man, and that was the exact problem. I loved it, but not in just any man. In one particular man. One who shied away from commitment and was the king of mixed signals.

It was a recipe for heartache—and I should know, I’d become an expert in it over the years. Which was exactly why I should have been running in the opposite direction when I realized my feelings for Jackson went beyond my bedroom. And my libido.

“Dammit.”

“Crap, did you hear them?”

I turned with a startled gasp at the sound of Maven’s voice. “Do you take ninja classes on the weekends?”

Her dark brows dipped low before a smile spread across her face. “Is there some place I can take ninja classes? Because I would totally be into that.”

“How would I know when I never leave this place? Sorry,” I replied. Maven didn’t deserve my sarcasm or my snark. “Did I hear who?”

As soon as she leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, I knew. “The matchmakers. They want to talk to you. About the jam,” she added quickly. Too quickly.

“Can you tell them I’m not here?”

“Nope. Eddy saw you already and there’s no way I’m putting myself in their path, not even for you.” I couldn’t say I blamed her. The women had been sneaky yet relentless this past year. It was kind of scary.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” The only thing the matchmakers understood was a firm hand, so I sucked in several deep breaths until my hands no longer shook. Then, I squared my shoulders and stood as tall as I could before pushing out into the restaurant. “Ladies, you wanted to see me?”

“We had to,” Helen insisted. “That jam is literally to die for and we want a few extra jars reserved.”

“Just for us,” Eddy added. “We’ll pay, of course. But you’re a little too busy for our tastes this week.” A fact that made me a little sad but made my books very, very happy.

“How many jars?” I pulled out an order pad, one of a dozen I kept in all the extra aprons and coats hanging in the kitchen.

“Ten to start,” Betty Kemp suggested with a soft smile.

“So, what’s gong on with you and that handsome detective?” That question came from Elizabeth.

“We’re friends,” I told them and kept my gaze on the order pad.

“I’ll take a dozen of those biscuits, while you’re at it. Make it a standing order for Book Club,” Eddy said with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Friends who have been spending an awful lot of time together,” Helen pointed out, eyebrows raised as if to dare me to deny it.

“He’s been my assistant for the cook-off as part of the whole Hometown Heroes thing. Why am I telling you ladies this, when you probably set it all up?” They all averted their gazes, looking anywhere but at me. “That menu is suddenly awfully interesting, isn’t it?”

Eddy laughed. “I liked you better when you were scared of your own shadow. You’re a lot more fun now, but harder to cajole.”

“Thanks,” I told her, genuine surprise in my voice.

“If you and Jackson are just friends, when do you spend time with your lovers?” Elizabeth Vargas, I swear, used the word lovers just to aggravate me.

“I’m too busy for a lover,” I told her, but the words were covered by loud, obnoxious laughter. “It’s the truth.”

“I knew they were sleepin’ together,” Eddy said, proud of her skills.

“No one said that!” I stared at each of them, my eyes wide with warning and maybe a bit of a threat. “Stop. Nothing is going on between us. Nothing at all. Okay?”

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