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Movement came from the porch and provided the perfect distraction from the half-empty production schedule that mocked me for the past thirty minutes. I crept to the front door, expecting to see mischievous teenagers ready to ring my bell and run, or a flaming bag of crap on my doormat. What I wasn’t expecting was a mass of auburn waves bent over my step while familiar hands arranged a pile of plastic food containers.
Augusta.
She looked up and gasped, clearly she hadn’t expected to see me. More like she wanted to avoid it. “You could have rung the bell, Augusta.”
With a sigh, she put her hands to her thighs and stood. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but these needed to be returned to you. Thank you for the food, it was a nice gesture.”
Nice. I snorted at that word, at her chilly reception. “Nice? My goal was to remind you of my good qualities.” I wondered if she still believed I had any.
“Well you are an excellent chef,” she said with a half-watt smile. “And a pretty good teacher.” Her words were sincere but they contained no warmth.
“Glad you agree.” I took a step back and motioned for her to come inside, a move that risked rejection, but I needed alone time with her.
Augusta shook her head and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture. “No thanks. I’ve got plans.”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Part of those plans included returning my containers?”
She nodded, her expression wary.
“They haven’t actually been returned yet.” I smiled at her low growl.
“Whatever.” She squatted down and scooped up the half dozen containers and marched inside, reluctance obvious with every step. I followed the sway of her hips until they came to a stop in my kitchen. She set them down and whirled around, annoyance threading her brows into a deep vee. “Happy?”
Hell no, I wasn’t happy. Not with the way she was determined to treat me like a stranger, as if I didn’t know the way she felt wrapped around my cock, the way her whole body flushed right before she reached orgasm. As if I didn’t know the way she tasted. I needed to think. Fast.
“No, I’m not.”
“Antonio.” She said my name on a long sigh and shook her head. “Your containers have been returned and I’m grateful for the food. Let’s just leave it at that, all right?”
Like I could do that even if I wanted to. “No, Augusta, it’s not all right. I need a recipe tester and you’re here, and you think I’m a fantastic chef.”
“Teddy is your recipe tester. Everyone knows that.”
I nodded. “Except she’s still snuggled in bed with Cal, which I don’t want to think about, and most importantly, she’s not here. She should have been here an hour ago, I don’t think she’s gonna show today. So basically my production schedule is screwed if you don’t help me out.”
“Oh.”
It was a dick move to play on her guilt, but until she softened towards me I would take what I could get. “Yeah. So?”
She shook her head and red waves cascaded around her shoulders, making my fingers itch to touch her. “Sorry to hear that. Good luck.” She skirted around me and left the kitchen, making a beeline for the front door.
“You could do it.” Just as I expected, my words stopped the fast movement of her feet.
“I can’t. Plans.”
Stubborn woman. “With?”
The tension was back in her shoulders. “None of your business.”
I laughed at the fire in her voice. “Afraid I’m going to scare him away?”
“Hardly,” she snorted. “I don’t think you could pull off jealousy if you tried. And Megan doesn’t scare easily.”
It wasn’t a date, and that was something I could work with. I reached for my phone with a smile, knowing this move put my jewels and my life, at risk. “Megan, hey. It’s Antonio.” Augusta turned around with a shocked scowl.
“Antonio. What are you up to?” Not exactly the bubbly greeting I usually got, but I could handle it.
“Great to hear your voice too. Listen, do you mind if Augusta takes a rain-check for meeting up with you today? She really wants to stay and test some new recipes for me but she doesn’t want to leave you hanging.”
“That is a bold-faced lie,” Augusta shouted from the door, her sneaker-clad feet brought her back to the kitchen. She growled again when I winked at her.
Megan sighed on the phone. “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but if you can get her to stay, then no, I don’t mind.”
“Excellent! Thanks, Megan. I’ll let Augusta know that you don’t mind. At all.”
She laughed. “Tell her to call me later for bail money, or a shovel and tarp.”
I stumbled over my words, slightly. “Um, yeah, will do.”
“Good luck.”
If those were Megan’s expectations for the afternoon, I might need more than luck. “She said call her later and tell her all about it.”
