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Jackson turned to ask Carly if she wanted a to-go plate on their way to the house, but before he could get more than a word past his lips, he was interrupted by a very familiar, very female voice.
10
“Chef di Matisse?”
It took Carly a full five seconds to recognize the voice behind her as belonging to Bellamy Blake. Instinctively, Carly swept a hand over her braid, only to discover it was way more disheveled mess than tidy plait.
“Hi, Bellamy.” Carly patted a few chunks of hair into place at the nape of her neck, and the movement revealed a crepe myrtle bloom tangled by her ear. She fumbled to dislodge it, flinging the tiny purple flower behind her back as she pasted a smile on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Carly caught Jackson’s unnervingly sexy smile at the gesture, his crinkly sky-blue eyes so warm they were almost liquid.
Okay, maybe the friends-with-benefits thing wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Clearly, she and Jackson had good chemistry. The kiss they’d shared against the shed was living proof of that. How complicated could a little mutually beneficial sex amongst friends be, anyway?
Jackson reached out and plucked another paper-thin blossom from her hair, his fingers brushing against her skin as he dropped it into her palm.
Screw complicated. She was on fire for this guy.
“Oh, my God, what are you doing here?” Even in the dusk of the post-sunset sky, Bellamy’s shock was plain.
A laugh snuck up on Carly, and she couldn’t keep it under wraps. “I know this might surprise you, but I do actually get out of the restaurant from time to time.”
Although Bellamy was pretty tough in the kitchen and didn’t really seem like the blushing type, her cheeks flushed at Carly’s teasing.
“Oh, no, no, I just meant…” Bellamy paused. “I didn’t know you knew Jackson, that’s all,” she finished, giving Jackson a look that all but yelledahem!
“Well, we only met, ah, recently.” Carly shot a quick glance at Jackson and did a little cheek-flushing of her own, praying that the cover of dusk kept anyone from noticing. She wasn’t exactly the blushing type, either, but the memory of exactly how they’d met made Carly glad he hadn’t mentioned it.
“Last week,” Jackson confirmed, easing into a blazingly enticing half-grin.
Carly managed to steady her expression. She could handle grace under pressure in the most weeded of kitchens, for God’s sake. Surely she could handle one teensy smile from the guy without coming undone right there in front of God and everybody. “I ran into Jackson at the grocery store a little while ago, and he invited me to come out for something to eat. We met last week when he rebuilt my deck.”
A dark-haired guy with what looked like permanent five o’clock shadow stood next to Bellamy, and Carly heard a flash of Jackson’s voice from last week in her kitchen, talking about his buddy, Bellamy’s boyfriend.
“Youwere the deck rebuild last week?” Five O’clock Shadow’s brow popped in surprise.
Carly’s smile faded into confusion, and after a breath, she realized Jackson’s grin had slipped, too.
“Yeah,” she replied, drawing the word out slowly, like a question. “A tree fell on it in that nasty storm.”
Jackson stepped in before Carly could ask why his buddy seemed so surprised. “Carly, this is Shane Griffin. I told him about the job I was doing out at your place last week. You know, how the tree came really close to hitting the house and how I had to jackhammer the posts out. I must’ve forgotten to mention the connection, with you being Bellamy’s boss and all.”
A tiny hint of something odd flickered in Jackson’s glance as his eyes passed over Shane’s, but it was gone so fast, Carly couldn’t even be sure she’d seen it, much less identify what it had been.
“Yeah, it must’ve slipped your mind,” Shane said, a faint glimmer lingering in his expression before he broke into a natural smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Carly.” His warm handshake made her relax and she broke into a smile.
“You, too.” Despite her earlier protests to the contrary, the back of Carly’s arm squalled in protest at being used for a meet-and-greet. It was so ironic that the little cuts always managed to hurt the worst.
As if Jackson could read her mind, he gestured to the limb in question. “I was just taking Carly back up to the house. She, uh, scratched her arm pretty badly.” His eyes skimmed over her with that ultra-serious look again, and even though she was tempted to make a face, she held back. It wasn’t like she’d severed the damned thing, but whatever.
“Ouch.” Bellamy eyed the scratch. “How’d you manage that?”
Goooooood question. “Oh! I, um…” The more Carly scrambled, the more vivid the recollection of actual events became in her mind, until the kiss was all but screaming through her again.
“Pricker bush,” Jackson intervened, smooth as freshly rolled pie crust.
Carly blinked, lost in the wake of his quick thinking, and the look that flashed between them hung on for just a fraction too long. “Yup. A big one.”
“You know, you should get Autumn to check that out. It looks kind of nasty,” Bellamy ventured, and Jackson’s expression brightened.
This couldn’t be good.
