The Christmas Wedding Swap. Allyson Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ sighed and took his hand. “Allison.” They stood there for a beat, hands and eyes locked. “And thanks for the offer, but I need someone with at least line-cook experience. Just because you can fry bacon for breakfast doesn’t mean you can cook in a diner.”

      He tightened his smile and his hand. “I can cook more than bacon. You’re short a cook today. Let me fill in, and I’ll show you what I can do.” He’d cook the best damned food this greasy spoon had ever seen.

      Tugging her hand from his, she rubbed her palm along the hip of her jeans. “I don’t—”

      “That sounds like a great offer. Don’t you think, Allison?” Sadie turned wide, pleading eyes on her friend. “At least until you can find someone else.” Spinning her stool around, she gave him a grateful smile. “My wedding is on Christmas Eve, and it’s really too late for me to hire another caterer, so you are doing us a huge favor. Isn’t he, Allison?” Silent communication passed between the two women.

      Allison took a deep breath, the white cotton of her shirt stretching across her generous breasts. “Yeah, yeah.” Shrugging, she lifted one side of her mouth, giving him half a smile. “Thanks for your offer. As long as you can follow my recipes and my orders, you’ve got yourself a job.”

      The triumph of getting Allison to agree faded. What had he done? It had been a long time since he’d taken orders in a kitchen, and the thought made his eye twitch.

      Allison leaned over the counter, and stared at his feet. Her shoulders sagged, and she muttered, “Crap,” under her breath.

      Luke glanced down at his boots and back at Allison, for the first time wondering if maybe her quirkiness bordered more on crazy. And what did that make him? He had convinced the woman to hire him for a job he was supremely overqualified for and had at least the next week to look forward to taking orders from a ballbuster with a foot fixation. Not his smartest move. Being a competitive guy, he looked forward to making her eat her words about his abilities right after she ate his cooking. But that satisfaction was hardly worth working in a greasy spoon. He could only guess that the lack of sleep from months of worrying about his restaurant had clouded his judgment. Rocking back on his heels, he blew out a deep breath.

      There was nothing for it. He’d made the offer. And truly had nothing better to do.

      Luke Hamilton, voted one of the top ten chefs in America for two years’ running, was now a fry cook at a nothing diner sitting smack-dab in the middle of nowhere.

      Chapter Three

      Allison sat in a corner booth in The Pantry, feet up on the opposite bench. The lunch rush had ended, and she needed a break. Sipping a cup of coffee, she scrolled through her latest possible matches. Nothing interesting. Switching to another site, she scanned those prospects.

      In a two-hour radius, there were about three thousand men of appropriate age looking for love. More, if you counted the prison population. Why was it she couldn’t find even one possibility who gave her a spark of excitement?

      She sniffed. Allison didn’t think she was particularly picky when it came to men. She swiped right on everyone whose profile didn’t scream hookup. Slumping in her seat, she checked her text messages. There were six guys she’d given her number to, and the messages had been flying back and forth. But none of the men ever pulled the trigger and asked her out.

      There was a new message from Joaquin, and Allison tried to muster the enthusiasm to respond.

      Her coffee mug was taken from her hand. “Hey!” She glared at Luke. “Has no one ever taught you not to take caffeine away from a woman?”

      Luke placed a new cup down, steam drifting off the brown brew, and slid it toward her. “Try this.”

      Allison sniffed but couldn’t detect anything besides coffee. She inhaled deeply. Good coffee. A complex aroma with a slight floral note teased her nose and made her mouth water.

      “The poisons I use are odorless.” Luke shook his head. “Just try it.”

      She took a sip. Only years of poker playing allowed her to stop her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. “It’s fine.”

      “Fine?” Placing his palms on the table, Luke leaned down. “The coffee they serve at Starbucks is fine. The coffee you serve is crap. This”—he picked up the cup and took a swallow—“this is an experience.”

      “It has its place.” Allison stole back the mug. Her new fry cook didn’t get to offer her dark brown heaven and then take it back. “What is it?”

      “A Kona blend I found at the Bean Counter.” Dragging a chair over by the toe of his boot, Luke swung it around and sat with his chest pressed into the back. “Did you know that store not only sells bulk coffee beans but cocoa beans, too?”

      “Yes. I live here. I know what our stores sell.”

      “Huh.” He scratched his jaw. “I thought maybe you didn’t, seeing as how the only coffee you serve comes from a red tub.”

      Grinding her teeth, Allison tried to keep her cool, at least in front of the paying customers. This was the third time in as many days that Luke had questioned the quality of her inventory. And it wasn’t as though she served crap. She bought the best ingredients that she could afford, and no one had ever complained about her food.

      “This is a diner,” she explained. “I can’t waste money buying beans that cost fifteen dollars a pound. My profit margin would disappear.” She took another sip.

      “Those were more like fifty dollars a pound.”

      Allison spat out the coffee. Covering her mouth with her sleeve, she coughed until her eyes watered. “What! That’s insane.”

      “No, that’s quality coffee.” He rubbed her back. “You could always charge more for a cup.”

      “My customers won’t pay that.” She mopped up the spilled coffee with regret. That one mouthful had probably cost two dollars. Luke’s hand on her back made her feel better, though. Maybe a little too good. She waved him off.

      Jenny, one of The Pantry’s waitresses, stopped by with a damp towel. “Here, let me clean that up.”

      Allison lifted the two mugs, and Jenny swiped the table clean.

      “Thanks, Jenny.”

      “No problem.” Jenny responded to Allison but kept her gaze on Luke. She shifted closer, and her boobs came dangerously close to Luke’s face.

      Allison narrowed her eyes. Was her waitress arching her back?

      “Yes, thank you, Jenny,” Luke said, a grin stretching from ear to ear.

      “I think we’re good here.” Allison pointed across the restaurant. “And Herb is waving for you.”

      “Of course. If you need anything else…” With a wink to Luke, the waitress strutted off, her snug black slacks leaving nothing to the imagination.

      Allison frowned. She had a simple dress code for the wait staff: black slacks, white shirt, and an apron. Maybe she needed to add appropriate sizing to the employee handbook. She glared at her new hire. He was causing all СКАЧАТЬ