inches, with mocha-brown skin, hourglass curves and legs like a Vegas showgirl.”
Oh, my goodness, he’s talking about me! Grace resisted the urge to cheer. Pride surged through her veins as she sat up taller in her chair. Fire and desire gleamed in his eyes, radiating from his chiseled six-foot body. Grace didn’t speak, kept the leave-me-the-hell-alone expression on her face, but when Jackson flashed his trademark grin her heart smiled. It must have appeared on her face because he looked pleased with himself, as if he’d developed an antidote for an incurable disease. He sat down in the empty chair beside her, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to kiss him.
“I know just the girl,” Bronwyn said, vigorously nodding her head. “Want her number? It’s 206-621—” Pop music played from inside her gold Michael Kors purse and she broke off speaking. Singing along with Taylor Swift, she retrieved her BlackBerry and checked the screen. “It’s my Pooh Bear! Jackson, keep Grace company until I get back. I won’t be long.”
“My pleasure,” he said, pouring on the charm. “Take your time.”
Her breakfast forgotten, Bronwyn surged to her feet and strode off.
“You look amazing. Do you model for Gucci, or are you just a huge fan of their clothes?”
“Surely, there’s someone else in here you can hit on,” she said with a nod toward the cash register. “How about that cute young barista with the curly hair? She’s always staring at you, and I’m sure she’d be flattered by your pickup lines.”
“I don’t spit lines. Just the truth.”
Seeing her cell phone light up, she glanced down at the screen and read her latest text message. Of course. It was from her dad. He wanted to know how things were going, but Grace decided not to respond. Not with the enemy sitting so close.
“When are you going to let me take you out? You know you want to.”
“I grew up here,” she said, “so there’s nowhere you can take me that I haven’t been to a million times before.”
“Try me. When we go out on Saturday night, I’ll knock you off your feet. Literally.”
“Are you always this cocky?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I have reason to be. I’m a pretty cool dude!”
His facial expression tickled her funny bone. Grace didn’t want to laugh, tried to swallow it, but it burst out of her mouth. Damn him! Why did he have to be funny and ridiculously hot?
“I love your laugh. It’s as captivating as your smile.”
“You wouldn’t be flirting with me if you knew who I was.”
“Ya think?” he said, leaning forward in his chair, his gaze full of interest. “Try me.”
“I’m your worst enemy.”
“Is that so, Ms. Nicholas? I prefer to think of us as colleagues, not rivals.”
* * *
Grace choked on her tongue. Oh, hell no!
The fact that Jackson already knew who she was and had been flirting with her anyway made her mad, but more than anything she was disappointed. All this time, she’d thought she was pulling one over on him, but he’d been pulling one over on her! Swallowing hard, Grace reclaimed her voice and asked the question racing through her mind. “You know who I am? But I never told you my last name. How did you figure it out?”
“Google. Twitter. Facebook. There are no secrets in this day and age. A few clicks of my mouse and I knew everything I wanted to know about you...”
Jackson spoke in a tone so seductive her nipples hardened under her fitted teal dress, and her thighs quivered. It took everything in her not to crush her lips to his mouth and steal a kiss. The man was long, lean and ripped, and Grace imagined all of the delicious things they could do together. Dirty dancing. Skinny-dipping. Tantric sex. Stunned by her lascivious thoughts, she tore her gaze away from his face and took a moment to gather herself.
“I like the quote you posted on your Facebook page this morning and couldn’t help wondering if it was about me. ‘Don’t be afraid of change. You may lose something good, but you may gain something infinitely better.’”
Everything in the bakery ceased to exist, faded to the background. Mesmerized, Grace listened to Jackson with growing interest, realized she’d been too quick to judge him. He was wise and insightful, and to her surprise she agreed with everything he said.
“There is no reason for us to be enemies. In fact, we could probably help each other. There is plenty of room for more than one bakery in town, and to prove it I’d be more than happy to give you a behind-the-scenes look at how things work at Lillian’s.”
His friendliness confused her. Why was he so willing to reveal company secrets?
“Come back after closing and I’ll give you a tour of our state-of-the art kitchen.”
Grace considered his offer. She suspected his invitation was the modern-day equivalent of inviting her upstairs to see his etchings, and wondered what else the hunky baker wanted to show her. The thought aroused her body, infected it with lust. What’s the matter with me? Why am I undressing him with my eyes? Why am I fantasizing about a man who has the power to break my heart and ruin my mother’s business?
“I better get back to the kitchen, or my sister will skin my hide.” Standing, tray in hand and grin on display, he winked good-naturedly. “See you at seven o’clock, beautiful. Stay sweet.”
Then, without waiting for her answer, he turned and strode off, as if the matter was decided. And that was when Grace knew she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
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