A Lot Like Love(33)

Obviously a douchebag.

Jordan poured wine into two glasses sitting on the table. She set the bottle down and took a seat in the chair opposite the douchebag. He said something she apparently found amusing, and then he picked up the bottle and filled her glass even more.

Nick watched as Jordan sipped her wine and made The Face-the seductive, the-hell-with-wine-you-should-see-what-I-look-like-having-sex face. At least that was how he interpreted it.

Watching her with a predatory gaze, the douchebag grinned. Apparently, he had a similar interpretation of The Face.

Something inside Nick snapped.

That was his fake girlfriend in there. Sitting at the table where they had just shared cheese fries the night before. And if she thought she could throw scorching hot sex-looks to any pansy-ass scarf-boy who wandered into her shop, she had another think coming.

He had a look of his own to show the douchebag.

It was time to break out the don't-fuck-with-me face.





JORDAN SET DOWN her glass and closed her eyes as the flavors of the wine enveloped her. "Mmm, I needed that."

"Long day?" Cal asked.

"Very." She glanced around the store. She'd let Andrea leave a few minutes ago, as amends for the extra shift she would have to put in over the weekend. She was relieved to see that things appeared to be in relatively decent shape.

Cal seemed to read her mind. "What if I stuck around and helped you close the store? Then we could check out that new Thai place I was telling you about. It's BYOB, so pick any wine you want." With a grin, he gestured to the wines on the shelves behind them. "It's on the house."

"How generous of you." Jordan swirled her wine. "But I think I'm going to have to pass on Thai."

"Does this have anything to do with Tall, Dark, and Smoldering?"

While grumbling to herself about the ridiculous Scene and Heard column, Jordan thought about the best way to answer Cal's question. "The situation with Tall, Dark, and Smoldering is . . . complicated."

"How complicated?" Cal asked.

You wouldn't believe it if I told you.

The chime on the door rang, and a cold gust of wind blew in. Jordan looked over and was surprised to see Nick standing in the doorway.

He wore his dark overcoat and a formidable scowl. With his eyes trained on her and Cal, he strode over to their table. "Looks like I'm just in time for last call." Wasting no time, he held out his hand to Cal. "Nick."

"Cal Kittredge."

"Nice to meet you, Cal. The store's closed."

Jordan shot him a look for his rudeness. "Nick."

He held up his watch and tapped it. "See? Nine o'clock."

Cal looked from one to the other. "I get the feeling I've stepped into the middle of something here."

Nick smiled mock-pleasantly. "Yes. And here's your chance to step out of it." He grabbed Cal's coat off the back of his chair and handed it over.

Jordan glared at him. "You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack, sweetie. We need to talk."

She turned back to Cal. "I am so sorry about this. You really don't need to leave."



       
         
       
        

Cal held up his hand and stood up. "No worries, Jordan. It's probably better that I go. We can talk later when I come back for the wine."

Nick's scowl deepened at that.

Jordan stood up from the table, brushed past Nick, and followed Cal to the door. She went for a joke, trying to cover her embarrassment. "Not the way DeVine Cellars usually treats its customers. I guess I should've warned you that it's 'Take a Tall, Dark, and Scowly Guy to Work' day."

"Remind me about that day next year. I think I'll stay home," Cal said. After a quick good-bye, he was gone.

Needing a moment to calm down, Jordan locked the door and pulled down the shades on the front windows. No need to let any random passerby see that she was about to have a very real argument with her jackass of a fake boyfriend.

When she'd composed herself, she turned around to face Nick. "I cannot believe you just did that."

He had taken off his coat and set it over a chair, an indication that he planned on going nowhere. He leaned back against the table and folded his arms, his light gray sweater pulling tight across his broad chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something between you and your customer?"

"Yes, you did interrupt something. It's called a conversation . And aside from being a customer, that was Cal Kittredge from the Food and Wine section of the Tribune. People in my business don't usually piss him off by throwing him out on his ear."

"I didn't realize he was so important to you," Nick said sarcastically.

Jordan glared at him. "What has gotten into you tonight?"

Nick pushed away from the bar and closed in on her. "I'll tell you what's gotten into me. How do you think it would look if anyone was watching you tonight? They'd see my supposed girlfriend having drinks with another guy."

Of course, Jordan thought. The investigation. The only thing he cared about.

"Why was he here anyway?" Nick asked. "Are you . . . interested in this guy?"

She stalked away from him. "I don't have to answer that."

He followed her. "Yes, you do. It could be relevant to the undercover op."

Jordan whirled around. "Oh, blow your undercover op out your ass. I didn't ask any questions when your ex-girlfriend waltzed into my store and told me about the numerous women you've screwed. And how you don't give a damn about any of them because you don't do relationships. So the same rule goes for you: no questions. Which means that if I want to have drinks with Cal Kittredge, or any other man, that's my business, not yours."

She put her hands on Nick's chest and shoved. Take that. 

He didn't budge.

Instead, his hand clamped down on her wrist and he pulled her closer. "The hell it isn't," he growled. "I'm making it my business."

His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her. His hand swept to the back of her head as he claimed her lips, rough and possessive. Jordan was pissed off and fired up, and she grabbed his sweater to push him away, but . . .

God, yes.

Instead of pushing, she clutched his sweater and pulled him close. He kissed her until she was breathless, then pulled back and peered down at her with blazing green eyes.

"There. See if the douchebag can kiss you like that," he rasped, his tone both angry and satisfied.

Jordan's cheeks flushed hot, flamed by fury. "I bet there are plenty of douchebags around who can kiss me like that."

"Then I'll have to work harder to stand out from the crowd." Nick grabbed her again.

They slammed against the brick wall next to a shelf of wine bins. Nick's mouth slid down to her neck, and Jordan felt as though her legs melted right there. She had to stifle a moan when his stubbled jaw scraped against her skin.

Rough. Just like she'd imagined it.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she murmured against his ear. "I don't even like you seventy-five percent of the time."

His voice was a silky, hot caress. "But what do you think about the other twenty-five percent?" Not waiting for an answer, his hands slid up the front of her shirt and gripped the collar. He pulled impatiently, and the first button popped open. Then the second.

He pushed back and took in her now exposed bra. His eyes moved to her face and he heatedly held her gaze. He popped open the third button while she watched.

"You could tell me to stop," he said huskily.

Yes, she could.

When she remained silent, he yanked harder and popped open the fourth and last buttons at the same time. She felt the rush of cool air against her heated skin as he captured her mouth with his. While his tongue swirled around hers, he pulled down one of the cups of her bra, groaning deep in his chest when her breast spilled free.

"Nick," she breathed.

He lowered his head and teased one of her nipples with his tongue. She threaded her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the thick, soft layers.

He yanked down the other cup of her bra, so that both of her breasts were pushed up for his mouth. He groaned when she arched forward eagerly against the brick wall. "God, Jordan, you are so fucking hot."

For you, she nearly blurted out. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes when his tongue twirled around the peaked tip of her other breast. He slid one of his hands up her thigh, underneath her skirt, and her body trembled with anticipation. He nipped the tight bud of her nipple at the same moment he slid his hand into her panties and cupped her. She gasped, overloaded by the sensation.

He slid a finger inside her and moved it in and out in a deliciously slow motion. He added another finger, then brushed his thumb against her clit, teasing her until her legs were shaking.

"Do you want this?" His lips swept over hers as he continued the exquisite torture with his fingers. "I want to hear you say it. No more games, no more sarcasm. Just the truth."

She didn't need to think-she already knew the truth. Maybe she was a fool to keep going in spite of everything Lisa had said about Nick. But she'd have to be a bigger fool to let some stranger's jealous words dictate how she led her life. She'd make her own decisions about Nick-and have no one to blame but herself for the consequences.

She pulled back to meet his eyes. "Take me home."