A Little Combustible Chemistry (Cactus Creek 0.5)(18)

“I have to get out of here while my brain still has some semblance of control,” he muttered, his breathing staggered, heavy.

Looking at her with what he was sure was devastating disappointment, he caught the tiny hint of a grin threatening to appear on her lips. One of his eyebrows rose gamely as he stepped forward again to nip her earlobe. “Vicious woman. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He then teased her lower lip with his teeth, his dimples creasing shamelessly when her breath broke on a shiver. When he felt just the very tip of her tongue flirting with his, he slanted one more searing, double-edged kiss on her lips before eventually exhaling another strained breath and taking a giant step away from her.

“Your kisses make me drunk.” He reached for her hand while making sure to keep the rest of his body a safe distance from hers. “Just like they did the other night when I forgot to get your last name. I’m sorry, Dani. I swear I care enough to get your whole name. Hell, your whole life story even.”

She gave him a smiling shrug. “I didn’t get your last name either.”

“Bradford,” he filled in immediately. “I’m Luke Bradford. I want you to get to know me, just like I want to get to know you.” The last few words came out considerably rougher. “Unless…that isn’t what you’re looking for?” he added unsure for the first time, but knowing regardless that he was already too far gone to bow out completely even if casual no-name hook-ups with customers were her thing.

Something in her eyes gave him pause then, made him wonder at the flash of hurt he saw hidden deep.

But before he could ask her what was wrong, a piece of paper fell out of his pocket and landed between them. Her eyes zoomed in on the distraction and a gasp burst out of her.

She sounded…livid.

Jerking her gaze up to him, her blinking expression was the very definition of confusion when she growled, “Why do you have my letter?!”

Now it was his turn to gape at her. “Your letter?” Understanding dawned on him like a ton of slow bricks. “D. Dobson,” he remembered from the letter. He looked at her with a touch of awe. “You’re the brewmaster and owner here.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Irritation warred with lingering confusion in her scowl.

He met her glare thoughtfully. “You know, I’m not actually.” He smiled as he turned and looked through the portal glass openings in the swing-through doors to the front of the brewpub. “This place is great,” he said with honest appreciation.

Unmoved, she crossed her arms. “You didn’t answer me. Why do you have my letter?”

Hearing her confounded tone drop in temperature with each word, he ventured forward a little more carefully, answering neutrally, “Well, because you wrote it to me, it seems.”

Her hands balled up into two aggravated little fists. “You’re the owner of Desert Confections?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he parroted back to her, still markedly amused at the situation.

His grin died quickly though when he realized those were waves of pure anger rolling off her. He held the letter up with two fingers. “Look, I don’t even know what all this is about. But that’s no excuse. Quinn works for me so if she upset you today, I’ll take full responsibility.”

It was plain as day that Dani was reeling. She put a few more feet between them, closer to the door. But she didn’t look like she was escaping, rather…re-arming.

Luke watched the emotions swirl across her face like a riptide while the rest of her stiffened, armored up cool and composed. Within ten seconds flat, a calm expression had settled on her face like a bulletproof shield.

What a transformation.

Luke could only assume it wasn’t the easiest thing for Dani to be both a tough brewpub owner and adorably cute at the same time. He figured that’s why and how she perfected the I-don’t-take-shit-from-anyone stare.

The same stare she was using on him now.

“Mr. Bradford,” she said politely. “In this neighborly business dispute, I think it best that you go back and learn all the details of this unfortunate matter from your worker first. We can then meet at a later time to discuss how to find an amicable solution, perhaps even one that is mutually beneficial.” The murder in her eyes went down to third degree manslaughter. “Might as well make lemon ale from lemons, right?”

She took out her smartphone and opened up her calendar. “Though I’ll be in the brewery tomorrow, I do have time to squeeze you in for a meeting in the afternoon.” She gave him a borderline friendly smile while briskly putting her phone back in her pocket, as if it were already a given that he would accept her terms.

Whoa. She was good. She managed to be as professional as a ruthless CEO and as likable as the girl next door while consistently establishing the upper hand by ‘inadvertently’ making him feel like a slight nuisance on her time, both present and future. Masterful.

“Ms. Dobson,” he replied without missing a beat, “that is very neighborly of you, and undoubtedly good advice. I’ll go talk to my shop manager straight away. I do appreciate you fitting me in for a meeting tomorrow.” He stuck his hand out cordially. “Until then, please know that all of us at Desert Confections are again, deeply sorry that we got off on the wrong foot with you. Maintaining a strong relationship with our neighbors is a huge priority for us.”