The Christmas Wedding Swap Read online

  The slightest pink flush stained her cheeks, and Luke leaned back in his seat, savoring the moment. The blonde was cute when she was flustered, and if he couldn’t get a smile, he’d be satisfied with her blush. Knocking a woman off-kilter was always a definite advantage.

  Not that she acknowledged his advantage. She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You picked up a couple bags of candy. Get over yourself.”

  Luke glanced to his neighbor on the right, but the man kept shoveling food into his mouth, seemingly unsurprised by the woman’s snark. Luke could never get away with talking to a customer like that at his restaurant. But maybe she was only that way with him. He had wanted to provoke a reaction.

  The blonde looked across the diner. “Hey, Joe, clean your crap off the table next to you. I’ve got paying customers who want to sit down.”

  Okay, then. Not only with Luke. He leaned forward. “You must not have had this restaurant for very long.” The woman was obviously in over her head, poor thing. Probably half crazy from planning her wedding. “If I could give you a piece of advice…”

  Her gaze cut back to him, sharp as a razor. “Listen, buddy, there’s nothing you have to offer that I could possibly want, least of all your advice.” She tapped her pen on her pad. “Now, what are you hungry for?”

  “Allison!” a harried voice called.

  His blonde straightened and looked over his shoulder. “Hi, Sadie. What’s up?”

  A pretty woman stepped next to him, looking as panicked as a stray mutt cornered by the dogcatcher. “When can you take a break? I really need to go over my list for the wedding. I’m so behind, but I know you’re busy. Do you have five minutes?”

  Cute Bag Lady, aka Allison, nodded and pointed to a stool at the end of the counter, two customers away from Luke. “Have a seat and get out your list.”

  Sadie bit her lip, looking at Luke. “It can wait until you finish with your customer.”

  A snort. “He can’t decide. I’ll get back to him later.” She moved away and leaned over the counter in front of Sadie. She turned to the side to look at the notebook Sadie placed on the counter, giving Luke a superb view of her curvy backside. It almost made up for her dismissal.

  He shucked his jacket and hung it on the back of his seat. He’d obviously struck a nerve when he’d reminded her of her wipe-out. Although he didn’t understand why women got so embarrassed about shit like that. As long as you didn’t turf it with a butcher knife in your hand and wind up shish kebabbed, it was all good.

  Another waitress came by with a pot of steaming coffee, and Luke flipped his mug over. And almost wished he hadn’t. He grimaced. The coffee tasted like diesel. But the mug was warm, so he wrapped his hands around it and settled in, trying not to make his perusal of Allison too obvious. With a view like that, he was content to wait for his food. And he had nothing but time on his hands.

  What was he going to do with himself for a week in Pineville? The two-month road trip he’d hastily planned two days ago was going to be bad enough. The thought of all that time out of the kitchen was enough to give him hives. But at least he’d be on the move, seeing something new every day, keeping busy.

  Allison shifted, and Luke could see the wear on the seat of her stone-washed jeans. Not that he’d been eyeballing her ass. “That’s done, that’s done, and that will be done by the end of today,” she said, taking a pen from her friend’s hand and checking off items.

  Sadie leaned back in her seat. “Oh my God. You’re a lifesaver. I really should be paying you. You’ve planned my wedding more than I have.”

  “As maid of honor, that’s my job.” She reached behind the counter and grabbed a coffee pot and a couple of mugs. “Besides, you’re paying me for the cost of the food.”

  “Yes, but not for your catering services,” Sadie said, exasperation in every word. “You deserve to be compensated.”

  “It’s my wedding gift.” She lifted her platinum hair off her neck and flapped her hand, blowing air on her nape. “And speaking of catering, I want you to try the appetizers. Ramon has some baking in the oven, but they should be close enough to being ready for you to get an idea. I’ll be right back.”

  She sashayed into the kitchen. Okay, it was probably a normal walk, not a sashay, but pretty much any way she moved in those jeans was going to look sexy. And she wasn’t engaged. There was no way a woman with her own wedding to plan would agree to cater someone else’s, no matter how good a friend.

  Luke drummed his feet against the floor. That opened up a whole bonanza of possibilities. He had a week to turn bag lady’s snark into something a lot sweeter. Pineville was suddenly looking anything but boring.

  A shriek and a slew of heated Spanish came from the kitchen. An angry man yelled that he quit. A pan crashed into a sink, and a door slammed before the kitchen quieted. Aside from Sadie, who was chewing her lip like it was made out of chocolate, no one else seemed to take notice of the shouting in the kitchen. As kitchen fights went, it had been tame.

  Allison stepped through the swing door, a towel wrapped tightly between her two hands. She shuffled over to her friend. “Uh, Sadie?” She cleared her throat. “We may have hit a little snag. Nothing that I can’t fix.” She was quick to add, “But a temporary problem.”

  Rubbing her temples, Sadie closed her eyes and took deep breaths. After a couple of moments she clasped her hands in front of her and said, “Okay. What’s the problem?”

  “Ramon just quit. He wasn’t going to be doing most of the cooking for your wedding reception—I am—but…”

  “But without your head cook here, you’ll have to take over and won’t have time to cater my wedding.” Sadie nodded her head twice, as if answering a question only she could hear. “I should have listened to Colt. He wanted to fly to the Bahamas, get married on the beach, and have our honeymoon all together. One easy package. But I had to plan and organize this—”

  Allison grabbed Sadie’s hands. “Everything will be fine. I promise. I’ll figure it out.” Her eyes told a different story. She was worried.

  Luke glanced through the order window into the kitchen, pursing his lips. An idea formed. He had at least a week with nothing to do…

  “Why’d he quit? Can you get him back?” A thread of desperation wound through Sadie’s words.

  “No.” Allison’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “He got another job, and I guess decided to wait until the most inconvenient moment to walk out. He and I have had some fights before about his smoking. And it wasn’t cigarettes. He wasn’t a fan of my meddling.”

  Luke stood. “I can help.” Both women turned to look at him, twin expressions of surprise crossing their faces. “I’ve got nothing to do for a couple days, so I can help in the kitchen, at least until you find a new cook.”

  Allison rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got it covered.” She turned her back on him, dismissive.

  His back tensed. Little Miss Bag Lady didn’t think he was good enough for a diner? “I can cook.” He put his hands on his hips. He didn’t know why he felt the need to defend his culinary chops or why he was determined to see that smile from the blonde again, the one she’d given him yesterday, the one that had been tentative, resolute, and hopeful, all at once. But he wanted it. And he did have a week with nothing else to do.

  Actually, he had two months to waste, two months until the statute of limitations ran out on the breach-of-contract lawsuit a vendor was trying to nail him with. When he’d heard a process server was looking for him two days ago, he’d taken off on his motorcycle, determined to avoid the summons that had his name stamped across it. Two months was a long time to be away from his restaurant, but he had great managers and sous chefs who could follow his recipes to the last teaspoon. The drop off in business that might occur with his absence was a necessary gamble. If he got served and lost the lawsuit, his restaurant would be gone.

 
Maybe a road trip across America wasn’t the way to go. As a hideout, Pineville, Michigan, would be close to perfect. Who the hell would think to look for him here? The charm factor of the town had just doubled.

  He stepped to Sadie’s side and reached a hand across the counter to his sexy bag lady. “Hi, I’m Luke.”

  She 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 sorts of problems.

  He could cook, she’d give him that. A number of customers had already complimented the meals he’d prepared. But he questioned everything. The placement of her salad station, the efficiency of her spice closet, even the color-coding system of her chopping boards and knives.

  If he messed around with her waitresses, too, he was done.

  The bell above the door tinkled, and a blast of cold air swept in with two older women. Allison groaned. The one thing she didn’t need right now were the Tree Twins. Miss Eugenie Shaw and Mrs. Deborah Garcia had been denied the privilege of decorating the town’s Christmas tree for a second year in a row, and they hadn’t taken the news well.

  Straightening her cloche ha
t, Miss Eugenie headed straight for Allison, with Debbie a step behind. “Allison, I wanted to talk to you about Shep. It’s getting cold—”

  “No,” Allison said, her voice firm.

  “But, he’s no trouble and—”

  “Can’t do it.” Allison gripped her mug, the tips of her fingers going white. The women had that effect on her.

  “Who’s Shep?” Luke asked, standing. “And who are these two lovely ladies?”

  Sighing, Allison made the introductions. “And Shep is Eugenie’s dog, who cannot come inside. I don’t want a health code violation.”

  Miss Eugenie sniffed. “I wash him every week. He’s a very clean dog, cleaner than a lot of people.”

  Leaning over the table, Luke peered out the window. “That’s a good-looking dog.”

  His t-shirt hung away from his jeans, and Allison caught a glimmer of golden skin bisected by a thin line of hair. She dragged her gaze away from the crotch of his pants and gulped her coffee. Luke Hamilton looked good enough to eat, and it was almost enough to distract her from the drivel coming out of his mouth.

  “Shep is not a good-look—”

  Eugenie glared, and Allison snapped her mouth shut. She took another sip of coffee, and tried again. “While Shep might be distinguished looking, he is also nine-tenths hair. And he sheds—a lot.” She pinned the older woman with a look. “Not in my restaurant.”

  “Fine.” With a huff, Miss Eugenie slid into the opposite side of Allison’s booth. Deborah wedged herself in next to her friend. They stared at Allison expectantly. “Aren’t you going to ask us for our beverage order?” Eugenie asked.

  Allison rolled her neck. Her break was over. “What would you two like to drink?”

  “Hot tea,” Deborah said.

  “Make that two.” Eugenie plucked two menus from behind the napkin dispenser and handed one to her friend.