Playing Dirty. Susan Andersen
“Just try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you some bear claws when I go out this afternoon.”
“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled and took a bite. He swore as several blackberries tumbled from the pastry back onto his plate, but chewed and swallowed the portion that had made it into his mouth, licked a crystal of sugar from his lip, then met her gaze. And smiled sheepishly.
“Damn.” He took another bite and said around it, “That’s better than an orgasm.”
Ava laughed. “Or almost, anyway.”
It was all Cade could do to bite back a growl. But enough with the sex talk, already!
“Hey, I smell coffee!” Beks burst into the room, then went on point like a German shorthair spotting a pheasant. “Food! Wow, look at that!” She flashed a smile at Ava. “You’ve got some seriously mad skills, girl.”
“Try the galette,” Kyle said around another mouthful. “It’s even better than bear claws.”
“Shut the front door!” Beks gawked at him. “I thought you didn’t think anything was better than bear claws. This I gotta taste for myself. And ooh, God, lookit this fruit! Seriously mad skills, I’m telling ya.”
The next thing Cade knew, all of his team who’d shown up this morning were swarming the food table, making a huge dent in Ava’s arrangement. And she just laughed while they did, refilling coffee cups and urging them to try this, that or the other treat. Apparently she got off big-time on seeing to it that everyone was fed.
He waded in to grab a few things for himself before the locusts formerly known as his crew reduced it to crumbs, a few apple cores and orange peels.
But when he told them a few minutes later that it was time to get to work, the swarm reverted to the professionals he knew and cleared out to get back to their various tasks.
AFTER EVERYONE LEFT, Ava happily puttered around the kitchen, clearing up the dishes and coffee cups, replenishing the fruit tray and bringing out a vegetable platter to place beside it, along with a bowl of dip she would refrain from telling Kyle had a yogurt base.
She made a trip out to Mrs. Hoffert’s Audi and retrieved the plastic crate that cradled her big Crock-Pot, which she had transferred from her own car earlier. She had slow cooked a tortellini soup overnight, and she brought it into the kitchen, plugged it in and turned it on to warm. She put out spoons and a stack of bowls next to the pot. Then, pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sat down and went over this morning’s offerings, checking each item and making adjustments to the amounts she’d need to buy for tomorrow.
She also made some notes on ideas she had for switching things up so the crew didn’t get bored the next few weeks.
This was her element. She loved seeing a need and filling it. She liked feeding people, liked doing what it took to make their day-to-day lives easier. It was what she was good at.
It was purely a bonus that performing those functions made it easier for her to ignore Cade.
The back door banged open, making her jump. Cold, damp air gusted into the room, and a lean man in a black watch cap and parka blew in along with it. He probably only topped off around five-eight or so, and taken feature by feature should have been average-looking. But his spectacular aqua-blue eyes and the overall way all those features were put together added up to an attractive package.
At a glance, Ava would say he knew it, too, for he grinned, said, “Hey ya, beautiful,” and nodded at the alarm box keypad. “What’s the code?”
“Considering I don’t have a clue who you are, I’m not inclined to tell you that,” Ava responded calmly, keeping to herself that the alarm wasn’t armed at the moment, since one of the discussions Cade’s crew had had while eating her food was that between all the comings, goings and equipment deliveries throughout the day, it would be a major pain to have to constantly set and reset the alarm.
Obviously figuring for himself that it was turned off, the man crossed the room to her. “Anthony Phillips,” he said by way of introduction. “But everyone calls me Tony. I was hired as security for Scorched Earth Productions.”
Ava raised a brow at him. “I was under the impression that was John.”
“Whoa. Suspicious much? He’s night security. I’m the day watchman.”
She rose and went to the archway to stick her head out into the hall. Power cords and cables snaked the normally pristine hardwood floor, and for a second she merely blinked at them. Then she collected herself. “Beks!”
“Yeah?”
“Your day security guy is here.”
“Thanks, Ava. I’ll be down in a sec to get him.”
She turned back to catch Call-me-Tony eyeing her butt. “Have a seat. Or coffee’s over there if you’d like a cup.”
“Thanks, doll, a cup of Joe would be nice.”
“You and I will get along a great deal better if you don’t call me doll.”
“Right. Got it, doll—uh, Miss.”
“I’m Ava.”
His big flashy smile returning, he stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”
Beks came in and crossed to Tony. “You Anthony Phillips?”
“That I am,” he agreed. “But you can call me Tony.”
Ava conceded his flirtatious charm might not be premeditated. It was possible he was just one of those guys who couldn’t help themselves.
In any event, Beks wasn’t charmed. “I’m the PA and the coordinator,” she said, all business, and introduced herself. “Follow me.” She turned on her chunky heel, clearly expecting him to do as she directed and asking as they exited the room, “You got your papers and ID?”
Ava watched them disappear, thinking how interesting it was to see Beks at work. The crew was going to be testing audio and lighting today, so she likely had a lot on her plate. It would be fun to be a fly on the younger woman’s wall and observe more of her interaction with Mr. Charm in the midst of all that.
“Right,” she murmured with a little laugh. “Like you’ve got so much time to be watching someone else work.”
And shrugging, she went back to her own.
CHAPTER FOUR
This is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.
THE MINUTE AVA got home that evening, she kicked off her heels, washed off her makeup and changed into her navy, white and orange Moroccan-tile-patterned sleep pants, topping them with a cotton knit camisole and cardigan. She made herself a quick bite to eat and was seated in front of the fireplace with a glass of chardonnay a short while later, trying to decide if she wanted to select a recorded program from her DVR to watch or simply continue staring at the flames, when her doorbell rang.
She blew out a breath. “Crap.” She was so not in the mood for company.
But since she was currently in a dating slump, it was likely Poppy or Jane, and adjusting her attitude, she set aside her wineglass and rose to answer the door.
The last person she expected to see on the other side was Cade, and for a second she could only gape at him.
“Whoa,” he said, looking just as startled. Except that didn’t make sense. Not when, unlike her, he had known perfectly well he was coming here.
Damn him, anyhow. Here she was all naked-faced, not a spec of makeup to give her pale complexion a little color or hide her freckles, while he, even under the hallway’s fluorescent fixture, looked like a million bucks, his eyes blazing brilliant blue in that lightly tanned, angular face. The harsh light also picked out the raindrops spangling his hair and dampening the shoulders of his worn leather