Roxanne Claire - Barefoot by the Sea

So who was Lacey interviewing?

As she approached the employee entrance, Tessa took one more glance at the sand, slowing when she caught a glimpse of brown about ten feet away. Was that a jun—

“Tessa!” The back door popped open and Lacey’s coppery hair appeared in the sunlight, along with her not-so-thrilled expression. “I thought you’d never get here. Why don’t you answer your cell?”

Because it was probably under a pile of seed invoices in the greenhouse.

“Gosh, I’m sorry.” Tessa squinted at the shell, then Lacey. “I didn’t know we were interviewing anyone.”

Lacey didn’t say anything in response. Whoa, was she mad? Maybe. She leaned on the door, arms crossed over a pretty white sweater that hung down to her hips and showed off the figure she’d been working so hard to get back to pre-baby weight. Her expression was tight, and strange.

“Sorry,” Tessa said again, the dry sand kicking up under her work boots. As she reached Lacey, she took one more look, peering at the tiny brown shell a few inches from an empty chaise. She had to check. “One second, Lace.”

Lacey snagged her arm. “Now.”

“Lacey, that’s a…” How could she explain this silliness? A shell I think will mean I’m going to have a baby. “Can I just…”

Lacey shook her head and tugged her inside. “Listen to me.”

“I know I’m late, but…” She stole one more look over her shoulder, memorizing the shell’s location. Not that there was a chance in hell a junonia wouldn’t be snatched up by the first person who saw it. “I need to get—”

“No.”

At the harsh syllable, Tessa turned from the sunny beach to look at her friend, a woman who rarely spoke a word that wasn’t encouraging, warm, and selfless. “What’s the matter, Lace?”

Lacey blinked her brownish-gold eyes, her expression balanced precariously between excitement and dread. “Nothing. Everything. Maybe something.”

Tessa laughed softly. “Does not compute, boss.”

Lacey let out a slow, exasperated sigh, then gave Tessa a once-over. “You really should answer your cell phone.”

“I’m sorry. Am I too filthy to interview a chef?”

“This chef.”

Tessa frowned. “Why?”

“Listen, I have good news and I have…other news.”

“Good news first,” Tessa said instantly.

“I found a chef, I mean, I found the chef.”

“Really?” What a relief that would be. “You’re sure?”

“So sure. He’s brilliant, talented, fast, creative, cheap, and can start tomorrow.”

“That’s awesome.” She reached out to squeeze Lacey’s arm. “What’s the other news?”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Walker?”

Tessa turned at the low voice that came from the hall, the sound oddly…familiar. She knew that voice.

“I’ve got the prosciutto eggs Benedict…” His words faded as their eyes met and locked, his as crazy ice blue as she remembered, hers no doubt widening in speechless shock.

“That would be the other news,” Lacey whispered.

Ian suspected he might run into the sperm-hunting gardener. When the talkative old lady in the convenience store mentioned that the local resort was probably going out of business if they didn’t find a chef, he remembered that the dishy woman he’d met in the bar had said she worked at a resort.

And that had almost kept him from making the drive up the beach road to check it out, but he wanted the job too much to let one little encounter stop him. Except that, based on the way she was staring at him like he was the ax murderer she’d feared the other night, perhaps staying put might have been smart. No doubt she was still pissed he’d blown her off.

“Prosciutto eggs Benedict?” she asked, finally tearing her gaze from him to Lacey Walker, who’d been interviewing him while he cooked in the kitchen for the last hour. “That’s not on our menu.”

“It could be. John, this is Tessa Galloway, but…I believe you two have already met.” Lacey could barely hide the amusement in her voice, but Tessa didn’t look too amused.

“Hello again, Tessa.”

“Hi.” She gave him a not-too-friendly smile, brushing some hair off her face that revealed a smudge of dirt on her cheekbone. She crossed her arms as if she didn’t want to be forced to shake his hand. Or maybe she was covering up more dirt on her shirt.

Woman needed a shower. And just the thought of that made him need one, too. Ice-cold.

“Um, Tess.” Lacey gave a quick brush to her own cheek to silently tell her friend about the dirt.

“Oh, oh.” Tessa wiped her face, then glanced down self-consciously, giving him a chance to check out her long, tanned legs and clunky work boots. Damn if they weren’t cute as hell on her. “I didn’t know we were interviewing.”

He shrugged. “No big deal.”

An unreadable response crossed her face as she took a step closer, the light of the kitchen hall catching the golden threads woven into her chestnut-colored hair and highlighting the rise of color under her sun-warmed complexion.

“No, it’s not,” she agreed quickly. “Absolutely no big deal.”

Except, by the look on her face, it was a huge fucking deal and no doubt his disappearing act in the bar would cost him the job. Damn it.

“Tessa runs our on-site farmette,” Lacey said quickly, trying to fill the gaping silence between them. “So she’s always involved with what goes on in the kitchen.”

Which meant she could put a freeze on his hire right this minute. Unless he won her over, which might take some doing, but he needed this job.

Lacey nudged her closer, and he silently thanked this enabler who was on his side.

“So you can consider me a supplier,” Tessa said, her color returning to normal and her voice finally finding some volume. “For the kitchen. And food. And…stuff.”

More nervous than normal, then, which he’d use to his advantage. As she came closer, he dipped his head slightly. “I love working directly with a supplier.”

“Good, that’s good.” Lacey put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and urged her even closer. “That’s why I’ve asked Tessa to be part of this hiring decision.”

“I don’t remember you saying you were a chef,” she said.

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I can cook.”

“He’s being modest,” Lacey said. “He can more than cook and you’ll never guess who sent him our way.”

Tessa raised an eyebrow that said she had lots of ideas—the devil, perhaps?—but didn’t answer.

“Charity Grambling,” Lacey said.

“Really?” Tessa seemed surprised, a smile pulling. “Then maybe you’re a spy or planning to poison our guests.”

He shook his head. “Neither. Is the local shopkeep an enemy of the state?”

“She didn’t want me to build this resort,” Lacey said as they all walked toward the kitchen. “She thought it was competition for her daughter’s motel, the Fourway.”

He snorted. “Hardly. And I say that as a paying guest.”

“You’re at the Fourway?” Tessa asked.

“We’ll have to do something about that,” Lacey said confidently.

He turned in time to catch Tessa give a wide-eyed “What the hell” look to Lacey, who shook her head quickly.

Screw it, he didn’t have time to dick around. If he couldn’t work here, he needed to move on. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, pausing at the kitchen door. “But if you’re going to kick me to the curb, then let’s not waste anyone’s time.”

“Okay,” Tessa said.

“No way,” Lacey countered.

After an uncomfortable beat, they all laughed, Lacey and Ian more than Tessa.

“So, which is it?” he asked.

“Let her taste your food,” Lacey said.

“I will,” Tessa replied. “But first I need to talk to you in your office, Lacey.” She gave her friend a gentle push in the opposite direction. “Can you excuse us for a second?”

“Of course.” He paused at the kitchen door, watching them walk away. No doubt they’d stroll back in to tell him he was out of the running.

Unless…

“Hey, Tess,” he called.

She turned, slowing enough for him to see something in her eyes. Surprise, humor, a hint of hope. He winked and waited for a quick laugh at the unsubtle flirt.

Instead she raised one eyebrow and kept walking. Bollocks. He’d lost that round.

When they turned into admin area that separated the restaurant from the spa, Tessa steered them into Lacey’s office and shut the door. “Seriously, Lacey?”

“I am completely serious. He’s a great chef. You should see his resume.”

“I’m sure he’s an amazing chef. Hell, if he cooks like he kisses, we’ll be Zagat rated by next month. But, Lacey, I practically threw myself at him the other night and I’m still stinging from how fast he turned me down.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

Tessa puffed out a frustrated sigh and dropped into the guest chair, which only gave her a bird’s-eye view of her dirty shorts and bare legs. “Look how I’m dressed. I look like a…a…”

“A gardener, which you are. Listen, Tess, give the guy a chance.”

“I did.”

“No, you asked him to be a sperm donor.”

“Well…”

“If you hadn’t, you’d probably still be in the bed with him, maybe just now coming up for air.”

Tessa let out a grunt and crossed her work boots. “I can’t do it. I can’t work with him.” She shook her head, trying so hard to convince herself that she meant that. “I mean, I guess I could, but he’s so…so…” Frickin’ hot it hurts.

“I guess if he upsets you that much, then we’ll find someone else.”

Tessa didn’t answer, mostly because she knew Lacey well enough to recognize that there was absolutely zero sincerity in that statement. She was ready to make the guy an offer now.

From behind closed eyes, Tessa corralled her thoughts, but the only thing her brain could conjure up were delphinium-blue eyes, hair the color of streaked hickory bark, and that menacing, deadly creature on his neck. Hell, he was a human garden of delights and dangers.

“Does he upset you?”

“Upset…” Doesn’t even begin to describe. She looked at Lacey and fired up some sarcasm. “Slightly.”

Lacey grinned. “I remember that feeling.”

“No.” She held her hand up to stop the inevitable—and wrong—comparisons. “This is different.”

Lacey ignored her. “I still have that feeling, to be honest.”

“No, no you don’t.”

“Hell, yeah, I do. Last night, as a matter of fact—”

“Lacey!” She slammed her hands on the armrests. “This isn’t like when you met Clay.”

“It’s not?”

“No, that was real. This is…not.”

Lacey laughed. “You don’t know that yet. And trust me, I do know what you’re feeling.” She dropped down into the chair next to Tessa. “Is it so horrible if a guy turns you on, Tess? Would it be the end of the world to get a little wild and crazy with him?”

She blinked at her. “I want to have a baby, not a fling with the tattooed man.”

“Have both.”

Could she do that? A powerful longing twisted through her whole body. Was that longing for him or just her usual maternal aching?

She sat up, an idea occurring. “Isn’t that against the Casa Blanca employee rules?”

Lacey laughed. “I’ll check the handbook I haven’t had time to create yet. Look, even if I had one, the property owner who fell into bed with her architect would be a hypocrite if she made a rule against fraternization.”

Tessa dropped her head back. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Sure you could. You damn near did it the other night.”

“I mean work with him. I’ll make a complete fool of myself.”

Lacey laughed. “Could be fun.”

“Fun for you and Joss and Zoe, maybe. Anyway, he seems to have no problem turning me down. It’s one thing to lust after a coworker, but it’s another to lust alone after a coworker.”

“I don’t think he’ll hold out for long.”

Lacey made it sound like fun and games, but the reality of the situation wasn’t fun, and getting pregnant wasn’t a game, despite her playful musings about seashells.

“I told him I wanted a sperm donor. What’s he going to think when he finds out I’m cooking up my eggs and some stranger’s sperm in a test tube to be carried in another woman’s belly?” She let out a soft groan. “Oh, God, when I spell it out like that, it sounds so horrible, doesn’t it?”

“Horrible?” Lacey was up and had her arm around Tessa in an instant, the move as natural as her next breath. “Honey, you want a baby and you’re moving heaven and earth to get it. You have to separate the two things. There is nothing horrible about wanting a baby and doing what you can to get one. That’s quite understandable. At the same time you met a man who makes your heart skip and your toes curl and the entire lower half of your body wake up and want to play. That’s understandable, too.”