All's Fair in Love and Chocolate (Marietta Chocolate Wars #1) - Amy Andrews Page 0,12

her head slowly. “Nope.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Sure.”

Viv narrowed her eyes at his easy capitulation. Too easy. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

He laughed at her obvious skepticism. “I believe that you believe we’re not going to sleep together again.”

“But you don’t?” Viv’s fingers paused on the stem of the glass. “You’re going to…actively pursue picking up where we left off?” Ordinarily the mere thought of that would have annoyed the living daylights out of her but the buzz in her blood at the prospect of being pursued by Reuben could not be denied.

“Nope. Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t,” she said a little too quickly if his amused, faintly mocking expression was any indication.

“Okay. But…we have chemistry and I don’t know about you, Vivian, but I’ve been around long enough to know that shit does its own thing.”

God…even the way he looked at her as he’d said chemistry was full of snap, crackle and pop. Viv wished she could deny it but he was right. They had enough chemistry to explode an entire lab.

“Just as well our brains are bigger than our libidos then, isn’t it? I’m a fully grown adult who doesn’t let chemistry rule my life and is capable of impulse control. What about you?”

He nodded, still looking a little too amused for Viv’s liking. “Sure. I’m happy to take the pledge.”

Her brow crinkled. “The pledge?” This ought to be interesting.

“The Vivian pledge.” And then he laughed, clearly impressed with his play on words.

Viv rolled her eyes. Whatever worked for him. “Me too.”

Holding up his beer bottle he said, “We should drink to that.”

“Good idea.” It was hardly a binding contract but she’d keep him to it nonetheless. Viv lifted her wine and they met halfway, his bottle and her glass clinking. “Here’s to impulse control.”

“And chemistry denial.”

There was a faint note of derision in his tone that Viv chose to ignore. It could be done and she intended to prove it.

“Reuben! Here you are. I’ve been looking for you all over.”

Viv dragged her eyes off Reuben’s sexy, scruffy face to the woman stopping alongside them at the booth. She looked vaguely familiar.

“Your mom asked me to drop this in at the office for you but you’d already left and Hal thought you’d gone to the diner but then you weren’t there and Jenny from the nail boutique thought she’d seen you heading for Java Café but then Elise said she hadn’t seen you and maybe you’d come to Grey’s and here you are.”

Reuben smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Phillips.”

The woman handed over a small brown paper bag. “Be a doll and give this to your mom. I know you’ve been going over for supper every Friday night since you’ve come home.”

“That’s right.” He nodded politely as he took the bag. “I’ll see that she gets it.”

Mrs. Phillips’s attention turned to Vivian for a beat or two before turning back to Reuben with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow. Reuben complied with its imperious direction. “Mrs. Phillips, this is Vivian Dawson. She’s new to town.”

The name was also vaguely familiar as the older woman turned back to Viv and Viv dutifully stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Phillips.”

“Mmm,” the older woman said as she gave a brief shake before returning her attention to Reuben. “And you’re just being—” She stared disapprovingly at the beer bottle and wineglass. “Neighborly?”

Viv could see that Reuben was struggling to keep a smile in check. “That’s right.”

Mrs. Phillips glanced back at Viv, giving her a more thorough once-over this time and Viv clocked the exact moment she spotted the Delish logo. The woman practically went into a tetanus-induced rictus she stiffened so visibly. Then she narrowed her eyes and frowned as something else had obviously just occurred to her. “I know you,” she said, her voice not exactly hostile but not exactly friendly either.

Viv shrugged. “I’ve been setting up the store all week. Maybe you’ve seen me around town?”

“Nope,” Mrs. Phillips declared, “that’s not it.” She stared a little longer like the memory was just on the edge of her conscience. “Yes.” She snapped her fingers. “You were with Reuben at that hotel in Bozeman the weekend of the rodeo.”

Vivian blinked. That’s where she knew the name and face. Mrs. Phillips had mentioned something about fabric.

Jesus. Did she have Reuben lojacked?

“Oh yes, that’s right.” Viv smiled because she was the face of Delish and she would act with calmness and serenity.

And then the woman’s face changed, turning to glare at