down the back of her dress to make sure it wasn’t revealing anything important, she looked up to find Marc, wine bottle and paper bag in hand, leaning against the door of her grandmother’s walk-in pantry. As always, he looked delicious in a pair of low-hung jeans and a dark-blue shirt, which pulled nicely across his chest. And, as always, her body turned to filling at the sight of him.
Wingman sat at his feet.
“Hey, boy. I’ve got a leftover bone for you.”
Wingman stayed where he was. No tail wagging. No big, wet doggie kiss. Just a stoic stare.
“I was looking for my grandmother’s special paprika,” she said, giving another pat to her thigh. Nothing. “Did you see the new kitchen? Tanner’s almost done. He said just another few days.”
“Yup. Saw it and him earlier. He told me that you had a dinner date with Vince Jones.”
Wingman let out a snort. Maybe it was a huff. Lexi couldn’t tell.
“It wasn’t a date, it was just dinner. He was my new cli—wait. Are you jealous?”
He tugged at the brim of his well-worn ball cap. Lexi had always had a thing for guys in hats. And this guy in that hat was a dangerous pairing for women everywhere.
“Hell yeah, I am. My fake girlfriend went out to dinner with some guy who wants to get in her pants, and I had to hear it from her half-naked contractor,” he said as he pushed off the door and walked into the pantry, stopping so close that she had to rest a hand on his shoulder so she could crane her neck up and look in his eyes.
She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or scared, because the idea of him being jealous made everything seem suddenly real.
“You talked to Hard-Hammer Tanner? About me?”
“I was explaining my celebrity judge problem, and he happened to mention your dinner date.”
“Dinner tasting. With Vince and two of his female associates to pitch Sweet and Savory Catering as their official go-to caterer for all their corporate functions. And I got the job.”
“I heard.” He held up the bottle.
Now Lexi wasn’t sure if he was ticked about her meeting with Vince or that Hard-Hammer Tanner knew about her meeting before he did. Or if he was pissed about being jealous, an emotion that guys like Marc would see as being in direct violation of their man card.
“Did you hear that they’ve been trying to get on Pricilla’s delivery schedule for over a year with no luck? So when I mentioned that Pricilla will be providing all of the desserts for my events, they asked if I could cater their team meeting every morning.”
“Tanner failed to mention that. Congratulations.” He gave her one of his rare smiles that didn’t activate the dimple or come from charm. It was genuine and boyish and damn, he was hard to resist when he was being sweet. “Jerk-off also failed to mention that your dinner tonight was with the same guy you were pitching to.”
Wow. Marc DeLuca, Mr. Unaffected and Unattached, was really jealous. “I didn’t eat dinner, I served it. Which is why I was looking for the paprika so that I could make my famous paprikash.”
“Ah, cream puff.” Charming playboy back in place, he pulled her into a big hug, the cold champagne bottle dangling low enough to chill the back of her right thigh. “Are you cooking our first makeup dinner?”
She was about to say no, or shove the cold bottle down the front of his pants, when Wingman barked and took off running—away from her and through the kitchen. His leash, which Lexi saw had been looped around the door handle, pulled taut and—
“Wingman, no! Come back,” Lexi hollered, making an attempt to grab the handle, right as the pantry door slammed shut.
“Crap. Crap. Crap,” she muttered, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.
“He’ll be okay, probably went to see about that bone,” Marc joked.
“This isn’t funny. The pantry door is broken,” Lexi said, looking at the window and then down at her hips, wondering if she could shimmy out without getting stuck. Then she added up all the éclairs she’d eaten since she’d arrived back home. Nope. “Tanner was replacing the handle and the inside fixture broke, meaning it can only be opened from the outside, which is why I had the door propped open by the can of tomatoes.”
“So you’re saying we’re—”
“Locked in. As in stuck in here forever, so why are you smiling?” Even though