In the course of the next week, both Jake and Liv were busy enough to relegate heated memories to the discard bin.

But on Monday when Liv was making her usual deliveries, she found herself experiencing a heightened disquiet on a couple levels as she turned into the alley behind Chaz’s restaurant.

First, sales weren’t her strong suit, and whenever she had to pitch her wines, she was nervous. While Jake Chambers hadn’t refused the bottles Chaz had ordered last week, she wasn’t sure he would remain a customer. There were lots of wines out there and even more wine merchants. He didn’t have to buy hers.

Secondly, she had to admit, his image had popped into her thoughts once or twice in the course of the week. He had killer sex appeal, there was no denying it. So it would be a matter of keeping her cool and remembering this was a business call. And also remembering that men like Jake Chambers weren’t on her wish list.

When she walked through the door into the kitchen, she saw him in the back, seated at Louie’s desk, a phone to his ear.

He swung around at the sound of the door opening, lifted one hand, fingers splayed, indicating five minutes, and then pointed at a table and chairs near the doorway into the dining room.

Fucking a she looks good, he thought, wondering if she always made her deliveries in sexy dresses and spiky heels. But hey, it was a great sales tool. It was working for him; after a dutiful week of celibacy, it was really working. Cutting his conversation short, he told his supplier he’d get back to him.

“Sorry,” he said, walking toward Liv a moment later. He jerked his thumb back toward the desk. “I’ve been on the phone or the computer nonstop ordering shit. I repeat,” he said with a smile, sitting down on the other side of the small table, “delivery people look a helluva lot better out here.”