Home > Turn Up The Heat(15)

Turn Up The Heat(15)
Author: Kimberly Kincaid

Just like that, Shane’s life went back to normal.

 

 

Bellamy examined the fridge in the suite’s kitchenette with disdain. “We made pretty fast work of that hospitality basket, huh?” The only signs that it had even existed were some lonely slices of cheddar cheese and a jar of spicy mustard with nothing but dregs at the bottom.

“Yeah, sorry. I got the munchies last night after we came back,” Holly said, looking sheepish from where she lay sprawled on the couch.

“That’s an understatement. No lie, I thought she was going to lick the jar.” Jenna laughed, moving just in time to dodge Holly’s elbow.

Bellamy cracked a grin. The hour-long massage and matching facial she’d indulged in had gone a long way toward improving her mood, especially since the aesthetician had put special effort into reducing the bruise on her face. With some strategically placed concealer, she’d be good as new.

“Well, we can’t have you licking the jar. I don’t leave my friends hungry,” Bellamy said. She pondered room service, but breakfast had been lackluster at best. Which was to say that it had basically sucked. “I could go into town and check out that cute little grocery store we passed on our way in.”

The realization that she had no car hit her like a sucker punch, making her frown. But Jenna tossed over the keys to her BMW without pause.

“Take my car, you big, fat foodie. The crappy room service here has to be driving you bat-shit crazy. I don’t suppose you’ll get me a good, old-fashioned bag of Cheetos, huh?”

Bellamy made a face as she slipped into her black wool peacoat and threw a knit hat over her tangle of curls to properly hide their disarray. “Nothing about those is natural. But since it’s your car, I guess I can hook you up,” she sighed. Damn, she missed her car.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Or the smokin’ hot mechanic who was fixing it. Or the toe-curling kiss they’d shared last night before he’d run out of the bar like it had been on fire.

Not even a little bit.

Bellamy straightened, setting her shoulders. “I’d say call me if you think of anything else, but, well, you know.”

She held up her worthless cell phone as she hustled out the door. To be honest, as much as she knew she’d probably pay for it in the end, it had been kind of liberating not to worry about the stupid thing all day.

Bellamy made her way down the winding mountain road at a snail’s pace. Part of her care came from the gut-clenching drop off on the other side of the guardrail, but most of it was so she could take in the breathtaking view. Afternoon sun peeked through the high, thin clouds, bathing the tall, thick evergreens in sparkling light and smoke-like shadows. The sky, a mix of watercolor blue and iron gray, was a perfect canvas overhead, and by the time Bellamy reached the grocery store, her mood had crossed the threshold of decent for the second time that day.

She parked Jenna’s BMW in front of Joe’s Grocery, taking in a deep breath of mountain air before going inside. Bellamy didn’t have high hopes for what lay beyond the doors, but with a little luck, she’d be able to work some magic and do better than the surprisingly mediocre room service food at the resort.

“Okay, Joe. Let’s see what you’re made of,” Bellamy murmured under her breath.

As soon as she stepped inside the grocery store, a warm pang erased every ounce of trepidation she’d carried in with her. This wasn’t your typical, institutional mega-mart, with fluorescent lighting and symmetrical stacks of ho-hum produce. No, Joe’s was set up like a cross between a country store and a cozy gourmet market, with buffed hardwood floors the color of warm honey, and large bushel baskets overflowing with gorgeous red apples and bottom-heavy, green pears at the height of ripeness. There were assorted cheeses in a refrigerated dairy case against one wall, and a counter boasting prepared salads, half a dozen kinds of fresh bread, and pastries arranged on mouth-watering platters, all right before her eyes at the front of the store.

Bellamy had found her own personal version of the Promised Land.

“Afternoon, miss. Can I help you find anything?”

It took Bellamy a full minute to realize that the pleasant man behind the counter had been speaking to her. “Oh! Ah, I’m not sure. I think I’m a little overwhelmed. To be honest, I wasn’t really expecting…” Oh, my God. Were those wheels of Brie in the cheese case? And fresh figs in the basket next to it? Seriously?

The man laughed. “Not a whole lot of people do. In fairness, if you head back that way, you’ll find the normal stuff, too, so if you’re hankerin’ for Froot Loops, don’t fret.”Bellamy blinked, unsure where to begin. “Oh, no. This will do just fine. Thank you.” When she saw the basket holding fresh avocados, it was all she could do to suppress a squeal. She could make guacamole like nobody’s business. Holly’s nighttime munchies had just met their match.

By the time she’d made her way from the brisk scent of the grapefruits and navel oranges to the impressive selection of cheeses and deli meats in the case along the wall,

the basket draped over Bellamy’s arm was heavier than a stack of bricks. She had much more than she needed, but caring was the furthest thing from her mind. Her mood was lighter than it had been in days, or maybe even months. Enjoying every nanosecond was her number one priority before she had to face reality in the form of a boss who could screech like a howler monkey and an insubordinate car that had stranded her at the foot of a mountain with nothing but an arrogant mechanic to show for her troubles.

Make that an arrogant mechanic who could send a girl’s panties up in smoke with the heat of a single kiss, then saunter off like it was no big deal after he was done.

Bellamy turned toward the bushels of deep red Fuji apples, flushing to match their color as she forced herself to shove the thought aside. She’d forgotten about her wonder-ex, Derek, for God’s sake, and they’d kissed a hell of a lot more times than the whopping once she’d shared with Shane. Mentally ditching the image of one measly kiss should be a piece of cake. Except Derek’s kisses had never felt anything like Shane’s.

Come to think of it, nobody’s had.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second to block out the memory once and for all before swiping a couple of apples to top off her basket. Exhaling a slow breath, Bellamy turned toward the checkout line, leaving all thoughts of Shane Griffin in the dust.

 

 

Shane was taking the shortcut to the frozen dinner section in Joe’s Grocery when he caught sight of a fall of blond curls that could only belong to one woman. Great. He had to run into Bellamy at the grocery store, of all places. She couldn’t eat room service like everyone else up at the resort? And was that a wheel of Brie in her hand?

Christ. Kiss or no kiss, he sure had her pegged. He turned, intending to slink behind the tall stand of fresh cut flowers in order to avoid her. But the way she looked in profile made him stop, halfway hidden from where she stood, and stare.

Bellamy’s face was shrouded by a light blue hat that softened her features, and her fair hair spilled down her back in its trademark ringlets. Shane could see the bruise on her cheek, right by her eye, and he was shocked to see it was already starting to fade. Her green eyes glittered in the light pouring through the giant store windows, and she wore a smile that was as honest as a day’s worth of work.

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