In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

and snapped a rubber band around the middle. Originally from China, Cai Qian knew every customer on the island by name and never failed to greet them with a smile. He also traveled the farthest distance to reach the market, but kept his prices competitive with the other vendors despite the added overhead.

“How is the summer squash looking?” Nick asked. “Do you think you’ll have some available next month?”

“Yes, sir. The squash is looking beautiful.” After handing over the greens, he gave a thumbs-up. “Almost ready.”

Making his baked Parmesan coated squash rounds always signaled the beginning of summer for Nick. “Looking forward to them.”

Tucking his change into his pocket, Nick turned to leave, only to collide with another shopper. The collard greens hit the floor as he reached out to steady the person and found his hands wrapped around Lauren Riley’s waist. They stared at each other in shock for several seconds before she jerked back, forcing him to let go.

The warmth of her body continued to resonate against his palms.

“I’m sorry I—” she started.

“I didn’t—” Nick said at the same time.

“…see you,” they both finished.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He’d hit her pretty hard and though Lauren was tall, she was slender. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and tucked a platinum lock behind her ear. “No. I’m fine. I should have been paying more attention.”

“No, I should have looked before I turned.”

Feeling like a preteen who’d brushed against a girl for the first time, Nick bent to pick up his greens. Lauren did the same and they collided again, this time with their foreheads. He jerked back up to find her holding her head and, to his surprise, she was laughing.

“I didn’t think you did that,” he said, bending to retrieve the greens.

“Do what?” Lauren asked.

“Laugh.”

She sobered and light brows drew together. “I’m not a robot.”

He remembered the feel of her in his hands and had to agree. “It’s nice.”

“What is?”

“Your laugh.”

Crossing her arms, she tapped a finger on her elbow. “Are you finally hitting on me?”

The finally threw him off. “Excuse me?”

“Roxie said you hit on everyone, but you haven’t hit on me.”

Until this moment, he’d never regretted the reputation he’d carefully cultivated since arriving on the island.

“You and Roxie are both wrong. I don’t hit on everyone, and I’m not hitting on you.”

Lauren straightened. “Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why aren’t you hitting on me? What’s wrong with me?”

If she was trying to confuse him, she was doing a bang-up job. “You want me to hit on you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I think you did.”

She huffed as if he was the one being difficult. “I’m just curious, that’s all. If someone said you give candy bars to everyone but you didn’t give one to me, I’d be asking the same question.”

To appease her curiosity, Nick said, “You’re a chef.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t hit on chefs.”

Holding his gaze, she looked to be assessing the truthfulness of his answer. “So if I wasn’t a chef, you’d hit on me?”

If he said yes, he was the horndog Roxie had made him out to be. If he said no, he’d be lying.

“Is this your way of hitting on me?” he asked.

Lauren bristled. “I am not hitting on you.”

“But you want to.”

During their previous encounters, she’d been an expert at hiding her thoughts, so watching her struggle to maintain that cool demeanor through this conversation was highly entertaining.

“To be clear,” she said, “I am not hitting on you. I do not want to hit on you. And I don’t want you to hit on me.” The icy glare returned. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I could show you around,” Nick said. The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying.

She met his eyes and he could see the tension in their blue depths. “Around what?”

“The market.” Nick waved to encompass their surroundings. “Some of these vendors offer larger shipments for the restaurants. You’ll need the connections, and this would give you a good opportunity to find out what’s available to build out your menu.”

Indecision softened her features as she glanced around. “I would like to line up some suppliers.”

“Then now’s your chance. Follow me.”

Nick led her down the center aisle and around to the larger stands outside the pavilion. Knowing that proteins would be her most important ingredients, he headed straight for Martha Dowry’s stand.

“Hey, Martha. I have a new customer for you.”

The older woman looked up over the rim of the small round reading glasses that were ever-present on the tip of her nose. Sharp green eyes locked on Lauren. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“I’m new,” Lauren replied.

“From where?” Martha asked.

“Boston.”

With a huff of derision, Martha crossed her arms. “What can I do for you?”

Nick made the introductions. “This is Lauren Riley. She’s the new chef over at the old Marina restaurant.”

“It’s called Pilar’s now,” Lauren added.

Thin lips settled into a hard line. “What kind of food do you plan to make?”

“Sophisticated fare that offers visitors to the island something more discriminating than what they can get right now.”

Both brows shot up as Martha shifted her gaze to Nick. “More discriminating? She hasn’t been here long, has she?”

“A little over two weeks,” she answered for herself. “I’m sure there are tourists who would appreciate a dining option a level above what’s already available.”

The two women embarked on a staring contest and Nick was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Martha was old school. She didn’t like city folk, as she called them, nor was she the fine dining type. But she did admire grit and a strong work ethic. Both of which Nick had no doubt Lauren possessed.

“What’s your best dish?” Martha asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t have only one best dish, but a favorite is cock crab and poached lobster with a bouillabaisse sauce.”

Not a surprise coming from a New England chef.

“I prefer scallops,” Martha replied.

“Then you’ll have to come in for my Dived scallops with charred leeks in an