Page 11 of All's Fair in Love and Pizza
I glowered as I wiped the corners of my mouth. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn his gaze followedmy tongue with the kind of attention that gave me all the wrong ideas. And what the actual fuck was I thinking? Rob Vilmer was off-limits, all caps. Not only was he most likely straight as an arrow, he was a minor celebrityand…he was a jerk.
“Good, isn’t it?” Rob’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was predatory and dangerous, and damn, that did something for me. All the wrong things.
“It’s edible.”
He barked a laugh. “You’re a piece of work, Cavaretti.”
“Me? First you leave coupons for my customers when you think I’m not looking, and now you’re making fucking pizza bagels. I had it right all along. You’re shamelessly poaching my business!”
“I’m not poaching your business. For fuck’s sake, man. I never intended to make pizza bagels, but?—”
“You did. So, congratulations, you’ve just started a pizza war.”
Christ, I sounded like a moron or a child who was pissed at the meanie who’d called dibs on his favorite swing at recess. I hated coming across as a dumb jock to someone who used to know me as being relatively cool under pressure. Now…well, I wasn’t at my best. And I hadn’t been all summer.
Rob shook his head in undisguised amusement. “A pizza war. That’s a new one. And how does that work? Are there rules in a pizza war, like…only five pepperonis on each slice or a quarter cup of mozzarella and it has to be from a specific region in Italy or?—”
“Funny. Very funny. Hey, I came tonight ’cause I was curious. I’d hoped you’d done the right thing, but no, you actually made the pizza bagels.”
“So what? You’re not gonna bully your way into settingmymenu. Nice try, but I don’t work for you.”
“It’s called common fucking courtesy,” I growled, stepping into his space. “It’s called not being a jackass.”
Rob’s lips twisted unpleasantly as he nudged the toe of his shoe to mine. “How amIthe jackass here?”
“You’re openly competing with an established business in a small town. That’s fucking hostile.”
He knit his eyebrows fiercely. “I’m making fucking bagels. Bagels don’t compete with pizza.”
“Until they do,” I countered.
Geez, his eyes were the clearest shade of blue and his lips were full and—Oh, no.No hate-lusting allowed.
“You’re out of line or out of your fucking mind…or both,” Rob huffed.
“Right…to you, this might be a joke. To us, pizza is a legacy that my family has carried on for generations.”
He rolled those fucking pretty eyes. “I never said or insinuated that this was a joke. But I will say that I wouldn’t have asked Amber to come up with new pizza recipes if you hadn’t basically challenged me to do it. So now…you bet your ass I’m making these bagels.”
“Really? That’s your solution? That’s your…”
My voice trailed off. What was I talking about? He was too close now, too distracting. And he was looking at me funny…like he was hungry.
Neither of us said a word, but something was happening. I could feel it in the air. A quiet before a storm.
Next thing I knew we were diving for each other, our mouths colliding in a greedy fusion.
One of us gasped. Probably me. I was fucking shocked by the ferocity and—Rob was gay or…at least queer?I could ponder that information later.
Right now, I was under attack in the sexiest way possible.
I tilted my chin as Rob thrust his tongue inside. And suddenly, we were off to the races—my fingers in his hair, his fist clutching at my shirt as we made out.
I couldn’t think, and I could barely breathe. It was as if there were a system malfunction and I no longer had control of my body. This was all instinct—hot and hungry. I wanted to tackle him, own him. I wanted?—
Rob broke the kiss and pushed away from me.
We stared at each other in obvious confusion.
