“You play rugby?” She squeezes her fingers around my forearm and waves at the rest of me with her other arm. “That explains all of this!”
“My impressive muscles?”
As her brow drops, so does her excitement level, and she backs a step away from me with a wary look. “Ego much? No one said your muscles were impressive.”
“Literally you did,” I deadpan and roll my eyes. “Five minutes ago.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Biting her lip, she lets her eyes rove over me again, and this time her gaze leaves a burning trail of heat. There’s something very real and open about this woman, making her impossible not to like when combining that with her spunk. “Okay, but were you serious about hiring me? Because I willsotake you on as a client if you were. I’ll take any of the guys from your team too. But you get first priority, of course. If you’re really willing to pay me to make meals for you.”
I glance at the house behind her. For a moment, I forgot why I came here in the first place, and instead of being overwhelmed with irritating nerves, I almost feel hopeful. Savannah could beexactly what I need, for more reasons than one. “Yes, I’ll pay you to make meals for me. On one condition.”
“Anything.”
This is a terrible idea, but it’s bound to be better than marching up to the door on my own like I was about to do. “You get me a meeting with Lola.”
Chapter 6
Savannah
“Yourcat’snotgoingto attack me, is he?” Logan doesn’t bother saying hello as he leans his head through my partially open door, taking a long look around my apartment.
Hello to you too.Swallowing my snarky response, I gesture for him to come inside so I can close the door. “Not unless you give him a reason to.” At the moment, I don’t know where Beef is hiding, but given it’s the middle of the day, he’s likely sound asleep.
I stand in awkward silence as Logan—the large, Australian,professionalrugby player—takes in my little space with that condescending look he never seems to lose. Whether he disapproves of my living choices, he’s not allowed to judge, because he refused to give mehisaddress when I asked where I could deliver his sample meals, so I can’t return the favor.
“I’ll come to you,” he told me over the phone yesterday and left no room for argument. Literally. He said that and hung up the phone, so I couldn’t argue that I don’t tell my clients where I live.
It’s only because I desperately need Logan’s business that I caved, double checking with Moxie that his teammate isn’t some serial killer on the loose, and sent him my address.
Moxie trusts this guy, and my cat trusts Moxie, and I trust my cat. Most of the time. What could go wrong?
“Okay,” I say with all the awkwardness my mother was never fully able to train out of me, “well, usually I like to heat the first meal in a prospective client’s oven. Get a sense of its quirks so I can adjust the instructions.”
“My oven’s normal,” he says without looking at me.
“No such thing, but I guess we can skip that part, and I’ll just walk you through how to—”
“I asked you to cook for me.” He finally looks at me, lifting one thick eyebrow, and I go weak in the knees from being so close to him.
The same thing happened yesterday once my panic subsided outside the Shafers’ house. He should not be allowed to be this beautiful. There must be something in the water in Australia to produce this man of a man alongside the Hemsworth brothers and Keith Urban. What do they feed people down there?
He gestures to the stove behind me. “So cook.”
I roll my lips inward and count to three before I respond. “That’s not how this works. Besides, you also asked me to convince your mom to talk to you when she made it pretty clear she doesn’t want that conversation. You’re asking a lot of me, buddy.” And I haven’t technically agreed to help him with Mrs. Shafer, even if he said he would only hire me if I did. I’m hoping there’s a workaround.
He rolls his eyes, as if I’m the most inconvenient person he’s ever met. Too bad for him, I can make things so much worse if he keeps up like this. I’ll have to rein myself in so I don’t lose him as a client—contracting with someone like him could be magical for my business—but that doesn’t mean I have to make this easy for him.
I was raised by a formidable Southern Belle who never lets anyone get in her way. I know how to stand my ground.
With a deep sigh, Logan steps toward me. “Savannah.”
At the long-suffering tone in his voice, I have to bite the inside of my lips again to keep from laughing. “Yes?”
“I have less than six months before I head back to Sydney and lose my chance to have a simple conversation with the woman who gave me up as a baby. Meanwhile, I’m playing for a team that can’t make it through a practice session without falling into chaos, and if I have to choke down another protein shake, I’m liable to go on a rampage. I’m prepared to pay you a staggering amount of money to keep me fed, so could you just…” His big hands curl into fists at his sides. “…do what I’m paying you to do? Please?”
Something about him is begging me to push his buttons, which is truly an unfortunate situation for me to be in. I like to think I’m a professional, and if I can get my business more deeply rooted in the sports scene like I want to, I’m going to deal with difficult athletes like him all the time. I need to get used to this. But boy, is he serious! I don’t understand how someone as kind and compassionate as Moxie can be friends with a cold wall of marble like Logan, which makes me thinkthey’re just teammates rather than actual friends. It’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to be around Mr. Ego here.
Folding my arms, I resist the urge to rise up on my toes to give myself some extra height. I’m average at five and a half feet, and Logan has at least six inches on me. There’s no way I’m physically intimidating this guy. But as my dad would say, my stubbornness is my defining feature (often to my detriment), so I won’t be bossed around.
