He popped a sliced banana into his mouth and chewed. As the rich flavor of the Caramel Kahlúa sauce tempted his taste buds, he couldn't help but wonder if the standard desserts he served at Tremaine's Downtown were too ordinary in comparison. It had taken him and his chef years to perfect the main courses and side dishes that blended French cuisine with seafood fare. There was no doubt they had helped to gainer a five-star recommendation for his establishment and rave reviews, yet he'd never given much thought to the desserts he'd initially chosen when the restaurant first opened years ago.
Now, he did. Just as he'd spent the time and care refining and improving the entrées at Tremaine's Downtown to a high standard of excellence, maybe it was time to revamp and spruce up the dessert menu, as well. It would be a way to make sure that the final course of the meal lived up to the whole Tremaine's Downtown experience.
"So, what do you think of the fondue?" Kayla was back, her expression expectant as she waited anxiously for his answer. "The Pink Squirrel especially?"
"Incredible," he stated with honest enthusiasm, and licked a smear of Caramel Kahlúa from his thumb. "All of it, and especially the pink squirrel."
"See, you aren't a wuss at all," she teased as her dancing eyes drifted to a spot just below his lower lip. "But you do have a bit of the sauce right below your mouth."
He swiped at his chin with the back of his hand. "Did I get it?"
"Ahh, no…" Tentatively, she reached out and removed the sticky substance in a slow caress of her thumb. If it were just the two of them, he would have grabbed her wrist and sucked the sweetness right off her finger, and nibbled and tasted his way up her arm from there.
"See?" She showed him the smear of white froth, a smile in her eyes and on her lips. "That's why only the adventurous should attempt to eat the Pink Squirrel fondue. It can be quite messy."
"Maybe next time you'll just have to feed it to me so I can avoid the mess." That adorable blush swept across her cheeks again, and he had to stifle an amused laugh. "So, tell me, do you make all these desserts, cakes and candies from scratch?"
She grabbed a napkin to wipe her sticky finger and nodded. "Using only the finest, freshest ingredients, of course."
Judging by the tastes he'd encountered, he didn't doubt that in the least, which made his interest in her twofold. "And where is your shop located?"
"SeaportVillage," she said, naming one of San Diego's biggest and most popular landmarks for tourist shopping. "Pure Indulgence has been there for about six months now."
Finished with his fruit and fondue, he handed her the empty plate, which she put in the plastic bin of dirty dishes behind her. "Have you ever heard of Tremaine's Downtown?"
"Of course I have. You can't live in San Diego and not have heard of the restaurant, though I've never been there myself." She refilled the fork and napkin holders, keeping busy as she talked. "But if you're looking for a recommendation, I hear the food and service there are outstanding."
He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. "So I've been told a time or two."
She blinked at him, momentarily confused by his comment, then understanding dawned. "Ohmigosh, Tremaine's Downtown is your restaurant?"
"Yep. And I was thinking, after trying your desserts and seeing that there's more out there than chocolate mousse and plain cheesecake, it's time I update my dessert menu. Make it more exotic and different, rather than just offering the same old thing that everyone else does."
"Updating is always a good thing," she agreed. "As is offering your dining customers something different and unique to your restaurant alone."
"Exactly," he said, pleased that she concurred with his way of thinking. "Do you accept custom orders? Such as creating one-of-a-kind desserts that could be exclusive to Tremaine's Downtown alone?"
Her eyes widened, and she placed a hand on her chest. "You want me to design your desserts?"
Her tone was incredulous, her expression so awed that he wanted to laugh, but instead he nodded seriously. "Yes, I do."
"Oh, wow," she breathed in amazement. "I've never had anyone ask for an exclusivity agreement before, but in this case, it can certainly be arranged."
"Excellent." That's precisely what he wanted to hear, and he experienced a rush of anticipation over the thought of giving his dessert menu an overhaul, especially with his new restaurant, Tremaine's Uptown, being built within the next year. And it didn't hurt that he'd be in close contact with Kayla and could get to know her better. "Do you have a business card with you?"
"Actually I do." Withdrawing a card from her pocket, she handed it to him from across the table. "I never leave home without them."
Another brush of their fingers sent a surge of awareness rippling between them. He caught the flash of heat and desire in her dark gaze, and felt the intimate connection that teased them both with an abundance of possibilities. It was an attraction he intended to pursue, right along with sampling more of her decadent desserts.
"This is great, Kayla Thomas." He tucked the business card into his inside coat pocket for safekeeping. "You'll definitely be hearing from me."
Their eyes met and held, her mouth curving into that soft, sensual smile of hers that too easily wreaked havoc on his libido. "I'm looking forward to it," she said, her voice husky.
"Jack, darling, there you are!"
Jack stiffened at the high-pitched, overly possessive sound of his date's voice interrupting his too-short interlude with Kayla. Reality intruded with an unpleasant jolt, and he reluctantly turned to find Gretta Ward fast approaching on her stiletto heels. The other woman eyed Kayla with disdain before she came up to Jack's side, hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow, and pressed her silicone-enhanced breasts and lithe, slender body against his.
His gut clenched hard as he watched the hopeful smile fade from Kayla's lips. Disappointment etched her features, and he knew she'd come to the conclusion that Gretta was his girlfriend and everything that had transpired between them had been a flirtatious farce. She likely thought he'd been toying with her like some kind of insensitive jerk. Of course that was far from the truth, but there was no way to explain the situation without making a bigger mess of things.
Gretta pouted up at him, her sulky expression adding to the dramatic display. "I've been looking for you for the past fifteen minutes."
She scolded him in a way that made him feel like a small child, which grated on his nerves, as did most of Gretta's antics. Over the years, he'd gotten into the habit of dating convenient women, and he didn't realize how much they bored and disgusted him, until now.
Very calmly, he replied. "You disappeared off to the ladies' room, and while you were gone I thought I'd try out the desserts."
Gretta wrinkled her nose at the assortment of cakes, candies and other treats, then brazenly slipped her hand inside his coat and smoothed her palm over his chest in a blatant display of ownership. "I'm the only sweet thing you need, darling."
He inwardly cringed and tried to disengage her from his arm to give himself breathing room. Like a leech, she refused to let go. "The fruit and fondue are great. You ought to give it a try."
"I'll pass." Gretta slanted a quick, assessing glance toward Kayla. "I work hard at keeping my figure in shape, and that means watching what I eat."
While Gretta's tone was casual, her words sounded too much like a deliberate slur against Kayla's softer, fuller curves. And judging by the quick flash of pain he saw in Kayla's eyes, followed closely by her physical withdrawal, he knew Gretta's comment had struck a vulnerable nerve.