Lust or Love (The Love Vixen #2) - Jeannette Winters Page 0,3

pick up a pizza on my way home.

Chapter 2

Jack Payne

I sure as hell didn’t need this job, but my old coach Robert, to whom I owed everything, called and said Deidre could use a hand with her struggling business. No way could I ignore a call for help like that. After all, I owed Robert a lot. People might think he robbed me of enjoying my youth, but without him, I never would’ve achieved my dream.

But sitting in a warehouse waiting for something to do wasn’t my idea of helping. Hell, I had no idea what her trouble was anyway. Was it financial? Looking around, it seemed as though she had inventory. Maybe she needed marketing help. Either way, I needed to know what she sold before I could come up with a strategic plan to assist her. I walked over to one of the boxes, pulled out a utility knife, and was about to cut it open when I heard her voice.

“What are you doing?” Deidre asked.

I turned to face her and was taken aback. It’d been almost ten years since I’d seen her and she was even more beautiful than I remembered. No longer a skinny teenager, her full curves drew my attention in, and my heart began to pound. But I wasn’t here to pick up where we’d left off. I’d been a lousy boyfriend back then, and that was the one thing that hadn’t changed.

“Robert said you needed my help. Figured I’d better get familiar with your inventory.”

She shook her head as she walked over to me, holding out her hand. “You don’t need to open the boxes, just unload them,” she stated.

“Excuse me?” I handed her the knife, making sure the blade had been retracted.

“My father said you were coming to help me in the warehouse.”

She wants me to pick things up and put things down. “You’re joking, right?”

“Hey, if you don’t want the job, I’m sure there’s someone else who does,” Deidre said. “And then you can go back to whatever you were doing before.”

She sounded…bitter. It might be because I had promised her I’d call, that I would keep in touch, and never did. But my time hadn’t been my own back then. If I wasn’t training, I was sleeping. My entire life was consumed with winning a gold medal. I never pretended otherwise.

“I’m willing to do whatever you need help with. Your dad made it seem like…” I hadn’t asked and realized now that I should’ve.

“Like I can’t run my business myself?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

I seemed to have walked into an uncomfortable family situation. That’s what I got for having only one thought on my mind: seeing Deidre again. If it meant I unloaded trucks for her, so what? It wasn’t for long and the benefits of the job stood right in front of me.

“Actually, he didn’t give me any details. Guess I made the wrong assumption,” I said, hoping that would suffice.

“I guess you did.”

I wasn’t ready to leave, not yet at least. Apologizing wasn’t something I did, but moving boxes might be the start of a way to show her that I was sorry.

“Where would you like me to start?” I asked. As far as I could see, everything was already in order.

“You’re going to stay?” she asked, her green eyes wide in shock.

“I am,” I said flatly.

Deidre looked around and said, “There’s a van parked outside. The stock needs to be unloaded and put back on the shelf, the one with my name on it.” She glared at me pointedly. “As is.”

Things might have changed over the years, but I knew Deidre wouldn’t do anything illegal. But it was obvious that she didn’t want anyone opening the boxes. I’d ask, but one thing I remembered about Deidre, she didn’t like being questioned.

I said, “Keys.” She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled them out, handing them to me. “When I’m finished, what would you like me to do?”

Deidre looked around and said, “I…don’t know. There aren’t any deliveries due until the end of the week. I guess you can…”

“What about those boxes?” I asked, pointing to a stack at the other end of the warehouse.

“Oh yeah, those. I don’t have shelving for them yet. I’ve been meaning to pick some up but haven’t had the time.”

“Why don’t I do that for you?” I offered.

“And put them together?” she said, doubtful.

I huffed. “It’s not brain surgery. How many do you need?”

Deidre said, “I’m