Tempted Again by Cathie Linz Page A

pizza for me?”
    “No. But that was a good idea. Maybe your sister ordered it.”
    Marissa eyed the nervous delivery guy suspiciously. “Was it the sheriff? Did he pay for the pizza?”
    “I’m not allowed to say, ma’am.”
    Okay that was the second time the teenager had called her “ma’am.” Her glare broke down his resistance. “Yes, it was the sheriff.” He took off before she could interrogate him further.
    “Why would the sheriff order you a pizza?” Marissa’s mom asked over the phone.
    “Never mind. It’s just a mistake,” Marissa said. “I’ll call you later.”
    Without waiting to consider the consequences, shemarched the few feet to his door and knocked. He opened the door, still wearing the dark blue T-shirt and worn jeans he’d had on earlier.
    “I don’t want your pity pizza.” She shoved the box at him.
    “Okay. Bad idea.” Connor took the pizza and slammed the door in her face.
    Marissa stood there a second, stunned. Then she
bammed
on his door.
    The instant he opened it, she said, “Don’t slam the door on me. That’s rude.”
    “So is shoving a pizza in my face.”
    He was right. “It wasn’t your face,” she muttered.
    “You know what I mean.”
    “I was angry.”
    “No kidding,” he drawled. “Don’t blame me for the crap your ex did to you.”
    His accusation stung. “I don’t. I blame you for the crap
you
did to me.”
    “That was ten years ago. Get over it.”
    “I’m trying to.”
    “By shoving a pizza at me?”
    “Yes.”
    “And how’s that working for you?”
    “It sucks,” she admitted morosely. “Everything sucks. Except for the pizza. Does Angelo still make the best pizza ever?”
    “You haven’t tried it since you’ve been back?”
    She shook her head. She didn’t have extra funds for eating out. She’d applied every penny to getting a security deposit for an apartment. Her credit cards were maxed out so she couldn’t get a cash advance. “I’ve beentoo busy,” she said. “Anyway I’m sorry if I overreacted to the pizza thing. Have a good night.” She turned and hurried toward the haven of her own place.
    “Hold on a second.” He put a hand on the box. “It’s still warm. Will you have a hissy fit if I offer it to you?”
    Her pride wouldn’t allow her to take his generous offering. But her mouth was watering. She didn’t have much food in the house yet. “That’s okay. But thanks.”
    “You’re sure?” He held it out enticingly.
    She nodded but couldn’t seem to move away. It’s as if the smell of tomato sauce and cheese and basil had her mesmerized. She blamed it on the pizza, not on Connor.
    “Have a slice,” he said. “You know you want to.”
    “Maybe just one slice…”
    “You can take it with you if you’re afraid to come in.”
    “It’s not a matter of being afraid.”
    “Right. Well, there is the matter of me having a dining table while you don’t.”
    “Only until tomorrow.”
    “The pizza won’t last that long. Come in and eat.”
    She was weak. She wanted pizza. Badly. Now. She stepped inside. “Just for a minute…”
    She vowed she’d set a new record for “eat and run” even as she took a slice and the paper napkin he offered her. Then she had to sit down at his dining room table—a nice pine job that looked like it was handmade—because it was rude to stand there and eat like a feral rabbit. Not that rabbits ate pizza.
    She could hear her mom saying “What? Were you raised by wolves? Take your elbows off the table. Close your mouth while chewing.” Marissa had been all offive at the time. She liked to think she had better manners now.
    She closed her eyes and briefly focused on the taste of the pizza. “No one makes a pizza like Angelo’s,” she said.
    “Mmm.” Apparently Connor’s mom had taught him not to talk with his mouth full as well. A moment later he said, “Would you like a beer?”
    She shook her head.
    “I ran into Jose earlier today,” Connor said, offering her