Page 10 of Sparring Partners
“We’ve got those covered. It’s the salad leaves and herbs we’re looking to source, both native and more exotic varieties. Perhaps tomatoes, but I’d have to come back to you on that.”
Adrian got up and crossed the kitchen. Luca followed him with his eyes. With each step, Adrian’s muscles flexed beneath his worn jeans, hinting at a raw strength barely contained. As his T-shirt hugged his torso, so his jeans hugged his thighs and backside, leaving little to the imagination as to what lay beneath the fabric. Everything hinted at, nothing flaunted. Luca looked away, pulling at his shirt collar.
Adrian returned with a large, knobbly tomato.
“Fresh from the vine, about an hour before you arrived.” Large and misshapen, there was none of the perfection of the supermarket about it. “Taste it.” Adrian held it out.
The words hung between them like a challenge. Luca took the fruit, feeling its firmness in his hand before biting into it. The flavour exploded on his tongue, sweet, tangy, and juicy, bursting with the flavour of summer.
“Good?”
Luca nodded, and fumbled for a handkerchief as the juice trailed down his chin. Adrian beat him to it as he thrust a sheet of kitchen towel at him.
“Everything I do here is about quality, and that comes at a cost.”
Now they were getting to the crux. “I need to know more about your logistics and quality standards first.”
“Fair enough.” Adrian squared his broad shoulders. “Let’s start with logistics. Deliveries are made to my customers three times a week, but I can be flexible within reason. As to standards, like I said, I’ve got all the certification and we can go through the piles of paperwork if you think you’re going to want to take this further. As for pricing…”
Adrian named his price.
Luca said nothing. He’d negotiated more contracts than he could remember, and for bigger fry than salad veggies. But Adrian was right about not selling his produce cheap.
“Your prices are higher than our other local suppliers,” Luca said, keeping his tone neutral.
“But then I’m not just another local supplier. If they could give you what you’re looking for, then you wouldn’t have come knocking on my door. Would you?” Adrian sat back in his chair, his posture relaxed as though he couldn’t care less as to whether they carried on with the conversation or not. “If you want the best, you have to be willing to pay for it otherwise there’s no point continuing.” A smile flittered over his lips as he tilted his chin upwards.
The arrogant, prickly farmer was back in the room. Not that he’d ever left. Luca clenched his jaw, doing his best to maintain his composure. “I understand that, but we also have to consider our budget.”
Adrian leant in slightly, and Luca fought the urge to breathe in the man’s scent.
“I’m not trying to screw you over but I know what my produce is worth. If you can’t appreciate that, then maybe you’re right about this being a waste of time. Your’s and mine.”
“You understand I can’t give you an answer now.” Luca pushed himself up to standing, and Adrian did the same. They were barely inches apart, and in the warm room with the late afternoon sun streaming through, he was more aware than ever of Adrian’s sheer physical presence. Tall, dark, and handsome was a cliché but the terse, grouchy farmer ticked every one of those boxes. Exuding powerful, confident masculinity from every pore, he was an easy man to be attracted to.
Not that Luca had any intention of being attracted.
“I’ll give you a call by the middle of next week if that’s acceptable?”
“Fine with me. But I should make you aware that I’ve been approached by another Exeter restaurant. If you want to work with me I need to know no later than Wednesday. And no, it’s not a ploy on my part. People approach me, not the other way around.” The tilt of Adrian’s lips was more smirk than smile.
Cocky, arrogant, and one hundred per cent undeniably hot as fuck.
Deep in his belly, Luca’s muscles tightened.
“I assure you, I’ll call before then.” Luca cleared his throat and held out a hand which felt far from steady.
Adrian took him in a firm grip that lingered a second too long. Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow down to the warm pressure of Adrian’s fingers wrapped around Luca’s own. The click-click of paws across the stone floor broke the spell and Adrian pulled away first, the loss of contact like a sudden drop in temperature. Luca looked down to see Spud staring up at him, his tail wagging hard.
Adrian swooped to stroke the dog behind one of its ears. “You looking for your dinner already, boy?” he said softly, his smile gentle and eradicating all his hard lines as he focused on the dog.
“Thank you for your time.”
Adrian looked up. He bit down on his lower lip, his brow furrowing a little, as though he were contemplating a question. “I’ll see you to your car,” he said, instead, his voice gruff and abrupt.
Outside, Adrian pointed to the track leading from the gate. “At the bottom, take the left turn. Follow the road, don’t take any diversions as otherwise you’ll likely end up on the moor. You’ll pick up the satnav soon enough. Or do you want to follow me? So you don’t get lost again?” Adrian nodded to the big Land Rover parked to the side of the house, the same one Luca had blocked in at the pub. Heat seared Luca’s cheeks.
“That’s not necessary.” Irritation burned through his words. “I may have been late, but I got here, ergo I can get back. Don’t you think?”
