Free Delicious by Jami Alden

Tyler’s body language for several moments. Though slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable, Tyler didn’t appear to be hiding anything. Tyler might have harbored an attraction to Reggie, but Gabe’s gut said Tyler wasn’t his guy. But he would keep an eye on him just in case.
    Stiffening under Gabe’s intense scrutiny, Tyler muttered, “Don’t worry, Gabe. I’m not going to poach on your claim.”
    So much for keeping his personal feelings under wraps. Still, he did his best to regain his composure and set the record straight. “I’m not in a position to make any claims.”
    He turned back to the crowd, back to where Reggie had been chatting with a fan just a few feet away.
    Except she was no longer there.
    Frantic, Gabe scanned the crowd. Lots of people were mingling and chatting, sipping wine. No Reggie. Where the fuck was she? He’d taken his eyes off her for half a minute, and now she’d disappeared.
    He plowed through the crowd, muttering apologies as he knocked against wineglasses and stepped on feet. Great, while he’d been focusing on her hot ass one minute and then assuring Tyler and Natalie he didn’t want a one-way ticket to Reggie’s pants the next, she’d managed to slip off alone.
    It was exactly as he had feared. Once again, he failed to maintain a professional distance, and it compromised his ability to do his job. He asked the organizer if she’d seen Reggie and choked down panic when she said no.
    He started moving through the store, scanning down each aisle, growing more anxious every second that the slimeball bothering her had shown up tonight, had somehow pulled her away from the crowd.
    He was supposed to be the professional, the one in control of the situation. He took every client seriously. But Reggie was different. He would never forgive himself if his carelessness got her hurt.
    Suddenly, there she was. He skidded to a stop, relief, quickly surpassed by fury, sweeping through him. Reggie was standing in the middle of the ethnic foods aisle, talking with a nice-looking lady in her fifties, expounding on the wonders of fish sauce.
    She’d nearly given him a fucking heart attack, and here she was blithely talking about fish sauce.
    Without thinking, he walked up and grabbed her arm. He barely held his voice to a reasonable volume as he said, “Don’t ever wander off like that again.”
    The woman gave him an uneasy look and took a few steps back.
    Some still semi-rational part acknowledged the image he presented. A big gorilla of a guy walking up and manhandling a much smaller woman. But he was too angry, both at himself and her, to really give a shit.
    “Gabe, do you mind? I was having a conversation with—” Reggie smiled beseechingly at the woman. “I’m sorry, remind me of your name?”
    “Miriam,” the woman replied with an uneasy smile. Clearly, she expected Gabe to start smashing things at any moment.
    Reggie nodded and tried to pull her arm out of Gabe’s grip. He didn’t give an inch. “Miriam wanted to know about the fish sauce I put in the curry I made.” She turned back to Miriam as though Gabe didn’t have his hand wrapped all the way around her bicep. “So like I was saying, if you can’t find this, you can use soy sauce.”
    Miriam nodded eagerly.
    “I’m sorry, Miriam, but Reggie really has to go.” Careful not to hurt her, Gabe all but lifted her off the ground and yanked her down the aisle. Miriam watched their progress with an expression of horror.
    Reggie struggled violently against his hold. “Let go of me, you big yeti.”
    Yeti? Even through his haze of anger, he had to give her points for originality.
    He pulled her back over to the demo area where the last of the crowd was lingering. All conversation stopped as Gabe hauled her past without a word and asked the event organizer if they could use her office to talk.
    He pulled her inside the tiny closet-like room and slammed the door shut behind them.
    “How dare you do that? How dare you