Dirty Chef Page 7

  I didn’t know where I found my courage, but I straightened and asked, “I never responded to your last text, did I?”

  He shook his head, his gaze growing a bit more intense.

  I swallowed again, this time a bout of nervousness. “I’ll have something to do on my break later, then.”

  He smirked slightly, just a small twist of his lips. “Can’t wait.”

  What the hell was happening? Wait, nope. No. I wasn’t going to question it. Isla’s advice. I was going to be open and accepting and…whatever else she’d told me. The woman could talk a lot.

  * * *

  “Did that guy just give you his number?” Adam asked with a cocked brow.

  Did he have to see that? Christ. I threw out the note under the bar and watched the two gentlemen leave.

  “He also didn’t look me in the eye once,” I said.

  Adam rolled his eyes and turned to the grill. “Like it’s the first time that has happened.”

  Perhaps not, but this one had been a piece of work. At least he’d tipped well.

  “Motherfuckers,” I heard Adam mutter.

  I stifled a smile and took a sip of my water. My cramps were acting up again, and I’d lost my energy halfway through tonight’s service.

  There was a slight lull, so I decided to take a quick break. The servers were handling everything on the floor, and no one wanted a new drink. After swallowing two painkillers, I brought out my phone and texted Adam something that was… Well, it wasn’t flirty. It was plain honesty.

  I could use my emotional support human and Adam pillow after this shift.

  He didn’t answer through a text for this one. Instead, after reading it, he gave me a hug from behind, a tight, long one, and murmured in my ear. “Midnight movie night when we’re done.”

  I nodded and exhaled unsteadily.

  Goddamn period. Everything made me emotional. Thankfully, I was on my last twenty-four hours.

  * * *

  I was the first one to leave once we’d closed. Everything hurt, and I couldn’t keep up with the charade. Or my mood swings, for that matter.

  Although the button-down showing more cleavage had been worth it, I got rid of it as soon as I was in my room. I took a hot shower, my brain as much a mess as my stomach, and stayed under the spray long enough that I was fairly sure Adam had returned upstairs by the time I was done.

  Ugh. One of those nights, I supposed. I felt vulnerable, weak, and dumb. And I was a coward. I’d jumped through so many hoops and taken every risk when it came to the restaurant, but when it came to Adam, I froze up. I didn’t dare take a single chance, mainly because we didn’t want the same things in the future.

  On the other hand…what did I want the most? A child with someone I loved? Or no children, to be with the man I could barely breathe without.

  I was optimistic enough to believe I could find someone. I’d like him. Maybe he’d work in an office here in town. We’d have some hobbies in common, and the sex would be okay. I would love him.

  Then…then I’d head into work and see Adam. I’d see him—I’d see everything I’d ached for since I was fifteen.

  On the off chance that he would want me…should I risk it all?

  “Cazzo.” I stepped into a pair of panties and snatched up one of Adam’s T-shirts I might have stolen for particularly lonely nights, and then I walked out of my room.

  Two things hit me at once. One, I’d left my room wearing way too little. Two, Adam was on the couch—with his pillow, his duvet, and food for us, and now I was gonna cry.

  “I’m gonna cry,” I whimpered, fanning my face.

  “Aw, baby, come here. Tell me what to do.”

  I coughed around a sob, feeling utterly embarrassed, and walked over to the couch where I immediately buried myself under the duvet. “There’s nothing you can do but survive my hormonal roller coaster.”

  And possibly keep calling me baby. And maybe love me forever.

  Please?

  He gathered me close and stayed in a seated position, and he patted his thigh. “My turn to scratch your head.”

  I sniffled and wiped at my cheeks. He was so sweet. “Th-thank you.” I cleared my throat, making myself as comfortable as I could.

  Adam handed me the heating pad, and I placed it under my tee and sighed a little at the warmth.

  Once I was lying down, knees pulled up, duvet spread over me, I felt Adam’s fingers slide through my damp hair. The sensations caused me to shiver. My skin broke out in gooseflesh.

  “Bad month, huh?” he murmured.

  I nodded and closed my eyes. “You’re making it better, though.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. Anything you want, name it.”

  Oh. If only he knew.

  And the thing was, he was bound to figure things out eventually. I wasn’t sure this was just cramps and period hormones. These past couple years had been the worst, and my façade was slipping. I couldn’t cling to the friendship much longer, no matter how much I needed it in my life.

  The heating pad combined with Adam’s ministrations in my hair allowed me to relax more and more for every minute that passed. The cramps retreated into a dull ache. I wasn’t ready to eat, but I could unclench and breathe easier.

  Worst-case scenario, I confessed my feelings to him, he didn’t reciprocate, and things were weird for some time. He was still Adam. A sweetheart to me. He would let me down gently and help me rescue the remains of our friendship. The truth would be out there. I would heal—after twelve thousand years.

  I was long overdue. Right then and there, I decided I would talk to him after the Valentine’s celebration was over at the restaurant.

  Eight

  Alessia Rossi

  I felt much better the following morning. Not only was my period over, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Okay, it’d been replaced by a bucket of unease, though I could work with that. I would fight my hardest to make the best of the situation once I’d come clean.

  Adam had already taken off when I emerged from my bedroom, and he’d left a note on the kitchen island to let me know the taste testing began at five.

  I sent him a text.

  Thank you for everything last night. You’re officially my hero, even though you’re not here to accept my attack hug.

  I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the send button. Should I maybe take a lighthearted route and add some playfulness? He did like it when I goofed off with him. Besides, I wouldn’t turn down another reaction like the one I got last night.

  So I added a bit to the text.

  I’d wear the same shirt as yesterday if that would make the hug more tolerable.

  There. It was sent. No taking backsies.

  Adam replied by the time I poured coffee into my to-go mug.

  I’m just downstairs, so if you haven’t left for your errands yet, I suggest you come down here and give me that hug. With or without the shirt.

  I smiled like a fool and felt heat bleeding across my cheeks. The effect he had on me was dangerous. He made me forget everything else.

  The shirt stayed in my hamper, though. I was showered, dressed, and ready to go to Elise’s shop. Adam would have to deal with my winter clothes.

  Before I left, I donned a knitted beanie and threw my coat over my arm, and then I took the elevator down. My coffee was slowly waking me up for my walk. I’d borrow Adam’s truck, but it was only two blocks. I could use the exercise. It was one of the reasons I’d never gotten my own car. Everything in Cedar Valley where we lived was within walkable distance.

  Adam was alone in the restaurant, and he’d been working up a sweat. He was too hot for his own good, standing there by the grill in only jeans and a wife-beater, country rock pouring out, a towel thrown over his shoulder, and always a baseball cap on backward.

  I wanted to lick every inch of him.

  Dio.

  “Morning,” I said lightly and walked behind the bar.

  He turned to
me and gave me a quick once-over before a sly little smirk took over.

  “Hoping for the shirt?” I joked.

  “Maybe.” He smiled and wiped his hands on the towel. “But unless I’m mistaken, that little blouse thing can be unbuttoned too.”

  I exhaled a small laugh. He’d never given me this kind of attention before, not this blatantly. Now I couldn’t be sure if he was kidding. It didn’t feel like it.

  I prayed it wasn’t wishful thinking.

  “Where’s my attack hug?” he asked.

  I grinned and rolled my eyes, then put down my coat and coffee on the counter. “Right here, my goofball.” I quickly snuck into his embrace and locked my arms around his middle, where I was assaulted by the smell of all Adam, his deodorant, and food.

  He tightened his hold on me, his scruffy cheek touching my temple.

  I took a deep breath and let his presence steal me away.

  “I don’t feel attacked,” he murmured.

  I giggled and inched back enough to peer up at him. Big fat mistake. His hotness took my breath away, and the air around us suddenly felt charged.

  His gaze changed before my eyes. Humor faded, and his brow furrowed as if he was trying to figure something out.

  All this couldn’t be wishful thinking.

  “I, um…” I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. Completely trapped in his stare. “I should get to Elise.”

  He nodded slowly, and for the briefest moment, his eyes dropped to my mouth.

  Fuck me.

  Hope surged to life in a blaze of fire.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, his hands leaving my back, traveling unhurriedly to my hips. “Don’t be late today.”

  I was never late. “I won’t. I’m-I’m meeting up with my aunt for lunch at two. That’s all.”

  “All right.” He swallowed and nodded once, then released me—way before I was ready.

  There was something else I was ready for, though. Coming clean. I didn’t think I could wait until after the holiday rush at the restaurant.

  “Be hungry when you get home,” he ordered.

  Yes, Chef.

  * * *

  Elise Quinn had the cutest shop where everyone could feel like a princess. Black-and-white-checkered floors met pastel green walls, retro glass counters, and fresh flowers at the only two tables by the windows. And she had a similar shop right next door, similar theme, just with pink walls instead of green. Her eldest daughter, an adorable little girl, had picked the wall colors.

  “These are absolutely amazing, Elise.” I inspected the three open boxes on the counter, filled with truffles, cake pops, and bite-size cupcakes. They were the smallest I’d ever seen and so perfect for our dessert at Coho.

  “When you told me you were going to infuse them with alcohol, I took the liberty of preparing them for you.” She picked up one of the tiny cupcakes, and I’d already seen the little holes at the top. “I have a list with all the flavors and ingredients for you too. I’m not sure all of them will go well with liquids.”

  I nodded, prepared for that. It was why we’d ordered so many of them. Adam and I would experiment tonight.

  “Do you have time to sit down for a bit?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure.” She smiled happily and went over to the counter behind her. “Is it an espresso day or cappuccino day?”

  I grinned. “I won’t say no to a cappuccino. Or—unless you have bad news about your brother. Then I’ll need something much stronger.”

  Our families had a bit in common lately. Isla’s stepbrother had gone missing last winter, worrying all of us, and Elise’s big brother was the one who’d found him. And, okay, family was a strong word. I wasn’t part of Isla’s immediate family, no matter how close we were as friends, so I didn’t push for too many details, but I knew it was going to be a long recovery for everyone involved. Adam and I had almost stalked Jack for updates before we learned of the rescue.

  “I’m fresh out of bad news, thankfully.” Elise was as relieved as I was.

  “Good, I’m so glad to hear it. I bet your girls are thrilled to see their uncle again.”

  Elise let out a soft laugh. “Pretty sure Ave is more thrilled. He’s missed his workout partner.” That was Elise’s husband. She was so young, in her early twenties, and she had everything settled. The image of Adam flashed before my eyes in an instant, and more hope brimmed closer to the surface. I was a fool.

  Elise and I sat down at the window with our beverages, and we chitchatted about family, friends, my ideas for the newborn twins’ party, and work.

  I gave her a warning too, knowing she was easily overwhelmed, that once Adam and I had settled for four or five treats, we’d be ordering a lot of them.

  “Oh, that’s fine,” she assured. “In fact—” she stood up and darted behind the counter again “—I made something with Adam in mind. I’ll box up four of them for you. You can add them to your experiment. He’s always trying weird stuff, and I remember him saying he liked this flavor. Or scent, rather.”

  Adam liked everything in this shop. It was why he’d only come with me once or twice. He had a sweet tooth.

  Elise returned with a small box that revealed four dark chocolate truffles with purple glitter on them. “They have a lavender vanilla filling.”

  “Ooh, that’s exciting!” I loved lavender. Which made me wonder if Elise had made a mistake. I didn’t know Adam liked it, but it was one of my favorite scents.

  On the other hand, I’d never doubt Elise.

  “Have you decided what types of alcohol you’ll be using?” she wondered.

  “We’re thinking the treats will tell us,” I chuckled. “We have a list of what we suspect will go well, though.”

  It was going to be fun to sample everything tonight.

  * * *

  My last errand of the day was to have lunch with my dad’s older sister, with whom I’d lived as a teenager. She came up from Seattle every now and then to get away from the city noise, and she had a cabin up in Westslope, a northern district of Camassia, that she shared with three women from her bridge club.

  She knew entirely too much about me, and she’d sniffed out the truth before our food had arrived.

  Now I was on my way back to the restaurant with her “words of wisdom” going on a loop in my head.

  “What’s that thing your mother always says? Chi non risca, something. You’ve been in love with Adam since you were a child, dear. I understand it’s a big risk, considering his history, but it’s time to take the leap. You are everything to him.”

  Chi non risica, non risica.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  Let’s go venture everything, then.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Adam had left the restaurant. Griffin and the staff were preparing for tonight’s service, and I figured Adam was upstairs getting ready in our own little kitchen.

  “Hey, hon.” Griffin flashed me a quick grin, busy with prep. “You on tonight?”

  I shook my head and adjusted my grip on the pastry boxes so they rested on my hip. “Just saying hi. Adam and I are experimenting with the Valentine’s menu.”

  “Cool. I saw the post on Insta, and he’s been using the smoker in the back.” He gave me his cheek, and I dutifully hopped up and kissed it. “That’s better. Not to be a dick, but get outta my kitchen.” He winked.

  I laughed and stole a carrot stick. “Be nice to Tracy, okay?”

  He frowned. “He’s a punk.”

  I lifted a brow. “He’s a sweetheart. If you think he’s a punk, it’s probably because you’ve been a moody prick.”

  That was the moment Tracy came out of the kitchen. “Who’s a moody prick? Griffin?”

  Crap. I said nothing. I chewed on my carrot instead.

  Tracy’s mouth twitched. “Silence speaks.”

  “How about you respect the chef?” Griffin shot back.

  Oh boy. One jaded, rough-around-the-edges, grumpy man stared down a cocky, defensive swee
theart with a crush.

  A beat later, Tracy turned to me. “I miss Adam already.”

  I squeezed his hand. He had all my sympathy. “Okay, well…don’t burn down the restaurant. And Griffin, I have your mother’s number,” I said. “Don’t make me use it.”

  I left before things could escalate further, and I took the elevator to the third floor.

  Nerves fluttered inside me as I opened the door and was met by music and the smell of Adam’s cooking.

  “Shit.” I almost dropped the boxes in an attempt to remove my beanie. That would have to wait. Instead, I kicked off my boots and trailed into the kitchen. Adam sent me an indecent little smirk. Then again, everything about him was indecent.

  “Hi, Chef.” I set down the boxes on the kitchen island.

  “Hey, you.” He was baking something. He didn’t bake many different things, so I assumed it was buns for the burgers.

  “It smells amazing.” I shrugged out of my coat and stepped closer to the stove. “What’ve you been up to?” Three pots were on the stove, and something was in the oven.

  “Chef’s secret.” He was amused; I was the one who searched for presents around the house weeks before Christmas. “I’m gonna need another hour or so. You can…do whatever.”

  I snorted and trekked back to the hallway. “I guess I can take a shower and get the alcohol. By the way, why don’t I smell the brisket?”

  His low and slow brisket was possibly my favorite in the whole world.

  “It’s resting downstairs,” he replied. “You’re gonna love the bark.”

  I had no doubt. It was almost the best part of the brisket. And that got me thinking… “When did you get up this morning?” Because low and slow was slow. But oh so delicious. Totally worth waiting twelve hours for.

  Adam smirked lazily. “Around four?”

  “Jesus. I hope you got some rest.”

  He nodded and washed his hands at the sink. “Got a couple hours around noon. Now, get out of here.”