Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Her gasp was quiet as she took it in, and her fingers traced over her name that was embroidered on the bag in between the clips for the shoulder strap.
“Oh, my god. You shouldn’t have.”
But the way she looked at it? It was clear she loved the gift.
I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck, trying to distract from my awkwardness. Yeah, I knew it was too much, but fuck it. I liked her reaction. And thank god it had shown up in time. Having it customized had added two days to the delivery, so I’d been relieved when it had arrived this afternoon.
“It’s no big deal.” I forced lightness into my tone. “If anything, it’s a self-serving gift. This makes it easier for you to come over and cook again.”
She drew in a breath, and for a moment, she looked like she didn’t know what to say. But then she straightened and pulled on a smile. “Thank you.”
I nodded and dropped my gaze to the counter, eager for her not to dwell on my statement. I’d told her this thing between us was just sex, and then like an idiot, I hadn’t followed my own damn rule. Hanging out and buying her gifts . . . what the hell was I thinking?
My biggest problem was I didn’t know if I wanted to have a fun date with her or take her downstairs and fuck her brains out.
You can do both.
But I shouldn’t. Every lesson with her deepened my betrayal to Colin. When I was with her, I had to pretend he didn’t exist. And when I was with him? I did the same thing.
It made me feel like shit, so I tried not to think about it.
Once she finished moving her knives into her new bag, I pulled the rest of the items from the plastic bags and laid them out for her. “What would you like me to do?”
She slipped her apron over her head and tied the strings behind her back. “Are you good in the kitchen?”
“No, I’m terrible. I’d say I do my best work in the bedroom.” I gave her a wide grin and a wink.
She snorted and shook her head. “If you’re a terrible cook, then the best thing you can do is stay out of my way.”
It was so much fun to see her like this. All business. Confident. “Yes, ma’am.”
I grabbed the wrapping paper and the rest of the trash, clearing it off the island so she had more room to work, and then sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and helped by telling her where to find things in the cabinets.
While she cleaned the shrimp, we talked about her job. She’d started waitressing at seventeen, and only a month later she’d been moved to the kitchen and done all the prep work.
Even though she worked her own station now, a lot of her experience came from watching the other chefs. The sous chef, Diego, had taken her under his wing and was a mentor, but the rest of the line was pirates, she said.
“How’s that?” I asked.
She’d finished with the shrimp, moved on, and considered my question while she poured chicken broth into a pot. “They’ve got foul mouths, hot tempers, and cutthroat attitudes.”
I peered at her dubiously. “And how’s that for you?”
She turned on the burner, not bothering to look at me. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s good for me. I had to learn to stand up for myself because no one else was going to.” Her voice lost a little of its confidence. “Still working on doing that outside of the kitchen.” She stepped away from the stove and glanced at me. “Cutting board?”
“The long cabinet next to the oven.”
She got what she needed and set the wooden board down on the counter across from me. “It sucks being the only woman there sometimes.”
She was young and beautiful, and the thought made ice slide down my spine. “Because they hit on you?”
She pulled out one of her knives and cut a shallot in half, then laid the flat side down and began to rapidly cut it into thin slices. “Most of the time, they don’t mean it. They’re just teasing me. But one of them, I’m pretty sure he was serious when he asked if I wanted to have a three-way with him and his girlfriend.”
I had to stay perfectly still to keep my emotions in check. The idea of Sydney with anyone else, male or female, triggered an unacceptable amount of jealousy in me. I could tell myself it was just because I was competitive, but I knew that was bullshit.
I did my best to sound casual. “What’d you tell him?”
Her knife slowed. “I told him no, of course. So, then he said it could be just the two of us, then. His girlfriend didn’t need to know. Which—gross.”