He turned around with a spoon in onehand, the other making a cup underneath. “For you to try this.”
He all but shoved the spoon in mymouth. I closed my lips around it because there was no other choice.
It was too hot, but I still had tostifle a groan. He’d taken my good sauce and made it a masterpiece. He’dtransformed my modest recipe from necessary to essential, from dead to alive,from anonymous to five-star-worthy. I stepped back, keeping hold of the spoon.His eyes followed me, waiting, expecting. “It’s too similar to the tzatziki,” Itold him.
“That’s the point,” he explained.“Only use the gravy. Save the tzatziki for the fries. You’ll separate theflavor profiles and make it more interesting.”
I clenched my teeth so hard, my jawticked. He was a pushy, intrusive asshole. And completely right.Damn him. I shoved my way between himand the stove, grabbing for the red pepper flakes, just to make a point thatthis was still my kitchen.
“You went a little light.”
He peered over my shoulder, his chestpressing momentarily against my back. His deep voice rumbled in my ear.“Careful, chef.”
I shivered. I couldn’t help it. Hemade the relentless summer day feel frigid compared to his body heat. Hisbreath danced along my earlobe and despite the savory sauce filling the kitchenwith Mediterranean scents and tangible defeat, all I could smell was him.
The whisk in my hand trembled once,twice. I leaned back into him, unable to resist exploring what it would feellike to be pressed against his hard chest, how he would make me feel againsthis body.
I had to know.
He leaned closer, and my shoulderssettled against him, his hand landing on my hip with the lightest touch. Aripple of uncertainty vibrated through me. I should pull away. I shouldn’t havegotten this close to begin with.
I started to step to the side, andKillian’s fingers dug into my hip, holding me in place, taking the decisionaway from me. His touch was light only seconds before, but now it was strong,familiar, possessive. He was used to getting his way, and I’d suddenly stoppedcoming up with reasons why I shouldn’t let him have it.
“Sorry, I’m late, Vera!” My dad’svoice boomed inside the truck and Killian and I jumped apart like we’d beencaught cooking completely naked.
Dad ambled inside, catching Killianand I avoiding each other’s eyes and shuffling to opposite sides of the smallspace. “Oh, sorry,” Dad murmured. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
“I don’t!” I rushed to explain,knowing my eyes were wild with guilt. The reality of how easy it had been tolet myself touch Killian crashed down on me carrying the burden of my abandoneddreams and failed relationship. “I mean, he’s not company. Or a friend. Orreally, anything.” Dad and Killian shared similar expressions of confusion.Translation: I was acting like a lunatic. “What I mean is he was helping me,but now he’s leaving. Killian runs the kitchen across the street. He was just,uh, giving me his opinion on my sauce for tonight.”
Killian thrust out his hand for mydad to shake. “Killian Quinn. Like Vera said, I runLiloujust over there.”
My dad followed Killian’s pointerfinger before taking his hand. “HankDelane. Vera’ssaid nice things about that restaurant. She’s the only expert I know, but shealways knows what she’s talking about. You must be proud.”
“Very, sir.” He half turned around,staring at the sauce I stirred absently. “I’ll see you later, Vera. Good lucktonight.”
Not wanting to seem rude in front ofmy dad, I mumbled, “You too.”
Killian left quickly, taking all hisweird energy with him. I let out a shaky breath and glared at the gravy.
“He seemed nice,” Dad said. “Youmade him out to be such a superstar. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
I snorted and felt a tingle ofrelief as I remembered how I really felt. “He’s not usually so welcoming. Youbrought out the decent human in him. Most of the time he’s obnoxiouslycombative.”
My dad snickered, taking a seat atthe tall stool I’d bought for Vann and Molly when they helped me out. Neitherof them could be here tonight, so my dad offered to take money instead- eventhough I was positive he didn’t fully understand what that entailed. I feltbeyond guilty asking him to stay up hours past his bedtime, but he insisted. Iloved him more for it, plus I needed him to look at my cooler and work hismechanical magic. “I don’t think I’m the reason he was over herehelping you with your sauce.”
My face flushed tomato red. “Oh, mygosh, Dad!”
“Well, baby girl, honestly.”
I stared harder at Killian’screation—I couldn’t even call it mine anymore. “Are you sure you’re up for thistonight? I hate risking your health.”
He waved me off with his meaty hand.“Vera May, there is no place I’d rather be than right here with you. If I haveto go, at least let me spend my last days with the people I love most doing thethings they love most.”
Hot tears pricked my eyes, but Irefused to let them fall, not yet. “Dad, you’re not going anywhere, so stoptalking like that. Besides, I’m going to teach you how to use a fancy phone andthen you’ll realize how much you have to live for.”
He grunted and said something thatsounded suspiciously like, “Jesus, take me now.” I finally lifted my face tosmile at him. “You can do it, Pops. I believe in you.”
“Alright,” he finally grumbled.“Show me how to work thehoozywhatsit.”
