She let it go, but couldn’t helpherself. “He’s so into you, Vera.”
I started laughing because honestlythat was hilarious. “He’s so intofood.And I think he’s really bored with his life.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he lives atLilou. Seriously, he works every single day. His lifeconsists of that square building and the troll bridge he sleeps under. I kindof feel bad for him.”
Molly fell quiet again, probablytrying to figure out the logistics of Killian’s life. She could join the club.In the time that I’d opened my food truck, he’d only been absent for dinnerservice a handful of times.
He started his morning early atLilouwith deliveries, of which he was always present for.Probably to ensure the food being delivered was up to his standards. Thensometimes he disappeared during the middle of the day, and sometimes he workedstraight through lunch. But even if he took a break, he was almost always backin time to prep for the night.
Not that I was stalking him oranything.
Besides, that was the price you paidfor running a kitchen likeLilou. That was the lifewe lived. We were all workaholics. Even chefs who didn’t work every singlenight, like me, couldn’t ever let it go. It didn’t end. We never let it end.
Just like I predicted, he showed upan hour later after my late-night rush. He walked right up to the window andsaid hi to Molly. I pretended not to notice him. I had chili to stir. And otherstuff.
Apparently, he couldn’t stand nothaving all the attention. “I didn’t realize you were getting your best ideasfrom concession stands.”
Donot engage. Do not engage. Do not engage.
I spun around, totallyengaging. “The chili dogs have been a huge hit, so…”
I had no willpower. I would havemade a terrible ninja.
“So, you’re catering to the massesnow? How revolutionary.”
Leaning forward, unable to restrainthe snarkybiotchhe brought out in me, I said, “Hey,the masses pay the bills. I’ll leave the food revolution to you. If only youcould combat climate change by taking away everyone’s table salt.”
His lips twitched, and I could havesworn he wanted to smile. But he didn’t. “It wasn’t overly salted tonight. I’mimpressed,Delane.”
“It’s never overly salty,” Ireturned. “You have an overly sensitive palate.”
He stared at me, those green eyesglittering with something he wanted to say, but for some reason, he held back.Which wasn’t fair. I wanted to know what it was. And I wanted to know why heheld back. And I wanted to know a hundred other things I shouldn’t want toknow.
Another minute passed before Irealized we were just standing there, staring at each other, locked in somekind of weird hate spell. People started walking up and standing in line behindhim, and we were simultaneously released from the enchantment.
“Did you come over here for anotherone of my underwhelming chili dogs? Or was there something else?”
His voice dropped low, sending atingle of something through my belly. A single butterfly leaped inside me,flapping unwelcomed wings and sending uninvited shivers down my stiff spine. Heran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “I just stopped byto see if you needed help. That’s all.”
My breath caught. He was so sweet atthat moment. Gentle. Reserved. Open.
Fear curled inside me, fueled by hisgesture of kindness and the way his hair fell in tousled waves. I wanted to runmy fingers through it like he had. And that terrified me.
I didn’t have time for him. Or thisunwanted attraction. I’d sworn off men. All men. Including, no wait,especially, arrogant, pigheaded, pushychefs like Killian Quinn.
“I’m good.” I cleared my throat andgestured at Foodie. “We’re good.”
He took a step back, withdrawingphysically and emotionally. Not that he was emotionally involved or anything.But it was like he closed back up behind shuttered eyes, closed up andretreated from our innocuous conversation. “Of course you are.”
“See you later, chef.”
He bobbed his head, seeming todecide something. “Lay off the salt,Delane.”
I watched him walk away, wonderinghow I could get us back to the place where I hated him. Nothing had changedtonight. Nothing significant or life-altering or obvious. And yet something hadchanged. Because I wanted to hate him, but I didn’t.
I wanted him to stay away.
