Mrs. Bin Laden?
I swallowed a laughsince it was obvious Kaya didn’t appreciate her nicknames. “Quite the hostilework environment you’re fostering, Wyatt.”
He grumbled morecurse words beneath his breath, but overall chose to ignore my comment. “Whatcan I help you with, Molls?”
I shrugged and tooka nervous sip of my champagne. “Just stopped by to see how you were doing. Iwas hoping you would be done by now and could come hang out with me.”
Wyatt reached up totug at his tall chef’s toque. “Wish I could, but I have to finish up desserts.I’ll be out as soon as we clean up.”
“So in like threehours?”
“Sorry.” Hefrowned. “You hired me to work. I’m still working.”
I didn’t reallyhire him. He volunteered. But I understood that he still had a job to do, and Ididn’t want to get in the way. “Find me later?”
His expressionsoftened and his eyes warmed, transforming his looks completely. Wyatt was atotal bad ass. At only thirty years old, he already commanded one of the bestkitchens in the state. He’d inheritedLiloufromKillian, taking over to fill giant shoes. But Wyatt hadn’t faltered for asecond. From what Vera had told me, Ezra was seriously impressed with how Wyattwas able to handle the kitchen, the menu, and the staff.
Wyatt wasn’t hardto look at either. He was tall and lean, his corded muscles like taut ropesagainst bone. High cheekbones, a square jaw, perfectly shaped ears, on top of arock-hard body, and kick ass kitchen skills? Yes, please.
Also, I only notedhis ears because his shaved head drew attention to them. I didn’t have like anear fetish or anything weird.
But what put Wyattat an entirely different level than most of the good-looking men I knew, washis bad boy attitude complete with facial piercings and tattoos. All thetattoos. From his wrists they snaked upward, over sinewy forearms and cutbiceps, ducking beneath his clothes and reappearing around his neck, all theway up to those strangely attractive ears. Wyatt was the kind of guy that madebutterflies leap, and dance, and dive—and panties melt right off your body.
The first time Imet Wyatt I thought for sure I was going to combust from sheer nerves. Becausehe wasn’t just pretty to look at, he was also one of the coolest people I’dever known.
Unfortunately forme, we’d gotten to be too good of friends. For like a hot second I thoughtthere would be something between us. But now he fit firmly in the friend zone.And I knew I was the same for him.
It was a bummer Iwould never get to know what it was like to make out with him, because I knew,I just knewWyatt would be the bestkisser ever. Instead, I had to settle for a good friend that I could actuallyrely on.
It was the worst.
Also, in case of aflat tire or if I ever needed help moving, it was the best.
He smiled at me andmy heart warmed with platonic affection. “Save me a dance?” he asked gently.
“Only if youpromise not to kill your sous chef,” I countered.
His eyes hardenedagain just thinking about Kaya. “We’ll see.”
I left the kitchenonly to run straight into a brick wall. Thankfully, I saved my champagne beforethe delicate flute smashed against Ezra Baptiste’s six pack of steel abs. Ilanded my free hand on his chest that seemed to be made out of the samesuper-human muscle metal.
I let my handlinger as I pretended I needed help balancing—okay, maybe I really needed help.Apparently I’d had more to drink than I realized. I looked up at his angryexpression and tried not to cringe. “Oops.”
He glanced over myshoulder. “Were you in my kitchen again?”
I shook my headquickly. “No?”
Ezra let out ahuffy sigh. “Molly.”
“Not all the wayin,” I amended. “More like on the fringes. Just the edge. The door barelyclosed behind me.”
His jaw ticked.“Why?”
I tilted my head tothe side, trying to make sense of his question. “Why what?”
“Why were you inthere,” he clarified. “What do you need?”
My stomach dippedat his question, like I’d been unexpectedly thrown in the front car of arollercoaster. “N-nothing,” I told him. “I was just looking for Wyatt.”
