Hiswords made zero sense to me. I blinked at him and tried to put them in theright order. Was he having a stroke? “What?”
“Listen,you’re better than that. You deserve more than club rats.”
Myheart kicked in my chest and I struggled to catch my breath. Was that acompliment? But I didn’t know what to say. Or why he was giving me datingadvice. I should have said thank you and walked back inside. That’s what Ishould have done. But like all the times before with Wyatt, for whatever stupidreason, I ended up blurting the truth. “I, uh, she’s not setting me up withanyone.”
Hiseyes narrowed. “I thought I heard you ask her to.”
BelatedlyI remembered that I had asked her to hook me up not that long ago. Crap. Buthad I even been serious? I didn’t have the time or energy for blind dates andmeaningless hookups. Honestly, a night out with one of Dillon’s friends soundedexhausting. Best to move this along. “You must have misheard. Uh, what did youwant to talk to me about?”
He remainedsilent long enough that I wondered if he forgot what he’d wanted to talk to meabout. Finally, he said, “There’s a chance that Rebecca Jones will stop bytonight.”
“Whoa.”Rebecca Jones was a food critic in Durham. Lilou had been reviewed by plenty ofnotable critics while Killian was here and considering the magazines andprofessionals and acclaimed critics that had reviewed before, Rebecca Joneswasn’t that big of a deal. But for Wyatt, she was the most notable critic to dineat Lilou under his new regime.
Thiswas a good sign for him. People wanted to check him out, see if he had thechops it took to handle Lilou.
Heshrugged. “It’s not for sure. But just in case, I, uh, I need you to be extraon top of things tonight.”
Noticingthe redness to his eyes and the several days of stubble covering his face, itwas easy to see that he still wasn’t sleeping. Unable to help myself, I leanedforward and brushed my thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned into my touch, hiseyes fluttering closed.
Ihad the strongest urge to kiss his closed eyelid. My heart squeezed with theneed to soothe some of his exhaustion, the burden stress and perfection haddropped on his shoulders. He was too calm like this, too sweet. This wasn’t thedictator I’d come to resent in the kitchen, this was a softer, more insecureversion of him. A version that made me all squishy inside and prone to make baddecisions.
WhenI realized what I was doing, I dropped my hand. His eyes opened, and my heartkicked again at how tired he looked. Maybe that was what the kiss was aboutearlier—sleep deprivation.
“Areyou still not sleeping?” I asked gently.
Heshook his head. “I think I’m still acclimating.”
“Youmust be doing something right. Rebecca Jones is coming tonight. The city ofDurham will soon know you can handle the shit out of this kitchen.”
Ihad been hoping for a smile and I got one. “Yeah, or the opposite.”
Rollingmy eyes, I moved to walk past him. “Don’t worry, I’ll babysit you tonight sothat doesn’t happen.”
Hisarm shot out, wrapping around the front of me. “Thank you,” he murmured near myear.
Weheard the smokers returning at the same time. His arm dropped immediately, andI ducked inside before anyone caught us talking innocently and not at allsuspiciously outside.
Ilooked for a surface to bang my forehead against until my rapidly beating heartand rushing blood returned to normal but settled on prep work and hours ofchopping instead.
Getyour shit together, Kaya. Or you’re going to end up as red-eyed and glitchy asWyatt.
AndI did not have time for that right now.
Ihad an executive chef to babysit and a different restaurant to take over.
Itwas hard to focus after all that had happened between us today. By the time Igot home after a grueling fifteen-hour shift and a successful night ofimpressing Rebecca Jones—or at least I hoped we had— I wasn’t even surprised tofind a text message from Wyatt. I might have even been expecting one.
Thanks for taking care of metonight.
Ismiled at the typed words, imagining that they were said with no small amountof reluctance.Are you embarrassed byhow much you need me?I asked him.
Not even a little bit, he’d typed back immediately.Pretty sure I’ve needed you for a longtime.
Thedemonic seductress inside me couldn’t help herself.You’ve never said anything before…
I’ve never had an opportunitybefore.
Inibbled on my lip ring and tried to decide if he was still talking about food. Don’t let this go to your head, chef, butI might need you too.
