There was something about Vann that swept me away, that took over me completely. He was the first man I’d ever been willing to take a chance on. The first relationship that had demanded my attention, that compelled me to dive in deeper.
Vann was becoming so much more than I knew how to explain. He had saved me over and over. But now, he was saving me from something so much bigger than adulting.
He was saving my heart.
Twenty-One
“You’re sure you got this?”
Blaze laughed on the other end of the phone. I held it away from my face for a second and checked the number just to be sure I’d called the right person. I’d made Blaze laugh. Boom!
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he returned confidently. “You know, you’ve left me in charge before. I can make it through a night without burning anything down.” He paused and then added, “Or burning anything for that matter. I’m very proficient at not burning things in general.”
I rushed to assure him I had faith in him. “No, I know. I realize you’re good at what you do. It’s just, you know, your first time with the new menu and we have that new hire and—”
“Chef, seriously, we’re good! Have fun on your date.”
“Doctor’s appointment,” I clarified, but then couldn’t remember if I’d said doctor’s appointment or dentist appointment earlier.
“Mm-hmm.”
“What are you saying?”
“Hey, it’s cool. You’ve been working twenty-four-seven. If you need the night off, take the night off. You’re the boss.”
I was the boss. I was the boss of a kitchen that was starting to act like a kitchen. And it felt amazing. So when Vann had texted to see if I could get the night off and do the Taco Tuesday ride he did with his cyclist friends every week, I’d jumped at the chance.
“You’re a good guy,” I told Blaze, genuinely meaning it. “And a great sous chef. Thanks for covering for me.”
“Anytime,” he promised.
God, that felt so good. Sunday House was officially off the menu for him. He was fully committed to Bianca and me. This was loyalty. This was trust. And I was so grateful it went both ways.
I clicked off with Blaze and smiled at Vann. “Everything good?” he asked.
Stepping closer to him, I nodded my head and pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Everything’s good.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled, pulling me into a deeper, longer, more satisfactory kiss. We were tucked away in his office, making the most of our privacy—something we were getting really good at.
Since our first date by the lake, we’d seen each other as much as we could over the last month. But to be honest, between our opposite work schedules and individual busy days and nights, our offices had been our most consistent meeting place.
I would pop over to his shop for lunch during the week. And he would swing over to mine after hours while I worked on paperwork and closed Bianca. On Sundays, he would hang out for brunch. And now I was here, with him, waiting for the rest of his bike gang to show up so we could ride twenty miles for “the best tacos in the Carolinas.”
I doubted that, but I was willing to check it out.
Cycling still wasn’t my thing, but I had fun with Vann, and he promised me this trip involved beer. I just hoped he wouldn’t have to bust out his first aid skills on me a second time. Me, plus cycling and drinking beer all night, did not sound like the safest combination.
But I was willing to try anything once.
Okay, that was a lie. But I was willing to try at least some things as long as Vann was involved.
His hands dipped beneath my tight workout tank and squeezed my sides. I slid back on his desk and wrapped my legs around his waist. Our mouths moved against each other with increasing hunger.
I loved the scrape of his five o’clock shadow on my face tonight. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I arched my back and pressed more tightly against him.
He made another rumbly sound when I caught his bottom lip between my teeth at the same time I scraped my nails against the back of his neck. “You’re something else,” he murmured against my lips.
“You’re one to talk.”
