Alex slips past him just long enough to steal a strip of cheese.
“That’s garnish,” I say.
“Consider me decorative.”
“Nah, baby boy, you’re the centerpiece.” Alex grins, and Jaxon ushers him out.
“Wow,” I say to the swinging door. I don’t know whether I should clap because Jaxon got game or shudder at the sweetness overload.
I turn back to check on the rice, which is almost done.
The door barely moves this time, but I know it’s him. All the oxygen is sucked out of the kitchen. I have half a mind to check the burner.
“Careful, Chef. It smells like you’re trying to get in my pants.”
I keep stirring the sauce. “Bold of you to assume I’m not already taken.”
“Mm. Tragic. Is he hot?”
“Infuriatingly.”
Dom drifts closer, lifts the towel on the tortillas, and breathes in. He steals a corner, pops it in his mouth, and hums.
I try not to grin, and fail. “Hands off the merchandise.”
“Your tortillas or my boyfriend?” He’s in my space now, warm and smug.
“Both,” I say, but I tip my chin so he can kiss me anyway. “Wait, did you just call me… We’re…”
“Boyfriends,” he finishes with a slow nod. “If that’s okay with you.”
I swallow thickly. “Yeah. I’m okay with that. I just assumed you didn’t do…”
He leans in and gives me a peck on the lips and then just lifts his shoulder like it’s no big deal. “I guess not.” Dom carries on like life didn’t just spin on its axis and bumps my hip with his. “Need help, Chef?”
“You mean, ‘will I forgive my boyfriend for hovering and flirting while I plate?’” I say, testing the word out on my tongue.
“Tomayto, tomahto.” He snags a spoon. “Feed me something before I start declaring my undying love to the cornbread.”
I dip his spoon in the Mexican rice, tap it on the pot’s rim, and hold it up. He tastes, eyes closing. “Holy shit, Beckett. That’s so fucking good.” His eyes soften. “You look good like this.”
“Like what?”
“In your element.” He nudges my stained apron. “And in this ridiculous good-luck rag.”
“Don’t disrespect the apron,” I say. “It’s seen things.”
“Has it seen me doing this?” He hooks two fingers in the waistband and tugs me closer. My laugh gets lost in his mouth for another quick kiss.
“Boundaries,” I say, breathless. “My boss could come in.”
“Spencer would just run and tell everyone we’re kissing. Remember Alex and Jaxon?” I snort a laugh.
The timer goes off for the oven. I pull the cornbread off the top rack. The batter went in the color of sunshine, and now it’spuffing, edges browning, making the room fill with the smell of roasted corn. Perfect. Next are the enchiladas, and I smile at how well they turned out.
“Will you tell everyone dinner is ready?”
“Yes, sir,” he says, and I huff out a laugh.
