Susan laughed. “And when you remade my béchamel sauce because you thought it was too thick?”
“It was too thick,” Paul insisted, though his grin widened. “But I see your point. Perhaps I can be slightly... particular.”
Susan shook her head, still smiling. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“Talking about being particular,” Paul said, “how did the dress shopping go yesterday?”
Susan sighed as she remembered the fabulous day she’d had with Kathleen and Lynda. “We found Lynda the perfect dress. I can’t tell you about it, but she looked beautiful.”
“I bet she did.” Paul checked his timer. “How many dresses did she have to try on before she found the right one?”
“Only a few.” Susan picked up her coffee and wrapped her hands around the mug. “We had Isabel on video call from the bookstore the entire time. It was fun.”
“It sounds like it.” Paul smiled. “The crème brûlée needs another ten minutes. Want to sit down while we wait?”
They carried their coffee to the dining room and settled into the corner booth. Through the windows, Flathead Lake stretched toward the mountains, the afternoon light turning the water a deep indigo.
Susan thought about Lynda’s wedding, about the Christmas events Paul had booked, and the resort opportunity that was still just speculation.
“I’m glad you’re helping me with the BioTech events,” Paul said quietly. “Not just because I need the help, but because I enjoy working with you.”
Susan met his eyes. “I enjoy working with you too.”
The timer chimed from the kitchen, breaking the moment. They returned to finish Paul’s crème brûlées, and Susan watched as he carefully torched the sugar on top of each custard until it formed a perfect amber shell.
“These are definitely going on the menu,” Susan said after tasting the one he gave her. The cardamom added an exotic warmth that complemented the vanilla custard beautifully.
“And your torte is perfect.” Paul had tried a small slice after it had chilled. “Rich but not too sweet. The dark chocolate really shines through.”
They spent the next hour finalizing their testing schedule for the remaining menu items and sketching out preliminary plans for the BioTech events. By the time Susan packed up her equipment to leave, the winter sun was already setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
Paul helped her carry her containers to the car. The parking lot was empty except for their two vehicles, and the air had grown colder. Susan’s breath created small clouds in the frosty air as she arranged her supplies in her truck.
“Thank you again,” Paul said, standing closer than necessary. “For everything. For waiting when I was late, for agreeing to help with BioTech, and mostly for being someone I can count on.”
Susan closed the passenger door and turned to face him. “That’s what friends are for.”
But the word “friends” hung in the air between them, inadequate for what was developing. Paul’s expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered near her cheek, warm against her cold skin.
“Susan,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him, her heart racing. The setting sun cast golden light across his face, highlighting the silver in his hair and the warmth in his dark eyes. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them standing in the parking lot.
Paul’s hand moved from her cheek to gently cup her face. “I keep finding reasons to spend time with you,” he admitted. “And I don’t think it’s just about the menu anymore.”
“No,” Susan agreed softly. “I don’t think it is either. I like you, Paul.”
“I like you too, Susan.”
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to step away if she wanted. But Susan didn’t move. When his lips met hers, the kiss was gentle, tentative, and full of promise. When Paul’s other hand came up to cradle her face, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.
When they finally pulled apart, Paul rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he confessed.
“I’m glad you did.” Susan’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her hand found Paul’s. “What’s happening between us could be complicated, especially if we’re working together.”
“Probably,” Paul agreed.
Susan frowned. “We’ll both make mistakes.”
