“Yes.”
“Better. Now, I’ll follow you. Time to pick out your ingredients, and we can go back to Dulip and see what you’re made of.” A thrill courses through me. I can do this.
I wander through the market, finding everything I need to make a lasagna worthy of Ryder Stevens. If I were smarter, I probably would have steered clear of Italian food. He’s studied under some of Italy’s finest chefs.
“Did I just shoot myself in the foot by choosing Italian?”
“No.” He smiles. “I think it makes you ballsy. And that makes me predisposed to go easy on you.”
“That doesn’t help me. I want your honest opinion, no matter how harsh. It’ll make me a better chef.”
“And if my honest opinion is that your food is amazing?”
“Then, I’ll accept your praise gracefully.” Even the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. He scrubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw, grunting under his breath.
“We don’t have all day. Grab the rest of your ingredients and let’s go.”
I make short work of gathering what I need, but whenever I attempt to pay a vendor, Ryder steps in and tells them to ignore my proffered payment.
“I can pay for my own ingredients. I don’t know if you know this, but I earn pretty great tips at this upscale restaurant I work at.”
“Is that right?” he says with a playful grin. “I know you’re more than capable. I’ve driven you home, remember. You live in quite the zip code for a waitress, but I would never let a woman pay for something when I’m around.”
“This isn’t the 1800s. I’m perfectly capable of paying my way.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.” His eyes darken as he meets my gaze.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want to pay for stuff. I want to hold out a chair for a woman at a restaurant. And, I protect what’s mine.”
“What’s yours? Are the women you date just objects to be owned?” What the hell did I just say? He’s my boss. I have no business chastising him for archaic behavior, and I’m not prepared for what he says next.
“I’m not a guy who dates.” I’m dumbstruck. It’s a crime against humanity that someone as handsome as Ryder Stevens doesn’t date.
“What? Are you celibate or something?” Why can’t I curtail my brain-to-mouth filter today?
A sexy-as-hell grin creeps at the corners of his gorgeous lips as he tilts his head, considering what he’s going to say next. “Not even close. I said I don’t date. I didn’t say I don’t fuck.”
I feel my cheeks flush at the thought of him fucking, the rise and fall of my chest betraying my attempt at nonchalance. “Oh.”
“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.” I tuck a loose curl behind my ear—a nervous tick that would give me away to anyone who knows me.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t.” I’ve messed this up before I’ve even started. “We’re wasting time. Let’s get out of here.”
I keep my mouth shut as we make our way to Dulip, my nerves getting the better of me. I’m lost in my own thoughts as we walk through the restaurant that I know as well as my own apartment, and yet it suddenly feels completely foreign to me.
“Time to show me what you can do,” he says as he flips the lights on in the kitchen. Every surface is sparkling, ready for the night ahead. This is the calm before the storm, and butterflies take flight in the pit of my stomach when Chef Stevens hands me chef’s whites. Holy shit! I feel like I’m playing dress-up. “If you’re going to cook in my kitchen, you’re going to look the part. This should fit.”
I reach out, trepidation in every move. My hand brushes his as I take it from him, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I’m freaking out inside, my entire body vibrating, every meal I’ve ever cooked leading up to this moment.
“Breathe, Aspen. It’s daunting, but you’re no use to me if you pass out.” I’m frozen to the spot. This is the worst possible timeto choke.Say something. Say anything.“Do as you’re fucking told, Aspen. Breathe.”
I snap back to the room, gasping for air. “I just need a minute to get changed.” I scurry off to the locker room to put on my whites and compose myself. I’m overwhelmed with embarrassment as I pull off my top and change into the whites I haven’t earned and don’t deserve.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I splash some water on my face.
