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That surprises me. Most women, when they’re announced as omegas, think it’s the greatest thing to ever happen to them. They know they’ll have alphas falling all over them, tripping over each other, trying to earn their affection. “You did make quite the grand entrance. I was watching from work.” My lips quirk into a smile, thinking about the leaf that fell from her hair. She gave society quite a shock.
Verity takes a right toward the main entrance, but I grab her hand and loop my fingers through hers before leading her toward the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“Uh yeah, always, but there’s no way the cook will let us get anything right now.”
“Mmm… I might have ways around that,” I respond with a wink.
Chapter 21
Verity
Kyle leads me down the corridor and waltzes straight into the kitchen like he owns the place. The older man and woman bustling around the stoves glance up in unison and smile at him. The woman opens her mouth to speak when a younger male hip checks a counter and lurches forward, dropping a plate. It clatters to the ground, making a god awful sound, pulling the focus to him.
Everyone pauses for a second, unsure of what to do when the older man, who I’m assuming is the lead chef, starts a slow clap. The others join in, including Kyle. All the while, the younger one’s cheeks are flaming. “Sorry, Dad. I’ll grab a broom.”
The older gentleman chuckles and shoos him away before turning to Kyle and me. He wipes his fingers on a rag fixed to the front of his apron before extending it toward us. Kyle shakes his hand first, and I repeat the motion. He grins. “A firm handshake. I like her already.”
I shoot Kyle a raised eyebrow, and he startles like he’s forgotten I have no idea who they are. “Verity, I’d like you to meet Chef Bob LeBlanc, his wife Sheila, and their team. They run the best catering business back home and our little community was so excited to see them get chosen to be on Heat Paradise.”
Sheila beams at us from her position behind one of the stoves, stirring something in a pot. “We are truly grateful to be here. Our business will surely boom now. Oh—” she exclaims as the liquid in the pot boils over. She quickly places a wooden spoon over the top to keep it from happening again. “Can’t look away for even a second, I swear. It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” Her soft voice is so motherly, it makes my chest ache with homesickness.
I nod my head at her and Bob. “And you as well.”
Bob’s gaze flicks to the cameraman, who has now caught up with us. “So, what can we help you with?” he asks, bending to open the oven. The delicious scent of chicken cordon bleu wafts to me and my mouth waters. He glances up at us, a confused tug to his brow. “Shouldn’t you two be off getting ready for the elimination? That’s tonight, right?”
Kyle squeezes my hand. “Actually, I’m taking Verity on a spur-of-the-moment date.” He leans in closer and stage-whispers, “Help me out, Bob. I’m shooting my shot here.”
His voice is barely loud enough for Sheila to hear, and she can’t contain her excited squeal. “Oooh, Bob! We need to skedaddle and let the kids have some one-on-one time.”
Bob seems unconvinced, but Sheila is having none of it. She flicks off the burner and removes the pot she was stirring from the heat before shooing their team out the door. “Use whatever you need,” she tells us before grabbing Bob’s arm. He casts a longing look at the oven. “The roasts will be fine. Kyle can take it out if the timer goes off before he’s done.” And with that, the chef relents, but not without patting Kyle on the back as they leave.
Other than the dull roar of the hood fan, it’s strangely quiet now. Every kitchen I’ve ever been in has been filled with noise and the relative silence makes me realize Kyle and I are alone. Minus the cameraman.
Oh, hell, is he waiting for me to take the initiative and start cooking something for our date? That’s something omegas are supposed to do, right?
Shit.
Like he senses my inner turmoil, he wraps an arm around me and kisses the side of my temple. The gesture is fairly intimate for two people who have just met, but strangely, I’m not mad at it. In fact, my stomach flutters with butterflies. “What are you in the mood for? We don’t have much time, but I’m sure I can whip something up fairly quick.”
I blow out a relieved breath. “Um, honestly, I’m in the mood for something sort of sweet, but not at the same time.” After getting a whiff of his caramelly goodness… ugh, my sweet tooth craving has kicked in to the max.
Kyle takes my weird request in stride and walks over to the pantry, his larger frame eating up the short distance easily. “Let’s see what we’re working with,” he says before pulling the door open. My eyes widen. There’s enough food stored in there to feed everyone on the show twice over for several months.
He eyes a loaf of bread. “Mmm, I think grilled cheese or a BLT is too cliché. Wait, you said something sweet,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. “How about pancakes? Quick, fluffy, and delicious. Not to mention covered in maple syrup. We can add some nuts to cut the sweetness.” And now I’m picturing Jedrik.
My mouth waters. “Sounds perfect. I haven’t had pancakes in forever.”
Kyle clutches his heart and lets out a playful gasp. He’s so adorable I almost miss what he says. “How? They’re a breakfast staple!”
“Well, the last time Ry and I attempted to make them, we almost caught the house on fire,” I admit with a chuckle. The memory is so vivid I can still picture the horrified expression on Ryland’s face as we scrambled to put the flames out. Suffice to say, we’re both terrible cooks. It’s something I’ve been working on changing, though.
The cameraman shifts so he can capture Kyle’s reaction to my casual story about Ryland. The slight movement reminds me we’re not alone and I shouldn’t be so callous since Ry and I are toeing a fine line. Kyle has one of those presences that consumes the entire room so I’d forgotten I need to be careful.
“Ahh, we’ve heard rumors about you having a male beta friend. I’m assuming it’s true?” Kyle prods as he grabs the ingredients and a pan. He leads us back to the cooking station to prep, but he keeps most of his attention on my answer. He doesn’t seem jealous per se, merely curious.
“It is. Ryland means everything to me,” I confess, keeping my voice low enough the camera can’t pick it up. I know I should be cautious because I like the direction Kyle and I are heading in, but I also need him to understand how special Ry is.
Suddenly, he grabs my hand and twirls me in, his lips brushing my ear. “I look forward to meeting him and learning more of your story.” His statement is barely a puff of air to avoid detection from our mics, but it makes my heart explode as he maneuvers us into a little dance. He actually wants to meet Ryland.
