“Knox and I were talking, and we think we can handle work without having to hire a new employee,” Eli says.
“So, it’s just me?” I ask.
“Just you, sweetheart.”
I don’t know why it feels like being chosen by them, but I know it feels good.
The kitchen feels a lot more comfortable today. The nightmares of last night, the anxiety about the money, the memory of Luke’s voice—it all feels distant, muted by the reality of this busy, warm kitchen.
We fall into the rhythm. Knox leads, Fallon preps, Eli bakes. I float between stations, grabbing plates, wiping counters, fetching ingredients.
It works. We work.
By the time the last order goes out, my feet are throbbing but my spirits are high.
“We’re done,” Knox announces, wiping down his station. “Clean down the grill, Fallon. I’ll be doing the rest of the cleanup tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you going?” Fallon asks.
“I want to hit the gym.” Knox grabs his coat. “Amber, good work today. You’re getting faster.”
“Thanks, Knox.”
He leaves, and the energy in the room shifts from professional to something more intimate.
Fallon stretches his arms. “I’m cleaning this and heading straight to bed. Don’t worry, guys, you can leave. I’ll lock up.”
Eli walks over to me, wiping flour from his hands on a towel. “I have a bottle of Bordeaux with our name on it, if you want to share a glass before you head home.”
I check the time on the wall clock. It’s late, but not too late. Jude will have Maisie settled. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
We grab the bottle and two glasses, heading out to the parking lot where my sedan is parked. I unlock it, and we slide into the front seat.
It’s a tight fit. I pour the wine, the rich red liquid sloshing into the glasses. The heater is cranked, warming up the small space quickly.
Eli takes a sip, swirling the dark liquid. “This is good. It’s got notes of blackberry and cedar. It’ll warm you up.”
I take a sip, letting it sit on my tongue. It’s smooth and velvety. “It’s perfect.”
I stare out the windshield at the darkening street. I have to ask. The curiosity is eating me alive.
“Eli?”
“Hmm?” He turns to me, his eyes soft behind his glasses.
“Is it weird? Knowing I was with Fallon today?”
He sets his glass down in the cupholder. He looks surprised, then his expression shifts into something hungry. He reaches out, hooking an arm around my waist, and lifts me easily.
“Whoa,” I gasp, finding myself straddling his lap in the driver’s seat. The steering wheel digs into my back, but I don’t care.
“Weird?” He shakes his head slowly, his hands resting on my hips. “No. Amber, I can smell him on you.”
My face heats up. “You can?”
“Yeah. It’s this intoxicating combo. You smell like sugar and flowers, but there’s this edge of salt air and leather. Fallon’s scent.”
He leans in, nuzzling my neck and inhaling deeply.
