Funny, right? How life can change on you like that.
CHAPTER 05: JESSIE
“Fire two steaks, medium,” Malia called from the pass. “I want sides walking with them—Tony, one sashimi, full set. Two miso noodle salads. One ahi tartare. Heard?”
“Yes, Chef!” The calls bounced back from the line.
Malia’s voice cut through it again. “Jay—medium rare on sixteen. You got it?”
“Yes, Chef,” I called back, flipping the steaks, brushing them with butter before sliding them to rest on the board. The heat was brutal tonight. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, eyes flicking over the tickets clipped to the rail before reaching into the lowboy for more cuts.
And then Danny’s smile popped into my head uninvited but very appealing. The memory of his mouth followed, and I caught myself grinning like an idiot.
“Ohhh, look at this guy,” Trevor sing-songed from sauté. “Someone’s in loooove.”
“Fuck off,” I muttered, but it was too late.
The kitchen pounced—elbows, laughter, a chorus of assholes sweating through their aprons and living for the distraction.
“Full board, guys, keep it tight,” Malia snapped without even looking up.
“Yes, Chef!” we answered in unison.
It didn’t stop them. Not the ones close enough to me, anyway.
Trevor was one flame away, already asking about wedding invitations. Rory had obviously been the one to spill—even if he’d been decent enough not to mention who it was. I tried my absolute best to stay dismissive, but fuck, that smile kept creeping back onto my face.
I hadn’t seen Danny around the resort yesterday, but when I woke up, there was a message waiting on my screen, and we’d spent the day texting back and forth. He was probably leaving soon. Just thinking about those texts made the hit a little easier to take.
I set fresh cuts on the grill, the sizzle roaring up around me, then turned to finish the two steaks heading out.
“Jay,” Malia called.
“Sixteen walking in one, Chef,” I said, eyes still on my board.
“Good—but that wasn’t it.” There was a slight lilt to her voice.
I glanced over my shoulder, my heart doing a small, stupid flip.
Danny stood at the pass, no longer a figment of my imagination, leaning just off to the side with that familiar grin aimed straight at me.
“Fuck me…” I muttered, knife still in my hand. “Thirty seconds,” I said to both of them.
I shot Trevor a look—his station was mostly clear. “Can you cover me? Just a minute.”
His grin turned feral as he nodded.
I pressed my lips together, plated fast, and slid the food onto the pass for Malia.
“Hey,” Danny said, lowering his voice. “Sorry—I know you’re busy.” He leaned his elbows on the counter, eyes flicking briefly toward Malia. “I just wanted to say goodbye. Again.” A small, self-conscious laugh followed.
I wiped my hands down as best I could and leaned over the counter too, hoping to give us some semblance of privacy while I felt the eyes of the entire kitchen burning into the back of my head. “Are you heading out now?”
“Yeah. Car’s waiting.” He gave me a sympathetic shrug. His eyes dropped to my lips for a second—long enough to make my stomach flip—before he shifted back a step. “I’ll let you know when I get there, though. If you want.”
“I want—tell me everything,” I said quickly.
Danny smiled, and I swear the whole space brightened. “I’ll tell you everything. Promise.” His hand drifted forward, and I didn’t hesitate, ourthumbs hooking as we pulled our hands together. “Is it weird that I miss you already?”
