“Ah…the dark seed.” He bit his lip to contain more laughter, but not before Madison caught the movement.
She glared at him accusingly. “You think this is funny?” she spat.
Gently taking the hand holding the recipe card, he brought it to his chest. “Would my heartbeat feel like this if I were purely amused? Madison, I’m trying to keep on an evenkeel right now so I don’t freak you out or make you run out of the room.”
She shoved at him half-heartedly. “I’m not running anymore—I know how to weigh risk. Set ground rules. Although I am a little freaked out. Dammit, here goes.” Yanking back the recipe, she opened the folded halves. “Iwilldate you or be with you or whatever the hell you want to call it.”
He nearly pulled her off her barstool and crushed her to him. “You will?” he asked stupidly. “I thought persuading you to be with me would be like taking Normandy Beach or climbing Kilimanjaro.”
She licked her dry lips, devastating him. “Hang on. I’m not finished. It still might be like climbing a mountain. We don’t know how it’ll be between us, once we cross the line. It had better be freaking great, given how much we’re risking.”
He coughed out a laugh. “It will be.”
“You don’t know yet.” She waved the recipe in the air, looking a little crazed. “Hell, I don’t know yet. I haven’t had a long-term relationship since I was pretty much a starry-eyed kid, and look how that ended. It turned me into Fifth Course, the cheese plate. Even Nanine can’t put lipstick on this pig, as they say. I’m an acquired taste. I’m too strong and off-putting sometimes. You were with Tanning Bed Barbie. You might hate being with me.”
“Tanning Bed Barbie?” He couldn’t help laughing at her description of Paisley. “You’re right. But look howthatturned out! Me, breaking things off with my fiancée and then needing you to sweep in and kiss me to make that stalker go away.”
“I am never being a Good Samaritan again! That kiss changed everything.”
He caught her flailing hands. “I’m glad it did, but I have a feeling we would have ended up here anyway.”
She tried to yank her hands away. “Maybe. We’ll never know. Let my hands go. I’m trying to read my conditions.”
Caressing her hands briefly, he let them slide silkily from his. “Ah…I see where you’re going with this. Contracts are my specialty. All right, lay the clauses on me, but know I’ll have my own.”
She slapped her hand to her forehead. “There’s a shock. Now pay attention. I can make a copy so you’ll have a reference.”
His shoulders were shaking, which earned him another playful swat. “I have a good memory. Go.”
“First, whatever happens, we stay friends.” She glared at him. “I mean it! I’ll do my part, and I’ll believe you if you tell me you will too. If either of us decide this isn't working, we’ll shrug it off somehow and close that door forever. I am not losing you or our family or this business. And I’m not losing my shot at a Michelin star either. I can’t.”
Since he didn’t believe it was going to head that way, he could agree. “You have my word.”
“Good.” She blew out another huge breath. “Next up. Despite what Thea said, I’m most concerned about my cooking. If it worsens and hurts our chances at the star, I need to know right away. I want us to hire a former Michelin inspector who will eat at the restaurant without me or the staff’s knowledge at least twice a week to gauge how our relationship might be affecting my cooking.”
He could feel his jaw pop.
“Here’s why.” She stood, wringing her hands. “The Michelin inspectors come more than once to the restaurant before making their committee-like decision. If my skills slip—and I’m hoping it won’t be by much after all my years of working in a Michelin-starred restaurant in Miami—I’ll have time to pivot and rectify them for the remaining time leading up to the announcement mid-March.”
God, he couldn’t fault her plan. Or her logic. “What if you’re totally rocking a new level?”
“Then we keep dating.” Her golden eyes gleamed with worry. “Kyle, we’re taking a huge leap. This redundancy ensures I don’t mess up what we’ve all been working toward. I can’t let myself down. Or Nanine. Or our roommates. Or you. We’ve put blood, sweat, and tears into bringing Nanine’s restaurant back from the dead.”
His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at her. He finally let himself nod in agreement. “All right. I’ll hire the person and keep it from you and the staff somehow.”
“Good.” She swallowed thickly. “Next…you will not distract me during work hours. That means no coming around in all your smoldering wonderfulness, pumping your sexy scent into my kitchen.”
His ego liked that line. “My smoldering wonderfulness?—”
“Shut up. You know how you are.GQwill probably have you on speed dial at some point if you get any more successful.”
“Thank you. I plan to.”
“Of course you do,” she continued, “and you will. You’re a brilliant restaurateur. Now, as I was saying. You will not text me anything salacious or sext me in any way while I’m working.”
He shifted in his chair. Texting her something naughty had never occurred to him. Suddenly his whole world was opening up. “But after work is okay?”
“Probably.” She grabbed a pen and added a question mark beside what he imagined was that condition. “I don’t really touch my phone much. But if we do text, no eggplants or cucumbers or whatever vegetables and fruits people are using these days. I’m a chef, and I think that whole emoji world is moronic. You text me an eggplant, I’m thinking, slice it, salt it, and then blend it into something like baba ghanoush. Don’t get me started on cucumbers.”
