6
LEO
Yes,chef.
I’d heard those words countless times in my career. Never in my fucking life had they stirred such a reaction as when Eliza said them in her sexy, sultry voice.
I needed to get a fucking grip.
The tastings with the staff this week had gone well, and everyone seemed to enjoy the food. That feeling of people loving my food and being eager for more never got tiring. In fact, it made me realize how much I missed it. There were many differences between fine dining and a local bar and grill, but one of the big ones was how people acted while they were there. It wasn’t that people at a fine dining restaurant didn’t enjoy the food, but in my experience, they were less likely to show their unfiltered emotion. The dinner was more of an event or an experience where appearances mattered.
I’d just finished talking to Wes about the final details for the spring menu launching tonight. Ray didn’t get in for another hour, so I figured I’d get started on prep work.
When I got to the kitchen, I hadn’t expected Eliza to be at the counter, two boxes of lemons and limes next to her. She wascutting the citrus fruits into wedges and then tossing them into their respective containers.
Well, cutting was the closest word to describe what she was doing, which was incredibly painful to watch. Before she had a chance to cut her fingers off, I grabbed one of my knives, a cutting board, and a lemon. Against my better judgment, I set up next to her.
“Oh, you don’t have to help me.”
I huffed a laugh. “Trust me, I do.”
She stopped, turning toward me and popping her hip. “I can cut some lemons and limes.”
“I thought you were going to chop a finger off with how you were mauling that lemon.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry I don’t have fancy chopping technique with skilled fingers and big tattooed hands.” She gestured toward my hands with her knife.
“Easy, Trouble,” I murmured with a chuckle, reaching for her knife. I gently unwrapped her fingers and slipped it from her, setting it on the counter.
She, surprisingly, didn’t protest, and instead said, “Yes, chef.”
There were those two damn words again.
Eliza leaned against the counter, watching as I worked.
“You been looking at mybig tattooed hands?” I asked, a smirk tugging at my mouth.
“No,” she scoffed. “And did I say big? I meant average.”
I barked a laugh. “Oh, baby, there’s nothing average about me.” The words slipped out before I had a chance to stop them.
Eliza’s lips parted, amusement with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
My cock twitched as I thought about what she’d look like sprawled on my bed?—
What did I not understand about not crossing the line? Here I was inching closer and closer.
“How do you make it look so easy?” she asked, thankfully snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Here, I can show you,” I offered, gesturing for her to pick up the knife while I set mine down.
“First, you’ll want to use what’s called a pinch grip on the knife,” I instructed once she had it in her hand. “May I?” I asked, my fingers reaching for her hand to show her how to hold it.
Eliza looked up at me with those deep-brown eyes and then flicked her gaze to my hand. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. “Of course, chef. You’re the boss here.”
I couldn’t tell if Eliza knew what she was doing or the effect she had on me. Frankly, I had no idea the effect she had on me, either. All I knew was that my fingers itched to touch her, and I was suddenly aware of my heart pounding in my chest.
I stepped behind her, leaving an inch of space between us. I set one hand over hers, guiding her to hold the knife with the proper grip to ensure control and prevent the knife from wobbling. Her thumb was on one side of the blade with her pointer finger bent on the opposite side. Her other three fingers held the handle.
