Page 3 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

The door closed behind them with a satisfying thud. When I turned back to the dining room, the entire restaurant was watching me. Then someone started clapping. Then another. Soon the whole place was giving me a standing ovation.

I ran my hand through my hair, smoothing it back down. It was time to get back into chef mode. I headed toward the kitchen. A redhead in a black dress, that appeared to be at least one size too small for the very enhanced tits spilling over the top, stepped in front of me.

“That was incredible,” she purred. “I’m Vivian.” She slipped a napkin into my hand, her fingers lingering against my palm. “Call me. I’d love to show you my appreciation for how you handled those boys.”

She was beautiful, no question. Her cleavage was so milky white it practically glowed surrounded by all the darkness inside Hallow. Her green eyes held the promise that she knew what she wanted, and what’s more, she knew what to do with her prize once she claimed it.

“Thanks,” I said, pocketing the napkin.

She smiled, clearly expecting more of a reaction. When I didn’t elaborate, she touched my arm. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

I watched her walk back to her table, her hips swaying deliberately. Under different circumstances, maybe. But I had the Feed America Thanksgiving Tour consuming every spare minute I had, media obligations breathing down my neck, and a kitchen full of orders backing up while I dealt with social media parasites.

I pushed open the door into the kitchen and dropped the napkin in the nearest waste basket without looking back.

I didn’t have time for distractions, no matter how perfectly they filled out a black dress. And even if I did, I was just as particular about the women I spent time with as I was about every plate that left my kitchen. Perfection wasn’t negotiable in any aspect of my life.

The familiar heat and harsh overhead lighting welcomed me back. This was where I belonged. Where everything made sense.

“Chef!” Conroy called out. “How’d it go?”

“Took out the trash,” I said, tying my apron back on. “Now let’s cook some damn fine food.”