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“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, just that, after last night…”
“What about after last night?”
“You know, if you have any regrets, if I’ve upset you…”
She put down the box of wine glasses she’d just packed up and looked at me. She spoke slowly and clearly. “I don’t have any regrets. You didn’t upset me.”
“Good, because—”
“There is no because!” She lifted her chin, looking me square in the eye for the first time all morning. “Let’s just go back to you annoying the ever-living fuck out of me and thinking it’s funny.”
“Fine… If that’s what you want…”
“It is.” She wiped her hand on her jeans and held it out. “No regrets, nothing’s changed between us, you’re a pain in the ass, the end.”
I took her hand, feeling a tingle race up my arm at her touch. Maybe she felt it too, because she stared at our joined hands for a moment before hastily pulling away, that adorable frown back between her brows. I wanted to say something more, to tease her, push her buttons, get that reaction that always amused me, but her parents chose that moment to arrive, so I let it go.
CHAPTER6
Ally
The hardest part of all this was not being able to talk to anyone about it. I sighed, piping profiterole mix onto a tray, wishing Zara was available. But she and Matt were away on their honeymoon, somewhere down the coast at a romantic beach retreat. Having lots of amazing sex, I’m sure, and I was categoricallynotgoing to disturb her. My hand faltered on the piping bag, spurting more mixture onto the tray than I intended, and I swore, making my cousin, who was also the sous chef, give me a surprised look. Poor Seth. He’d been keeping his distance from me all night, as much as he could in the tiny kitchen of my parents’ restaurant. I let him think I was cranky because Mom was out with a cold, which meant I was hauling double duty, managing the front of house and piping these stupid fucking profiteroles at the same time – which, by the way, were the second batch because I’d forgotten to keep an eye on the first one and they’d burned. I was supposedly a highly qualified chef, but right now I felt like a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush.
Cleaning up the mess, I started the piping process over again, my thoughts instantly turning again in that repetitive circle that was really,reallystarting to piss me off. It really would be best to talk it over with someone, clear my head and move on. Get Gabe Walker out of my fucking mind before I lost it. It didn’t matter how much I promised myself I wasn’t going to think about him, remember that night, get all turned on by the memories, it was no good. And that fact made me furious. Not to mention constantly horny.
“Fuck. Fuck.Fuck!”
Seth said something, but I wasn’t listening. Because the subject of my wrath had just walked into the restaurant, scanning the room until he saw me in the kitchen, staring at him through the open pass that separated the front and back of house. One side of his mouth turned up in that crooked grin that always made my knees go to jelly and I hastily looked away before I made the cataclysmic mistake of smiling back. What the fuck was he even doing here?
“Gabriele!” My dad bustled over, a wide grin on his face, and pulled Gabe into a back-slapping hug before moving back and kissing him on both cheeks. I never got the memo that my dear Papa had joined the Gabe Walker Fan Club and I have to say, that made me salty as fuck. It was bad enough that he’d dropped by my workplace unannounced. But he’d actually come to see my dad, not me? Rude.
I watched as Dad threw his arm over Gabe’s shoulder and escorted him to a table for two near the window. A gut-curdling thought hit me. He…he wasn’t bringing a date here, was he? I felt my face turn into a thundercloud. Why, for the love of all that’s good and holy, would I give two flying fucks if Gabe went on a date? I didn’t give a single one, of course I didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less. I couldn’t!Yeah, keep telling yourself that, loser.
I stood in the kitchen, piping bag in hand, staring at him, willing him to look at me, growing even more incensed when he didn’t. My dad moved away to talk to guests at another table, shooting me a glance and tilting his head in Gabe’s direction. What? Oh, right. I was front of house tonight too, which meant I had to take Gabe his menu, run through the specials and present him with the wine list. Fan-fucking-tastic!
Huffing out a breath, I quickly finished the profiteroles, placed them carefully in the oven and asked Seth to keep an eye on them for me. The last thing I needed was to have to redo them yet again. I tore off my chef’s hat and apron, hanging them up in my locker at the back of the kitchen. There was a foggy mirror on the inside of the door and I took a quick moment to check out my reflection. An errant curl had come out of my tight bun and because it looked kinda cute, I left it as it was, for some reason. It wasnotlike I cared what Gabe thought of my hair.Your hair is amazing.Another huff.
I barely restrained myself from stomping over to the servers’ station to collect a menu, wine list and water pitcher. Gabe leaned back in his chair, one hand on the table and the other in his trouser pocket, looking out the window at the river as I approached the table. Did he have to go ahead and look like a model from some hot aftershave ad? Asshole. He was totally doing it on purpose. “Here’s your menu. The soup of the day is mushroom and garlic, and the special isSaltinbocco alla Romano,which is veal with spinach and cheese in a red sauce. For dessert, we have profiteroles. I’m sure you know what they are.”
“Thanks.” He pulled a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on before taking the menu from me.
Fuck. The glasses. Why did I always forget he wore them? How could I forget, when he looked so undeniably gorgeous in them?
“Are you okay?”
“AmIokay?”
“Yes, you.”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason, but you’re looking at me like I’ve just sprouted horns.”
I forced the glare off my face and smiled, ignoring how stiff and unnatural it felt. “Will your dinner companion be arriving soon?”
“Ah, not sure.”
