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“You must be Jessie?” he says with a wink.
I take his outstretched hand but I don’t speak. I stare at him open-mouthed and he laughs softly.
“And Mr. Ryan?” his eyes drift to Shane and I remember that my super-possessive and jealous husband is sitting opposite me. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Well, my wife loves your show,” he replies and I glance at him, looking for any signs that he is annoyed with me for fan-girling over a sexy chef, but his face is unreadable right now.
“You do?” Carl looks back to me.
“Yes. I watch it every week. Me and my husband make your banana waffles all the time.”
Carl glances back to Shane again. “Have you tried my passionfruit crepes yet?” he asks us both, understandably thinking that he is the husband I’m referring to and not one of my other three. Neither Shane nor I correct him.
“Not yet, we’re working our way through your Naughty but Nice book first,” I babble. “We want to make sure we try every one so we don’t miss anything.”
“Wow! Now there’s a blast from the past.” He laughs again. “I almost forgot about that book.”
I stare up at him, aware that I have a huge goofy smile on my face but I don’t care. Since he got mega-famous, some of his dishes and his cookbooks got a little too pretentious and fancy for my tastes. I much prefer his earlier stuff that was the kind of food most ordinary people could attempt to make. Now you need three dozen exotic ingredients to make one of his recipes. I have no doubt that they would taste just as amazing though.
“I love your old stuff,” I blurt out. “I used to watch your Cooking with Carl show all the time.”
He rubs a hand over his jaw as he stares at me, his brown eyes twinkling as he narrows them. “That was at least ten years ago. You really are a fan.”
“Yep. You’re like my hero,” I say and immediately regret those words. I didn’t mean like in any other way than making delicious desserts. Fuck!
He nods his head and puts a hand over his heart. “I’m honored.”
By now, some of the other diners have edged closer to our table, cell phones in hand, as they stand and wait for a chance to grab a selfie. He notices them and then rolls his eyes.
“Duty calls. I’ll just deal with this and then I’ll be back to discuss your options,” he says with a wink before he turns his megawatt smile back on and spins around to face his adoring crowd.
I turn back to Shane, wincing as I wonder how pissed he’s going to be.
He is staring at me but his face is still unreadable. “What the fuck?” he growls.
“I’m sorry. But he’s like…”
“Your hero?” He arches an eyebrow at me.
I close my eyes and suck on my lip. God, I really said that. I’m such an idiot.
“I only meant as like a dessert-hero,” I whisper.
“A dessert-hero?” he rests his chin on his hand as he continues to stare at me. “My mistake. I didn’t realize there was such a thing.”
I bite back a laugh. “You know how much I love dessert,” I whisper.
“Hmm. And I know why you used to love that show,” he says and I realize he’s not mad at all. When I was sixteen, I was kidnapped and held hostage by an assassin named the Wolf. I used to watch Carl’s show on morning cable TV because it was one of the few channels we had. I would pretend he was cooking just for me and answer his questions as though he was actually in the room. Back then he was warm and friendly – at least on TV. Now he sometimes comes across as an arrogant asshole, but he’s still a great chef.
“I didn’t mean to babble like a teenage girl,” I say as a blush creeps over my skin. “I promise I wasn’t flirting.”
“I know that, sweetheart,” he growls as he leans closer, placing his huge hand over mine. “Because if I thought you were, I would have bent you over this table, taken off my belt and your panties and spanked your ass right in front of him.”
“Shane!” I hiss even as wet heat pools in my center.
“Then I’d make you come on my fingers while he watched so that when you moan my name, he would know exactly who you belong to.”
I suck in a breath as heat creeps over my chest. “You’re a devil.”
