BURN (The HEAT Series Book 1) (8 page)

"You were right." I lick my fingers. "I didn't season it well enough. It tastes so much better like this."

"Right?" Tyler grabs my hand and pulls my fingers between his lips. "You had the foundation. You just needed to add to it."

I look down at the remnants of the halibut dish we worked on together in my kitchen. Initially we thought we'd prepare it at work but the cleaning crew had booked an early arrival. They showed up moments after Nova closed for the night so Tyler had loaded all the ingredients into a cooler to bring them to my place.

"I'm tempted to put this on the menu as a lunch special." He traces my eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. "Would you be up for that?"

It's an honor that touches me deeply. Maybe more so than the kiss he pulled me into when we first got to my place. I know he wants to make love. I want that too. I don't want to rush what's happening between us though. It needs to be organic, the pace determined by the two of us together.

"What do you think?" I joke as I run my hands over his back, under the black polo he's wearing. "What day will you do that?"

"Saturday is our busiest lunch day." He cups my chin in his hand. "Let's do it on Saturday."

I lean in to kiss his mouth. "You're not doing this because of Maribel, are you?"

He moves his lips across my cheek until he traces the shell of my earlobe with the tip of his tongue. "I'm doing this because this dish is now perfect and you earned it."

I pull back to look into his eyes. I haven't mentioned what Maribel said to me yesterday. If the woman she talked about is important to Tyler, he'll tell me when he's ready.

I have a past with Brendon. It's not unthinkable that Tyler would have a past with someone who worked closely with him. She's not at Nova anymore. I am. That's what I want to focus on.

"When is your roommate coming home?"

"Not before you fuck me," I say shamelessly.

His hand moves to the nape of my neck, the other settling on my hip. "It might take all night for me to fuck you properly. I haven't had a taste in almost a week."

"What are you waiting for?" I grip the collar of his shirt in my hands as I pull him into a deep, and mind numbing kiss.

***

"Your cock may be your best feature." I run my tongue over the length again, pulling the head back into my mouth before I pop it out. "I'm a little crazy over this."

"You can be as crazy as you want," he moans loudly. "If you suck me like that again, I don't care if you're certifiable."

I stare at it, the length is impressive, the girth more so. It's pink, rosy, and right now, pulsating in my hands. I lick it again, slowly, tentatively as I inch my hand up and down, sliding lazily along the shaft.

"If you keep that up, I'll blow my load all over you."

"You're not going to hear me complain about that," I purr as I fist him, hard and fast strokes, again and again.

I drop my mouth over the plush head, taking as much of him as I can down my throat. I resist the urge to gag, holding steady as his hands get lost in my hair. He's pulling, directing, trying to control my desire.

I wave his hands away with a swat of mine before I lower my mouth over him completely.

"Christ," he growls, yanking on my shoulders. "I need to fuck you now, Cadence. Now."

His voice is loud, the tone thick with want and need. I pull myself from him and in an instant he's moved. The drawer opens. The condom package rips. He's sheathed.

His lips fall to my core for a deep swipe across my folds, then another, this time stopping to suck on my clit.

I scream as he pulls away and then I moan, deeply, when his cock drives into me in one single thrust.

"What time do you work today?" Sophia snaps a picture of me in a short white romper. "I'm going to order the halibut out for a late lunch."

"You're ordering it to go?" I chuckle. "Why don't you just have lunch in the restaurant?"

"I called for a reservation, but you're booked solid." She claps her hands together loudly. "Half of Manhattan is going to eat your halibut today, Den. You'll be the toast of the town."

"You know I can cook it here for you, any night you want." I turn to the side as she takes another picture. "And it's not half of Manhattan. At most, it'll be a few hundred people."

"Does it seem too short to you?" She gestures toward me. "Your ass is hanging out a bit."

"I thought that's the way you wanted it." I arch my back, jutting my ass out even farther. "Where am I supposed to wear this thing?"

"We're going to Florida in four months for my brother's wedding." She twirls her finger in the air. "You can wear it there."

I turn so I'm facing the wall. "What the hell kind of wedding is it? You're sure I can't wear a dress?"

"Right side, please," she says with a giggle. "I'm going to sew a dress for you to wear to the wedding. This is for when we hit the beach."

"You need to let me pay for the material for all these outfits, Soph." I relax once she's taken the last picture. "You're saving me a bundle in wardrobe costs."

"I like designing, Den." She studies her phone. "I don't want you to pay for any of it. You only charge me three hundred dollars a month for rent. You know that's a steal, right?"

I do know that. I also know that having her here is worth way more than that. I don't have siblings. I've lost touch with most of my friends. Sophia is like family to me now and if she asked or needed it, I'd let her stay with me for free.

"At least let me buy your lunch." I breeze past her on the way to my room. "I can eat with you. I work a late shift today. I don't have to be at work until three."

"I'd never turn down free food. You know me better than that."

***

"Why are you here?" My gaze zeroes in on the plate in front of him. It's my dish. It's the halibut that I was so proud of but now seeing it touching his lips, it feels tainted.

"I heard your dish made the lunch menu, babe." His chin lifts as his eyes lock on mine. "I had to come down and try it out for myself."

He hasn't changed at all since I walked out of his life. His blonde hair is still cut short, his blue eyes as mesmerizing as they were the first time I saw them.

That feels like a lifetime ago now. I was at a deli, ordering a sandwich and he was next in line. He suggested I add avocado to it, I scoffed at the idea. By the next night, we were tangled together in the bed in his apartment.

"I don't want you here, Brendon."

He smirks, the way he always did when my opinion or feelings didn't align with his. "I can eat lunch wherever I want. Today I'm doing it here."

"I want you to leave." I step closer to the table. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" He chuckles. "I thought you'd be happy to see me. I know you've missed me, Den. I've missed you."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I bite back the temptation to scream at him to leave. I want nothing more but we're in the middle of Nova. The lunch crowd is dispersing but there are still dozens of people enjoying a leisurely meal. My co-workers are here too and even though Tyler left before I arrived, I know he'll be back soon. Darrell told me as much.

"I don't miss you," I say tightly. "I've moved on. My life is different now."

He straightens in his seat, his fingers pulling on the edge of the linen napkin covering his lap. He's wearing jeans and a blue dress shirt, open at the collar. He's tanned, relaxed and as women stream out of the restaurant, they do a double take to soak in a second look at him. I can't blame them. It's what drew me to him in the first place. What they can't see is the selfish heart that beats within him.

"You should come back to Axel." His jaw tenses. "I'm offering you a senior chef position right now."

It's nothing more than bait. He knows that's what I want. He also knows that despite the fact that I only graduated from culinary school a few months ago, that I'm just as skilled as he is. I proved that in spades to him when we were working side-by-side.

"I'm happy here." I tap my foot on the floor as I stand in place. "I'll never work with you again."

"You sound so sure of yourself." His voice is raspy. He turns to look toward the kitchen. "What's keeping you here? Is it Monroe?"

I won't go there with him. I refuse to. We may have shared something for a brief moment of time but that's dead now. If I had any doubt of that, I don't anymore. I feel nothing for him. Any residual longing or regret is gone. "I like it here, Brendon. This is where I belong now."

He rises from his chair, his eyes level with mine. "You don't belong here. You're better than this place."

"No." I shake my head. "You've got it wrong. They appreciate me here."

"If they appreciated you, they would have told you this halibut is over-seasoned." He tosses his napkin onto his virtually untouched plate. "I'll give you carte blanche at Axel. You can choose the menu, cook what you want. I'll see to it that you get what you deserve if you come back to work for me."

"She's not coming back to work for you." A deep voice interrupts from behind me. "You had your chance. You fucked it up."

I turn toward Tyler. His expression is full of challenge, his eyes angry and focused.

"Don't speak for her," Brendon seethes under his breath. "You don't realize who she really is. You've only seen one part of her."

Tyler steps forward but I still him with a hand to his chest. "Don't bother, Chef. He's not worth it."

Brendon ignores Tyler as he brushes past me. "I'll be waiting for you, Den. You give me the word and the job is yours."

"We should talk about the job offer, Cadence." Tyler shoves his hard through his hair. "Ignoring it won't make it go away."

"Actually ignoring it will make it go away, Chef." I cover my face with my hands. "Brendon was being an asshole."

"Trevino is an asshole." He crouches in front of me, his hands resting on the arms of the wooden chair I'm sitting in. We'd come to small office at the back of the restaurant after Brendon left. Tyler's consoling me now in virtually the same spot he fucked me. "Did you know he was going to be here?"

I angle my face toward him as I drop my hands. There's no accusatory note in his tone, but there's something. I don't know how much of my exchange with Brendon he overheard, but whatever it was, he should have known, based on my body language and the vein pulsing in my neck, that I was angered to see my ex-boyfriend.

"I had no idea."

His face softens. "He upset you, didn't he?"

He did. I don't want to feel anything in relation to Brendon but when the front of the house manager walked into the kitchen when I arrived, twenty minutes early for my shift, she announced that there was a special someone waiting for me. I quickly realized those words were Brendon's and not hers.

I was tempted to let him sit alone in the dining room while he picked at the halibut, but cowering in the corner when faced with an ex-lover is not something I'll do.

When I walked up to his table, the smug look of satisfaction on his face was nauseating. Ever since he landed the executive chef position at Axel, his self-image has been skewed. He may be good behind a stove, but it doesn't excuse him from being a decent human being.

"I'm fine." I shrug.

"Was he serious about offering you a senior chef's job?"

If the question wasn't laced so heavily with surprise, I wouldn't be as taken back as I am. "He was serious, yes."

"Just in title though, right?" His eyes pierce into mine. "He wants you to go back to him so he'll give you the title of senior chef. Is that what the offer was about?"

No, the offer was about the fact that Brendon and I would cook for hours each week in the small, cramped kitchen at his apartment. We would pick each of our original recipes apart until we found just the right balance of flavors.

When we were both happy with it, Brendon, a senior chef at the time, would present the dishes to the head chef at Axel. They're rave about the flavors and more often than not, those dishes would make it to the permanent menu.

Brendon never gave me credit, even when I insisted on it.

When he landed the job as executive chef at Axel, he was interviewed for a feature article in the Times food section. The reporter asked about his inspiration, he said it all came from within him.

I wanted to understand but when weeks passed and I had to stay up all night to revamp the menu because Brendon panicked when he couldn't get it right, I knew that I couldn't keep hiding in his shadow.

Caring for Brendon wasn't the same as loving him. I never loved him. We weren't a duo in any sense of the word. We are two chefs who both want to rise to the top.

When I finally realized that it felt like Brendon would always have one foot on my neck holding me down, I ended our relationship.

He made my life at Axel hell after that, giving me the most menial tasks to take care of. I couldn't flourish with him at the helm then and I sure as hell wouldn't flourish there now.

I left because I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my soul for my career. Brendon didn't say it today, when he was offering me the senior chef's position, but there's a caveat attached to it.

He wants me back in his bed and by his side. He needs my creativity and passion to fuel his own success. I dug myself out of that once, I'll never go back now.

"You still have a lot to learn, Cadence." He crooks the corner of his mouth. "You're a fantastic chef but you're not ready for a senior chef position. He wants more from you, doesn't he? Brendon wants you back in his life."

"I don't care what he wants." I rest one hand on his shoulder as our eyes meet. "It's over. Brendon and I will never work together or be together again."