The Way Home (12 page)

“And more business for us,” he pointed out.

“Undoubtedly. At least for one of us, that is.” She glanced at him. Her tone had been teasing, even though it was the truth.

But maybe not for long,
she reminded herself.

Mike laughed. “Don't worry, Avery, you're going to surprise me one of these days. I just have that feeling.”

Avery returned his smile and took a deep breath of the salty ocean air. “I think I will surprise you,” she admitted. She met his glance and suddenly felt as if she couldn't look away. She decided to tell him. She was being silly. It was just a little promotional idea, not an international security secret.

At just that moment Mike reached out to brush aside a strand of her hair that had blown across her cheek. His hand lingered there for a moment and she felt mesmerized. She could hardly breathe, much less talk or even think.

“You're awfully pretty . . . for a chef, I mean,” he said quietly.

“Um . . . thanks,” she managed. His compliment took her totally by surprise. “I look like a mess most of the time you see me.”

He laughed. “If this is a mess, I'd really be in trouble if we ever went out on the town . . . though I'm willing to risk it,” he added.

“Out on the town—like a date?” Avery suddenly felt very conscious of his nearness. She felt their gazes meet and lock. The wide smile slowly faded from Mike's handsome face, replaced by a different expression, something she couldn't quite interpret—a wondering, bemused look.

“Yeah. That's what I mean. A date.” His voice was low and soft. Even a little nervous, she thought. Though she imagined that he must ask women out all the time. And they must ask him, too, she suddenly realized.

But when would they go? she wondered. They were both so busy with their restaurants. Neither of them ever took a day off, and they would only get busier as the season picked up. How could anyone in this business ever have a relationship?

Does that even matter? Get a grip. You can't go out with him. No more guys in the restaurant business. And you have work to do this summer. Your entire future—and your mother's retirement savings—are riding on this, Avery. You can't let yourself get distracted. No matter how appealing he is.

Her heart thudded in her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear it, even above the crash of the waves.

He was incredibly attractive. And funny and thoughtful and smart, though not in an annoying, pompous way.

“So . . . what do you think?” he asked again. His anxious look melted her heart.

Avery stared at him wide-eyed, not knowing what to say. Before she could answer, a boy on a skateboard suddenly sped toward them. He veered so dangerously close, Avery gasped. Mike reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back against him so she wouldn't be hit. The boy passed by, but Mike still held her.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

She looked up at him, feeling breathless. Before she could say another word, he leaned down and kissed her. Avery was shocked for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and kissed him back. She stood on tiptoe, her hands holding on to his broad shoulders. His arms were wrapped around her waist. She felt totally lost in the sensations of his nearness, drowning in it, as if hit by a giant ocean wave. She wasn't sure how long they stood there. But the sound of her cell phone buzzing suddenly washed her up on dry land again. As they slowly broke apart, Avery felt dazed. Mike looked a bit dazed, too.

“Do you need to get that?” he asked politely.

She glanced quickly at her phone. “It's just Gena. I'll look at it later.” She could already imagine what it said. “I'd better get back to the café. People are looking for me.”

They turned to walk back the way they had come. He was uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments, and she wondered what he was thinking.

She could only think about one thing: that impromptu, impulsive, wildly exciting kiss. Where had that come from? What did it mean? And where was this relationship going? She didn't know the answer to any of those questions.

“I'd better get to work, too. It is Monday,” Mike said finally. “Someday we'll have to come out here for a real beach break. We can each bring some specialties from our kitchens and have a taste-off.”

Avery laughed. “Are you asking me on a date—or challenging me to a throw down?”

He smiled at her sassy comeback. “Maybe a bit of both. Competition isn't a bad thing, Avery. It makes life more interesting, shakes things up a little.”

“Shakes things up?” She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that. Wasn't her situation shaky enough? And that kiss—it had shaken her to her bones.

“That's right. You need to be bold, fearless. Go out on a limb. That's where all the fruit is.”

Was he talking about her restaurant or whatever it was that was growing between them? The guy could win a contest for double entendres, Avery decided. Still, she couldn't help but enjoy his charming smile and the affectionate light in his warm dark eyes. Then again, there was something smug in his pep talk. He was once again giving her advice, and the tiny twinge of guilt she felt about keeping her marketing plans secret dissolved.

She knew he was just trying to be helpful, but she wanted him to respect her, to consider her an equal, not just the floundering newbie on the block.

They walked down a few steps that led off the boardwalk then crossed to Ferry Street. Mike's restaurant stood a few storefronts to the right. Café Peregrine was to the left. A ferry had just landed, and the street was filled with beachgoers, carrying their tote bags, chairs, and umbrellas.

Mike looked down at her, squinting in the sunlight. “Looks like a good crowd out here today. Hope you have a lot of customers tonight.”

“Thanks. Same to you,” she replied.

They stared at each other a moment. Avery wondered again about that kiss. What was going to happen now? Was he going to kiss her again? She wasn't sure she could survive that. She would most likely melt into a puddle, right there on the sidewalk.

But finally he just smiled and lightly touched her shoulder.

“Catch you later, okay?”

“Sure, see you later.” She nodded, feeling awkward and suddenly self-conscious. Was she blushing again? Geez, she hoped he thought it was just the sun.

She turned and waved as she walked away, knowing he stood watching her a moment or two.

She had the funniest feeling, as if she could have hung out with him all day. Not just goofing off at the beach, but doing what they had to do: working in a kitchen, running a restaurant. Together. The image was . . . startling.

Yes, she had sworn off men in the business but . . . Mike was totally different from Paul. Was she being foolish to ignore the possibilities here? There was no ignoring the way he had kissed her. That was for sure.

Avery had walked all the way to the café, and before she could sort out her thoughts about Mike any further, Gena and Teresa both came running to her.

“We've got the TV set up. It looks great,” Gena reported.

“I brought in a framed poster from the movie and hung it by the reservations desk. The perfect touch,” Teresa added.

Of course, Teresa would have the movie poster. I should have known,
Avery realized, smiling ruefully. The women led her into the café to show off their helpful touches, and Avery put her worries and wonders about Mike Rossi aside.

* * *

B
UT
Mike was not very far from her thoughts for the rest of the day, even when the café was filled with diners and the gourmet pizzas were flying out of the oven, one after the next.

In the midst of their rush, she heard someone knocking on the kitchen door. Teresa ran over to open it.

“Hey, Mike. What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the Tuna?” Teresa asked bluntly. Obviously, she was surprised to see Mike away from his kitchen during prime cooking time.

Avery was, too. “Hi, Mike. What's up?” She wiped her hands on a cloth and walked over to greet him.

Mike stared down at her and just squinted a moment. Avery suddenly realized she had never seen him in his cooking whites. He looked even cuter, she thought. But that wasn't the only difference in his appearance tonight. She suddenly realized he was not smiling.

“Nothing's up with me. What's up with you?” He glanced over at the steel table, where Teresa had gone back to work, stretching out circles of dough to dinner-plate portions. “Why didn't you tell me you were planning a pizza night? We were hanging out, walking on the boardwalk . . . I was helping you move your furniture!” He shook his head. “Did you really think you had to keep it a secret?”

Avery sighed. “I was going to tell you, but the crew made me promise I would keep it under wraps.”

“Really? And I thought you were the boss.”

“I am,” Avery said in a definite tone. “But we all came up with this idea together. They earned a say in how we pull it off.”

“I just don't get it.” Mike sounded confused and a little exasperated. “One minute we're all friendly and . . . fine. The next, you're acting like you're afraid I'll steal your idea. You really don't trust me at all, do you?”

Avery felt her face redden as he recalled their time together and came close to mentioning that kiss. That was one thing she definitely was
not
going to discuss.

“It's not that I don't trust you,” she said, mustering the calmest tone she could. “It's that I wanted to put something together on my own. Without any advice or suggestions from anyone else. It's important to me that
I
figure out how to make the Peregrine a success.”

He tilted his head to one side and crossed his arms over his chest. “So all that time, I was giving you advice, trying to pump up your morale . . . you were planning Operation Pizza?”

“Just since Saturday night,” she admitted.

He shook his head, and she wondered if she had just made everything worse.

“Look,” she said, “you're the one who told me to be bold and fearless. To climb a tree and grab some fruit . . . or something like that. I was just taking your advice.”

His mouth twisted to one side. “Maybe I've been giving you too much advice. My place is practically empty. Then I noticed that you had all the customers,” he admitted.

Avery was surprised but definitely pleased at that report. She quickly tried to hide her reaction. She didn't want to gloat.
Maybe now he'll think of me as more of an equal,
she thought. That realization was almost more pleasing than the profit she knew the café was taking in tonight.

Mike just stood there. He didn't look quite like his jaunty, confident self. It was obviously easier for a guy like him to give advice and be in charge. He looked a little lost in this role.

“I think you must be exaggerating,” Avery said, trying to help him save face. “I bet we didn't even make a dent in your traffic tonight.” She carefully spooned some sauce over the circles of dough. “But thanks for the compliment—and for your advice. Seriously, I do appreciate all the encouragement. It's made a huge difference.”

“Well, I'm glad it's working out for you.” He straightened his cap and headed for the door. “Just to let you know—because
I
don't treat the Tuna like a state secret—we're doing a theme night tomorrow, Tex-Mex Tuesday. We even have a piñata.”

“Tomorrow, we might have dancing girls,” she countered. And when he looked at her darkly, she added, “Kidding.”

He gave her a reluctant smile then left the kitchen as quickly as he had come.

As she slipped another batch of pizzas in the oven and Gena arrived with another fistful of orders, Avery hummed with satisfaction. This was how a kitchen was supposed to be, hectic and pressured, a complicated dance that had to be performed with meticulous precision as the music got faster and faster. That was the rhythm she thrived on, what she had trained for years to do. When she was cooking in the zone, like tonight, she didn't even have to peek out into the dining area. She felt all was well in her café—and in the entire universe.

But her contentment was tainted when she recalled the look on Mike's face tonight and the lovely time they'd spent together, strolling along the boardwalk that morning. And the way he'd kissed her. Was that really why he was upset? They'd had that amazing kiss, and then it seemed as if she didn't trust him.

Was he right? She was definitely attracted to him—madly attracted—but did she trust him?

Avery wasn't sure. All she knew was that her restaurant had to come first, even if Mike Rossi seemed to be finding a way into her heart.

* * *

L
IZA
and Jamie had agreed that he would get paid every other Tuesday, and Tuesdays would also be his day off. On Tuesday morning, Jamie arrived in the kitchen just as Claire was loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.

“Guess I missed breakfast. I'll just grab some cereal,” he said as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

“I saved you some pancakes, though they may have gotten tough sitting in the oven.” Claire took a dish from the oven and placed it on the table.

Jamie suddenly looked awake. “Thanks, Claire. These look good.” He nimbly slipped a few of the flapjacks onto his own plate and coated them with butter and syrup.

Claire poured herself more coffee and sat across the table.

She knew that Liza had paid him last night. Now he had a pocket full of money and a whole day free of duties from the inn. She hoped that wasn't a recipe for trouble.

“So, your first day off. Do you have any plans?” Claire didn't want to seem nosy or anxious, but she was genuinely worried. She wondered if he would take the money he had earned so far—almost two weeks' salary, which had to seem like a small fortune to him—and disappear.